Page 13 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

“They know we’re coming,” Paxton says. He is looking at his phone. “Vlad said he just got off the phone with them again.”

“The wards are…” Sam trails off. His frown only deepens, and my skin prickles. Is there something he knows that we do not?

It matters little. A few minutes pass before a slender figure appears. He wears no glamour, his coral-pink hair pulled back into a high ponytail that reveals pointed ears. Grant gasps when he sees him, eyes wide, though I know he has seen fae before.

“Soren told me to hurry, but I didn’t think you’d be here so fast!” The fae reaches out a hand and the wards shudder, a hole growing right where he is standing. “Said it was an emergency, but I can’t imagine—”

His eyes land on me and he goes silent. Only for a second. Then a wide, not-at-all-friendly grin spreads across his face.

“We’re just here to cross,” Paxton says. He ducks through the opening first, and the fae waves the rest of us through.

He holds out a hand when I move toward him. My skin prickles with heat. “Seems like the Hunt should have dealt with you a long time ago, Your Highness.”

Seelie. The hostility is a giveaway. It does not matter, I suppose, that the Guardians are supposed to be neutral, to hold the crossing between worlds fast so that this realm is not overrun. There is a reason both a Seelie and Unseelie fae count among their number.

“They took my friend,” Dante says. “Please. He’s going to get her back.”

I hear no doubt in his voice, but that does not mean he believes it. Still, he is right. That is what I am going to do.

The fae sniffs. “Fine. But you’d better have some way of juicing yourself up when you get on the other side because you know what those court fae are like.”

I nod. I know far better than he does, being as I do not recognise him at all. He steps aside to let me pass and the wards shiver shut behind me. We are now in a very elaborate cage, but I do not know if the others know that.

“I’m Isidore,” the fae says as he leads us up an overgrown path. We are forced to walk single-file and, desperate to learn more about the fae, Grant has jumped ahead, leaving Dante at the back with me.

I swallow and tune out their chatter. “I will do it,” I say.

Dante stumbles a step. He glances back at me, but his expression is pained, as though he does not want to look at all.

Eventually, he says, “I know.”

We are silent the rest of the way. A large house comes into view, what might have once been a human dwelling, but now changed by the creatures who dwell within. The garden is not overgrown due to neglect. This Seelie fae has teased and tempered it that way, making it yet another form of defence.

He darts up the steps that lead to the front door, which swings easily open at his touch.

“Come in, come in.”

“The crossing is in here?” Paxton asks. He glances around as though he expects to see it.

We all pile into the entryway, and I look up the sweeping staircase that leads to the first floor. It is a large space, but not at all elegant.

No. This is a home. It is a little messy and cluttered, and so far from my own sad, silent flat, that feeling rises in my throat and threatens to choke me.

“He should be—Ah, Soren!”

Another fae sweeps in from a side room. Unlike Isidore, Soren is wearing his glamour, but from his rigid posture and quick, dark look, I know that he is not only an Unseelie fae, but likely was a member of the court before he was sent here. I do not let my trepidation show on my face. That was a long time ago. If I ever met him back then, I do not remember it.

“Isidore.” Is there warmth in that word? There is in the way that Isidore looks at Soren, even if I cannot be certain the feeling is returned. “Who is to cross?”

Grant turns in a slow circle, staring up at the ceiling. “Is it just the two of you who live here?”

When Soren and Isidore stare at him, nonplussed, he merely shrugs. Paxton sighs. Sam looks to be at his limit, but Isidore speaks first.

“No, little vampire. We have a vampire of our own, but he’s not quite as special as you. And our werewolf, but he’s off visiting packs and spreading the word about the fae.”

Sam scowls. “And you’ve got—”

Steps sound on the stairs. We all turn to look, and Sam’s power flares as he pulls magic tight around the five of us.