Page 16 of The Fae’s Treasure

“May I help you with something?”

I gasp, instantly on the defensive, and look up.

And stay rooted to that spot, shamelessly staring.

There is a handsome, ethereally beautiful man in jeans and a brown suede cloak staring at me with a gentle smile, long red locks blowing back in the faintest of September breezes.

And wings.

Beautiful, big-ass dragonfly-like wings that sparkle in the sun.

“Shit,” I gasp.

The smile vanishes, then comes back broader. “Well, if you have stalls to muck, I’ll gladly oblige, but I thought you might want help putting those into your, uh—” he gestures to my car. “Automobile.”

“You have wings, too,” I hiss, dropping everything but Rory’s carrier and the leash, and backing towards my door. “Were you the man in my house—”

“I promise you, I have never been inside that house,” he says quickly. “But I am your new neighbor. And yes, I do have wings. I suppose you’re one of the humans who can see the paranormal folk?”

My eyes dart around so hard I’m afraid I’m going to tear a retina. “Paranormal...”

“Yes. Vampires, Orcs, fae? I hear they’re rare in the human world, but plentiful in pockets. I believe the longer you live here, the more you’ll see that some of your neighbors aren’t quite human in appearance, although we certainly know human customs. Certainly. Like... Like asking your new neighbor, who clearly seems overburdened, if she would like a helping hand with all of her bundles.”

The man in front of me is talking. Smiling.

He shouldn’t be allowed to smile; he is stupidly, criminally handsome, and in a weird way, he makes my heart soar and ache at the same time. I bet Rory will grow up to look like this. And all of a sudden, I’m picturing my tiny baby all grown up, and even though he’s not mine by blood, the pain hits hard and fast, a gut punch that makes me recoil.

The neighbor backs up a step, smile vanishing. “I’m sorry. Did I startle you?”

“Wings!” I croak.

“Oh, yes. Does your son not have them?” he asks.

“How do you know about my—”

His answer comes out before I’ve finished my sentence, setting my nerves on high alert, but his voice is so casual, and his hand waves away the suspicion in my voice as if it’s nothing. “Oh, one fae can always tell another—or a halfling. This beautiful boy is clearly part fae.” He smiles into the carrier with the most reverent, soppy smile. “Such a pretty babe. Such lovely hair, too.”

I almost want to ask how he knows Rory is a boy, but I stop short. If fae can sense fae, then I guess they can sense other things, too.

And I’m still trying not to drop from shock or downright exhaustion (or maybe some PTSD after last night). “There are vampires?” I finally manage, swaying on the spot.

“My lady, you do not look well.” Neighbor Hottie says. “You look as if you might faint.”

“I... Sleepless nights. Newborn. Answer the question, please.” I remember manners exist, somewhere in the wreckage of stress, sleep deprivation, and the weird flutter that hit my stomach when he surged forward with concern in his eyes, calling me ‘my lady.’

“I am also new here, and new to this realm. I prefer the fae realm of my birth and my ancestors, but from what I have been told, this place is a good and safe haven for paranormal peoples who wish to live a peaceful life with their human neighbors.”

“Realms? This place?”

“Yes, Pine Ridge, and yes, the fae realm is directly beside the human one, separated by very thin barriers, which is why there are so many halfling children. Well, there were in the past, not simply in Pine Ridge but around the world. You know, banshee, pooka, and such.”

I fight to stay standing. Have to protect Rory.

“Please may I escort you into your house? Or mine? You are looking paler by the second, my lady.”

Oh, God. There it goes again. Some stupid part of my body that’s hardwired to be calm, efficient, no-nonsense, and practical—twanged like a plucked guitar string by a tall, gorgeous guy with wings.

The little taste of magic and fantasy that life has worn down tries to struggle back to life.