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He can’t see me, it’s not possible. She checked her connection to the stone, found it solid. And yet—
More knocking from the front door.
She rushed away from the bathroom.
Chapter 17
Basil’s breath was still uneven while he used the towel he found on one of the bathroom wall shelves to dry himself off with quick, efficient moves. He was halfway back in his clothes the moment he heard Isa open the front door to whoever dared disturb her at this hour.
Dared interrupt what could have evolved into a very interesting encounter.
Gods have mercy, but that was hot. When he heard her padding into the bathroom only to stop dead in her tracks, he thought she’d turn on her heels and run back to bed. He hadn’t faced her or signaled that he noticed her presence so he wouldn’t embarrass her, but then she’d done the unthinkable—she stayed.
Even though he hadn’t been able to see her, he knew she hadn’t left. He would have heard it. So, he figured he’d give her something to watch.
He almost hardened again, just imagining what it must have been like for her. The fact that she stayed, had watched him…and now, as he crossed the threshold of the archway, his heightened fae senses picked up the lingering aroma of her arousal.
Yep, she definitely enjoyed the show.
With a grin on his face, he strapped on the rest of his weapons and walked toward the entrance area. Isa, clad in long, flowing pants and a loose, short-sleeve nightshirt, held the door open to a fae male, her posture defensive, her free hand half behind her butt, fingers twitching. Probably ready to draw a small dagger at her lower back.
He surreptitiously prepared one of his knives to slide quickly into his hand if need be. “What’s going on?”
The male’s attention flicked to him, his golden skin aglow in the light of the crystals, his long, silver hair braided above his temples. “Basil? Basil Murray?”
He paused. “Who are you?”
A smile lit up the fae’s face. “I am so glad I found you. My name is Calâr of Air, and I have come to help you.”
Basil frowned, his gut churning with suspicion. “With what, exactly? How do you know me?”
Calâr glanced at Isa. “May I come in?”
“No,” Basil said. “Explain yourself first.”
Calâr inclined his head. “Of course. I know you only recently found out about your fae heritage, because the glamour on you and the silence spell on Hazel Murray were lifted. The reason for that is that the fae who cast both has died, as I’m sure you suspected. I was a good friend of the fae who exchanged you, but even so, she kept your fate a secret until moments before she died. I was with her when she lay on her deathbed, and she told me of you and made me swear to find you and help you claim your powers.”
Involuntarily, Basil had stepped closer, his mind racing with the implications of what the fae was saying.
“You see,” Calâr went on, “half-breeds may have trouble connecting with their magic because of their mixed heritage, but there is a way to facilitate the emergence and claiming of those powers.”
“Wait—half-breed? What the hell do you mean?”
“Oh, but of course.” Calâr’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t know, would you? You are not fully fae. Your father was a demon.”
His words knocked the breath out of Basil. Dizzy, he swayed, his chest tingling, his stomach making a dive for the ground. He stared at the fae in utter speechlessness.
“That is why you were taken out of Faerie and hidden with the witch family,” Calâr continued. “The relationship between your father and your mother was forbidden, and you would not have been allowed to live. They killed your father, and your mother died in childbirth. My friend managed to smuggle you out before they could kill you, too, because she had promised your mother to make sure you survived. When my friend’s death drew near, she realized her magic would lift upon her passing, and you would find out you’re more than human and might go in search of your identity. She thought it important for you to know the whole truth and learn to handle your powers. Thus, she tasked me to help you, and here I am.” He bowed his head. “I am happy to have found you safe and sound, Basil Murray.”
Basil’s thoughts whirled, trying to catch up with these stunning revelations. “How did you find me?” he managed to ask, clinging to whatever sense he had left.
“My friend gave me the name of the witch family she chose for you, and I went there in search of you, only to find out you’d left for Faerie. I have been following your tracks for as long as possible, but when I lost your trace, I used this to find your location.” He held up a compass. “It is bespelled by witches to point to someone’s whereabouts if you know their name, an old charm that I’ve had in my possession for some time.” At Basil’s frown, he added, with a humble smile, “I am an archivist of treasures and knowledge for the fae court, and I was fortunate enough to collect some valuables of my own over time.”
Basil studied him, his mind still piecing the puzzle together, his heart unconvinced. “If you met with Hazel, why isn’t she here? She’s been looking for a fae to take her into Faerie to join me, so why hasn’t she come with you?”
“Ah.” Calâr nodded. “You have a keen intellect. I understand your caution, but let me put your doubts to rest. Hazel was indeed eager to travel with me, but her witch friend—the redhead with the demon mate—mentioned a situation in the witch community with one called Juneau, and said the circumstances were too precarious for Hazel to leave and give Juneau and her witches reason to attack. Hazel was torn, for she wanted to find you and her daughter Rose here in Faerie, but I assured her I would take care of you, and that Rose was safe. I swore to bring both of you back unharmed, and she agreed to let me go in her stead.”
“Wait…you know about Rose?”
