Page 20 of The Fae’s Treasure

“Either, both.”

“That’s very helpful.”

“And bake some oaty biscuits while you’re home?”

Bonwit groans, makes a rude gesture at me, and vanishes, leaving me alone with my son—and my son’s new mother and his new pup, in my pretty little human house.

My heart feels strange just looking at the two of them, curled together.

She would do anything to protect him.

So would I.

Maybe we could be more than neighbors. Perhaps we should be allies...

At least until I find the right bargain to get my son back without breaking my word.

Rain. Crackling logs. The scent of something freshly baked. Soft, cool air.

All my favorite sounds and scents gently wake me, and my eyes open to see the most gorgeous storybook fairy prince with his forehead to my son’s forehead as he holds him in his arms, looking at him like the most beautiful sight in the world.

He speaks to him softly in a musical, melodic language that makes the musician in me ache to understand—while the instincts in me suddenly understand something else, something so clear and undeniable that I have to say it aloud. “You’re his father, aren’t you?”

Dairmuid’s shoulders jerk back as if someone’s shot him in the back with an arrow. “You’re awake.”

“Yes.” I sit up slowly. I don’t know how long I slept, but I know I feel amazing. Sharp. Clear. Peaceful.

Which is odd, because I’m clearly in some magic mushroom hallucinogenic dream where people and monsters live together. Maybe the water in Pine Ridge is radioactive or something, and my brain cells are mutating.

But even if my brain is misfiring, my baby is still my baby—and the fear that Dairmuid is here to take him away is all-consuming. “Are you here to take him away? Where is his mother?” I whisper.

He sighs. “I hoped not to alarm you.”

“I’m alarmed. Are you?” I struggle to the edge of the couch, not sure what I’m going to do. I mean, Rory isn’t mine—but this guy is a stranger. And I’m a stranger to him. This is a bad hostage situation with someone innocent and defenseless in the middle.

Dairmuid shakes his head. “I promised you I wouldn’t take him or hurt him. His mother could be anywhere, but at least she’s not in my realm, not now. She is evil. I didn’t know she was evil until she told me she’d had my child and hidden him in the human world. She wants my soul or Rory’s soul to claim. Fae are immortal, which means something to Saz, a succubus. She feeds on souls, but they’re not hers to keep. A fae soul means she’ll never be hungry again—but it also means something else. Something I don’t understand.” Dairmuid turns and looks at me, the baby now tucked in the crook of his arm.

Men holding babies is apparently part of the “Pine Ridge may be monstrous but it ain’t so bad” package, because my ovaries just purred. Purred. Like one of those fake tan “cougars” in leopard print and stilettos at Ladies’ Night. I have to restructure my brain and find the cool, detached part of myself before I can speak. “So, you’re not taking him away from me?”

I wait for him to argue that he has the right.

I might argue back that I have just as much right. His mother, evil or no, entrusted her child to me. How do I know Dairmuid is telling the truth? What if he’s the bad guy, and the mother was desperate to get the baby away from him?

All the peaceful, sleepy feelings vanish, replaced with a laser focus that has to burn its way through conflicting images of how ruggedly handsome yet ethereally pretty Dairmuid is and how much estrogen is pumping through my body at the mere sight of him cradling Rory.

Stupid bitch of a biological clock. I think that clock is real. No matter how many times Aaron and I hit the snooze alarm, Rory has set it ringing.

“No. But I am not leaving here, either. He is in danger. Saz made a bargain with me to reveal his location. She thought she was getting half of my soul—”

“What did she actually get?”

“Half of a biscuit.”

My eyebrows arch. “Talk about haggling.”

Dairmuid smiles crookedly, and I find myself gripping the sofa cushions just to keep myself in check. You know it’s wrong to have feelings about this guy? He’s not human. He’s tricky. He’s going to want his son back, no matter what he says.

“Once I knew Saz was tricking me, I simply tricked her back. I found my son, but he’s stuck here in the human world for now. Maybe forever, if I can’t figure out Saz’s game. But I wouldn’t take him without your knowledge or permission, even if I could.” Dairmuid frowns, which, oddly enough, gives him a different kind of handsomeness, something more stern and commanding.