Page 23 of The Fae’s Treasure

“I do. But I play this even better.” Dairmuid pulls out a long, ornately carved wooden whistle from inside the dark green cloak he’s now wearing. “I may challenge Lady Deanna to a battle of notes later on.”

“Ooh. Lady, is it?” Fortnum’s eyebrows arch higher, turning into bushy gray tufts above curious eyes. “Is it Lord Dairmuid, then?”

“You are correct.”

“But we’re not together.” I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Even if there is a teensey-beensy part of me that likes the wrong idea.

Pastor Fortnum looks between the three of us—and the puppy that has now decided to stick its head out of the deep pockets of Dairmuid’s cloak. “Ah. Well, it’s nice you’re here together to make some music. What brings you to these parts, Lord Dairmuid? Or can I just call you Dair?”

Dairmuid smiles, a crooked, roguish smile. “You are a bold soul.”

“When you’re the Lord’s representative in a place like this, bold is the best way to go.”

“Well, if you are bold, then I shall be, too. I am here because Sazara, or as I knew her, Saz, my former succubus paramour, hid my child in the human world, and Lady Deanna found him.”

I hide a glare under the guise of settling Rory onto one of the padded pews, rocking the carrier out of habit—so many new habits, formed so fast. It hurts to hear Dairmuid talk about Rory’s biological parent, and it hurts worse to know what she would do to this sweet, beautiful boy for selfish reasons.

“That’s quite a custody battle,” Fortnum drawls, voice low and slow.

“It’s more than a lover’s quarrel. She hid him from me, and hid the fact that she was carrying him. She hopes to steal either my soul or my son’s, and use an immortal soul to—”

“Ah. To break free of her need to feed and to have an infernal master.” Fortnum nods like this is old hat.

“What? How do you know all that?” I demand.

“Well, we have a rusalka here in town, a water demon very similar to a succubus, and she had to harvest all of her souls for a sort of demon overlord. Now, her situation was a little different. She had to marry a human, give him her soul, be his soul mate and true love and all of that—and then her overlord couldn’t claim her. It was a messy business, but at least there weren’t any children involved,” he clucks his tongue.

“Protecting my son is all that matters. I would give anything, even my soul—but it would only lead to greater evil. As fae go, I’m not particularly benevolent, but I am certainly not malicious. I am wise enough to know that Saz will use any new powers for harm, not good.”

“Oh, if she’s an evil demon intent on doing harm, she’ll have one heck of a time in Pine Ridge,” Fortnum says. His face is grave as he nods, bushy eyebrows lowered now, arms crossed. “The citizens in this town, human and otherwise, like it peaceful. We want it to be a good place for our children to grow up, live together in harmony and without fear. You try to hurt an innocent in these parts, and you’re going to have an entire mob of angry monsters on your tail.”

“She does have a tail, but I’m not as concerned about it compared to the rest of her,” Dairmuid explains, and I have to smother a laugh.

He’s such an interesting blend of cosmic knowledge and simplicity. The car ride over here was very insightful. He’d never been in a car before, and his wide-eyed look of panic and his hoarse cries of “Don’t worry, Rory, your father is here!” every time another car approached were... educational.

Fortnum gives me a look that says he’s got the same undercurrent of amusement brewing. “This town is warded and charmed regularly by those with pure hearts and good intentions for their magical gifts. If your ex-wife—”

“We were never wed.”

“Ex-whatever gets in, she’ll already have used a ton of energy to do so. I imagine she was only able to drop the baby off here because bringing him here was actually an act of good and mercy. You said she wants to take this little fella’s soul?” Pastor Fortnum kneels down next to Rory and gently pats his foot, encased in his dark blue baby onesie. “Well, we just can’t let that happen. I think you folks might want to chat with the local incubi and succubi and see how she can be stopped.”

“You have those foul creatures here?” Dairmuid demands, but then blushes. “Sorry. Sorry, I was much more willing to believe that demons could reform until the only one I ever knew intimately, the only one I ever trusted or cared for, betrayed me so deeply.”

“No, son, I understand that,” Fortnum pats Dairmuid’s shoulder as if he’s comforting one of his long-time parishioners. “We have Liam Icarus in town, very sweet fella, and then there’s a new gal, Blanche, just ‘landed’ in town, looking for a way to live a clean life. She works over at the little Italian place as a waitress. Lemme see if I can get them over here while you two practice. Now, Miss Deanna, I didn’t know you were bringing a royal flutist with you. I don’t think the church can spring for that, unless your friend wants to be paid in cookies and doughnuts during Sunday coffee in the fellowship hall, or dinner at the post-choir potluck.”

“If you help me protect my son, it is I who will pay you, good sir. But I am very partial to biscuits, and I have seen doughnuts.” Dairmuid’s eyes light up. “I wouldn’t mind being paid in such items.”

“Good to know!” The pastor smiles and hurries off.

I roll my eyes. “Your job is to watch the baby, not play an instrument.”

“I can do both. You have that sling contraption to wear the baby at your chest. You will put him on me, and I will play.”

“Whhh. Whhhh! Ennn!”

Dairmuid turns abruptly when Rory begins to fuss.