Arabesque: A Wings Companion

Chapter Six

***Special dedication to all of the victims of the Orlando shooting and EVERYONE who loves them***

"I don't like it," Laurel said softly as Tamani closed and locked the door to their master suite. They'd gotten Rowen settled into a guest room and extracted a very serious promise that she wouldn't so much as think about leaving their house until they'd spoken after a good night's sleep.

"I didn't say yes," Tamani replied, pulling his shirt up and over his head for the sole reason that Laurel preferred him that way. Even when her parents were in residence—which was about half the year, as Laurel couldn't persuade them to fully retire from managing their shops in Crescent City—Tamani usually went shirtless, blaming his photosynthesizing needs for the state of dishabille that was apparently unusual to humans. And technically, he enjoyed it for that reason too; he was a member of the plant kingdom, after all. "But I don't know what else I can say."

"How about no?" Laurel said acerbically, one hand resting on their intricately carved bedpost and the other fisted on her hip.

"And then what? She's a Summer faerie who lives with the woman we unlock Avalon's gate for once a week. I'm shocked she hasn't caught on already. How many more queenless unlockings do you think it would take? Honestly, I don't know which would be worse—if the sentries caught her and Yasmine was forced to impose some kind of punishment to maintain credibility, or if they didn't and Rowen ran off alone to do this thing she clearly thinks is simple enough for a sprout to undertake."

"You think Yasmine would punish her?"

"She might not have much choice. Marion's been pretty quiet lately—it would be nice if I could believe she's settled down—but if she got word of fae slipping out unsupervised, I'm sure she'd put pressure on Yasmine. And I don't know the sentries on the Avalon side anymore, any one of them could be feeding information back to Marion."

Laurel shook her head and Tamani could only mirror the sentiment. The idea that anyone might still be loyal to Marion after all they'd been through was not one she understood. Maybe some things were impossible to understand for those who grew up outside Avalon.

"She wouldn't make it ten miles," Laurel said. "You saw how she reacted to my dad."

"How many fae secrets do you think she'd expose along the way?"

That won Tamani a skeptical look, but he could tell he'd gotten to her. Rowen was leagues past confident—she was arrogant and assured and she thought so little of humans that she'd be utterly unprepared for the first one she faced.

Tamani wadded up his shirt and threw it into the hamper in their closet before leaning down to pull a long knife from his boot and slide it into the sheath hanging from the headboard. It had been years since the last time he skinned anything more threatening than a pear, but as a sentry he knew that the best time to prepare for the worst was before you knew the worst was coming. "Even if she doesn't figure out we're opening the gate for my mother, at this point what are the chances she'll just go back to her dance school and behave?" He didn't turn to face Laurel, but stood with hands on his hips, staring into the darkened room where it seemed at least half his thoughts dwelt these days. "I wouldn't put it past her to stop training, get herself cut from the corps, and then come to us and say, 'Look, now my life here really is destroyed.'"

"She'd have no one but herself to blame," Laurel said without conviction.

"Don't you think she's been punished enough?" he whispered. He blinked back tears as Laurel pressed herself to his back and twined her arms around his chest. Crying—well, almost crying—something else he hadn't done in years. Not until today, when every emotion that ever once felled him had come back for a second go. "Goddess above, she saw Dahlia beheaded."