Think happy thoughts, McKenzie, I order myself. Rainbows. Ponies. Kimkis. I don’t want him to fissure to my apartment just yet. In ten minutes, maybe. Surely the elari won’t hang around that long.

I look again at Lorn. He’s hurt and bleeding and saying things I don’t understand in a feverish murmur. His chaos lusters are crawling across his skin. That’s not normal. They should be quick and frenzied from being in my car.

My apartment complex vanishes from my rearview mirror when I take a left at the first intersection. I have no idea where I’m going. I can’t take Lorn to a hospital, not even to a clinic or doctor’s office. I don’t know anyone in the city, and . . .

No, that’s not entirely true. I do know someone in the city, someone who’s familiar with fae.

SIXTEEN

I SLAM ON my brakes outside Kynlee’s house. Kyol’s at my apartment. I hold my breath, willing him to be careful and praying that Nimael and the other two elari have already left.

Beside me, Lorn shifts. His eyes are shut, and he’s still awkwardly sitting on the floor, not in the passenger seat.

“Lena.” His voice is so weak, I barely make out the name.

“I’ll get her here as quickly as I can,” I tell him. Then, under my breath, I murmur, “Get away from my apartment, Kyol.”

The elari must not have hung around, though. His heart isn’t pounding like he’s fighting for his life, but he’s moving, following the pull of the life-bond in my direction. It took me fifteen minutes to drive here. He might make the trip in half an hour.

I turn off the car then look at Lorn, at his bruised and swollen face and his blood-soaked clothing. He’s not going to be able to walk up the sidewalk on his own, but I don’t want to leave him in the car. His edarratae are worrying me. He needs to get away from the tech now. Besides, if I somehow manage to drag him to the front porch, the presence of a half-dead fae might make it harder for Kynlee’s dad to slam the door in my face.

I climb out of the car, then open the passenger-side door.

“Come on, Lorn.”

His head turns toward my voice, and he lifts an arm, but that’s all the help I get. I’m not strong enough to lift his limp body over my shoulder, so I pull him out of the car and onto the pavement. Hooking my arms under his, I back up one step at a time, dragging him across the cement.

I’m sweating by the time I prop Lorn against the porch wall, and I lean against it for a moment, too, catching my breath and looking back down the sidewalk. Lorn’s left a line of blood all the way from my car. A normal human won’t see the crimson trail, but one who has the Sight will. Kynlee and her dad will.

Nothing I can do about it now.

I ring the bell and pound on the door. Wait half a minute then knock and ring the bell again.

Still nothing, not even when I bang on the window to the right of the door. Both Kynlee and her dad must sleep like the dead. I’m considering the possibility that I might have to break in when the door finally opens.

I expect Kynlee’s dad to be pissed; I don’t expect him to shove the barrel of a shotgun into my chest.

“What the fuck are you doing at my house?” he demands.

I retreat a step. He presses forward.

“He needs help,” I say, heart pounding as I hold my hands out to my sides. I remember reading his profile in the library database. His name is Nick. “Please, Ni—”

“Get out of here!” he yells. “I’ll call the cops. I’ll have you arrested for harassment, or so help me I’ll kill you.”

“Dad?”

Nick stiffens, and I say a quick, silent prayer of thanks. No way in hell is he going to shoot me in front of his daughter.

“Holy shit, Dad!” Kynlee squats in front of Lorn. “What happened?”

Nick curses quietly, then lowers the shotgun.

“Go back to bed,” he says, propping the gun behind the door.

“But, Dad—”

“Go!”

Damn. So much for Kynlee softening her dad up. She retreats to a hallway.

Nick’s gaze returns to me. “You’re not welcome here. Drag him back to your car and leave.”

I draw in a breath, bracing myself. “I can’t. I don’t have anywhere else I can take him.”

“I don’t give a goddamn—”

“Look,” I cut him off. “Just let us in. Someone will be here to help him soon. After he’s recovered, we’ll leave. I’ll leave Vegas even.”

Nick’s chest expands with each angry breath he takes. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of jeans that he hasn’t taken the time to button. I’ve offered him a decent deal, though. He wants me to stay away from his daughter. I’ll stay away from the whole city if he’ll help us now.

But my offer must not be tempting enough. He starts to shake his head.

Quickly, I nod toward Lorn, trying another tactic before Nick slams the door in my face. “He’s visible.” I’m pretty sure that’s a lie, but a Sighted human has no way of knowing that without paying attention to the reactions of normal humans. “Are your neighbors nosy?”

“I told you—”

“He needs help,” I say. “And we’re not leaving your front porch until you let us in.”

“He’ll leave if he enters the ether,” Nick threatens. He reaches for the shotgun again.

I pretend not to care, stand my ground, and meet his glare. His jaw works, clenching and relaxing, then clenching again.

Finally, he curses. He looks down at Lorn then says, “One hour. Then you’re gone.”

Thank God.

“Just help me get him inside,” I say.

I slip under Lorn’s right arm while Nick mutters something under his breath and slips under his left. Lorn’s head lolls to the side, but he’s semiconscious. His feet move, though not very usefully.

Nick kicks the front door shut as soon as we’re over the threshold. The bam echoes in the high-ceilinged entryway.

“Go to the garage,” Nick barks. “Turn off the breakers.”

At first, I think he’s talking to me. Then I see Kynlee peeking around the corner. She looks chagrined for only the briefest moment before she nods and rushes off. We continue half carrying, half dragging Lorn into the house. Nick grumbles about the carpet as we make our way through the living room, leaving a trail of Lorn’s blood behind us.

“In here,” Nick says gruffly, leading the way into a sunroom at the back of the house. The full moon shines across the wooden floors and a wicker sofa with white cushions. I start to lower Lorn onto the sofa, but he slips from my grasp when Nick all but throws him to the floor.

Lorn rolls to his back. Groans. From somewhere above us, there’s a click. I feel the air-conditioning unit shut down, and Lorn’s chaos lusters lose a little of their jaggedness. They’re still sluggish, though. Being in my world as weak as he is isn’t good for him.

I press my hand to his forehead, checking for a fever.

Stupidly checking for a fever. Fae are always hot when I touch them. His chaos lusters heat my skin, and I pull my hand back. I think he does have a fever, though. Sweat mixes with the blood caking his temple, and, even in the moonlight, his pale face looks flushed.

“Will this help?” Kynlee’s voice comes from behind me.