from him. “Can I use it to contact you?”
Cal did his best to hide a smile. He didn’t quite succeed. “The signal here in Otherworld tends not to be great.”
“A word. In private.” Jethro drew Cal to one side.
Vashti couldn’t catch everything that was said but she was fairly sure it was about her from the turbulent set of Jethro’s features and the occasional phrase such as “got to be kidding me” and “a babysitter for your observer.” Whatever Cal said in reply appeared to have a calming effect. Nevertheless, Jethro’s muttered comment reached her as the two men made their way back to her. “It was your decision to send her with me. If something happens to her, she’s your responsibility, not mine.” Vashti suspected she was meant to overhear it.
Cal scanned her face. “Sure about this?”
“Absolutely.” She gave him her brightest smile. “At least I already know what the worst part of the journey will be.”
“What’s that?” He lifted her bag and handed it to her.
She cast a look at Jethro, whose expression refused to lighten. “The company.”
* * *
Jethro watched Vashti surreptitiously as she leaned against the rail of the boat, allowing the brisk breeze to catch her face. It was hard not to watch her. She had a sort of mesmerizing quality that drew his gaze even when he tried to fight it. He’d met plenty of faeries in his time, but she seemed to have more enchantment about her than all the others put together. As if this job wasn’t complicated enough already.
He felt his initial annoyance at not being able to get a flight from Orkney to Glasgow dissipating with each mile the ferry covered. It was one of the most infuriating things about what he did. It should be simple. He wanted to get from one place to the next in the most direct way possible. Other people got paid to take him there. Yet there always seemed to be a problem. Patience wasn’t high on Jethro’s list of virtues. Over the years he’d developed his own ways of getting around inflexible travel schedules, but today money and intimidation hadn’t been options.
They had passed through the portal from Spae to Orkney just in time to find out they’d missed the only flight leaving the island that day.
Swallowing his annoyance, Jethro had resorted to finding an alternative. “It’s an island,” he’d said to the airport ticket agent. “There must be other ways of getting off it.”
“The ferry to the mainland leaves in an hour,” she’d told him, a trace of disappointment in her eyes as she’d looked him up and down. “I hope you’ll visit Orkney again soon.”
Now that he’d managed to phone ahead and get arrangements in place for the next stage of the journey, Jethro allowed himself to relax. Well, as close as he ever came to that sensation. What he did for a living never allowed him to completely unwind.
“I’m going to get something to eat.” He raised his voice slightly above the noise of the engines, the wind and the cries of the gulls. “Since you’re following me, I thought you might want to join me?”
Vashti turned her head and he was caught in the headlamp stare of those incredible eyes. Lighter and bluer than the sky above her head, they had a feline tilt below slightly slanting brows. The give-away sidhe ring of fire around her irises blazed bright, making the blue even clearer. Damn. He had a feeling those eyes were going to give him all kinds of problems.
“I’m not a child in the schoolyard, tagging along behind you because I want to.” Her voice was haughty. “I’m observing you because it’s my duty.”
He grinned. “Perhaps you’d like to observe me while I eat a burger?”
Her expression was thoughtful. Then she nodded. “I’m hungry, too.”
They made their way down to the boat’s restaurant. “Is it true what they say about faeries?” Jethro paused as he studied the self-service menu. “If we eat together, will I belong to you forever?”
For the first time since he’d met her, Vashti smiled. It was an expression filled with genuine amusement and a hint of mischief. And it lit up the beige plastic and dull chrome environment like a flare launched into the midnight sky beyond the portholes. “Only if I want you.”
Jethro returned the smile. He had no choice. It was irresistible. “I guess I’m safe?”
“Totally.”
And in that instant, in that bland environment smelling of fries and cheap coffee with dispirited travelers milling around them, Jethro felt something shift ever so slightly. It was a tiny glimmer of something other than animosity. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. Interest? He knew what Lorcan would say. He could hear his friend’s long-suffering voice chiding, “Sure, can’t you be around a good-looking woman for more than five minutes without trying to figure out how to get her into bed?”
But it wasn’t that sort of interest. Call it curiosity. Vashti had taken him by surprise. He hadn’t expected her to have a sense of humor. That was all. She usually hid it so well with that whole pain-in-the-ass royal thing she had going on.
“So are we going to get some food?”
Aware that Vashti was regarding him with a bemused expression, Jethro gave himself a mental shake. So much for the ever-alert mercenary. Just as well neither Iago nor Tibor had been around while he was gazing into Vashti’s eyes, intrigued by this unsuspected facet to her personality. I’d have been sprawled facedown with a knife between my shoulder blades or my throat ripped out before the girl behind the counter had time to ask if I wanted my coffee regular or large.
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
The food was as sterile and uninteresting as their surroundings and they sat at a table offering them a view of black nothingness. Jethro was glad Vashti seemed content not to speak. Company on his travels was a new experience. Unwanted, unwelcome company in the form of Moncoya’s daughter had to be the worst kind of intrusion. At least he didn’t have to talk to her. No sooner had those thoughts passed through his mind than Jethro found himself wanting to question her. To discover what was going on behind those flawless features. To find out more about this exquisite enigma who, with her twin, had been Moncoya’s trained assassin.
He couldn’t talk about the night Moncoya got away. That would incite her to instant, boiling fury. In fact, it was probably best to steer clear of anything to do with her father.
“What was it like training with the Valkyries?”
Vashti withdrew her gaze from the darkness beyond the porthole and Jethro was conscious of that blue gaze assessing him. He was fairly sure he fell short of the required standard. “Demanding.” She turned away again.
“And growing up in the faerie palace?”
There was that stare again. Bland, blue and impossible to read. “Luxurious.”
This was becoming a challenge. Get her to say more than one word. “It must have been hard when your father was defeated.”
“Are you making conversation?”
He grinned. “I’m trying to.”
“Please
