Fighting to stay calm and ready, Rick listened hard for movements in the farmhouse. He thought he heard water running and boots descending stairs. Perhaps the fae had been resting up for having another go at Cass’s dad. The back door creaked open on old hinges. The faerie’s slow heartbeats came closer, though his feet made no noise striding through the grass. Maybe soundlessness out in nature was a faerie trait. Cass had moved almost silently through the woods. Then again, maybe this fae was using his power to levitate. Rick didn’t get a chance to check. The sparkly pureblood appeared in the opening to the barn, visible from the side of Rick’s vision. Rick froze and held his breath. He should have asked if Cass’s spell muffled sounds. “So, keeper,” the faerie said, not looking around at him. “I assume by your struggles that you’re ready to talk again.” A different sort of light ignited in the shadows near the tractor. Cass had begun firing. Somewhat to Rick’s surprise, she winged Ceallach’s right shoulder.
