Dead Reckoning

even know what they are. Why would they end up with you two?”
    “Because they have nowhere else to go,” Dermot said simply. “They were all shut out. Some on purpose, like Claude, and some not . . . like me.”
    “So Niall closed off access to Faery and left some of his people outside?”
    “Yes. He was trying to keep all those fairies who still wanted to kill humans inside, and he was too hasty,” Claude said. I noticed that Dermot, whom Niall had bespelled in a cruel way, looked dubious at this explanation.
    “I understood that Niall had good reasons for closing the fae off,” I said slowly. “He said experience had taught him that there’s always trouble when fairies and humans mix. He didn’t want the fairies to crossbreed with humans anymore because so many of the fae hate the consequence—half-breeds.” I looked apologetically at Dermot, who shrugged. He was used to it. “Niall never intended to see me again. Are you two really so anxious to go into the world of the fae and stay there?”
    There was a pause that might be called “pregnant.” It was clear that Dermot and Claude weren’t going to respond. At least they weren’t going to lie. “So explain why you’re living with me and what you want from me,” I said, hoping they’d answer that one.
    “We’re living with you because it seemed like a good idea to be with the kin we could find,” Claude said. “We felt weak cut off from our homeland, and we had no notion that there were so many fae left out here. We were surprised when the other stranded fae in North America began to arrive at Hooligans, but we were happy. As we told you, we’re stronger when we’re together.”
    “Are you telling me the whole truth?” I got up and began pacing back and forth. “You could have told me all this before, and you didn’t. Maybe you’re lying.” I held out my arms to either side, palms up. Well?
    “What?” Claude looked affronted. Well, it was about time I served him up what he’d been dishing out. “Fairies don’t lie. Everyone knows that.”
    Right. Sure. Common knowledge on the street. “You may not lie, but you don’t always tell the whole truth,” I pointed out. “You certainly have that in common with vampires. Maybe you have some other reason for being here? Maybe you want to be around to see who comes through the portal.”
    Dermot shot to his feet.
    Now we were all three angry, all three agitated. The room was full of accusation.
    “I want to get back into Faery because I want to see Niall once more,” Claude said, picking his words. “He’s my grandfather. I’m tired of receiving the occasional message. I want to visit our sacred places, where I can be close to my sisters’ spirits. I want to come and go between the worlds, as is my right. This is the closest portal. You’re our closest relative. And there’s something about this house. We belong here, for now.”
    Dermot went to look out the front window at the warm morning. There were butterflies outside and blooming things and lots of gorgeous sunshine. I felt a wave of intense longing to be outside with things I understood rather than in here, engaged in this bizarre conversation with relatives I didn’t understand or wholly trust. If reading his body language was a reliable gauge, Dermot seemed to share the same mixed and unhappy feelings.
    “I’ll think about what you’ve said,” I told Claude. Dermot’s shoulders seemed to relax just a hair. “I have something else on my mind, too. I told you about the firebombing at the bar.” Dermot turned around and leaned against the open window. Though his hair was longer than my brother’s and his expression was more (sorry, Jason) intelligent, it was scary how much they looked alike. Not by any means identical, but they could certainly be mistaken for one another, at least briefly. But there were darker tones in Dermot than I’d ever seen in Jason.
    Both the fairies nodded when I mentioned the firebombing. They looked interested, but uninvolved—a look I was used to seeing from vampires. They didn’t really care a whole hell of a bunch about what happened to humans they didn’t know. If they’d ever read John Donne, they would have disagreed with his idea that no man is an island. Most humans were on one big island, to the fairies, and that island was adrift on a sea called I Totally Don’t Care.
    “People talk in bars, so I’m sure they talk in strip clubs. Please let me know if you hear