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be pretty vacant right now.”

“Likely the case. Do you want to talk about what’s been bugging you all morning on the way?”

His direct question hit her in the gut. But what option did she have? She needed to know whether he was a threat. She needed to understand why he’d said what he did on the phone last night.

She had not become a person who shied away from the truth. No, she sought the truth like a cat hunting mice.

She shot him what must have been her hundredth side-eye of the day. “It’s just that, if I assume I’m in danger, then how do I know who’s safe to be around? How do I trust any of these fae I haven’t seen in nearly a decade?”

“That is a fair question. It’s why I am here to watch over you.”

Becka stopped in her tracks, turning to face him. “And how do I know you’re not the murderer?”

Quinn chuckled, his broad smile unfairly radiant, considering her nerves. “I appreciate you considering all of the possibilities. It’s very detective-like.”

She threw her hands up. “And?”

The smile leaked out of his expression like a fizzled balloon, his confusion palpable. “Are you serious?”

She nodded, steeling her nerves. “Yes. We’ve just met. I don’t know you and House Rowan doesn’t appear to trust you. Being my bodyguard would be a fantastic way to keep me close until you kill me.”

He crossed his arms, resting his chin on his thumb, his brow arched with humor. “If that was my goal, then why are you still alive? Why not just kill you as soon as we crossed over into fae territory?”

“I have some theories. First, the Rowan were expecting me, which would have made it difficult to avoid questions. Second, killing me here would be a challenge as there are eyes everywhere. But if you wait for the trip back, no one will even notice. Aunt Lydia would, but that’s one fae to mollify, not dozens.” Becka tapped her foot, watching his face for a reaction, but he was cool as a cucumber. “But you’re supposed to answer questions here, not ask more.”

The attempt at humor faded from his expression and hung somewhere around flummoxed. He cut his chin to the right, his indication of grudging agreement. “I am pointing out that I have had ample opportunity, and I am not lacking the skill necessary. If I wanted you dead, you would be dead by now.”

A chill ran down her spine, but was it due to his mostly direct statement, or to the prospect of feeling particularly mortal?

“So, I can trust you’re no threat to me?”

“I am the last person you need to worry about, Becka. I would neither hurt you nor allow you to be hurt.”

His unequivocal statement paired with the sincerity in his expression hit home for her. There was a touch of genuine, pained hurt in his gaze that cinched the deal. She sighed in relief, releasing a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She must not have understood his conversation with his boss in context? After all, she’d only heard one side.

And she didn’t want to admit to eavesdropping now, either. Instead, Becka pivoted, pressing her luck. “Do you know why Tesse was killed?”

“I told you the investigation has not turned up anything certain.”

“Right, but do you know why she was killed?”

He stepped in close to her, speaking softly. The telltale curl to his lip had returned, and damn him if she didn’t find it fetching. “Why are you so convinced I know the answer?”

At that moment her Aunt Astrid came around the bend of the trail, descending upon them with a dark and stormy expression a hurricane would feel jealous of. Calder followed hot on her heels.

Becka took a step back, steeling herself for the coming storm. “Why is this week just getting harder and harder?” she muttered.

“You are the one who came back home,” he replied.

Becka gasped. “I can’t even.”

“Voluntarily, I might add,” he whispered, flashing her a quick smile. “I do not know what you were thinking.”

Becka resisted the urge to smack Quinn on the shoulder. How could he infuriate and amuse her at the same time? It was unfair how easy it was to fall back into their pattern of facile banter when just last night she’d overheard him plotting on the phone. Yet he said he wasn’t a threat, she reminded herself, and he couldn’t lie. Unless that was a lie?

Argh!

A moment later, an irate Astrid and red-faced Calder caught up with them.

Chapter 13

“The last time we spoke I afforded you the benefit of the doubt. I thought, perhaps, she’s genuine. But I will play the fool no longer,” Astrid said. “Explain yourself.” Her expression was a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

“What did I do?” Becka replied, rolling her eyes. “You’re the one who did it.”

“Do not be ridiculous,” Calder replied. “I will not allow you to shift the blame away from yourself. It is clear you returned home looking for a bear to wrestle, but instead you are the bear lumbering around, causing a ruckus. What are you trying to prove?”

Becka shot a look toward Quinn. He frowned at her, looking her up and down. What, did he doubt her now too? The utter irony of his doubt, after what she overheard last night, had her reeling.

She took and held a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Becka refused to give in to the temptation to respond in temper, despite her frustration. She refused to give in to the fae predilection to dramatize every situation. Becka had moved beyond such behaviors when she’d moved beyond their territorial boundaries.

She longed for her hot pepper sauce.

“Can you slow things down for me, because I have no idea what you’re talking about? I left the glen when Astrid snubbed me with the flower trick. I’m sure everyone noticed how you wouldn’t allow the petals to touch me.”

The sour look on Astrid’s face spoke volumes, as if she’d eaten something distasteful

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