A Little Night Muse(51)

                Did he mean the imp-inflicted wounds? Or did he mean his                     heart?

                No! She didn’t want to know. To know would only make leaving                     harder. She wanted the unknowing—the illusions, the dreams, the lies—as she’d                     never wanted anything before.

                She closed her eyes, feeling the steady thud of his heart                     beneath her palm. “Oh, Josh...”

                “I never had the chance to be a fairytale hero before.”

                “You already are, to me.” She pulled away from him gently.

                “We have a lot to do before sunset,” he said. “Will you help                     me?”

                Vaile had given instructions for charms woven from yarn, ashes                     of the burned imp, and slivers of iron that would ignite like a flare if a phae passed too closely. After she accidentally set                     off one of the wards, Adelyn sat on the front steps of the porch and watched as                     Josh placed the charms around the yard. She wrapped her arms around her belly,                     feeling the gray sky and the gray iron closing around her.

                “There’s a gap,” she called. “Put that one by the edge of the                     house closer to the barn.”

                Josh adjusted the distance between the charms and then returned                     to her side. “Too bad these don’t make a cow-proof fence.”

                She contemplated the odd way that the phae—so powerful in many respects—were different in the sunlit                     world. How much of the Queen’s powerful rule was merely the phae’s reluctance to leave what they knew for the strangeness of the                     realm beyond? “Maybe if your herd had phae blood.                     Half-blood offspring of minotaurs would avoid iron.”

                Josh laughed. “Good idea. You can introduce my cows to one                     after this is over.”

                They gazed awkwardly into the yard as they both realized that                         after was impossible to see. Josh ran his hand                     over one of the ferns curling up out of the snow beside the steps. The papery                     frond hissed through his fingers like a warning.

                With a rumble of curiosity, he stretched one of the golden                     fronds between his hands, and she realized it wasn’t a piece of the fern at                     all.