He turned his head and leveled me with clear blue eyes. I patted his head and his eyes closed, like he really liked head pats and scratches and wanted more. I felt something ripple inside the room, and instantly went on guard. My heart raced as the thought of the Fae who had killed my parents flashed inside my mind. I reached into the cushion, pulling out one of the handguns. This wasn’t happening.
I felt someone sift in behind me. I turned and took aim, but Ristan was faster. He disarmed me and swore. “Flower, what the hell are you doing with a gun? Ryder felt your panic.”
I growled, but ignored him as I disarmed him and took my gun back. “Something isn't right. Can’t you feel that?”
Ristan turned his strange silver and black swirling eyes to the walls that had started to glow red with warning. The wards were reacting to something, and they only did that when something bad was inside the house, or close to it. “I don't feel anything. Your wards on the other hand…” He smiled and lit up his brands.
“Something is coming,” I warned. “Mister Fancy—fuck!” I shouted as I watched my dog shift.
Into a person.
“Nooooo! You turn back into a fucking dog this minute!” I shouted, stomping my feet as Ristan barked with laughter until he doubled over from it.
“Only you could go to the pound and pick out a Shifter, Syn.”
My dog was a Shape-shifter. A twenty something boy sat where my dog had just been, with lanky red hair and bright blue eyes. He was screaming with pain as he changed to his human form and the wards were showing him no mercy. Alden had just told me that the wards were to keep out certain castes of the Fae, most likely Horde…were the Shifters from Faery too, and part of the Horde? Was Ryder Unseelie—the Horde? My mind shifted back to what I had glimpsed in his eyes a little over a week ago at the ball—like an animal was lurking there…his face shifting subtly, and the glimpse of fangs I know I had seen. The rumors about the Dark Prince were pretty consistent about him being one of the most powerful Fae out there.
Ristan watched as I put it together and shook his head. “I wouldn’t let your mind wander in that direction, Synthia. Nothing good ever comes from making assumptions.”
“Is Ryder the Horde King? The timing is about right. The rumors started about twenty years ago, and Ryder has been here for about fifteen of those years. He can't enter my house, his comments…” I stopped as Ristan turned to face me with cold merciless death in his beautiful eyes.
“Sorry, Syn, you're wrong.”
“No, Ristan, let her assume,” Ryder said from the doorway where he stood at the threshold. “The boy needs to get out of the house.”
We all looked down to where Mister Fancy Pants was writhing silently in pain. Ristan easily picked the now red-headed boy up and took him outside where it looked like he had immediate relief. I watched Ryder where he stood outside my door.
“You’re the Horde King,” I whispered.
“Is that what you think, Syn? That I'm the mythical Horde King?” He tilted his head and smiled coldly. Unfriendly.
“The wards…shifters must be part of the Horde, and the timing—it's too right,” I smiled, thinking how I'd just hit the nail on the head.
“And you think the wards only work on the Horde?” he asked carefully.
“I think you're the Horde King, Ryder, and that you're after something.”
I looked down to where his feet were on the other side of the threshold. He couldn't come inside the house. He’d had to pull me outside yesterday since he hadn't been able to come in, and the wards had landed him flat on his ass once already. “Alden said the wards protected, and that my parents had been hiding me from evil.”
“Ah, so naturally you think I'm evil.”
“I’m not quite sure what to think yet, Ryder.”
He stepped over the threshold and strode inside until he stood inches in front of me. “I already have you, Syn, and as you can see, the wards are not reacting to me. Still think I'm him?”
I eyed the wards and looked back to Ryder. No strain showed on his face. Ristan stood with the naked shifter on my porch as Ryder's men stood on my dead lawn, watching the standoff. “But last time…?” I asked, looking up to meet his eyes.
“Last time the wards must have reacted, because a Fae was inside the house. They hadn't been active for a while. Perhaps they reacted to the fact that a Transitioned Fae was inside their protection. Who knows why they reacted to me. Inactive wards are unstable at best. They had been left unattended and un-strengthened for a very long time. You’re smart enough to figure that out.”