“Is that so?” I glanced at his ears as I caught up to him, trying to be casual. You can usually get a hint about fae heritage from the shape of their ears, and I like to know what I’m dealing with. Maybe if my mother weren’t Daoine Sidhe—the blood-workers of a blood-obsessed culture—I wouldn’t be as entranced by bloodlines. But she is, and in a lot of ways, I am my mother’s daughter.

He was half-blooded, I could tell that much; the human in him was too strong to miss, and most fae don’t freckle. Still, the curve of his ears was unfamiliar. They were too sharp for Daoine Sidhe, too delicate for Tylwyth Teg, and not long enough for Tuatha de Dannan. I let my lips part, “tasting” the air. Sometimes I can catch the balance of someone’s blood on my tongue and sound out their heritage that way. It’s not a common gift, even among the Daoine Sidhe, and a lot of folks don’t recognize it at all.

That’s why I was surprised when Alex turned, shaking his finger. “Uh-uh. If you figure it out on your own, fine, but no tricks.”

I shut my mouth, blinking. It’s not considered rude to taste the balance of the blood, but that’s because so few of us can do it that it’s never had the chance to become socially unacceptable. “You could always just tell me, you know.”

“Now where would be the fun in that?” Alex stopped walking. His hair had fallen back over one eye, making him look slightly off-balance. “I bet we could find more entertaining ways for you to try working it out.”

“Could we, now? Got any suggestions?”

He smirked. “How do you feel about breakfast?” “Most men start with dinner.”

“I can dare to be different.”

“So far, I’m not seeing much difference.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe.”

Still smirking, Alex leaned down and kissed me.

His lips tasted like coffee and clover. I blinked, startled, before leaning in and kissing him back. He put a hand on my shoulder, pulling me into a slightly better angle, and deepened the kiss, drawing it out until my head started to spin. Then he let me go, stepping backward, and asked, “Different?”

“Different,” I agreed. I could feel a blush running all the way to the tips of my ears.

“See you at breakfast.” He winked, turning to open the door behind him. “Ladies first.”

Laughing as I tried to sort through the spin of my emotions, I brushed past him into the most architecturally impossible hallway I’d ever seen. Real angles don’t bend that way. I looked back to Alex, who was barely managing to contain his look of anticipatory amusement.

So we were going to play it that way, were we? Putting on my best innocent expression, I asked, “So when were you going to tell us that we were inside the knowe?”

Alex’s amusement faded into surprise. “You knew?”

“Newsflash: you don’t usually find lace-o’-dreams flowers growing on mortal lawns. Plus? The sky was the wrong kind of blue.” I shrugged. “I’m guessing we crossed worlds when we came through the front door.”