I leaned closer and he went very still. Behind me, Vas cleared his throat. Wow, I was far too close to this guy. I took a careful step back, and the fae reached out a hand, grabbing my arm before I tumbled down the stairs. With my luck, I’d probably take Vas unaware and we’d both end up in a heap on the floor.

“Careful now,” Aubrey purred.

“Apologies. I’m not usually clumsy.” I shook his hand off and he stepped back.

“So if you were using glamor, you’d have no scars at all?”

“No. Right this way,” he turned and led us down the hall. “Glamor is designed to demonstrate beauty. It takes more power than most have at their disposal to still allow imperfections to peek through.”

“Interesting.”

“It is, isn’t it?” he grinned at me and stopped at a door near the end of the hall. The door was covered with the same purple vines, and he waved his hand, clearing them away. Then he held that same hand up and his ward glowed a poisonous green before it disappeared.

The door swung open.

“Wow.”

Weapons were mounted on three walls, taking up every inch of space, and yet the room was large enough that it didn’t seem cluttered. The fourth wall held shelves and lockers. My hands itched to explore, and I forced myself not to touch. This was the one place in the house I’d seen so far that was plant-free.

“I’m glad you approve.” Aubrey shifted his attention to Vas, who was silently following me. “Your bodyguard?”

I frowned at him. “My friend.”

Feathers tickled my cheek. Vas showing his appreciation.

“I meant no offense. Humans who are precious to paranormals are often guarded like the prizes they are.”

“I’m not human.” I was finally admitting it. “And I’m no prize.”

He stared at me for a long moment, and his power reached toward me. I allowed it. He didn’t mean me any harm. Aubrey dropped the jovial act and his eyes narrowed, and then widened at what he found.

“Not human,” he agreed. “But a prize… definitely.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I turned back to the weapons room. “You have quite the collection.”

“It’s something of a hobby,” he said modestly. He stepped to the side and I took in the huge room.

Other than the weapons, the room was sparse. The small table and chairs in one corner were plain, almost utilitarian. This wasn’t a room used to many visitors.

The walls and shelves held almost every gun and knife imaginable, but my eyes were drawn to the ancient weapons, kept in impeccable condition along one wall.