There was a moment when he seemed almost ready to snarl and say, What the fuck does it look like? Yes, everything’s just fucking wonderful. Instead, he rubbed a hand over his face, and when he lowered it, that winter’s storm was gone and the cold front was back, freezing the Clarks with a stare.

“I would like you to leave now,” he said.

Walter looked at Ida, and Ida stepped back and started to close the gate.

Gabriel strode forward, so abruptly he startled them. “No,” he said. “Actually, I don’t want you to leave. I want you to fix this.”

“Fix what?” Ida asked.

He waved at me.

When they looked perplexed, I said, “He means me. Apparently, I’m broken, and it’s annoying him.”

Now I got the cold glower. I met it with one of my own. He turned back to the Clarks.

“Olivia is having visions, and—”

“Visions?” Ida worked hard to affix a proper expression of sympathy on her face, but she looked like a starving coyote spotting roadkill. “What kind of visions?”

Gabriel moved between us. She looked up at him. “What kind of visions, Gabriel? I can’t help her if I don’t know.”

He met her gaze and said nothing. After five seconds of silence, he replied with, “She is having visions. You will fix them or tell her how to fix them. Now.”

“The visions are important for—”

“For you, I’m sure. For Olivia, they’re dangerous. She spiked a hundred-and-four-degree fever after one last week. I understand that you might not be well versed in human physiology, so let me explain. At a hundred and five degrees, brain damage can occur and the fever becomes life-threatening. If you suspect me of exaggerating, please speak to Dr. Webster.”

A hundred-and-four-degree fever? No wonder he worried every time my temperature rose.

“I’m sorry—” Ida began.

“No, you’re not.”

Her lips tightened and a warning flashed in her eyes. “Yes, Gabriel, I am. You’re upset, so I’m tolerating your disrespect—”

“You will tolerate my disrespect even when I’m not upset, Ida. Or you can ask me to leave Cainsville. If I was respectful in the past, it was due to compulsion. I don’t give a damn what your plans are. I care that Olivia is being forced to watch visions of people and fae dying, horribly, for no apparent purpose—”

“There is a purpose, Gabriel. Anything she’s seeing is for a reason.”

“She’s having dangerous fevers and falling into visions in the street, ones that could have her stumbling into the path of a car. If anything happens to her, Ida, I will hold you responsible.”

“We would never hurt—” Ida began.

“Then fix this.”