“It won’t,” he said, sounding more himself. “I know that. I just…” He ran a hand through his hair, setting it tumbling over. “I need a solution, Olivia. I must fix this, and the only thing I can come up with is running. Fleeing. Which I would do in a heartbeat if it would make any difference.”

“We’ll figure—”

“Do you know what I really want to do?” He turned to me, leather squeaking. “I want to say yes. Fine. All right. Let the sluagh be your choice. What does it matter to you? Really, what does it matter? There, the sluagh have your favor. Decision made. We’re leaving now. Going as far as we can, and the fae and the Hunt and the sluagh can deal with the fallout after we’re gone.”

“It’s not—”

“—not that easy. I know. It can’t be. But what does it matter?” His gaze locked on mine. “No, really, what does it even mean to give one of them your favor? They talk and they talk, and they say nothing, and I’m so damned sick…” Another rake through his hair. “And I’m taking it out on you. You’re the one they threaten, and how do I respond? Start shouting and cursing.”

“Mmm, pretty sure shouting is louder. And cursing requires more than a single ‘damned.’ I can show you cursing if you’d like. I’m certainly in the mood.”

“Which is my point. I’m making this about me. I’m upset. I had to leave. You needed to tag along and listen to me rant. I’m sorry.”

“Given how rarely you rant, Gabriel, I’m fine with it. And honestly, right now, I just feel numb. You’re ranting for me, and I’m okay with that, because I’m sitting here, doing exactly what the sluagh said I would. Trying to be logical. What if they undid my cure? How could I prepare myself for that? Except it’s not just that—it’s the threats against you and—”

“Not my primary concern at this moment.”

“But it’s mine. If they undid my cure, I could live with it—I’d have to. The rest?” I looked at him. “I can’t. I just can’t. That’s where they have me, and yet you’re right that I don’t even know what they have me for, what exactly it means to give them my favor.”

Another car came up behind us as we sat, still stopped at the intersection. The driver honked. Honked again. Then he jabbed his middle finger at us as he passed. Gabriel didn’t even seem to notice. He sat motionless, staring straight ahead until he took out his phone.

“May I have Ioan’s number?”

I gave it to him. When Ioan answered, Gabriel gave him instructions. Instructions that I knew would not go down easily.