“We can’t hide here.” She walked to a wooden fence surrounding the trash bins. When she pressed her hand to it, her skin changed to tree bark. “And this…?” She put her hand against the hotel wall, which made it look like a tree limb growing up the brick. “Even worse. The best we can do is try to blend in with the humans. Fortunately, we’re good at that.”

“Uh-huh.”

She waggled her finger at me. “Don’t mock. We are. Watch.” She turned to the boy. “OMG, Mrs. Phipps is a total bitch. Did you see what she gave me on that English essay? I worked for, like, a whole hour on it.”

“Yeah, and Chem is totally kicking my ass this year. If I don’t pull up my mark, Dad’ll take away my car keys.”

“That sucks. Poor baby. Here, let me make it better.”

She kissed him, just a quick kiss at first, but he pulled her into a deep one that left her laughing and catching her breath.

“So…you’re not brother and sister?” I said.

“What?” they said in unison.

“I thought you were siblings.”

“Eww,” she said.

“That’s gross,” he said. “And unsanitary.”

“I don’t think that’s the word for it,” she said.

“It should be.” He looked at us. “We’re mated. Married, as humans might say. Have been for a very long time.”

“Very, very long,” the girl said. “We’re old.”

“Incredibly old.”

“Almost dead,” she said. “But not yet. Which is why we’re always looking for fun. Fill in our twilight years with excitement.”

“That’s where you come in. We’re stuck—temporarily—on your other mystery, so we’ll take this one. What do you need?”

“Ooh, let me guess,” she said. “You want to find the person who left that blood trail. We can do that.”

I eased back. “I’d say go for it, but she’s almost certainly in the city, which you hate.”

“We’ll survive. Can we use the cŵn?”

The boy frowned. “Why don’t they use the cŵn?”

“Good question.”

Both looked at us expectantly. I glanced at Lloergan. I’d been considering asking her for help, but the rogue Huntsman who’d enslaved her had forced her to track humans and fae, and not for the reasons a cŵn is supposed to track.

“Lloergan?” Gabriel said. “Could you help?”

“Is that her name?” the boy asked.

“It means moonlight,” the girl said.

“You know Welsh?” I said.

“We know many things.” Again, she tried—and failed—to look suitably crafty and mysterious. Then she added, “It is a lovely name.”

“An excellent name,” the boy said.

“If nearly impossible to pronounce. Much harder than ours.”

She gave us another expectant look. We hadn’t asked their names. I’d been avoiding that, actually. It implied a future relationship.

“What are your names?” Gabriel asked, surprising me.