There wasn’t time to consider what kinds of plants Jean was looking for that made her not want the company of another witch—or what she intended to do with the plants if she found them.

“Go—” Breanna looked toward the stables. The men, warned by the hawk’s cries, were already in motion, saddling some horses, stabling others, gathering weapons that were always close at hand these days. “Go to the house. Warn Nuala. Go!”

As the boy raced for the house, Breanna and Fiona looked at each other.

“Get the children into the house,” Breanna said.

Fiona started to protest. Then she noticed Clay and her brother Rory hurrying toward them—and the hawk flying ahead of them. Nodding, she ran toward the children, who had stopped playing and were now anxiously watching the adults.

Trusting Fiona to take care of the children, Breanna set her quiver on the ground and grabbed a handful of arrows. She pushed the heads of four of them into the ground in front of her to make them easy to snatch if they were needed. The fifth she nocked in her bow, keeping her fingers light on the bowstring. Facing the woodland trail, she waited.

Sensing movement on her left, she started to draw the bow and turn when she realized it was Falco. He had changed from hawk to man, but he’d forgotten to use the glamour to hide the pointed ears and feral quality of the Fae behind the mask of a human face. Or else he had a reason for not hiding what he was.

“Black Coat?” Breanna asked softly.

Falco shook his head.

That would have been reassuring if Falco hadn’t looked uneasy, even nervous. Whoever was in the woods wasn’t an Inquisitor, but also wasn’t a friend.

She’d just turned back toward the trail when Jean ran out of the woods. The girl looked flustered, exhilarated. But not frightened.

When she was a few feet away from Breanna, Jean stopped running. She shook out her skirt, ran her hands over her hair to smooth it, licked her lips to wet them, and pinched her cheeks to bring more color to her face. “How do I look?”

Breanna stared at her. “Get in the house. There’s an intruder in the woods. Possibly an Inquisitor.”

“Is that what he told you?” Jean said, giving Falco a look that was equal parts pouty and scalding.

Any reservations Breanna had about Fiona’s suspicions and feelings were destroyed by that look.

“It isn’t an Inquisitor,” Jean said. “It’s a Fae Lord, and he’s so handsome.”

Breanna saw something cold and mean in Jean’s eyes when she realized Falco didn’t notice she now considered him an inferior specimen of a man.

“Breanna,” Falco said quietly.