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“Turning humans is considered a major crime. I would never risk your life that way.” I refastened my pants while she pondered my words. “I am lucky I lasted this long,” I added.

Brittney smirked and smoothed down her skirt. “You mean I am. I need to clean up.” She snickered before facing me. “And now we’ve both had Fae blood.”

It took me a moment to recognize she had made a comment about my skills in bed, but I ignored her, having other things on my mind.

My instinct was to never let her near Adrian or Leander again, especially since I’d just fed her my blood, but the risk in not bringing her back was greater. “They will know the instant they return. They will also know I fed you my own.”

She nodded. “Bummer all I can do is talk to crows. I suppose I can ask them to help me. I doubt the Fae want their eyes pecked out.” Excitement covered her face. “They can peck their peckers off, too.”

Chuckling, I said, “That would be effective, I’d imagine.”

She nodded. “I bet. They think they’re hot shit but wait til I chop their dicks off.” She pressed a finger on her lips and spun around on her heel. “I’ll keep them as trophies.”

If anyone ever asked, that was the precise moment I fell deeply, irrevocably, terminally in love with Brittney.

“I have plenty of formaldehyde.”

“Good.”

“No,” I said, barely restraining my laughter, “leave that here for now.” She somehow managed to grab a jar that once had crows’ eyes suspended in it.

“What if I need it?” she retorted. I ushered her towards the door. “It's best to preserve stuff right away.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Still, the jar was staying. One never knew when it would come in handy for the birds again.

“We’d prepare a fresh one for you. Didn’t you want to get cleaned up?” The idea of her stewing in my juices was appealing, but unnecessary since she now contained my blood and would never be able to wash me away.

“You’re no fun,” she complained, and trotted up the stairs.

What was she looking for? A live sacrifice? Never before had anyone ever accused me of being boring. I followed her up the stairs, wondering how this had become my life.

Not that I would change it. Somehow, within my exactingly curated life, fate had found a way to bring this woman into it. If that wasn’t destiny, I didn’t know the meaning of the word.

I didn’t want her gone, but I also didn’t know what to do with her. Her presence brought a whole new level of danger to my existence. She was a weakness that made me vulnerable—something I hadn’t been to this degree in nearly a millennium.

When we got upstairs, she walked straight into my bedroom, casting a cursory glance at the fancy cage I’d built for her, before heading into the bathroom.

She walked right back out. “I can’t go back there in this outfit.”

That was true. “No, you can’t. I’ll take care of it.” Giving me a sharp nod, she went and showered.

While she was busy, I paced. The Fae would know immediately that I’d made Brittney my own. They would smell me on her and inside her. Not only had I made myself more of a target, but I’d also done the same to her.

There hadn’t been a lot of information in the books I’d read, but the Fae were the same as any other supernatural creatures and could track the bonding between individuals and recognize who they were. I hadn’t meant to, but I had handed them the perfect tool to use against me as they tried to take their diamond back.

Brittney walked out of the bathroom, wrapped up in my robe, and with her hair dripping everywhere. She shivered, and I flicked a couple fingers her way, instantly drying her hair. She bobbed her head around before she glanced at me and giggled.

She looked at me, waiting for the clothing I promised to take care of for her. I glanced at my closet, visualizing all the dark hoodies, leggings, and boots she could ever ask for. She followed my gaze and then moved to the door.

“Oh, nice,” she said, grabbing several pieces. She rummaged around a bit before dropping the robe on the floor.

It took me several seconds before I realized I’d forgotten to supply her with underthings. Oh well.

She moved from the closet to a dresser, opening drawers and shutting them. Then, she walked to the wardrobe and got distracted by some of my more formal attire, running her fingernails along buttons and buckles.

I knew what she was doing; she was searching for a bra and panties and using the lack thereof as an excuse to peek around. There was nothing in here that could hurt her, so I stood and observed.

Every now and then, she’d toss her hair back over her shoulder after it’d fallen in her way. She even closed it in a drawer once, only realizing her mistake when her head was jolted backward.