Grave Destiny (Alex Craft, #6) - Kalayna Price Page 0,2

an eerie effect.

“My father mentioned you’d be coming, but he didn’t tell me anything about the case you’re bringing.”

The prince cocked his head to the side, a look of genuine bewilderment crossing his features. “Your father?”

My frown deepened. “He didn’t send you?” But I could already read the answer before he shook his head.

“I’ve not seen nor spoken to him in months.”

Right. So then was this not the case he’d mentioned? And if not, what was Dugan doing here? Not just in my lobby, but in Nekros City. “What can I do for you?”

“That is your . . . office?” He said the last word as if it were a foreign concept to him, but he nodded toward the door I’d emerged from when I’d heard the bell chime. “You usually take clients there?”

I nodded, stepping aside as I gestured to the door. He didn’t hesitate, but swept past me, the misplaced shadows following him into my small office. I stared after him for a moment, wondering again what the hell he was doing here. Nekros City was winter court territory, and I was fairly certain the Winter Queen would take none too kindly to the presence of any shadow fae in her land, let alone the prince of their court.

As if summoned by my thoughts, the front door burst open and the queen’s knight, Falin Andrews, stormed into the lobby. His movements were smooth and lethally efficient as his icy blue eyes made a quick sweep of the room. When his gaze fixed on me, relief softened the hard planes of his handsome face as he assessed that I was safe and seemingly alone.

“Come on, we have to go,” he said, holding out a gloved hand toward me. “The prince of the shadow court has entered Nekros.”

Aside from being the Winter Queen’s knight—her bloody hands she sent to do any dirty work she might have—Falin was also the head of the local Fae Investigation Bureau, my one-time-only lover, a housemate of sorts, and a friend. It was impossible to miss the fact that he’d been worried when he’d entered. Which meant he really wasn’t going to like what I was about to say.

“I know. He’s here.”

Right on cue, Dugan stepped out of my office. Falin’s gun was in his hands and aimed at the fae behind me before I even had time to register that he’d drawn the weapon.

“I claim the right to open roads,” Dugan said, opening his palms in a gesture clearly meant to show he was not going for a weapon.

Falin didn’t lower the gun. “That custom was intended for use by independents, not a Sleagh Maith prince.”

“Still, all the same, I can claim it.”

I frowned between the two of them. “Is someone going to explain what’s going on? What is the right to open roads?”

Falin’s eyes flickered toward me, but he kept his gun trained on Dugan a moment longer before he apparently decided he wasn’t going to shoot the prince and lowered the weapon. But while it wasn’t trained on the other fae anymore, he didn’t holster it.

“The right to open roads is a very old agreement the courts made that dates back to a time when communication and travel were more difficult. It gives an outside fae the right to pass through the mortal realm territories of a court in which they don’t belong as long as the two courts are not at war and the fae is not banished, exiled, or otherwise named an enemy of the court. It can only be invoked once a year and only for twelve hours.” He nodded to Dugan. “You have your token?”

Dugan reached into his pocket—causing Falin’s hand to visibly flex on his gun. The prince didn’t miss the movement. His eyebrows rose, but he kept his motions slow as he pulled a small stone from his pocket and held it up for Falin to examine. A deep blue light pulsed in the center of the stone. I couldn’t be sure, but I was guessing the “token” marked that his twelve hours were still in effect.

“Fine.” Falin barked out the word, less than happy but bound by the laws of Faerie. “Now shouldn’t you be using your open roads to move along?”

“I am also invoking the Sanctuary of Artisans.”

If Falin’s glare had been frosty before, it now turned subzero and he spared a flicker of it for me.

“Wait, the what of the who? What am I missing here?” I asked, glancing between the two men.

“What