I narrowed my eyes at him, still feeling defensive on Lachlan’s behalf. “So what you’re saying is that because you’re Sidhe, you’re better than him?”
I expected him to say something placating. Instead, he just looked me in the eye and said, “Yes.”
I blinked in shock. There were a lot of people in this world who thought they were better than everyone else, but I couldn’t ever remember hearing anyone actually admit they felt that way.
“Lachlan is a troll,” my father continued. “He wears a human glamour—if he didn’t, even Grace wouldn’t have been able to bring him in legally—but that doesn’t change what he is beneath.”
I felt sick to my stomach. Dad wasn’t just a snob—he was a bigot. I had wanted to like him, maybe even love him eventually, but I couldn’t imagine liking a bigot.
Dad leaned toward me, and it was all I could do not to lean away in response.
“The Fae of Avalon play at being human,” he told me, “but we’re not. We will always be creatures of Faerie first, citizens of Avalon second. Some young bucks like Alistair Leigh think they can change that, but the Fae do not change. We will never be an egalitarian people, nor will we ever break free from the Courts.
“We belong to the Court of our parents, and we belong to that Court as long as we live. Anyone who says otherwise is either deluded or naive.”
I had a feeling there was a subtle message in my father’s words. We belong to the Court of our parents. In other words, even though I’m half human, I “belong” to the Seelie Court. Of course, he’d already given me that message when he’d sent me the cameo. I just hadn’t been able to read it.
“That is the reason tensions always run so high when it is time for a Fae to take the position of Consul,” my father continued. “Whether the Consul is Seelie or Unseelie matters little to Avalon’s human citizens, but to the Fae…” He shuddered theatrically, then flashed me another rueful smile. “I’d like to hate your mother for spiriting you away, not even letting me know you exist.” The smile faded, and he sighed. “But try as I might, I can’t blame her.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything at all. I could blame my mom for a lot of things she’d done, but trying to keep me out of Avalon wasn’t one of them. If I’d known the truth from the beginning, I never would have come.
I leaned forward to put my cup, still half-full, on the table. As if it had a will of its own, the cameo slid out from beneath my shirt. I was sure my dad noticed, though he didn’t say anything. It would probably have been a good time to confront him about sending it to me without explaining the significance, but I just didn’t want to deal with that bit of subtle deceit right now.
“I never did finish answering your question,” my father said, and I was relieved he didn’t force the issue of the cameo. “You are protected in the house because of the strength of my spells. Outside the house, you are vulnerable, so you must never leave the house alone.”
My heart sank. Maybe Dad was going to keep me prisoner just like Aunt Grace.
“I will hire a … companion for you,” he continued. “When you leave the house, you must be with me or with your companion.”
“By ‘companion,’ you mean, like, a bodyguard?” That idea was just too weird for words.
“Something like that, yes. It’s for your own safety.”
Yeah, and it was supposedly for my own good that Grace had locked me up. However, I knew an argument I couldn’t win when I heard it, so I didn’t bother trying. At least I wouldn’t be cooped up all day anymore. Maybe I’d even get to see some of the nice spots in Avalon instead of exploring dark, creepy tunnels in the heart of the mountain.
That idea perked me up a bit, and I managed a tentative smile for my dad. I wasn’t too happy about the whole bigotry thing, but other than that, Dad seemed relatively nice. I had my own clothes, and an almost-comfortable room to call my own. And I would finally have a chance to play tourist, if only for a little while.
Things were looking up.
chapter sixteen
Dad took me out to lunch at a quaint sidewalk café in the heart of Avalon’s shopping district. Avalon is one of the last hold-outs in the battle against chain stores and fast food restaurants. Most of the stores were mom-and-pop types, and the restaurants were unique. But even Avalon isn’t immune to the changing times. Right across from the café where we ate lunch, there was a Starbucks, and a little ways down the street, there was a Gap.
The “companion” Dad had hired joined us just as we were finishing lunch. I was leaning back in my chair, doing a bit of people-watching, when a man caught my eye. He was striding toward us purposefully, and he looked like he’d just come from Central Casting after auditioning for the part of a secret service goon. Tall, muscular, unsmiling, wearing a dark suit and—get this—dark glasses. All he needed was one of those curly rubber thingamabobs hanging from his ear and he’d be perfect.
Dad smiled when Secret Service Man approached, standing up and holding out his hand. Secret Service Man didn’t smile back, although he did shake hands and nod something that might have been a greeting.
“Perfect timing, Finn,” Dad said. “We were just finishing up.” In fact, the waitress chose that moment to dart by and return Dad’s credit card. He signed the receipt without even looking. “I’d like you to meet my daughter, Dana.”