Chapter 10

We parted, and his hands trailed down my neck, sending shivers up and down my back. He rested his palms on my shoulders and stepped back to meet my eyes again, still smiling, but some of that impish charm was back.

“Elijah, you are going to do fine.”

“Thanks,” I said, and couldn’t help but smile back.

By the time the rest of the gang returned, Peter and I were far enough apart that hopefully they’d never realize we’d been mouth on mouth at some point. He’d brushed my hair back into place with a quick, efficient combing—with a real comb he produced from somewhere. I never would have thought to bring a comb.

“Fairy’s gotta be prepared for anything,” he said, showing me the contents of a satchel. He had everything from a first aid kit to makeup and nail clippers.

“I think that’s actually the Boy Scouts,” I said. “Fairies don’t have any kind of established reputation for preparedness.”