It had taken hours, but last night I’d finally managed to pull the weave together to Tish's satisfaction. Standing in the lady's room, I tried to hold onto that feeling of triumph as I stepped into the ivory dress Tish had handed me practically the instant I exited the elevator. It was lovely, with an empire waist and loose skirt that fell a couple of inches below my knees. Under different circumstances, I would have reveled in the soft fabric and flattering lines, but as it was my sole focus was on not ruining it by succumbing to my stomachs desire to throw up.

I was working on securing my thick waves into a twist; they were so cooperative when left down, but fought every effort to contain them, when someone knocked at the door.

"Decent?" Tish's voice came from the other side.

"Yeah, come on in," I called back.

Tish walked in. She was stunning in a gray-green dress. Secured on her left shoulder, it draped across her body in tantalizing folds that hinted at the slim curvy figure beneath.

"You like?" she turned to the mirror, examining her reflection. "I usually prefer something a little tighter," she said, running her hands over her hips. "But Grimes insists on decorum and mobility when we're working. You look quite nice," she continued, moving behind me to finish securing my hair.

"Thanks," I said, as much for the compliment as the assistance with my unruly locks. "I'm surprised you're not required to wear a uniform or something."

"There'll be plenty of the regular guard there in uniform for show. We're supposed to blend in, mingle," she said, looking up to smile at her reflection.

"And we all know who you'll be mingling with. Don't we." A cold voice coming from the door caused us both to jump. "Just remember this is work, not singles night at some sleazy bar." Agent Maher stood in the doorway, an elegant vision in white.

"Knock much?" Tish asked, her fingers clenching painfully in my hair.

"It's a public bathroom, and Grime's sent me to check on you two. We're running late, so speed it up," Maher said, stepping back and letting the door swing shut behind her.

"Maybe you'd have a good time if you took that stick out of your ass every once in a while," Tish called out, but I noticed she'd waited until the door closed and even then, she didn't say it very loud. At least I wasn't the only one who didn't seem to get along with the agent.

There was silence for the minute it took Tish to finish my hair, she was apparently still fuming, and I didn't know what to say. When she was done, I was grateful for her help, the French twist she'd managed looked far better than I could have done myself.

"So, are you ready to go?" she asked, far more chipper than I felt she should have been. This night had the makings of a catastrophe, and she didn't seem even slightly worried about it.

"Honestly, No."

"All you can do is your best," she said, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder, but any comfort she might have imparted was quickly lost when she continued. "I'm not saying no one's going to blame you if things go south, but there's not much left to do about it now, so don't sweat it."

"Uh, thanks," I said, running my hands over my skirt.

Motivational speaking was definitely not Tish's strong point, and we left the bathroom, my stomach feeling like I'd eaten a brick. Justin was standing by the elevator, the rest of the unit already inside waiting on us.

"You both look lovely," Justin said, smiling at us, holding the elevator door while we stepped in.

Tish beamed a smile at him, and despite my nervousness, I couldn't help but blush at the compliment. It was courtesy. He probably would have said it even if we'd come walking up wearing burlap sacks, but it was still nice to hear. He also looked great, him and Eurie both, in their black tuxes. If it weren't for the shifter, this would have had all the makings to be one of the best nights of my life. Of course, without the shifter, I would never have been invited to something like this.

Once in the garage, I joined Eurie and Tish in one SUV while Maher, Justin, and Grimes climbed into another. While Eurie and Tish talked about their security details, I sat in the back taking deep breaths and trying to focus on the scenery rather than the impending sense of doom that was starting to settle over me. Here was my chance to at least partly redeem myself in some small way, and I had a nearly overpowering premonition that I wasn't going to prove up to the task. I don't know what I'd do if someone ended up dying tonight because of me.

They were holding the banquet at the Spencer Estate. Any event that had the Faye crossing over was held here. It used to be the home of a wealthy eccentric who brought promising students there to study under his tutelage, but seventeen years ago, after several of his pupils managed to rip a tear in the veil, the Council confiscated the property. Though it still retained the vestige of its former elegance, with its columns and classical architecture, it was now more of an armed compound than a stately manor.

A ten-foot black iron fence surrounded the property, while guards armed with automatic weapons patrolled the perimeter and that was only the obvious security. Behind the expansive manor, out of site, was an area off-limits to all but the highest officials. An area that was guarded by so much warding, I could feel the energy even here. An area where soldiers stood, weapons pointed at an opening less than four feet wide, ready to fire if anyone dared to try to cross from the other side without permission. There would be no questions; no warnings, just a cold iron bullet to the chest. Only the very few who had successfully negotiated asylum or those escorted through for events like tonight would ever be allowed onto the property anyone else would die trying.

Pulling up to the guard house, Eurie flashed his badge, and we were quickly cleared through the first gate. As we drove slowly down the drive, I began to smell it, the pungent zing of the veil, the aroma of ozone after a storm. It was still faint but grew stronger as we drove further onto the property. It was a smell that always accompanied the connection of the veil to the other worlds, and because the tear was a permanent fixture here, the air was practically saturated with it. We continued until we were directed by a man in a suit with a glowing green stick to turn right. When we pulled into the underground parking deck, we were met by another guard, this one armed with an automatic rifle, who motioned us to stop.

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Walking up to the driver's side window, he glanced back at me as he checked Tish and Eurie's badges. He seemed to be spending an exceedingly long time examining their credentials, and I was starting to think something was wrong when the reason for the holdup became evident. A shield suddenly slammed into place, and I gave out a small squeak of surprise. The guard at the window studied us, but when no one started to change, he motioned to someone out of sight. The shield disappeared. Stepping back, he waved us through.

"I thought we weren't going to be able to use shielding," I said, from the back seat. "Why did I have to do all that work with readings if they're going to shield everyone." I was a little annoyed. I had spent the last few days terrified of failing tonight.

"Only staff and security are being checked that way. It would be a diplomatic nightmare if we did that to the delegates and guests," Tish said, as we pulled into a parking spot.

Dejectedly I followed them to the elevator. Shuffling my feet, with my head down, I knew I looked like a petulant child being drug to the dentists, but I couldn't help it. Someone might die tonight, and it would be my fault, doubly my fault, not only did I bring their killer but I would be the one responsible for him getting through security as well.

"We need to do a quick review of the layout. Then we have a security briefing," Tish said, once we were in the lobby. "Why don't you wait here," she said, indicating a row of chairs along one wall. "We'll be back as soon as we can."

Taking a seat, I resisted the urge to wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt and tried to distract myself with the organized chaos that surrounded me. The lobby was bustling with people putting together the finishing touches for the guest's arrival. Metal detectors and an x-ray machine were being set up by the front doors while two of the staff were rolling out a stretch of thick black carpet from the detectors to the massive double doors of the banquet hall. As far as I knew no one but the Council every interacted with the Faye so tonight was going to be an event. The who's who of Tuatha society wouldn't be able to pass up the chance to see Faye delegates.

A dual set of stairs to the right and left of the main banquet entrance curved up to a balcony level. No one was using the stairs, so I felt confident that they were done with preparations up there and I wouldn't be in anyone's way if I took a quick peek. None of the staff paid me any mind as I climbed my way to the second floor.

I'd never been to any kind of formal event, and I had to admit the excitement was invigorating. Leaning on the railing, I watched as dozens of people carefully placed arrangements on the table tops below. Half of the tables were decorated in the red and gold of the Winter Court while the rest were in the green and browns of the Summer Court. A dais sat against the far wall, a large banquet table with chairs along only one side. It was set with the colors of the two courts.

Back before the exile when we were three tribes, the Kings of each tribe had taken turns as ruler of our people. Each span lasted ten years before the King stepped down and his replacement ascended. When the Faye had first arrived in Otherworld, they clung to the tradition of shared power, but unsure on what kind of difficulties they would face in their new home they had decided to shorten the span of rule. One would reign from winter to summer solstice and the other from summer to winter, thus becoming the winter and summer courts. After ties deteriorated, they kept their titles though they abandoned the practice that had inspired them.

"Guess who?" a soft voice whispered in my ear as warm hands covered my eyes.

I didn't have to guess. That voice belonged to the person that, other than Amber, I had missed the most.

"Donovan," I said, pulling his hands away from my eyes. I turned around expecting to be face to face with the most beautiful set of blue eyes and thick dark lashes that ever graced the male species. Instead, I was staring at a broad tuxedoed chest.

My eyes quickly scanned upward, and I was relieved to find the friendly face I'd been expecting, only several inches higher than where it should have been. When I had left, less than an inch had separated us in height, and I had probably had a few pounds on him. Now, other than the dark black hair combed back from a high forehead there was little of the boy I used to know. The scrawny goofy kid who was always good for a quick laugh and a little good-natured trouble, the one who had been at the center of every instance of juvenile recklessness I had engaged in prior to running away was gone, replaced by the kind of boy I used to daydream about while relaxing on the beach.

He had always been cute in a sweet sort of way, but the lanky body had been replaced by a strong athletic physique and a tan that spoke of a lot of time outdoors. His eyes were as beautiful as ever; they just didn't stand out as much as they used to, now that there was so much else that drew your attention.

"I'd heard you were back," he said, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me into a tight hug.

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I leaned against him, enjoying the comfort of his arms wrapped around me, and the spicy smell of his cologne. Standing there with my cheek against his chest, I realized this was the first hug I'd had since I left. I squeezed tighter.

"Where have you been? I expected to see you at school," I said, reluctantly letting go and stepping back to look up at him.

Donovan was the one person I hadn't felt nervous about running into again, well at least not too nervous. Though Amber and I were closer friends, our friendship also came with expectations, expectations that I had failed to meet. With Donovan it was a lot freer, we enjoyed each other's company and had a good time when we were together, but there were little if any obligations. We could go weeks without seeing or speaking to each other and still fall back into the same rhythms as if we'd never been apart.

"Dad's been having me help with preparations here. The prodigal son and all, keeping a tight leash, so I don't embarrass the family legacy," he said, with a short laugh though he didn't sound as bitter as I thought he would.

Donovan Brennen belonged to one of the founding families, what most considered to be 'The' founding family and one of the rare ones that managed to have more than one possibly two children. He had three older sisters, but unfortunately, at least to his father, he was the only son. A son who Mr. Brennan had made clear on more than one occasion didn't live up to his standards of carrying on the family name.

I think a lot of Donovan's antics over the years had come from a need to have something tangible for his father to disapprove of. It was better than the disheartening belief that he simply wasn't good enough. A belief that was reinforced by the fact that magic didn't come much easier to him than it did to me. He had always struggled a little more than everyone else, something that was unacceptable for the offspring of one of the oldest families and head of the Council.

"I'm sorry, I know how much you hate this kind of thing," I said, nodding back towards the banquet preparations below. Donovan had always hated the political obligation that came with his family's name.

"It's not so bad. I've actually learned to enjoy it some," he said. "The people that are going to be here tonight have the power to move nations, both figuratively and literally. There's something exhilarating about being in the same room as them."

This kind of thing would have bored him to tears a couple of years ago; maybe it was more than his looks that had changed, not that I could get upset about that, I certainly wasn't the same person I was before. It seemed like both he and Amber had changed drastically over the last year and a half. It might be selfish, but I hoped enough of the old Donovan was still there and the old Amber for that matter.

"Well, I have to get going," he said, hugging me again. "The guests will be arriving soon. If I don't get a chance to talk to you again tonight, I'll see you at school."

"Okay," I said as he released me.

"I'm glad your back," he said, as he left.

I found myself staring at his retreating back, the brick in my stomach replaced by a fluttering sensation that seemed to have robbed me of the ability to think. He was long out of sight before I recovered my senses enough to return downstairs.

It wasn't until I was seated back in the lobby that I realized he hadn't asked why I was here; this wasn't the kind of event I would usually be invited to. Did he already know through his father, or did it just not occur to him to ask? I wasn't sure how I felt about him knowing. If anyone could overlook my transgression, he could, but I had hoped to eventually put this all behind me and forget it ever happened. The more people who knew, the harder it would be for me to make that happen.