Nothing pursued them, and no danger greeted them when they arrived. Keenan told himself that he was simply too used to there being threats, that he was worrying about his mortal strength being insufficient to protect her, that he was being foolish. None of that eased his mind, but he had no way to ask the wolf what had prompted his behavior.

The following morning, they checked out and were walking across the hotel parking lot when they were stopped by Cwenhild.

The head of the Winter Guard bowed her head to Donia. "My Queen." Then, she frowned at him. "Keenan."

He nodded in reply, but said nothing yet. The cadaverous Scrimshaw Sister still reminded him of other Scrimshaw Sisters who'd drifted through his long-ago childhood home protecting him from the world even as their mien terrified him. An angry Scrimshaw Sister was a gorgeous terror, and like the rest of the Scrimshaw Sisters in the Winter Court, Cwenhild was one of Donia's guards. Seeing her waiting was not comforting. However, she looked irritated rather than alarmed. After a lifetime of needing to assess situations quickly, he relegated this to the "not life threatening" category-which meant the interruption was unwelcome. Moreover, the stern look on her face pricked Keenan's temper. He might not be a king, or even a faery, anymore, but centuries of ruling didn't predispose him to responding well to censure.

"Is anyone dead?" Donia asked.

"No," Cwenhild said.

Keenan put an arm around Donia. "Then why are you here interrupting our first ever holiday?"

"Because there were witnesses to your . . . to . . . Human video exists of you looking very inhuman." The way Cwenhild glared at him made Keenan want to either apologize or send her away. His having had Scrimshaw Sisters as nursemaids in his childhood had the unsettling effect of his now feeling guilt when any one of them scowled at him.

"You've certainly left me a mess to fix," she said. "This business of your being human is not ideal for our queen. If you were fey, none of this-"

"Excuse me?" Keenan snarled at her. He was grateful then that his temper was easier to restrain than it had been when he was a faery regent, but even so, he had to remind himself that Scrimshaw Sisters rarely wasted time with politeness. He forced himself to say almost calmly, "I am human because our queen was-"

"Explain what happened," Donia interrupted.

"There was a camera on the ski slope last night," Cwenhild announced. "You, my Queen, were recorded creating a building in an instant after standing barefoot in a nightdress in a snowstorm a moment prior. The same video shows that building vanishing. It shows you with him"-Cwenhild nodded at Keenan-"embracing in the snow as an igloo forms around you."

"Oh," Donia murmured.

Cwenhild continued, "We had to hire mortals with technical skills. There is some sort of video page on the computer-net."

"The internet," Keenan corrected. "There are numerous video sites."

Cwenhild waved her hand. "The technician said there were many 'hits.' This is troubling. I propose killing the video maker, but as it's a human, I require your consent."

"You can't kill someone for sharing a video," Donia said resolutely. Her cheeks were tinged pink. "I apologize for causing you trouble. It's the first of Winter and-"

"My Queen!" Cwenhild interrupted. "You don't need to apologize. I'm sure you had good reason to be visible." She glanced at Keenan and, after a moment, sighed and said grudgingly, "And I suppose you aren't truly at fault. You are human because you saved my queen's life, and she loves you, and . . . I'll find a solution to this exposure before any of the other courts learn of it."

"Without killing any humans," Donia reminded her guard.

"As you wish." Cwenhild paused and shot a hopeful look at them. "I don't suppose we could destroy this internet thing?"

The laugh that slipped from Keenan's lips was quickly turned into a cough as Donia elbowed him sharply.

"No," Donia said.

Cwenhild sighed. "You might want to return home. Many, many people are seeing this video."

Behind Donia, a small group of humans were clustered. One of them pointed at Donia, and a boy who looked of an age with Keenan's mortal appearance stepped away from the group and began to walk their way. Keenan started to move so that he was between Donia and the approaching boy, but Cwenhild snagged his arm. "No."

"No?"

"You are finite, and you are valuable to my queen." Cwenhild bodily moved him behind her, and Keenan cursed the scant human strength that made it so easy for her to do so.

She'd do so if I were fey too, he reminded himself. As an average faery, he'd be weaker than the Winter Court's strongest fighters. He knew that, but logic did little to assuage his pride.

"Get in your car," Cwenhild instructed. "Sasha!"

The wolf bounded toward her. He looked every bit the feral creature he could be, and Cwenhild-despite her human glamour-didn't look much more civilized. She towered over the humans, a fierce young woman with corded muscles and an unwelcoming expression.

At the sight of her, the human boy faltered. He looked over his shoulder, and his friends came to join him.

Keenan opened Donia's door as if there was no alarm, and in reality, there wasn't true danger. Humans-like him-were no match for either of the faery women. The true danger was in gaining too much human attention. He'd lived among them for most of his life and had only the barest brushes of exposure. Now that he himself was human, he'd unwittingly contributed to the largest exposure he'd ever known of. Video of us. The wrongness of it all made him feel helpless.

Silently, he slid into the driver's seat and turned the key. Without any further attention to the words Cwenhild was exchanging with the group of humans, he eased the car around them and onto the road.

"Turn left."

"Left?"

"Left," Donia repeated. "I am not going home because of one stupid video."

"Don-"

"I am on vacation." She gave him a look, daring him to quarrel, but he wasn't going to refuse the opportunity to enjoy at least one more day with her.

He turned left.

As they drove, Donia sat quietly at his side. They were almost at the resort when she reached out and took his hand. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," he said tentatively. After a moment, he added, "What are we sorry for this time?"

She laughed, and a small cloud of frosty air brushed his cheek. "For letting my fear keep us from trying to change what you are. I don't want to make your choices any more than I'd want you to make mine. If I were mortal, I'd risk anything to be with you. I did." She took a deep breath. "I can tell myself that I might not have done so if I'd known how it hurt or knew that it could kill me, but I walked into what I thought was certain death twice out of love for you. I shouldn't try to stop you, and I shouldn't expect that you'll be happy being mortal. I can't pretend to be mortal. You can't tell me it's enough for you . . . and I don't want to try to keep my Winter leashed. Last night . . . I wanted you to be breathing the snow into the world with me. At the very least, I want you to be able to be safe from it."

He steered the car into the resort and waited until he pulled into a parking spot before asking, "Does this mean we can try to make me fey again?"

No stillness in the world could compete with the still of Winter, but he had learned centuries ago that sometimes patience was the best choice. He waited as the car filled with frosty air. He waited as Donia exited the car. He waited as they registered and checked into their room.

Then, she turned to him. "We can look at all of the possibilities before we decide what to try, but between the centuries you've lived and the centuries some of our friends have lived . . . I am willing to believe that there is an answer. We can find a way."

Several icy tears slipped down her cheeks, but when he tried to embrace her, she held up a hand. "Your word that we will only try it if we are reasonably certain you won't . . . die."

"You have my word." He knew that the things she wasn't saying were as important as the one she did say: the compromise he'd sought was what she'd accepted. Her other objections-to his servitude, to his pain-were no longer given voice. It was only his death that she was unable to accept.

He stepped forward until the hand she'd held up in a halting gesture was resting against his chest. "Now, what do we do about this video? And more importantly"-he caught her gaze-"can we watch it before it's gone?"

For a moment, she didn't say anything, but then her serious expression gave way to a mock chastising one and then to laughter. "Did I mention that you are incorrigible?"

"Not for hours."

TWO WEEKS LATER . . .

Donia and Keenan watched the "making of the new ad for Evergreen Hills Resort." In it, they were joined by various faeries pretending to film them, apply makeup, discuss costume difficulties, and one particularly entertaining segment when Cwenhild talked about the fact that their "technical team" and "effects team" refused to be seen on film because of their paranoia that they would be pressured to take on more work than they could handle.

"We thought it was all going to be ruined when someone uploaded the raw footage," Cwenhild said on the screen. "Luckily, the client thought the viral video was an asset, so it all worked out."

The video cut to a resort representative who smilingly added, "Everyone who's been to Evergreen Hills knows it's an escape from the busy lives we all lead, so we thought we'd use a campaign to show that a visit to our resort is filled with magic."

Off camera, Cwenhild snorted. "Magic."

The resort representative sighed. "If you've been on the slopes for one of our moonlight specials, it's easy to believe in magic." Pointedly, he glanced at Cwenhild. The camera followed his gaze as he challenged her. "Come see us. We can enchant even the skeptical."

As the video ended, Keenan laughed. "Your plan was genius."

"I decided what to do with the money from the ad," Donia said in a casual way. She stepped between Keenan and the monitor. "I bought several houses for the court's use."

"With one check?"

"Well, no," she admitted. "I added a bit more. . . . I thought maybe if we wanted another vacation, I could send them away for the week, and we'll stay home alone this time."

Keenan laughed again.

"And then, we could go back there on our own. . . ." The Winter Queen nestled closer to him.

He wrapped his arms around her. "Oh?"

"Since everyone keeps assuring me your plan will work, I figure we ought to start planning regular vacations." She looked up at him. "And you promised me a honeymoon too."

The joy that filled Keenan was larger than he thought he could contain. "I think we ought to have two of them, one before I become fey again and one after. Everything I-"

But the rest of the words he would say were lost as Donia pulled him to her.

Everything I could want in eternity is possible because of you, he thought, and then he stopped thinking and simply enjoyed being in the arms of the one person in all of forever who made his life complete.

Facing Facts.

by Kelley Armstrong.

*s I lay on my back, gasping for breath, I began to suspect that Tori enjoyed our self-defense lessons a little too much.

"Come on, Chloe, get up," she said, dancing around me.

"Actually, I think I'll stay down here. It's safer."

Simon walked over. As he helped me up, he whispered, "Watch her face. She telegraphs her moves."

He was right. By keeping an eye on her expression instead of her hands, I managed to evade her twice and bring her to her knees once. Then she flicked her fingers, and I went flying into a tree.

Simon sighed. "No powers, Tori. You know the rules."

"I don't like the rules."

"Surprise, surprise."

"Seriously. We're training for real-world confrontations, right? In the real world, if we're attacked by some Cabal goon, we're going to use our fighting powers."

"But Chloe doesn't have fighting powers."

"Sure she does. She has a poltergeist. Well, when Liz is around. And when she's not, Chloe has the awesome power of zombies at her fingertips." Tori waved at the woods behind our rented house. "Raise a dead bunny. It can nip my ankles while I'm throwing you down."

"And infect you with the bite of a rotting corpse?" I said.

"That would be bad." Simon turned to me. "Go for it."

As Tori flashed him the finger, I grabbed her arm and flipped her, then danced back before she could retaliate.

"Are you blind, ref?" she said to Simon. "Call that."

"Nope. Distraction is a valid-" He glanced behind me. "Hey, Dad."

I turned as his father-Kit-walked over.

"Sorry to interrupt your lessons, guys, but I need to speak to Tori."

As he led Tori into the house, I stared after them. I had a good idea what Kit was about to do-drop the bomb that would explode what remained of Tori's old life. She already knew her mother was dead. Now she was about to discover that her dad wasn't her real father. Kit was.

It had been a month since the four of us-Tori, Simon, Derek, and I-had been reunited with the guys' dad and my aunt Lauren. A month since I'd seen Kit look at Tori for the first time, and known, from his expression, that he'd heard the same rumor I had. But he'd said nothing. Not to her or to Simon.

I'd begun to think maybe he wasn't going to tell them. Maybe he didn't believe it. Or maybe he'd wanted to confirm with DNA first, and now he had the answer.

When they'd left, Simon walked over. "We'd better cut the lesson short. Somehow I don't think Derek would appreciate me wrestling with his girlfriend on the back lawn. As much as I hate to suggest homework, your aunt's going to expect us to have that biology project done by tomorrow."

We headed to the old farmhouse. Two weeks ago, Kit and my aunt Lauren had decided that, if the Cabal was coming after us, they weren't hurrying. Kit wasn't surprised. While the scientists who'd genetically modified us had been eager to get us back, the massive supernatural corporation that funded them-the St. Cloud Cabal-knew Kit would keep our powers in check. So, they could bide their time, which meant we could rent a place and try living like normal people for a while.

As we reached the house, I heard a vehicle and glanced over, hoping to see our van. When a truck drove past, I felt a pang of disappointment, but I told myself I could better support Tori post-bombshell if Derek wasn't around.

Derek is Simon's adopted brother and the guy I'm dating, though we have yet to go on what you'd call a real date. That's not Derek's fault. While we're on the road, we're pretending to be a blended family, with Kit and Aunt Lauren as our parents. That means I can't be seen at the movies holding hands with my supposed stepbrother.

Derek grumbles that it's not like we'd be blood relatives, but Kit says it would still call attention to us. We can't take that risk. So while Derek and I can go out together, we have to keep a foot apart, like at those old-fashioned dances where teachers would walk around with rulers. On the plus side, because Derek's a werewolf, we always stay in places near a forest. Derek and I spend time alone "walking" in the woods. A lot of time, actually.

When Derek did come back, he'd want to go for a walk, to relax after grocery shopping with my aunt. It'd been her idea. She'd joked that since he ate most of the food, he should help her get it. Derek had resisted. His dad had taken him aside and said he should go, get to know Aunt Lauren better and show her that this "werewolf dating her niece" thing wasn't as scary as she thought.

Right now, though, I could have used Derek's superhearing. While Simon hunted for his notes upstairs, I eavesdropped on Kit's conversation with Tori, trying to hear if he was dropping the bombshell. But I couldn't pick up more than the murmur of his voice.

Then, "No!"