A Kiss of Shadows Read Online Free PDF

seemed very sure of the names. “How many times did you see these three men?”
    She wouldn’t meet our eyes. “I don’t know. Many times.”
    â€œFive times,” Jeremy asked, “six, twenty-six?”
    She looked up startled. “Not twenty times, not that many.”
    â€œThen how many?” he asked.
    â€œMaybe eight, maybe ten, but no more than that.” It seemed important to her that it hadn’t been more than ten. Was that the magical cut-off? More than ten times and you were worse than just eight?
    â€œAnd the group sex, how many times for that?”
    She blushed again. “Why do you need to know?”
    â€œYou called it a ritual, not us,” Jeremy said. “So far there doesn’t seem much ritual to it, but numbers can have mystical significance. The number of men inside the circle. The number of times you were inside the circle with more than one man. Believe me, Ms. Phelps, this is not how I get my jollies.”
    She looked down again. “I didn’t mean to imply . . .”
    â€œYes, you did,” Jeremy said, “but I understand why you’d be suspicious of any male, human or not.” I saw the idea float over his face. “Were all the men human?”
    â€œDonald and Liam both had pointed ears, but other than that they all seemed human.”
    â€œWere Donald and Liam circumcised?” I asked.
    Her voice came out in a hurried rush, color high in her cheeks again. “Why do you need to know that?”
    â€œBecause a real male fey would be hundreds of years old, and I’ve never heard of a Jewish fey, so if they were fey, they wouldn’t be circumcised.”
    She met my eyes. “Oh,” she said, then she thought about the original question. “Liam was, but Donald wasn’t.”
    â€œWhat did Donald look like?”
    â€œTall, muscular, like a weight lifter, blond hair to his waist.”
    â€œWas he pretty?” I asked.
    She had to think about that one, too. “Handsome, not pretty, handsome.”
    â€œWhat color were his eyes?”
    â€œI don’t remember.”
    If they’d been one of the more colorful shades of eyes that the fey are capable of, she’d have remembered. Except for the pointed ears he could have been any of a dozen men at the Seelie Court. There were only three blond men at the Unseelie Court, and none of my three uncles lifted weights. They had to be more careful of their hands than that for fear they’d rip the surgical gloves they always wore. The gloves kept the poison that their hands naturally produced from rubbing off on anyone else. They’d been born cursed.
    â€œWould you recognize this Donald if you saw him again?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWas there anything the same about all the men?” Jeremy asked.
    â€œThey all had long hair like he has, shoulder-length or longer.”
    Long hair, possible cartilage implants in the ears, Celtic names—sounded like faerie wanna-bes to me. I’d never heard of a sex cult of faerie wanna-bes, but you should never underestimate people’s ability to corrupt an ideal.
    â€œGood, Ms. Phelps,” Jeremy said. “How about tattoos, symbols written on their bodies, a piece of jewelry that they all wore?”
    â€œNo to all of it.”
    â€œDid you meet only at night?”
    â€œNo, sometimes in the afternoon, sometimes at night.”
    â€œNo special time of the month, not close to a holiday?” Jeremy asked.
    She frowned at him. “I’ve been seeing him only a little over two months. There haven’t been any holidays, but no special time.”
    â€œDid you have sex with him or others a certain number of times a week?”
    She had to think about that one, but finally shook her head. “It varied.”
    â€œDid they chant or sing?” Jeremy asked.
    â€œNo,” she said.
    It didn’t sound like much of a ritual to me. “Why did you use