They both looked sharply at me.
I shrugged. “Or maybe she just enjoyed sharing something horrible with you. But I wouldn’t bet on it.”
“Magic?” Jesse asked.
“Don’t ask me,” I said. “Maybe just the power of storytelling. It’s nearly Samhain, isn’t it? When the fae are more powerful?”
Adam frowned at me.
I gave him a grim smile. “Oh, Tilly has been talking to me, too. Interesting that she’s been leaving you alone.”
“Do we have a problem?” he asked.
“With a door to Underhill in our backyard? How could that possibly cause us any problems?” I gave him a look.
He laughed. Sometimes laughing is all that you can do.
We heard two car engines start and drive away.
“I hope it works out,” Jesse said. “Tad is exactly what she needs to give her a little confidence. And he could do with a little coddling and someone to fight dragons for.”
Adam squeezed Jesse more carefully this time. “Better they find out now,” he told her.
“Still,” Jesse said, “I wish I’d kept my mouth shut.”
“Izzy’s tougher than she looks,” I said confidently. “She’ll be okay.”
“I hope so.” Jesse turned her attention back to Adam. “And you are really okay?”
“He’s really okay,” I said. “And the only reason I’m not saying that, like Izzy, Adam is tougher than he looks is because—”
“He looks pretty tough,” Jesse agreed, finishing the old joke. She stepped away from her dad again. “So the situation worked itself out?”
“Sherwood didn’t want to kill Adam,” I said. “I told you that would save the day.” I had not been as sure of it as I’d tried to sound.
“Good.” Then she frowned. “Did you find out who he is? Was he Rasputin?”
“There are photos of Rasputin,” I told her. “And Rasputin doesn’t look like Sherwood at all.” Except a little around the eyes. “We still don’t know who Sherwood is. Was.”
“You didn’t find out?” Jesse asked. “Really? Weren’t you curious at all?”
“He’s related to Bran,” Adam told her. “Closely. Brother, son, father, uncle—something really close.”
She blinked at him. “To the Marrok? There’s a werewolf related to the Marrok that’s not Charles or Samuel? I haven’t heard of any. Have you?”
For some reason, both of them looked at me.
“No?” I said.
“You were raised in the Marrok’s pack,” Jesse insisted. “Surely someone said something?”
“Not that I recall,” I said. “I’ll call Samuel and bug him.”
“Why not ask Sherwood?” Adam said.
“Did he sound like someone who was going to spill the beans to you?” I queried. “He talks more, but he doesn’t say more. He hasn’t changed that much.” I found that reassuring. “We’ll get it out of him one story at a time.” I thought a moment. “Though I might make him go through the betting book and say yes or no, because apparently the Great Beast of Northumberland is a yes. Still, Samuel is an easier nut to crack.”
“And we haven’t heard from him in a while,” Jesse added.