The Hob (The Gray Court 4) by Dana Marie Bell Page B

again?”
    The silky threat in the water horse’s voice was clear to Robin, but Wyght didn’t appear to notice. “I’ll be bringing that little fact up with Her soon. You’ll be sent packing. Why you were even allowed out of that loch you were haunting, I’ll never understand.”
    “Maybe because I’m more useful than some pansy fairy with his head in the clouds.” McNeil laughed, the sound surprisingly sweet. “That doesn’t work on a fae of the water, Wyght.”
    Robin tilted his head in surprise, but kept his gaze glued to the knitwear on the table he’d moved to. McNeil was resistant to a Sidhe’s glamour? Intriguing. He’d been aware water fae had a slight resistance to mental manipulation, but to find one who laughed in a Sidhe’s face? He was either older than Robin had assumed, and therefore careless with his kills, or he had some special resistance Robin was unaware of. He’d have to ask Duncan when next he saw the Sidhe Lord. Duncan, at just over five hundred years old, was a powerful Sidhe, one who could influence any but the strongest of minds.
    “Be aware, any one of these seemingly innocent humans could be the Hob. From now on, we stay silent unless we’re in the privacy of our rooms. No more panicking, Wyght. I mean it. You wouldn’t want your Clan to be without a leader, would you?” There was a sweet-sounding chuckle, and the sound of footsteps. The scent of each uisge faded, leaving the sour stench of fear behind.
    “One day, I’m going to cut him up and turn him into glue.”
    Robin grinned and heartily concurred.

Chapter Eight
    “Michaela?”
    She turned, dazzled once more by Ringo’s good looks and winsome smile, but something about his appearance bothered her. The diamond studs in his ears were hot, but… “Are you wearing lip gloss?”
    Ringo put his hand to his mouth, wiped it, and showed her his palm. It was clean, the shine she’d imagined no longer present. “Why on earth would I wear lip gloss?”
    She relaxed. She’d probably just imagined it. Ringo wouldn’t make a date with her and then be with someone else. Would he? “At a fairy convention? You have to ask?”
    Moira, who’d stuck with her most of the day, giggled. She’d made a hell of a companion, snarky and sweet at just the right moments. She’d turned some surprisingly dull workshops into something Michaela would remember for a long time to come.
    “Believe me, my sweet. My interest is solely in the fairer sex.”
    She tilted her head, and forever after she’d say the devil made her do it. “You could be a transvestite, like Eddie Izzard.”
    Ringo blinked, his expression shocked. Maybe she shouldn’t tease him.
    Jaden, on the other hand, had the most impish grin on his face. “You know, there are a lot of movie titles that would be a lot more fun if the word transvestite were part of it. Day of the Transvestite Triffids , for instance.”
    Moira grinned. “ The Transvestite Son of the Mask .”
    “ Freddie the Transvestite Got Fingered .” Michaela stumbled as Ringo came to a dead halt. “What?”
    Ringo’s dark brows quirked upward. “I thought that movie was made.”
    A tall, cool blond put his arms around Jaden and Moira, tugging them close. “There are a lot of movies that would have been better with a transvestite in them. Like Showgirls .”
    Jaden relaxed into the blond’s embrace. “That was a movie about transvestites.”
    Michaela shot a look at Ringo, who winked. She turned back to the blond, who was watching her interaction with Ringo with some amusement. “Duncan, I presume?”
    “And you must be Michaela.” He held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Moira enjoyed her morning with you. Thank you for that.”
    Michaela smiled. The affection on his face for both his partners was obvious. “We had fun, even if she did mock me in wing building class.”
    Moira laughed. “I don’t think that instructor will ever recover. She was muttering something about whiskey