“EARTH TO TOBY.You in there?”

“What?” I stopped mashing my eggs into my home fries to blink across the table at Connor. He was leaning on his elbows, watching me. It’s always hard to adjust to seeing him with a human disguise—I deal with him mostly at Shadowed Hills, and he has no reason to hide himself there. His hair was supposed to be speckled with gray, like his pelt in seal-form, not a standard shade of brown. His hands look weird without webbing, and I’m not used to seeing whites or definite pupils in his eyes.

Those eyes were fixed on me now, and his expression was one of earnest concern. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean, what’s wrong?” I put down my fork and brushed my hair back, trying to look casual. It wasn’t working.

“You’ve barely touched your breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Your coffee cup’s been empty for five minutes, and you haven’t threatened to track down and gut our waitress.” Connor shook his head. “I know you. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said. “I’m just tired.” I didn’t want to tell him about May. I didn’t want him trying to help; I just wanted to have it left alone until I was ready to deal. That might not be until after I was dead, but it was my choice, not his. I try to be straight with my friends when I can, but there are times I make exceptions. Right after I’ve had my death predicted by the fae equivalent of a singing telegram is one of those times.

Connor sighed, turning his attention to his own breakfast. “Have it your way.” After a pause, he added, “If this is about my wife …”

“It’s not. I haven’t given her a reason to kill me this week, and I’m not intending to give her one, either.” I smiled faintly. “I’m over you.”

“My heart bleeds.”

“It would if I weren’t over you and Raysel found out.” I took a bite of my eggs. They were cold and gummy, but I swallowed them anyway before I said, “Your heart, my heart, a lot of other body parts …”