“Boris’ quarters are here,” he said, nodding to one door. “Should you need him.” Ivy glanced at him. “Boris doesn’t seem… like the rest of your employees.” “He’s not,” Silas said plainly. “So that makes him…” The corner of his lips twitched. “You’re asking if he’s an Incubus.” He shook his head. “He’s not. Boris’ mother was half-Fae, which means he’s mostly mortal but with several handy tricks up his sleeve.” Ivy gaped. “Boris is Fae?” “A quarter Fae,” Silas corrected.
