“You’ve just outlawed ninety percent of DJ’s humour,” Rake commented.
“I’m sure we’ll all survive,” Kit said over DJ’s offended gasp.
“At least we’ll always have sarcasm,” Quin said, poking Kit’s side.
Kit raised a brow. “Whatever would we do without it?”
“Right, so what’s the plan for tomorrow night?” Rake asked, bringing them all back to the matter at hand. “Are we storming the nest and demanding an audience with the witches?”
Kit shrugged and looked at Quin. “It’s as good an idea as any.”
“I say we ask to speak to them first, but that can be the backup option,” Quin said.
“It’s a plan,” Shaun said, decisive enough that Quin felt confident in their idea.
“Our plans have always worked out before,” DJ agreed.
Rake frowned at DJ. “Your recollection of events doesn’t match my own.”
On second thought, Quin just hoped they weren’t completely fucked.
TWENTY-THREE
Kit
The following night,Kit woke up in his favourite place: Quin’s embrace. They’d gone back to Quin’s after catching up with Rake, Shaun and DJ, leaving the trio in Kit’s flat. He chose not to think too hard about how much cleaning would be required once those three were done with it.
“Hello,” Quin murmured into the back of Kit’s head.
Kit shuffled backwards, pressing himself against Quin’s front. “Hi.”
Quin stretched his body out, the cracks and pops telling Kit that he’d been lying there almost as long as Kit had. “Did you leave the bed at all today?” Kit asked.
“Once or twice. Got away with staying off-camera for a work check-in. Which was a good thing, ’cause I hadn’t bothered getting dressed. Figured we’d be up all night and wanted to get as much sleep in as possible.”
A pang of guilt crawled up Kit’s throat. “Are you okay with having to spend your nights awake and days asleep?”
“Wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to,” Quin said. “Good thing I’m a night owl. You ready to see Conroy again?”
“I’m going to have to be.”
Quin turned Kit over so that they were looking at each other. “We can change our course of action if you think it isn’t the right thing to do, remember?”
Kit nodded. “I know.”
“Let’s get up. The more of the night we have to do this, the better.”
They got up and showered separately, to Kit’s chagrin. Quin stated that if they went in together, they’d end up taking time that they didn’t have. Quin was correct, but Kit didn’t have to be happy about it.
“The others will probably be jizzing all over each other right now,” he complained.
“None of them take twenty minutes to do their hair,” Quin countered.
“I donottake that long.”
Quin raised a disbelieving brow but didn’t argue further.
Half an hour later—Kit hemmed and hawed over what was appropriate attire for facing down your enemies and asking them for a favour—he drove them to his flat. The trio had driven up, but they were all going to pile into Kit’s vehicle for the short trip to St Andrews, in case they needed to make a clean, quick getaway.
