“Zenar sends her apologiesfor the confusion,” said Lysander, the young, extremely confused Gate sworn to Kesk’s house. “Talia’s been an honored guest.”
Zenar’s house, actually. And Kesk’s mother had not been pleased to hear of her son’s side dealings. Kesk and Veroni might stand to inherit Faerie, but they led nothing, yet.
“You may send her to us here,” Everil answered, trying not to be cruel to the boy. He was no older than Talia. “I believe we’ve enjoyed quite enough of Kesk’s hospitality.”
“Hospitality,” Bo muttered, and Everil tightened his arm around him. “Fuck.”
Everil would spend the rest of his shortened life regretting what a fool he’d been, leaving Bo to Kesk’s non-existent mercy. Tasting Bo’s lemon-sharp fear and knowing what had put it there.
“Kesk won’t–” But whatever Lysander intended to say, he cut it off with a sharp shake of his head. “I’m sorry.”
The Gate departed, and Everil pulled Bo that much closer, trying to think only of this moment. Not of Declan, who had arranged this little exchange. Declan, who he’d soon owe his firstborn to if he kept asking favors of the man. Not of Nimai, the betrayal in his expression, at the end. Not of Kesk and Veroni, who weren’t the types to forgive an embarrassment.
Only of Bo. Safe in his arms.
A rush of power. A hole rent through Faerie itself, and a small figure in an oversized hoodie, taking shape from the nothingness of the veil.
“Nofair,” Talia complained as the room stitched itself together behind her. “If you’re dramatically kidnapped and held hostage, someone is supposed totellyou. Where’s the fun if you don’t know?“ She blinked at them, grinning. “Oh, you’re doing the cuddlingthing. Do you want me to come back? Lysander’s actually really nice. I taught him how to play ‘find the human.’ ”
“It’s not all that fun when you know, kid. Trust me.” Bo squeezed Everil’s arm, then moved away, toward Talia. He set both hands on her shoulders, studying her. “You okay? They keep you in hoodies while you spied on random people?”
“Of course I’m okay,” Talia answered, giggling at the possibility that she might be anything but. “They acted like you two were still doing your trials. And then all the sudden, you weren’t, and it was all ‘maybe there might have been some potentially misleading statements made.’ You know. Fae talk.”
“Yeah,” Bo echoed. “Standard fae talk.”
“The trials are well over,” Everil assured her, stepping closer to the pair. “They have accepted the truth of our bond.”
“I could have told them that.” Talia gave a little shrug, then frowned at them. “You’re wearing magic hats. Is that a trial thing? Do I get a magic hat? Iwaskidnapped, after all.”
“It was a part of our trials, but I don’t think it’s standard issue. More an Oak King, Holly King thing,” Bo said, giving Talia a final once-over before returning to Everil’s side.
“You’re not even dryads,” Talia said, brow furrowed in confusion.
Everil silently cursed his mother as he noted yet another lacking area in his ward’s education. Though, an explanation of this particular ritual would require a bit of thoughtful editing.
“Old magic,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around Bo’s shoulders to tuck him closer. “Which you will be studying, among other topics of note.”
“Besides, you’ve got an alien hat waiting for you, kid. Would an old hoodie from my teen years with a cringe-worthy faux-edgy statement on it help calm your frazzled, kidnapped nerves?”
”Iguess.” She grinned, all sunlight and mischief, then fixed Everil with a hopeful look. “It is fixed, right? All of it? You wouldn’t be talking about lessons if it wasn’t.”
“It’s fixed.” Everil wasn’t Bo. He didn’t touch Talia, for all it seemed the appropriate action. But he smiled, hoping she’d find reassurance in that. “You win, Talia. You get to keep your human guardian. And Nimai is no longer a concern.”
There were still matters to consider. The Council, mostly. But even the Council couldn’t overrule a Gate. And given the poor behavior of some of its members, Everil trusted they wouldn’t push their point regarding Bo’s profession any further. If they tried,well, Everil would see every last one of them drown before he let them take Bo from his arms.
“He’s underselling it somewhat,” Bo put in. “But yeah, kid. I’m sticking around for a good while. Like, around you and Ever. Haven’t really talked living arrangements, but we’ll figure it out.”
Talia’s face lit with a grin, and she bounced forward, throwing her arms around Bo despite the lack of available space for hugging.
“I knew it. I said you wouldn’t leave us. I told Lysander that you’d promised.” She looked up at Everil without letting go of Bo. “Are you gonna do oaths? Can I be witness?”
“You’re getting ahead of us, Talia.”
“You could do a human marriage too. With lots of crying and a cake. And someone who stands up and says, ‘I object.’ I think you need a long-lost evil twin for that part, though. Or maybe the one getting married is supposed to be the evil twin? I can never keep it straight.” She stepped back, assessing Bo with a critical eye. “Would you say you’re more of a good twin or an evil twin?”
“Definitely the evil twin. I probably absorbed the good one in the womb,” Bo answered.
How could anyone help but love a man capable of making Talia smile the way Bo did?
