“Deja vu,” Everil murmured. How odd they must look. Robin struggling not to jitter in place, Everil almost entirely still. “Your brother is brash, ill-mannered, and distressingly reckless. All traits that led me to grow incredibly fond of him before our relationship deepened. I promise you that I like Bo. Because of those mannerisms you list, not in spite of them.”
“Good. They’re why I like him too. Wait until you see him with fans. It’s a trip.” Robin pushed off the doorframe, his fingers idly tapping at his leg. “This is the part where I would tell you that if you do wrong by him, there’d be a tire iron. But we got that out of the way. Bo’s more capable of taking care of himself than I am, anyway.”
Silence, but for the night insects and the cars on the nearby road. Everil waited, not wishing to interrupt when Robin was so clearly considering what else to say.
“Welcome to the family, I guess.”
He would have been more comfortable with a threat than a welcome. But, like his brother, Robin was kind. And Everil, awkward and unsure of the Protocol, would have to muddle through, attempting not to offend.
“My thanks. Bo values you and your aunt above all else.” Everil managed a little haltingly. Robin didn’t, yet, look offended. “I fear I’m out of practice with ‘family.’ But what Bo values, I value.” He allowed his glamour to slip, just barely. The moon in his eyes. The scent of running water. A stallion’s shadow. “My oath on it. I intend to do my best by you all.”
Robin stared at him, and Everil allowed it, neither of them speaking. Again. It seemed theirs was to be a game of silences.
“Bo know you do that?” Robin asked at last.
“Yes.”
“Course he does. Fuck.” Robin shook his head, that sharp smile back on his lips. “I’m going inside.”
“My thanks for the conversation.”
Everil watched the man go, unsure of whether he’d made a good impression or a poor one. Well, it was done. Perhaps it wouldn’t be seen as inappropriate if he sought out Bo, now. He, too, could use the rest. And more than that, the comfort of his bond’s nearness.
Chapter thirty
Bo
Bo stood at thefront door of the house he’d last seen burning, his hand in Ever’s. Leaves rustled at Bo’s ears as Faerie settled around them, while holly leaves and red berries bloomed in Ever’s dark hair.
No fire, this time. No looming threat from the Council. When the summons finally came, it’d been polite. No apologies, though, just like Ever’d warned. Still that sick, scared feeling twisting in Bo’s stomach. Not as bad, butfuck, it’d been a bad time.
“You said it was only this big sometimes.” Bo glanced sidelong at Ever. “Wanna show me the rest of the time?”
Ever nodded as his glamour fell away. The air smelled of old places lost to time and freshly peeled citrus, a hint of moisture where there’d been only arid stillness. Bo felt it, the way Faerie’s magic rushed to them, reached up as the house bled away like watercolors.
In its place stood a cabin maybe a quarter of the size. Well-aged dark wood and creeping vines, solid and sound. More than big enough for three, but Bo didn’t think he’d get lost wandering around it.
“Rustic,” Talia said. “You remembered I need a room, right?”
“Of course. There’s even a lavatory, all for you.”
Talia flashed him a grin and pushed the door open, making her way straight up the stairs. “I’m gonna decorate. You two call me when it’s time to go.”
“Have fun, kid,” Bo called after her. “Make good choices.”
Before following her in, Bo turned, curious to see if the rest of the land had changed too. Only the areas nearest to the house showed a tinge of green, while the desert remained beyond. And there, in the not-so-far distance, the forest they made that first time.
Smudgy darkness in place of leaves and bees, like something gone soft and sickly with rot after too long under the water. Didn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to figure out why it looked the way it did, distance or not.
“It will heal,” Ever said, his hand on Bo’s arm, chest at his back. “In time and with intent.”
“It’s still there.” And that mattered, too. Smudgy and dying, but it hadn’t gone away.
“Yes.” Just that, quiet and warm and very Ever.
“Let’s go inside.” Bo tugged Ever toward the front door, an arm around his waist. The wrap-around porch blocked out the bright sun, and the cabin itself waited, comfortable and inviting. “I like it. It suits you. And me. We have enough time for a quick tour before tearing into the Council?”
“I’m certain they’ll survive.”
