“This is Bo, as I’m sure Talia told you,” Everil said, the thrum of anxiety and bristling protectiveness smoothed over some. “Bo, may I introduce Declan.” A beat and Everil squeezed his shoulder. “He’s a sluagh.”
And, okay, Bo was still irritated. But he leaned in, allowing himself a moment to enjoy Everil’s nearness.
The last time Everil’d faced someone like this, there’d been death in the air.Thistime, Death stood apart and cocked his head, birdlike, his ice-blue eyes finally landing on Bo.
“It’s a pleasure, Bo.” Declan smiled, his slightly too sharp teeth a startling white. “I’ve heard a distinct lack of unflattering things about you.”
“Bo’s my favorite person right now,” Talia agreed. Bo scoffed.
“Give it time. You’ve known me for less than an hour, kid. Nice to meet you, too.” Bo gave Declan another quick once-over. “You actually made up of the souls of the undead?”
Everil made a sound not unlike a stifled sigh.
“Very likely,” the sluagh murmured with that same smile. “No bat wings for me, alas. Nor do I go hunting with a pack, crowned in antlers and calling for a feast. Everil, may we speak privately?”
Everil released his grip, his fingers brushing along the back of Bo’s neck as he pulled his hand away. Bo pressed into it, looking away from the amused Declan in favor of Everil, his eyes a touch wide.
Bo didn’t fuckingget him.
“If you’ll excuse us,” Everil said, low. “We’ll only be in the next room, should you need me.”
“Yeah.” Bo managed to say. And, belatedly, the two of them already halfway out the door to another room, “Have fun.”
“He forgot the hot chocolate,” Talia said once the door clicked shut.
“Think he’s got other things on his mind. I’ll go and get some. Maybe grab some stuff I left in my room. Hold down the fort while I’m gone?”
“My price is extra chocolate,” Talia answered promptly, cheerful as anything. She stretched out on her chair, looking for all the world as liquid as a cat. “That’s the cost of a fort.”
That was fine. Extra anything, so long as he could go and get his stuff. Get away for a little while.
He needed to breathe air that didn’t taste like snowmelt in the silent comfort of winter. He needed not to think about any of it. Not quiet, guarded Everil. Not jittery, determined Antonio. And not fucking punk reaper Declan, here to decide whether to help them or screw them over.
Chapter seven
Everil
Everil stepped to oneside, allowing Declan to precede him into the sitting room. Politeness, surely. Not an aching reluctance to part from Bo.
It shouldn’t be so difficult to leave Bo’s side. The desire to cling at the start had been embarrassing but understandable. But the time where such clinging might be forgiven had passed. A little self-control was called for. (And allowing himself to brush his fingers over Bo’s neck as he departed indicated a disgraceful lack.)
Only, Everil had always liked the way humans felt. Textured and warm, a landscape that changed with the passage of years, showed scars like memories. Bo’s closeness presented a temptation that transcended the bond alone. And Everil was failing shamefully at resisting it.
Best to focus on other matters. And, for better or worse, Declan’s presence did require his attention.
Settling on a chair, Everil summoned two cups of steaming tea. A magic he’d not be able to manage were it not for his recent theft from Bo.
“Have you been well?” he asked as he reached for a cup.
Declan took his own seat before answering, studying Everil through eyes that burned like blue fire. It’d been some time since he’d last sat under that intense gaze.
“He gets points for letting you leave the room without a fuss. Doors closed, even.” Declan’s dry tones were comforting in their almost forgotten familiarity. The reminder of how Nimai had come between them, less so. “How novel.”
“Bo, I think, would be appalled at the suggestion it might be otherwise. He has very peculiar sensibilities.”
“Not that peculiar,” Declan answered. He smiled then, that impossibly wide, sluagh smile. Everil had missed it. “I’ve been well, yes. Mother has a cat now. Bloody thing hates me.”
“A feline with taste, from the sound of it. My compliments to your mother.” Looking up from his tea, he offered his own faint smile. “As you’ve encountered Bo, I believe you’re abreast in my own recent news. There was a Hollow here just before you arrived. I had to persuade him to depart.”
