“You’re about to give an oath to Talia. I’m sure she’ll insist on a promise of seeing more of humanity than I’ve offered her. Florida would be as appropriate a destination as any.” He hesitated, his thumb twitching as he repressed the urge to stroke the man’s neck again. “Whatever you may think of me, I intend you no ill, Bo. You need only tell me what you wish or require, and I’ll see to it.”
“You’re doing fine,” Bo said, pressing into Everil’s shoulder. Warm and so very close. “I like how it feels when you do that. I’m not worried you’ve got some dastardly fucked up plans for me. And you’re secretly hilarious.” Gentle pressure at Everil’s wrist, and Everil’s fingers answering it with a curl against Bo’s neck, all unbidden. “You’re already ‘seeing to it.’ I wish to go to Florida after the oaths and your errand. I want to see my ridiculous family.”
Nimai would kill this sweet, reckless, rough-edged human.
Whether Everil parted from Bo now or not, Nimai would kill him. Even if he severed things to ensure he held not the slightest scrap of Bo’s soul, Nimai would surely sense this moment. The breath Everil took at Bo’s murmured reassurances. The way he let the rigid line of his spine relax, so he could curl slightly closer.
“Then let’s see it done.” He took his hand from Bo’s neck then, to allow the man to step away. “Declan would speak with you, first. And Bo? You’ll not come to injury by Nimai’s hand. You have my word on it.”
Even if that meant Everil had to bring Bo to the river and end things himself.
Chapter eight
Bo
Right. So. Declan wantedto talk to Bo alone, no reason given. Just the dude waiting on the back porch. Smirking, if only just, when he saw them. And Bo wasn’tclingingto Everil. He was just, you know, holding on.
Everil left them with a gentle click of the door. No rusty sound of a fucking lock. No comforting, weighted warmth of his hand at Bo’s neck, either.
Declan stood at the railing like some marble statue gone too deep into the punk scene, stopped just short of safety pins through lips and nose. This close, his lipstick looked like a part of his skin. So did the eggplant tinted fingernails, matte rather than the shine of earlier.
Bo crossed his arms and pressed his back to the rough brick of the house. As if it’d provide any kind of shield from the sluagh. Standing in silence with him, alone, that wasn’t like doing it with Everil. Not even (entirely) because of the damn bond. Declan was just fucking weird.
“Everil says you want to talk,” Bo said, his words flat. “So talk.”
Declan raised a single eyebrow, a corner of his purple-black lips curling up on one side. “Everil is correct.”
Bo waited. Declan smiled and said fucking nothing.
“Well?”
“You insist on staying bonded to my friend,” Declan said, all low, rumbling mildness. “A kelpie with troubles outside of your ken, who may one day hold you under the cold water and think it mercy born of affection and circumstances. I would know why, when he offers you a safe way out.”
Bo set his jaw, unable to help the lick of angry heat and defensive snarling. Fuck this guy. “How the fuck is that any of your business?”
“Iam what will give you time to flee tonight, wee Bo. Putting my name and neck at risk to recognize your bond and bearing witness. Playing my part to keep Nimai away for as long as I can.” Declan’s soft, lilting rasp carried ice. “I do not like Nimai.”
“Join the fucking club,” Bo retorted.
“I’d not have Everil bond to another like him.”
Bo’s head jerked up, meeting the level stare with a hard look of his own. “Fuckyou. Go share the bag of spiked dicks I reserved for Nimai, you weird fucking asshole.”
Declan blinked once. And whatever Bo expected him to do, being fae and strange, it wasn’t throwing his head back to laugh, loud and long.
“Youarea fun one,” Declan said, voice rich with amusement. “Will you answer me?”
“I don’t want to break the bond.” Bo all but hissed, tucking his shoulders harder against the wall. “The kid doesn’t want the other guy as her guardian. Everil doesn’t fucking like him either. And, I get it; Everil’s not a huge fan of mine. But at least I don’t make him feel likethat.”
“The wain? Talia?”
“Look, fuck you, I don’t care what Everil says about her not being a child. She can’t be more than eighteen max. She’s akid.”
Bo was a lot of fucking things. Public figure (and disgrace), brother, asshole, lost, all of that, yeah. But he wouldn’t leave a kid with someone who made her eyes go hard.
Declan’s smile gentled as Bo spoke. Then faded completely in favor of a slight muscle twitch on that carved jaw. The fuck was it with fae and jawlines? Did it come with the job, like freckles?
“Everil is correct that Talia is no ‘kid,’ ” Declan said slowly, those blue eyes narrowing. Bo glared back. “Nor are you entirely inaccurate. Gates are magic. They are not fae, nor do they have our lifespan. The most accurate way, I believe, is to say Talia is ‘new.’ ”
