“Just so long as I’m not also required to wear a hoodie.”
Talia wrinkled her adorable button nose, “Ew. No. Matching family photos? Not happening.”
“Talia.”
Bo and Declan exchanged a glance. Declan simply shrugged.
“Yeah, okay.” Talia heaved a sigh only a teenager could pull off. “You know,Bobrings me chocolate.”
“I’m the fun dad,” Bo agreed.
Disappointingly, Everil didn’t roll his eyes.
Talia rose to her feet and pushed her hood back from her hair. Her glamour dropped with it, pale brown eyes turning to glowing gold. Talia, with her big hoodie and small hands, damn near radiated power, from the gold surrounding her to the faint ringing of bells carried behind her words.
“Three and three and three,” she said, her gaze going from Everil to Bo, before she touched her own chest. “From myself, you get me. One of nine. Free transit across the veil unless it’s for something dumb. My promise to not use my strength in violence. My allegiance first to your blood and then to the fae as a whole. From Everil, I ask what his family has always offered. The care of myself for as long as I live, freedom to use my gifts as I will, and the guardianship of my next self, when this life ends.”
Bo’d thought he felt magic before. But Talia? Fuck. Bells and gold, golden bells. She rang with power.Realpower. She was fucking real.
And a kid, no matter what Everil said, young and protective and fucking stubborn, making the best out of a situation she had stakes in. Reminded him of Robin, honestly. He’d no sooner hand her to Nimai without trying his damnedest than he would his brother.
“From Bo, I ask for regular trips to the human world with him as a guide,” Talia intoned, echoing and lovely. Bo swallowed the knot in his throat.Gentle waves of dust and cobwebs, pensive rivers and their shorn banks lined with shining bells.“A guest spot on his ReelSelf channel, and,” she paused, chewing her lip, “you’re not allowed to kill anyone of Everil’s.”
What?
“Talia, enough,” said Everil, sharp tone cutting through Bo’s amusement and fluffy feelings. Bo glanced at him, frowning, only to see Everil glaring daggers at Declan. “You know that’s not an appropriate ask.”
“He’snot allowed.“ Talia snapped back. “Not allowed or he’s an oathbreaker.”
“Talia decides what terms are appropriate,” Declan murmured in that too deep voice of his. His stony expression weathered Everil’s glare, unflinching. “She’s not subject to Protocol or your sense of propriety, Everil. Not in this, not here. Would you prefer a stupid hat to knowing Bo may not murder me in my sleep?”
Bo edged his way closer to Everil while Declan spoke. Not touching. But close enough to reach out and brush his fingertips against ice tipped riverbanks and frosted grass if he wanted to.
Everil stood rigid, hands locked behind his back.
“I’m more than okay not killing people you consider yours,” Bo said, quietly. Made fucking sense, that ask, considering the shit he’d heard about Nimai. “We’d both look terrible in stupid hats. And if Declan laughs at my true name, we’ll all be glad she added it.”
Everil didn’t smile. If anything, he froze further, more statue than man and a far cry from the warmth of the porch. Bo felt his shame and anxiety through their bond, an unmistakable urge torun, flee, to wallow in his defeat.
Resignation and guilt and apprehension and the only thing that kept him from pulling off an impression of an Everil carving was an underlying murmur of… something.
Something that said he didn’t dislike Bo. Something warm, mostly buried and covered in shadows.
“You set the terms,” Everil said, quiet now.Resignation. Yielding. Upset.“But the oath is to you. For you. I … suggest that you serve your own interests in this.”
“I’m not changing it.” Talia glowed with power. The room was thick with it, tasting of metal instead of water, age, or undergrowth. A tang of lightning about to strike in an open field, bells in Talia’s words ringing and ringing and ringing. “You said you’d stay with me. You both have to swear.”
Bo swallowed copper and stepped closer to Everil. His attention remained on Talia, sure, but Everil was a strange kind of familiarity in the wake of everything else.
“I apologize,” Everil murmured to Bo. He raised his voice to address Talia, and the room. “My blood is yours, Talia. As it has been since the stars were first named. I, Caroves Fell Abhainn, will abide by your terms. I swear it on my name.”
His true name fell like smooth stones falling onto moss, a whisper in the forest. Bo didn’t have time to question, not with Talia waiting, golden eyed and her terms on the table.
“My blood’s yours, Talia, and a couple hoodies, too.” Bo bit back a sigh when he spoke next. He’d said he wouldn’t. Declan had been adamant he not. “I, Oberon Cedardusk Gardner, will abide by your terms. I swear it on my name.”
To the side, Declan smirked.Asshole.
“I, Teorainn Ceathrú, accept you, Caroves Fell Abhainn, and you, Oberon Cedardusk Gardner, as my guardians.” Talia spoke with all the arrogant benevolence of a queen, before erupting into giggles. “Oberon? Do I curtsy? Kiss a donkey?”
