Page 31 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

“Nonsense. Fallon has a big bed, and it’s settled. Besides, when she wakes and runs to Griffon’s room, ye’ll be lucky to sleep through the squealin’. I’ll just go gather a few things. He can show ye the way.”

“Squealin’, huh?”

He rolled his eyes. “She only gets excited because it means she’ll get to the beach early. Nothing to do with me.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He slowly led me up the stairs like he was running out of energy, or maybe reluctant to say goodnight, or both. I was in no hurry to let go of him, but at least we’d be under the same roof. He pointed to the door at the end of the hall, then pressed me against the wall and kissed me stupid. If I wasn’t so worn out, we might have stayed there all night, but I finally had to cry uncle.

“See you in the morning,” he said, and kissed me one last time. “I’m in the room downstairs, you know, in case you have nightmares.”

“We’re notstayinghere, right? I mean, we have a lot to talk about and—”

“No. Not staying. I just need to prepare them for the fact that I will be gone for a while, and they’ll be homebound. Archer knows about them now and will come check on them in the meantime. Besides, we needed a place to stay for the night. I just didn’t expect, you know, the mothering.”

“Is that what you call it?”

“What else?”

“Well, I thought your other girlfriend was the five-year-old. Now I’m not so sure.”

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

* * *

I slept like the dead.

Crisp, cool sheets and the smells of farmland convinced my body it was home, and the past two days of chaos melted away like a marshmallow in piping hot chocolate. I remember half-waking in the dark and remembering that I was safe. With morning a long way off, my heavy bedding pulled me back into harmless dreams.

I woke again with light sneaking around the edge of the curtains. A high-pitched scream got my attention, but the laughter that followed brought me back to the present. Fallon was awake.

Ah, but that didn’t mean I had to be, and I let my bedding have its way again.

I jolted awake once more when the mattress sank beside me. “Sorry to wake you, love,” Griffon said, then kissed my cheek next to my mouth, which was just beyond his reach. “Fallon is eager to go to the beach. We are happy to wait for you, or you can stay and sleep.”

“Go ahead. I’m dying for an unhurried shower.”

“We’ll be back before lunch.” He kissed me again, this time reaching my lips. Then he held up a little bronze pinfeather in pristine condition, a drastic difference between it and the last one that had become tattered and frayed from rolling between my fingers a thousand times. “A fresh one for you,” he said, then pressed it into my hand. His gaze raked over the length of me, as if he were tempted to stay, but he shook his head and left.

When I finally dragged myself out of bed, I found a clock that read 7:15. I’d only had six hours of sleep, but it was enough that I could function again. Looking back at the past forty-eight hours, I wondered if I would have followed Jamie Godstone to his flat if my brain had been firing on all cylinders.

I wandered down to the kitchen and ate some things to stop my stomach from turning inside out. Berries, a tiny piece of fruitcake, and a drink of milk. I put my clothes in the washing machine—all but my bra and my boots--and climbed into Griffon’s shower. I used his fantastic-smelling shampoo to erase any traces of my intricate updo and was honestly happy to see my old self staring back from the mirror.

Since I’d learned I was DeNoy and knew Hank was a part of that identity somehow, I felt I needed him next to me, with only the thin handkerchief between us. Even the pocket of the robe seemed too distant. I tucked Hank under my right boob and the feather under the left, next to my heart. Then I dug in Griffon’s drawers, slipped a long gray t-shirt over my head, and wrapped myself in his sizeable blue robe.

About 9:30, I hung my clothes up to dry, found a pillow, and stretched out on the sofa, happy to sleep the rest of the morning away. I was blissfully adrift when someone knocked on the front door. A cheerful, light knock sounded again, and I wondered if Fallon had come to drag me to the beach. The water might be just around the corner for all I knew. So I made sure Griffon’s robe overlapped in front of me, pulled the tie tight, and opened the door.

The dark figure of Colm Mulrooney hovered close to the threshold. His horns caught me off guard yet again, but I hid my reaction. “Mr. Carew’s not here,” I said, and tried to close the door.

“We didn’t come for him,” he sneered. Then to answer my unasked question, he stepped to the side to show me who he meant by “we.”

A mere two porch steps separated me from Orion. Though I was sick with fear, I could have wept with relief that Fallon wasn’t on the premises. I didn’t know if Hank was suddenly smarter, if he was somehow asleep, or if it was my constant praying in his general direction that kept him from hissing. But I was grateful. If he were a dog, I would have promised him a juicy steak bone every damned day forever, as long as he kept quiet.

“Miss Todd.” Orion inclined his head slightly. His curls never moved, and he was unconcerned with the puddle beside him, threatening the hem of his gold robes.

“Inspector O’Ryan.” I said, pretending the last time we’d met was at the police station, and not at the wake. I’d been Lucy Morgan at the wake. “Like I said, my host is gone.”

“Then it’s a pity he’ll miss all the fun.”

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