Page 68 of Ulune's Daughter

Mom gives us warm hugs. “Boys, tell me you’re staying the night. Aine will be heartbroken she’s missed you.”

We haven’t even been back at school for a month and our little sister absolutely loves having the run of Cait House when we’re gone, so I doubt that. But maybe Mom’s missed us.

I glance at my twin. He’s the one sneaking off to fuck our mate every night. I don’t mind staying over. We’ll be in our rooms, which I warded enough that I could sleep years ago. I think Rhodes might be occupied tonight anyway.

“Of course,” Law says, ever dutiful. “We wouldn’t miss breakfast with the Troublesome Tween.”

Mom chuckles. “Don’t let her hear you call her that.”

“She’s in bed already?” Law asks. “We’ve been Walking the Ways, but I didn’t think it was that late.”

“Ah, no.” Mom glances at Dad. They both look sheepish, which is unusual enough to make the hair on the back of my neck rise. “Now, I know I said I’d tell you when this started, but she’s been so excited about it and I knew you’d find a way to ruin it for her?—”

“She’s on a date?” Law’s voice shoots up an octave, which makes me chuckle. Overprotective older brother mode engaged.

“It’s not really a date,” Mom demurs.

“They’re out as a group,” Dad says.

“A group includingboys?” Law growls.

“There are boys in the group,” Mom admits.

She turns in a flurry of her fur-trimmed robe, the mate of Dad’s, moving toward one of the room’s deep couches. From the dimmed lights, the glasses of wine on a low table between the couches, and the books left open beside the wine, I’m guessing they were reading before bed. It was only afternoon when we left Turkey, but time moves differently in Faery. Maybe we were walking the World Wood for longer than we thought.

“Where are they?” Law growls.

Dad puts a hand on Law’s shoulder. “I know how much you love Aine, son, but you have to let her grow up. Dating’s an important part of adolescence.”

Mom rolls out her purring laugh. “That ismyline, Cath. I told you that not one week ago when she arranged the date.”

Dad shrugs, never adverse to stealing what he didn’t invent on his own. That’s a Cait trait, I’ll admit.

“Where are they?” Law repeats.

Mom shakes her head. “Aine has everyone’s number if there’s a problem. She’s with three of her girlfriends. She knows not to go off on her own with the boys. She’ll be fine, Law.”

Law huffs. He’s obfuscating, focusing on our little sister to avoid telling Dad the news about Kellan.

So, like a good brother, I drop him in the shit.

“Law’s here to tell you abouthisdate,” I say.

The glare Law shoots me is more fulminating than the ones I’ve gotten from the revenants bound and warded in Jane Serpa’s classroom. And let me tell you, those are some righteously pissed off blood-suckers.

Mom takes Law’s hands between hers and draws him down to the couch where I think she was sitting and reading. “Tell me all about her. I can’t wait to meet her. When do you think you’ll be able to bring her for a visit? Is All Hallow’s too soon?”

I choke back my chuckle. I’ll be surprised if Kellan knows Law’s name by All Hallow’s.

My parents, on the other hand, have known Kellan’s name as long as we have. After the first time we scented her, my idiot twin raced home and told them all about her. And then got to suffer the disappointment of Dad telling him we couldn’t pursue her until we came of age, that our duty to the Cait came first.Law’sduty to the Cait.

“She’s, uh, very special, Mom,” Law hedges. “But we came to tell you what we saw her do. She called the Shades of Faery to her. Tore them right off us and bent them to her bidding. They made a cloak of raven feathers around her while she was casting. And there’s an albino raven that hangs around her house. I don’t know if it’s her familiar or an aspect of the Crone, but it’s definitely not just a bird.”

Dad sits down on the couch across from Law and Mom. Without looking at me, he pats the couch next to him. I sit down, knowing when I’m summoned. What a cozy family we make. Except that my skin is crawling and my nape is prickling and my leg muscles are jumping from being this close to Dad’s power.

Dad rubs his chin. His beard has gone gray recently and he keeps it trimmed close to his chin and cheeks. The men of our line go gray early, but Dad had us later in life. He was already well over a hundred, when it’s traditional for the Cait to stop celebrating birthing days, when we were born.

“There hasn’t been a Raven Woman born in centuries,” Dad says.

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