Page 139 of Cathmoir's Sons

Caileán nods. “I have a thing this evening. I can’t get out of it. I’d rather dive in the morning anyway when we have the light. Diving in the dark in the Med is a big no, even if some of us can see in the dark.”

Arch rubs his chin, considering. “Okay, we can use today to prep and make sure our security is as solid as possible. Danny, what do you need?”

“Clear the beach and move all my equipment back,” the Tech Mage answers. “I’ve kept the magar net up and running. It’s solid. I don’t really need all my equipment on the beach, but I’d feel better if I had it in case something goes wrong during the dive. Law’s already volunteered his Cait to clear the beach and help me set up.”

I nod at the Tech Mage.

“I could use the time to meditate,” the Seer says quietly. Caileán and several others nod at her.

“I offer our restaurant in Scilla for team meals,” I say.

Although there are many willing cooks among those assembled, having them take over the villa’s kitchen seems like a recipe for disaster. The restaurant I bought in Scilla is fully staffed with my Cait and the old human’s nephew who wanted to stay on. Since he was the sous chef and knows all the old human’s recipes, I was more than happy to retain him.

“They’re discreet,” I continue. “They will work to our schedule. If anyone wants something off-menu, we can call ahead.”

“And no dishes to wash,” Danny says, lifting his coffee mug in my direction.

“We have bwg for that,” Caileán points out.

Danny looks into his coffee mug wonderingly. “Is that how everything’s so clean? I just figured you had your harem well-trained.”

Caileán snorts while Luca, Rhodes, and I laugh.

The beachat Torre Faro is dotted with foam and flotsam from the storm. After I get the wards back up, my Cait clear the area with a combination of magic and their strong backs.

With impeccable timing, as we move the last piece of wreckage and raise the Tech Mage’s tent, the demon appears, the glow from his eyes skittering over humps of wet sand. He’s not making any attempt to hide his nature: horns, burning eyes, shifting sigils, and sinuous tail on display. Whether he’s glamored so humans can’t see him or trusts my wards or just doesn’t give a shit is up for debate.

“Afternoon,” he drawls as he draws near.

“Good afternoon,” I respond, wiping sand from my palms.

“You up for a field trip?” he asks.

I lift an eyebrow at him. “Where are we going?”

“Treasure wants an alliance with Mordeh. Feels like somethin’ I should do before I give a Water Elemental a shot at me.”

I see his point. “Should I bring Mags and Dex?”

I tip my chin at my cousins who are busy playing Stalk the Tech Mage while he double-checks his equipment in the shelter of the tent.

If they double-team Danny, Caileán may never get her Tech Mage back. They’re quite possessive as a duo. Good time to drag them off to Hell. They’ll forgive me, I hope.

“Sure,” Jou agrees. “Show of strength never hurts when dealing with demons.”

I center myself, then reach in my mind for Luca. I brush my mind against his, feel his tranquility. He’s with Caileán and his human. All’s well. Once I’m sure the rest of my family is safe, I rejoin the demon who has moved to the shoreline, looking out over the scudding waves, his arms crossed over his bare chest.

“Everything okay?” I ask him.

He taps black claws against his impressive biceps. “I hate askin’ for favors.”

He needs a favor from me?

“Just ask,” I prod.

“I want your help fendin’ off my kids’ suitors for a couple of decades. Two of ‘em have already been claimed. One by the lord of fucking ghouls. They can barely walk and their future’s already laid out like a damn highway. I want to give them time to grow up the way Tsara did. The way you have. I see the way you and your brother have been raised: one foot in Faery and one foot in the mortal world. It shouldn’t work, but it has. You’re ... fuck, I hate this word. You two arewell-adjusted. Healthy. Strong. I want that for my kids. I want them to have mortal childhoods and go to that college you’re at. I want them to havetime to find themselves, find the things they’re passionate about. I want them to have adolescent crushes and awkward first dates and stress about exams. I want them to experience the mortal world the way you and the Spare have.”

My chest swells. I haven’t been spoken to like this, man to man, father to father, before. I savor the feeling for a moment before I respond. “All of our children should have that gift. Whatever you want me to do to that end, I’ll do it. Foster them. Fake betrothal to one of the Cait. Whatever.”

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