Page 47 of Cathmoir's Sons

“Fuck,” she hisses, dragging the word out. “Where? I can’t crawl into Jane’s tent with the two of you.”

I lift my head and scent. “Jane is asleep. Almost everyone is, except your friend Teddy and she’s well-occupied.”Verywell-occupied. Hmm. I might have to ask her husbands for tips. “We’ll draw the Shades. No one will see us.”

Kellan lifts her head and points a finger at me. “You leave before anyone wakes up. In your cat shapes or whatever. Butno onesees you.”

“We’re Cait. No one will see us.”

Kellan turns, muttering to herself. I catch “fucking idiot” and “absolute moron to agree to this” before she tears the Veil open again with her claws and steps through. I follow her, with Luca’s shoulder butting against my thigh, as we emerge back into the mortal world, the Shades of Faery streaming around us like black smoke.

Kellan ducks into her tent. Soundlessly, Luca and I follow her.

Her tent is low; I have to duck. But it’s wide enough to easily accommodate two spacious air-mattresses which are already mounded with pillows and blankets. There’s a soft rug underfoot, and a low table between the mattresses, spread with containers of food and bottles of wine and water. The dark lump of Jane Serpa snores quietly on one bed.

Kellan twirls her fingers around herself and her coat, sweater, jeans, and boots unwrap themselves and slump to the floor. In a black T-shirt and men’s black boxers that I’m fairly sure are mine, she burrows into the bed.

Luca and I follow her gingerly, trying not to touch her in any way that would piss her off. It’s impossible. The air-mattress isn’t as firm as a normal mattress. With Kellan’s weight in the middle, the mattress collapses us inward onto each other. I get a handful of breast and a mouthful of hair before I slide my way onto her far side and curl carefully there.

She shifts onto her side and puts her head on Luca’s shoulder as he lies on his back. I spoon her but leave a breath of space between our bodies. It’s strained and awkward for several minutes. Then whether because we’re all tired or because of the sagging of the mattress or because Kellan’s anger slowly seeps away, we shift. Kellan arches her back until she touches my chest. I ease closer, fitting the curve of my legs to hers. She slides her arm across Luca’s chest. I drape my arm hesitantly around her waist.

Kellan rolls over suddenly to face me. “You hurt me.”

“Sorry, the mattress is too soft. I wasn’t trying to squeeze you?—”

She blows out a wine-sweet breath. “Youhurtme.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry.”

“Did you care at all? Did you ever think, ‘this is going to rip Kellan’s heart out of her fucking chest when she finds out that I’ve lied to her over and over’?”

“I did care. I do care. I didn’t lie to you over and over. I lied to you about one thing. How much older I am than Luca. It’s two minutes, not years?—”

“You lied to me about not knowing Rhodes.”

“Yes, true, although I avoid Rhodes as much as I can.”

She curls her hand over her mouth. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m furious with you.”

I hook my fingers through hers, draw her hand away from her mouth, and press her fingers to my chest, over my heart. “I know you’re angry. You have every right to be. I lied to you. I did what I thought was right, to protect you, to give you what you need. I’m sorry for hurting you, Kellan, but I’m not sorry for what I did. I won’t ever be sorry for protecting you.”

“I’m also furious you think I need protection.”

“Are you furiousI thinkyou need protection, or are you furious that you need protection?” I ask. When she just glares at me, her eyes glinting icily in the dark, I continue, “I know you’re fiercely independent, Kellan. I know it must sting to be vulnerable. I’m not discounting your feelings and I will apologize forever for hurting you. I’m just asking you to recognize what you’re really angry about.”

“I’m angry about all of it.”

I massage her fingers. “I know.”

“Don’t think The Kiss Book makes up for everything.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“I do love it, though.”

I smile and squeeze her fingers.

“I wrote you one of my memories this morning. I was watching Teddy’s twins play and I wrote you about the time I broke my sister’s Yule present. I was twelve. She was ten. I didit on purpose. I’d been taking art classes after school. Drawing, painting, sculpture. I loved them. Just before Yule, Mom told me I couldn’t go anymore. Now, I realize it was because my parents couldn’t afford the classes. But at the time I was convinced that it was because Chelsea had asked for an instant camera for Yule. Chelsea’s magic hadn’t come in yet, so she could still use electronics safely, but I couldn’t even touch it because I was just learning to control my Element. I was so angry at her. I stared and stared at the camera. The harder I stared, the more I could seeinsidethe camera. The way it worked. The parts that moved when she took a picture. That night when she slept, I used my Element to damage the shutter mechanism, so every picture she took came out black. Mom was furious. She said Chelsea must have broken it and she wouldn’t be getting it fixed because Chels couldn’t take care of her things. Chelsea cried and cried.” Kellan swallows with a click. “I was so mean to her, Law. She was my little sister, and I was so mean to her. I should have loved her better. I don’t ... I don’t want to be mean to you. I don’t want to look back on this in a few years and regret the way I treated you. I don’t want to love you badly.”

---