Page 76 of Cathmoir's Sons

We pass through the kitchen on the way through the house, following Rachel’s slightly meandering path. Darwin and Gabe are arguing good-naturedly over a stove covered with furiously steaming pots. Darwin’s creating fairy cake in mid-air, spinning the deep golden goodness between his hands. I’ve never learned to cook with magic. Most mages don’t not just because itdepletes their magic reserve but also due to unexpected side-effects.

Alice in Wonderland-type side-effects.

It doesn’t surprise me that Darwin has, though. If there was a fae competition for “most likely to use magic to wipe his nose,” Darwin would win every year. His magic reserve seems inexhaustible.

Teddy’s magic reserve is the same, but it’s not doing her any good today. Rachel leads us past the kitchen and into one of the many parlors-turned-playrooms. Teddy’s lying stretched out on a chaise lounge, resting against Charlie. Her eyes are closed and the skin around them is pinched. She’s always pale—even after the summers she spent in California; she’s one of those Celtic Britons with dark hair, dark eyes, and skin that only burns—but today she looks slightly green. Charlie’s stroking her forehead with one hand. With the other hand, he rocks a cradle set beside the chaise. The Twin Terrors are playing on the floor. They’re building something industriously, absorbed and miraculously quiet. Then I see who is stretched on the floor next to them: their favorite uncle with horns and a tail. They’re playing with building blocks that glitter in my Sight.

I narrow my eyes at the construction. With a glare at Jou, I flick my claws and scatter the blocks.

“Build something else,” I say to him.

“Whaa—?” The demon raises his hands innocently.

“You know what. That’s the sigil for the Arlech, Hell’s Compass. You’re not drawing part of Teddy’s house into the Styx.”

Jou chuckles.

“Mother’s sake,” Teddy groans without opening her eyes. “Yesterday it was a lesser Malebranch. Jou, I’m gonna rat you out to Tsara if you don’t stop teaching them how to summon demons.”

“Shakin’ in my hooves over here,” Jou grumbles. “They’ve mastered manes. Pretty sure they’ve got their own personal demon now. Might as well level up.”

There’s a collective groan around the room. When a deeper, masculine groan comes from near a window overlooking the Summerlands, I notice Evan sitting quietly in a wing chair, a book with a portly man smoking a cigar on the cover spread over his crossed knees, round glasses perched on his nose. I nod at him, a gesture he returns without rancor.

Law carries me over to the chaise, stepping around the demon-summoning trio on the floor. He sits, tucking my legs up behind him before he plants his ass. Since it’s awkward to have a conversation straddling him with my back to the room, I untangle myself. He lets me move just enough to twist around before he arranges me in his lap and crosses his arms over my chest, resting one hand on my belly. The heat of his palm seeps through the corset dress I’m wearing. Teddy and crew have seen me in it many times because it’s so soft and comfy; it’s my go-to dress for family dinner. But Law hasn’t seen it before. The neckline’s a deep V. My boobs are pushed up by the unboned corset that laces across my ribs. He’s been so good, I think he needs a reward. I lean back against him so he gets a clear view down the front of my dress.

He growls.

“Your breasts are fucking perfection,” he whispers in my ear.

They’re also fucking sore. I’ll be happy when the week’s over and it takes my period with it because this month’s is going to be a doozy. I seriously consider his offer to rub them better. Is there any chance we can do that without having sex?

Realistically, no.

I sigh.

“Teddy,” I say softly, looking over my prone friend. “Is this more than ‘I was up all night nursing the new baby’?”

Teddy grunts. Charlie flushes so red he looks like a tomato.

“I got overzealous,” Charlie mutters.

“Someone has super-sperm,” Teddy says.

Charlie’s color darkens toward crimson.

“Wait, you gave birth five minutes ago,” I point out.

“An’ I haven’t even had my monthly yet,” Teddy agrees. “But someone managed to knock me up anyway. On practically the first try.”

“Well, second,” Charlie mutters.

I snigger. I can’t help it.

“Not funny,” Teddy grouses. “I just got through pukin’ for nine months. One whiff of the garlic Gabe was fryin’ and I barely made it to the sink to hurl. I swear to the Mother, if I have morning sickness all through this pregnancy, I will castrate you, Charlie Miller. Bloody men.”

I’m not the only one who sniggers this time.

“Name, Charlie?” I ask, hoping to catch him off guard and win the pool that happens every time Teddy gets pregnant.

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