Page 162 of Home to the Hollow

“Prez, are you going to get dressed soon?”

I turn to smile at my adorable man, sighing. “As much as I’d enjoy staying home with you, we have to be present to make sure this trial is fair.”

“Teddy gave everyone instructions on what we need to present at a meeting like this. I’m not usually asked to attend Society functions of this caliber, nor are Seer and the other Guardians.” Lucy’s expression flickers for a moment, and I arch a brow. “I rarely go out without my glamours around here, so I’m worried it’ll be distracting.”

“My love,thatis exactly what we’re allsupposedto be. Edgar is having our entire group, plus a few other allies, be as intimidating as we can be in order to keep the snooty rich fucks from making this farce about our girl. Every vote we sway because of our ‘peacocking’ will help him keep the focus on punishing Amy.”

His eyes widen and he nods as I head into the closet to tug on an outfit that will surely assist me in throwing off the elite’s daughters—and maybe a few of the men. When I step out, Lucy comes over and wraps around me, kissing me deeply before he lets go. “That good, eh?”

“Oh, yes. Sugarplum wouldloveyour bad boy look.”

Giving his ass a pat, I whisper in his ear, “Get ready while I go roundup the rest of the crew, baby. I’m looking forward to their faces when you come down.” I wink at him, loving the flush that creeps over his face as I walk out into the hall and down the staircase. When I get to the bottom, I see Boone standing at the picture window, drinking bourbon and looking out into the yard quietly.

Can’t have him brooding all night—we need everyone’s best to keep this from going sideways.

“Boone, are you ready to go or are you going to stand there brood all night? If it’s the latter, let me know what lighting you’d prefer. I think we can post it onOnlyFansand make some dough.”

He snorts, tossing back his drink. “Hamilton, if I were to let you, we could build you a new aviary without touching the first month’s fees. Nice leather, by the way.”

Adjusting the collar of the black leather jacket, I do a little turn, showing off my tight jeans, white tank and combos. I can’t run around fully revealed—ever—because my kind are rare and absolutely necessary toProject Chimera. Hunters around the world sift through information all hours of the day and night to locate supes as uncommon as caladrii, and we don’t risk being seen fully shifted, even in enclaves if possible.

“I dirty up good and you know it. Admire my ass. It looks bangin’ in these jeans,” I preen purposefully, hoping to lighten the mood a smidge.

Boone just glares at me until Saoirse comes up from the basement, her demeanor unusually quiet despite the loudness of her outfit. “What about you? Did you think you were going to a party east o’ the sun and west o’ the moon?”

“Aye, doggy,” she says, giving him a matching look of irritation. She shakes her mass of bright red waves, braids, tinkling trinkets, ribbons, and bells as she huffs. “I thought I’d find out if yer pet could give me a tour. I hear the Faerie is comparable to both of my people’s lands.”

He doesn’t respond, only moves to pour himself another bourbon and take a sip. We both know Seer’s full of it—the Faerie is like nowhere else in the known Universe and neither of ancestors has lands that compare—but it’s unnecessary to provoke her.

Wolfie’s father’s kingdom is a question mark without a solid answer, so there might be a comparison between it and the Guardian’s mother’s lands… maybe. Edgar studies the cerulean and aqua clothes she’s wearing under the shiny armor of her father’s people. She’s added the full complement of weapons from her mother’s side as well, so she looks fierce as hell.

We need her riled up—all of us need to be—because the assholes on the Council in this town are far too comfortable sucking up to another rather than following the tenets of the Society.

It will test the delicate balance between loyalty to one another and the odd little family we are building versus our commitment to the Council and the Society tonight. Elites from our town love to support one another, and Jolene’s return has them all up in arms. We need to be calm and strategic about how we intercede on her behalf. I watch as Seer’s harem comes out of the basement to stand behind her, wondering if they will stand by or join our cause.

I’ve known Julia and Tharin aren’t hybrids from the moment I met them. Their bloodlines are pure—gorgon and wyvern—and both supe types are very insular. It’s almost as unheard of as my people procreating outside of their species. They both have armor on befitting their stature in their communities, but Zasha is dressed similarly to Seer. His clothes lean towards a more regal version of the muted blues and purples, so he must be a hybrid of a water shifter… with ties to the royal family.

Royals, outside of my darling boy, are a pain in the ass and I’m not looking forward to dealing with the attitude.

“Edgar, are we ready to go?”

Speaking of Lucy, I turn to greet him after I watch Boone’s jaw drop. It was a gamble to think he’d never seen a Fae like our boy in full regalia, but it paid off. This just might be the nudge we need to make things work the way I know they will. While Judge Boone looks sharp in his bespoke Armani and silk, Lucy is a vision of otherworldly beauty when he’s not covering up his heritage. Everyone stops talking as he steps into the kitchen with a shy grin.

“We are, pup,” Boone murmurs. “You clean up good.”

Lucy flushes under the iridescent skin, letting the waterfall of silver hair cover his face. I walk over and straighten the shoulders of his sharkskin suit, flattening everything so he looks handsome, but not a bit like his mother would expect if she shows up. His ears are poking through his hair, and I smile fondly at him.

A low rumble escapes Boone and I arch a brow, but Lucy simply murmurs, “I miss her, too, T.”

The surprised look on the judge’s face almost makes me laugh, but I figure he’s having enough trouble regulating all the emotions in the air. So I take pity on him and crook my finger at Wolfie. “C’mere, Lucy. You can ride in my car and the rest of these clowns can find their own way to the sanctuary. You look hot as hell, and I don’t get to see the sparkly bits very often.”

Before Edgar can respond, Tharin cuts in, “Oi, mutt!”

“Now boys,” Zasha interjects as the two of them eye each warily. “No need to get into a scrap. We have to present a united front at the trial. Otherwise, we won’t be able to win any of the wildcards they announced this morning.”

His words stop Boone in his tracks. “Since when do wildcards show up for a small town trial over a fight in the newspaper?”

“Since the small town bitches posted their idiocy to theirblogsfor the paper before the fight and now it’s not about an internal struggle in town. It’s a breach of protocol. Wildcards from surrounding areas will be at the meeting to help keep the vote from being swayed by personal relationships,” Julia says as she glares back at the fiery hound.

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