Page 67 of Home to the Hollow

By the time we’re middle schoolers, we all know why we’ve been placed in our adoptive homes, and if possible, our lineage, so the town doctor can help the schools manage our emergence. How Jolene made it through her childhood and the first half of adulthood without a single sign, I don’t know.

I suppose Andromeda and her parents were shocked as well. It happens—there are ‘lost ones’ and those who never realize their powers, but it’s infrequent enough that they still assign every unemerged hybrid a Guardian until it’s proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that they will not realize their potential. That Sugarplum’s Guardian is still with her after thirteen years makes me certain she’s dedicated to our girl’s happiness.

Son of a bitch. I know where they are.

I turn off the water, rubbing a towel through my hair as I rush into the bedroom. “Guardian. Seer. Is. A. Guardian.”

Edgar blinks at me, rubbing the back of his neck with his large hand slowly. “Uh, yeah, pup. She is. What’s that got to do with the war tax on whiskey?”

Prez blinks, then I see the realization dawn on his handsome features. He beams at me, leaning in to kiss me softly, and my whole body flushes with pleasure. “It means that she wouldn’t ever let our magpie be in danger, no matter how blasted they got. My darling Wolfie is trying to tell us the Irish lass probably took her to her house to crash.”

“Fuck. Why in the hell didn’t I think of that? I helped get that place built!” Boone growls low, pointing his finger at us. “Clothes. Now, gentleman. We have a lady to rescue from a fiery-haired warrior.”

Yes, sir.

* * *

Presley is a bit of a daredevil.

That probably comes from the whole soaring in the clouds shit, but he insisted we sit on top of the seats in the back of Edgar’s drop top Cobra. The wind in my hair is nice, and it’s not a long drive—we didn’tneedto drive at all—but unlike being on a horse, this is terrifying. Prez squeezes my hand as we pull up the drive and murmurs in my ear, making my cheeks heat, and I swat him.

“You realize that I’m having control issues this morning, and when you say things like that, growly and full of praise, you make the pointies flare,” I scold. “Sugarplum isn’t there yet. Help me put it away.”

Boone snorts from the driver’s seat, waving his hand. “Don’t mind me. I’m the only supe in this car who can deal with his shit. Nothing to look at here.”

“Oh? Have either of us marked her three times without her knowing, or did I imagine pulling the hound off her a few weeks ago?” Prez shoots back, giving him a dirty look. “Seems like I’m the only one who’s in control of my powers, you tool.”

I snicker, enjoying their banter. After my adoptive father died and they committed Aurelia, I didn’t have any family left. My Guardian was reassigned after I emerged, graduated, and was inducted, so until I met Presley, I was on my own. The sense of family the four of us are building is filling a need I didn’t know I had, and I don’t know how to explain it to any of them. Maybe Sugarplum can help me find the words—that is, if my guess that Saoirse brought her here after their night of debauchery is correct.

Glaring at us, Edgar hops out of the car, moving with the grace of his kind. He doesn’t look back, but the raised middle finger tells me our conversation is over. Prez and I jump out, following him into the enormous house. I’ll never tell him, but whatever he and Jamie used to get the elves to bust their asses in this place was a miracle. Before we can catch up, he’s pounding on the front door like a federal marshal, and I groan. That will not make us any friends if the girls are hungover or sleeping.

When the door swings open, he turns to look at us and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so terrified. He puts on a rough, assholish exterior as the Boone family heir, a judge, the son of a senator, and bookie extraordinaire, but at this moment, his facade falls apart. We all know that neither Sugarplum nor a Guardian would leave their residence unprotected with the threats we perceive.

“Take it easy. Maybe they were drunk enough that caution went with the wind,” Presley murmurs as he clamps a hand on his shoulder. “Let Wolfie do a little scan before we come in, guns blazing. He should at least be able to feel if there’s been something sinister in the house, so we don’t walk face first into some kind of trap.”

I give Edgar the most positive smile I can muster before I nod. “Of course, if theyarein there drunk off their asses, you’ll need to let me...cool down before I come in to help scold them. No paddling without me,” I warn, shaking my finger at them with a playful tone I don’t feel.

Closing my eyes, I look deep within, ignoring the chill from my mother’s heritage to find the dark night of my father. The hum zips over my skin as my skin, my body, and even my hair change as power flows through me. Julia told me once that she’d never seen a hybrid change as fully as me, and it had to mean that my real father—whomever he is—is royalty. I don’t know if she said that to make me feel better as a kid or if it’s true.

No one has ever gotten my mother to admit which consort produced me was. She likes to dangle it to bend people to whims, especially me, but I doubt she’ll ever tell anyone. Her heart is as icy as her powers, but something about the way she guards the secret makes me think it’s about keeping the man who fathered me safe. She’s just not above using it as a bargaining chip when it’s useful, either.

Presley smiles at me, reaching up to tuck one of the long strands behind my ear. “It’s not fair you get a billion times hotter when you change. Sure, I’m pretty when I shift. Boone’s scary and sexy and terrifying, but you, my darling, are so gorgeous it hurts to look at you.”

“Are you two done fawning? Because I’d like to see if my drugar has been abducted or injured or…”

Now that I’m changed, it’s a very simple thing to lay a hand on his shoulder and murmur, “You must calm, Edgar. We will find her. But you must be calm.”

His posture wilts, and the fear and anger melt from his form in response to my soft words. “You’re right, pup. I… lost her once because I was a coward. I can’t lose her again; not now, not after…”

“I know.” I smile and face the house, letting the auras and traces of power and emotion soak into me. It always makes me feel as though I’m floating between time and space as the images and sensations pour through me until I can sense the signatures. There’s a lot to sift out because the elves are still finishing some of the interior and their magick lingers the longer they stay at a dwelling.

“What do you feel, love?”

I open my eyes and look at Presley, my expression troubled. “Nothing good. There isn’t danger lurking inside, but something isn’t right. The energy coming from the house feels wrong.”

Edgar growls low, and the heat rolls off him as he spears us with his gaze. “We go in. The doc stays in the back. He doesn’t have offensive gifts, and you can keep him safe if I have to shift. No arguing. Understand?”

Holding up my hand to keep Prez from spouting something witty but ultimately unhelpful, I nod. We all have powers, but his are more suited to fighting than my bird-loving mate. “Understood.”

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