Page 63 of Dragon Fires Everywhere
He stops meowing, then takes a few steps toward the stairs. He even looks back at me like he’s making sure I follow. I shake my head, because cats are cats even when they’re magic, and I follow him downstairs. I hear the murmuring of voices and the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen. When I step into the cozy room, everyone is already here, sittingaround a table and eating another elaborate breakfast Emerson no doubt put together.
But Azrael is where my gaze goes first. He’s leaning casually against the counter, mainlining food and coffee, as usual. Whenhis gaze meets mine, his smile turns dragony, and his eyes are hot and gold.
“Good morning,” he greets me. “I have called a meeting.”
I wait to be horrified by that, or at least a little frustrated. I never said I was ready to discussanyof this the moment I woke up. Or at all. Just because I can maybe accept that this is happening between us, that doesn’tmean there shouldn’t be good, healthy boundaries where he doesn’t just swoop ahead anddecidethings.
But at the same time, this was going to fly out of my mouth the moment I looked at Emerson. I know how to keep myself hiddenfrom people. I know how to hide from the truths that make me feel small.
What I don’t know how to do is hide from the fact that Emerson is my half sister. That Rebekah is too. That we areactuallyfamily. There’s no smallness there, just sadness about other people’s choices.
I smile back at Azrael, because he was right to call it.
“Were the archives everything you hoped they would be?” Emerson’s smile is wide, her eyes eager. “Can we make a very longPowerPoint presentation on all the Joywood’s misdeeds?”
“Not yet,” I say carefully, piling my plate high with food. My stomach has started to jitter with nerves, but I don’t letthose nerves win. Iwon’t.“The archives are finicky and won’t give me everything I want right away, apparently. It’ll take some work, but I’ll get there.”
Emerson smiles at me. “Of course you will.”
And I am caught by the overwhelmingrealityof this. She is mysister.And I know it doesn’t matter, because she always hasbeen, whether we knew we shared blood or not. My ultimate champion and supporter andfriend.
“There was something the archives did... Well, some things have changed,” I say.
I look around for Azrael, and he’s standing behind me. Like support.
If support was also guzzling down every flavor of muffin.
I look back at my coven. My friends. Myfamily, and I take the empty seat next to Emerson. Then, as we sip our coffee and eat our breakfast, as we have so often this lastyear, I start at the beginning.
I tell the story of two keyholes, the golden light. The way the room shifted and changed.
I do not leave any details out. I talk about the book, the changing cover. When I get to the kissing part, I lay it all outthere. The menfolk are various shades of horrified. For different reasons, I’m sure. Jacob likes his privacy. Frost is nofan of the dragon, his ancient enemy. Zander looks disappointed, then slides a twenty-dollar bill across the table to Ellowyn.
“Iknewit,” she says, waving the money in the air.
“You had a bet?” There is a mix of surprise and censure in Emerson’s tone.
“And you didn’t let me join in?” Rebekah shakes her head. “Because I’d definitely be a winner too.”
I frown at both Ellowyn and Rebekah. It’s not the bet that surprises me, exactly. It’s more that I’m surprised they saw whatI kept talking myself out of seeing.
“I mean, he’s clearly got the hots for you,” Ellowyn says, and smiles because if she says it, then it’s true. “And you’reflustered by him.” Also true. “It was only a matter of time.”
Again, true.
“I do not know if I like this characterization,” Azrael grumbles.
“Welcome to the Riverwood coven and the Ellowyn truthbomb,” Zander says, not exactly in a friendly way. But not like the knives are out, either. “You learn to deal with it.”
Emerson puts her hand over mine, her gaze concerned. “But none of what you told us is a change, is it? Except your level ofaccess to witchdom’s history.”
“True.” I take a deep breath. Then I tell them about the book interruption. The way it opened itself up to the Wilde familytree. “My name was on it.”
Emerson’s grip on my hand tightens, but she’s grinning. “Oh! Are we long-lost cousins? One of those you go back far enoughand we’re tenth cousins twice removed type things?”
I shake my head. “A little... closer than that.”
“How much closer?” Rebekah asks darkly, like she knows where this is going. I can’t imagine she does, not just yet, but she’sdefinitely picking up more than Emerson is.
