by Molly White
“Don’t pretend the idea of Dani being pregnant doesn’t completely terrify you,” Bael shot back.
“Terrifies me with happiness,” Zed said, before adding, “OK, it scares me a little bit.”
“Sonja will just organize the hormones into submission. It will be fine,” Will said, making Bael throw his head back and laugh.
“You’re a medical doctor?” Brendan asked.
Will retorted, “You know Jillian’s going to write a pregnancy book for hybrid shifter pregnancies, right?”
Bael grinned at the very thought. “That’s my Jillian.”
“You know, when I have a pint with the lads back home, there’s less pregnancy talk,” Brendan said.
“Sorry, but you did bring it up,” Will told him.
“So, I noticed that almost everything in town is owned by a Boone, and yet, you are a civil servant? How does that happen?” asked Brendan.
Bael shrugged. “Yeah, my family and I don’t really see eye to eye on things like civic responsibility and commerce. They definitely come down in favor of the commerce side.”
“Bael’s the weirdo,” Zed said. “But ninety-five percent less of an asshole than most of his cousins, so it works out.”
“So you all grew up here? And you didn’t want to…move away?” Brendan asked. “To somewhere not located in the sun’s armpit?”
“You think this is bad, you should’ve been here in August,” Zed scoffed. “Try surviving the summer heat wearing a full bearskin.”
“I did for a long while,” Will said. “I went to medical school in New Orleans, practiced in Seattle for a while, but it’s hard for us to resist the call from la faille.”
“Everyone keeps talking about this pull, but I’ve been out to the rift site and I don’t feel it.”
Bael shrugged. “Well, maybe that’s because you’re, you know…”
“Dead,” Zed finished for him.
“Tactful as always, bud,” Will snorted.
Zed swept those massive hands towards Brendan. “Well, he is!”
“My family’s Scottish,” said Will. “But my Gran always had respect for death-singers…or at least, she said that you shouldn’t mess with death-singers.”
“Either instinct is a good one,” Brendan said.
“She never mentioned male banshees,” Will mused.
“Well, yes, that did come as a bit of a shock for the family. I am the first male banshee to be born into the O’Connors far as anyone remembers or knows. My uncle Ennis blames all the hormones they put in the meat.”
“Makes about as much sense as anything else,” Zed agreed.
“So you’re all from here,” Brendan said again.
“Yes, we’ve covered that,” Bael said, nodding patiently.
“But from what I can tell, all your lady-friends are League employees,” Brendan said.
“I tried dating local girls. I got a TV thrown in the shower with me,” Zed said.
“We’re lucky that the lights of our lives were willing to stay here on a permanent basis,” Will agreed. “Sonja likes a challenge.”
“I don’t think I could force Jillian out of here with dynamite,” Bael said.
“Dani likes the pie. And me,” Zed insisted. “But mostly, the pie.”
“So, how long have you and Cordelia been working together?” Bael asked. “Jillian doesn’t tell me a lot of background information about League employees. Security and all that.”
“We only met a few days ago.”
“Really?” Will tilted his head, his expression confused. “Because you seemed pretty close in the clinic the other day. I don’t know that many relative strangers who would hold a coworker’s hand while she’s unconscious.”
Zed eyed Brendan suspiciously. “In a creepy way?”
“No, not in a bloody creepy way,” Brendan shot back.
“I thought she doesn’t like to be touched,” Zed insisted, his brow furrowed in stubborn lines.
“She doesn’t like to be touched by most people, but because I’m…”
“Dead,” Zed supplied again, but in a much more serious tone than before.
“She doesn’t feel anything from me,” Brendan said.
“Well, that doesn’t exactly speak to your appeal,” Will said, frowning.
“That’s what I said!” Brendan exclaimed. “See? It’s an insult.”
“It’s definitely a sign you have no game,” Zed told him.
“I’m not trying to have game with her!” Brendan said.
“Then what are you trying to do with her?” Bael asked, his lips quirking.
“I don’t know. Cordelia’s a little different, in a good way. Sensitive. Honest. She’s been through a lot.”
Zed sipped his beer. “So she’s not going to fall for your old Lucky Charms routine.”
“Why did I invite you into my home?” Brendan asked.
“Do you want her to get your Lucky Charms?” Bael asked with an expression that should not have been so serious.
“My sister was wrong. I do not need friends,” Brendan sighed.
“OK, OK, you two. Stop with your pecking. Just think how bad you would have felt if some smartass teased you when you were all moon-eyed over Jillian or Dani,” Will said.
“I was a tower of dignity and reserve when I wooed my Dani,” Zed retorted.
Bael stared at him. “What about when you ran through the administration building without opening a single door? You literally ran through it.”
“That doesn’t count! Dani was in danger! And I happen to remember you going full dragon when Jillian was threatened. Don’t think I didn’t notice how that serial killer ended up getting ‘mysteriously’ eaten by an alligator.” Zed turned on Will. “And you! When Sonja got kidnapped, you swam into certain death as a damn mermaid to get her back.”
“How often have your girlfriends been in life-threatening situations?” Brendan asked. “What kind of town is this?”
“There have been a lot of complications with the rift in the last year or so and the ladies tend to chase danger,” Will said. Brendan didn’t need psychic powers to sense that Will was omitting a lot.
Zed muttered, “It’s hot as hell, and yet horrifying at the same time.”
“And it was wasn’t a coincidence that asshole Malfater was eaten by an alligator,” Bael added testily. “Because he was running around the bayou in a boat, dripping blood into the water. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“This is not how I hoped this conversation would go,” Will said, while Zed and Bael continued to bicker.
“And yet, I get the feeling it’s how most of your conversations go,” Brendan replied.
Will shrugged and took a long pull from his beer. “You’re not wrong. You haven’t really said one way or another whether you want to have game with Cordelia.”
“I haven’t done much wooing lately…or ever,” Brendan confessed. “But I do like her; more than like her. And if I was ever going to be able to have a relationship with someone, I would like it to be with someone like her. Wait, no, that’s wrong. I don’t want to be with someone like her, I want to be with her. Why is this so bleeding difficult?”
“Because feelings are hard?” Zed suggested. Brendan grumbled in agreement.
“Look,” said Bael. “I’ve spent a lot of time in the company of a woman who’s a ‘little different,’ but in a good way. If you want Cordelia to—”
“If you say the words ‘Lucky Charms,’ I swear to God I will end you,” Brendan growled.
Bael raised his hands. “I wasn’t gonna. I’m just saying that Cordelia isn’t like other women, so you’re not going to be able to approach her like other women. Pay attention to those little things that are unique to her.”
“The problem isn’t paying attention,” Brendan muttered. “All I do is pay attention. You know, this is the worst ‘beer with the lads’ I’ve ever had. Pregnancy talk and feelings. You should all be ashamed.”
“I regret noth
ing,” Zed told him.
“You’re only here because your mam told you that you had to come,” Brendan said.
Zed snorted into his bottle. “You’ve met my maman. Like you would have said no.”
“You’re right. Your mam’s a damned angel,” Brendan said.
Zed blanched, as if his beer had suddenly gone sour. “That is not what I meant.”
Brendan pulled the bottle away from his mouth before he could swallow another drop. “Wait, did you say Will was a mermaid?”
Brendan woke up the next morning, hoping the other fellas’ heads were bloody exploding. Bloodily. And his phone was ringing. If it was Bael or Zed or Will, he had several choice words for them, and all of them had four letters.
He slapped at his nightstand until he managed to grasp his mobile. “I hope your brain is leaking out of your ears.”
“Well, that’s a fine way to greet your flesh and blood,” his sister’s voice scoffed in his ear. And it was so very loud.
“Colleen?” he whimpered into the phone.
“I thought you’d traveled to the states to work. Why in the hell are you hungover, you eejit?” Colleen asked.
“Because American beer is the devil’s piss,” he groaned. “I’ve been drinking since I was fourteen and I’ve never felt this bad.”
“That’s just sad, brother,” Colleen said, even as she giggled.
Brendan rolled onto his back, praying the world would stop spinning. “I know. I’m deeply ashamed.”
“Tell me that you were at least drinking at the pub instead of by yourself like the village fool.”
“I was at home, but I did have company,” Brendan said.
“Female company?” she gasped. “Did you finally meet someone who could stand you?”
“Rude,” he grumbled. “You’re a rude, awful girl and I don’t know why I take your calls.”
“I’m serious. Have you met someone there, Brendan?” Colleen asked.
“I may have met someone. A very nice young psychic lady. And I don’t know where, if anywhere, it’s going. She’s…complicated. Delightful, but complicated.”
“While you’re as simple as tea with no milk,” she snorted. “So if you weren’t drinking with her, who were you drinking with?”
He yawned. “Some of the locals. The mayor, the sheriff, the town doctor.”
“Look at you, hob-knobbing with the elite!” she trilled, making his ears ring. “It almost makes me not paralyzed entirely by guilt that you’re only in that godforsaken country because of me.”
He breathed deep through his nose. “Colleen, we’ve been round and round about this. I’m here because I want to be. I want to help you get your start, just like everybody else in the family. It’s not your fault that you came into your voice when our family’s life became a country-western song.”
“What? I’ve known you since birth and I’ve never heard you once mention country-western music,” Colleen scoffed.
He cleared his throat. “Oh, just a joke from Cordelia.”
“Cordelia…so that’s the girl’s name?”
He sighed, without really meaning to. “Aye.”
“Oh, you are smitten with her!” Colleen exclaimed.
“She’s a good friend. For right now,” Brendan insisted.
“You sighed when I said her name. You didn’t even do that for Saoirse Doyle, and you spent hours imagining how you’d talk to her. I should know, I heard the rehearsals,” Colleen shot back.
“Is there a reason you called other than to mock and harass me?” Brendan asked.
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “I sang yesterday. It was a bad one.”
He sat up, cursing the pounding in his head. “What happened?”
“I was at the market,” she sighed. “I didn’t mean to pop in when it was crowded, but I was out of milk and as I was walking out, I brushed against this young woman. I saw her walking out into the street while she was on her mobile and get hit by a lorry. I let out a song loud enough to shatter all the dairy cases in the store and passed out. By the time I woke up, the paramedics were covering her.”
Brendan clucked his tongue. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“I think what bothers me is knowing that even if I was able to warn her, I shouldn’t have,” Colleen said.
“It’s the natural order of things, Colleen,” he insisted. “We can only provide the warning, not intervene directly. If people don’t hear the song, that’s out of our hands.”
“The natural order doesn’t feel very natural.”
“I know. I’m sorry, love,” he said. “It’s something we all struggle with.”
“I think I need to settle somewhere a bit more remote,” she mused. “Like the North Pole.”
“I hear the cost of living is very dear there,” Brendan said.
“Yes, but the population is low,” Colleen countered.
“I’ll see what I can do to get you a condo on the North Pole.”
She laughed. “You’re the best brother in the world, I don’t care what anyone says.”
“Thank you,” he said, yawning again. “I’m going to sink back into unconsciousness.”
“That’s fine. I’m going to tell all the uncles that you were felled by American beer,”
“Because it’s toxic and unnatural!”
She cackled. “That’s not how I’m going to tell it to the uncles.”
7
Cordelia
The one thing that sucked about cocooning yourself into your nice cozy house was emerging into the bright Louisiana morning for the first time. It was like being stabbed in the eyeball with the sun.
Still, Cordelia had stayed cooped up long enough. But she was not ready to go back to the rift and work with the artifact. The charming (and very much taken) Dr. Carmody had made that very clear. Jillian had made it clear in her daily emails. But she’d buried herself in the blankets on her surprisingly comfortable bed long enough.
She would be lying to herself if she said her malaise over the last couple of days was just exhaustion from her mental tangle with the artifact. She’d actually been feeling pretty good. That delicious, electric-floaty (was that a word? She decided it was a word) feeling after she’d kissed Brendan seemed like a mocking memory now. She felt like she was frozen in the moment when she’d looked out the window into her mother’s hateful eyes. She’d told herself at first that it was just a trick of light, that her mother couldn’t possibly be here. Of all the places in the world, Bernadette Canton would not deign to set foot in Mystic Bayou, Louisiana. She barely tolerated Florida, and only remained in Candella because she was clinging to the family’s tattered prestige.
Then again, Zed said the rift drew supernatural creatures. Her mother had always been a witch, though she had no magic powers.
But if she hadn’t really seen Bernadette outside her trailer, what had she seen? A ghost? Some fae creature who assumed the form of her worst fear? Had the rift scrambled something in her brain?
For days, she’d kept the blinds drawn and wrapped herself in those blankets, unable to sleep at night, worried her mother was going to spring out from the shadows. She wanted to walk across that tiny gap and go to Brendan so badly, but then he would have realized that she was just an enormous mess of a human being. She wanted to cling to the illusion that she was almost normal, or at least let him believe it for a little while longer.
So, instead, she ate Clarissa’s excellent food. She looked up the carnivals her mother had worked before and traced their routes, trying to assure herself that her mother couldn’t have accidentally stumbled into town. And when she ran out of food, she told herself it would be pathetic to order pizza for every meal. Also, she was about to run out of clean clothes, and she wasn’t sure where the nearest laundry facilities were. It was time to emerge from her cocoon—not as a butterfly, but as a pallid psychic consultant with possible hallucinations.
It was shameful how many deep breaths she’d had to take
before she could open the door. She stepped out into the morning and—
Yep, stabbed right in the eyeball by the sun.
She slipped on her sunglasses, surprised to find it was not cool, exactly, but her hair didn’t feel like it was glued to her neck under the weight of the air. She could almost imagine needing long sleeves. Someday. When her eyes finally adjusted, she realized Brendan was stretched back on his porch steps, his long legs crossed at the ankles and a mug of coffee in hand.
“Morning,” she said, her tone cheerful.
“Morning,” he called back. He gave her an obvious once over and grinned. “You are looking…well-rested.”
“Yeah, sorry I didn’t, you know, contact you over the last few days,” she chirped. “I just needed some time to myself.”
“Oh, I didn’t mind,” he assured her, rising to his feet. “But surely, you have to be ready to go back to work now, yes? No time like the present. Early bird, worm, and all that.”
“Sorry, the doctor hasn’t cleared me yet. And after that, I have to get Jillian’s approval, and I think she’ll be harder to convince than Will. I’ve been given very specific—and frankly, harshly worded—instructions not to venture out of the town limits without approval. My pie privileges could be revoked,” Cordelia said.
An ugly frown flickered across Brendan’s face and for a moment, she was overwhelmed by the desire to step back into her trailer. “You don’t think you’ve had enough of a break by now?”
“It’s not like we’re being paid by the hour,” she replied, her hand wrapping around the doorknob.
“Some of us would like to get out of this pit of a town sooner than later,” Brendan shot back.
What was with this shift in attitude from Brendan? He’d been so unconcerned about timelines before, assuring her that he didn’t want her to work unless she was fit for it. Had he really gotten so sick of Mystic Bayou in a few days that he’d lost all concern for her well-being?
Or was he more frustrated by her than their location? Was this because she hadn’t let things “progress further” the other night? Because she hadn’t even considered it. He knew what a risk touch was for her. Surely, he had to realize that…yeah, she couldn’t call it ‘intimate relations’ even in her own head—but it just wasn’t something she was going to rush into. And if Brendan didn’t realize that, then she’d given him too much credit and she’d been wasting her time.