We filed into the familiar living room, where Mom was already waiting on the couch. She looked up from her knitting and did a double take.
“Sylvie? What—oh my.” Her eyes went wide as she took in Kenai, then Taimyr, then Aleksi. “Oh my.”
“Hi, Mom.”
She set down her knitting carefully. “So. This is what you’ve been doing instead of answering my texts.”
“It’s complicated?—”
Mom looked Kenai up and down shamelessly. “I remember you. From the Christmas market. Guess youwouldchase down a man after all, huh, Sylvie?” She winked at me.
“Mom!”
“I’m afraid it was the other way around, Mrs. Hartwell,” Kenai countered, his ears slightly pink. “Once I saw your daughter, I would’ve run to the ends of the earth just for her to glance my way.”
I felt my face burning. “Kenai!”
“Oh, I like him.” Mom beamed. “Who’s who? I want to keep track.”
“The white-haired one with the heart eyes is Kenai,” Grandma Rose noted, settling into her armchair with the air of someone preparing for excellent entertainment. “The dark one with the smirk is?”
“Taimyr, ma’am.” He gave a little wave.
“And the big, handsome one trying to disappear into my wallpaper?” Grandma asked, with way too much interest in her gaze.
“Aleksi.” He was bright red behind his beard.
“And I assume the three of you are going to explain why a fae parading as a friendly old grandma has taken up residence in our town?”
The room went very quiet.
“You knew?” I asked.
“Of course I knew. You forget, Sylvie, I grew up in Ireland. We used to put milk and bread out for our fae folk. I hadn’t seen one since then, but I knew her the moment I saw her. That woman’s been far too interested in our family for years—always asking about you. Your career, your cases, whether you were seeing anyone.” She sniffed. “And you wondered why I never liked her.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because you young people never believe what’s right in front of your faces. Besides, I’m eighty-two and retired, dear. Whatever magical nonsense she was planning wasn’t my problem.” Grandma Rose looked at me over her reading glasses. “Until it became your problem.”
Mom was looking between us, confused. “Wait, Mrs. Patterson is what now?”
“A fae. Member of the fair folk. Please try to keep up, dear.” My grandma sighed. “And she did something to you.” She eyed the men up and down in a much less friendly way. “Something that caught this one’s attention.”
My mates shifted behind me uncomfortably. “Mrs. Hartwell—” Kenai started.
“That’sMs.Hartwell, Esquire, to you, young man. And while my Sylvie is a grown woman who can make her own choices, you are inmyhouse, and if I find any of you?—”
“Grandma, it’s not like that.” I put myself between her and the men, as if I needed to protect these three enormous reindeer shifters from an octogenarian. I probably did.
“Then whatisit like, sweetheart?”
“Sylvie, if I may.” Kenai set his hand on my shoulder, and I nodded. Snowflakes began to swirl in the air, and I knew he was removing the glamour on himself and the others. My mother let out a loud gasp, but Grandma just crossed her arms.
“Am I supposed to be impressed?”
“Tough crowd,” Taimyr said with a laugh, his long, silky hair still fluttering in the magical snowstorm.
“The toughest,” I agreed, watching my grandmother’s expression remain completely unmoved by the display of actual magic happening in her living room. “Grandma argued before the Supreme Court twice. A little sparkly snow isn’t going to intimidate her.”
