“Yes sir,” said Ned. “And so you see, we’re not going to be able to put Mr. Kenzie or Mr. Brodigan down there. I’m afraid they’re going to have to share the guest room.”
Wesley opened his mouth, then closed it.
“You see the other problem of course, my lord,” Ned said. “With Mr. Kenzie and Mr. Brodigan in the guest room, and no basement room, Mr. de Leon is going to have to sleep in your room.”
“Oh,” Wesley said, and blinked again.
“We’ve gone over it already, the whole staff, and I’m afraid there’s no other solution,” Ned said primly. “You’ll all just have to share.”
A young voice piped up. “You look nice when you smile, sir. You should be happy more.”
Wesley looked over to see Miss Elsie beaming at him while holding a fluffy orange-and-white cat. Sebastian appeared behind her, another orange-and-white cat in his arms. It had its tiny paws on his shoulder and was rubbing its face into Sebastian’s cheek. No amount of torture would have gotten Wesley to call the sightcute, but Sebastian had big sappy eyes for both animals, and even Wesley would admit it was nice to see him so happy.
“What a smart and kind thought,” Sebastian said to Elsie, which caused her to go beet red. She set her cat on the table, stammered something back at him, and raced away down the hall.
“I think she still fancies you,” Ned said to Sebastian.
“Can’t fault her taste,” Wesley muttered. Louder, he said, “What is this, a zoo? Cat, get off that table immediately.”
“Her name isn’tCat, it’s Flan.” Sebastian held up the cat in his arms. “This one is Crumpet.”
“I’m not concerned with their names, I’m concerned with theirpresence.” Wesley pointed at Flan. “You’re supposed to stay in the basement. Apparently even have your own room down there,” he said, keeping a straight face.
Sebastian grinned. He let Crumpet leap down to the floor, and Ned shooed them toward the stairs.
“I should change for dinner,” Wesley said.
“If you want,” Sebastian said. “We will all understand and wait for you. But I promise no one will care how you’re dressed. We’re your friends; you can join us exactly as you are.”
For fuck’s sake. Wesleywassmiling. “I’m famished,” he admitted. “Let’s just eat.”
* * *
Wesley let Sebastian go into the dining room first, following close behind. Sebastian was almost instantly enveloped in hugs from the woman with witch-sight, Gwen Taylor, and her husband, Ellis.
But a moment later, Gwen was turning to Wesley.“Oh good,” she said immediately, holding out a hand. “Your aura is completely intact.”
Wesley felt a tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying leave him. “It is?”
She was touching the air around him, almost like a doctor examining a patient. “Whatever happened with that wretched pomander relic in October, you’re completely healed.” She tilted her head. “Although…”
“Although?” Wesley sputtered. “What do you mean, although?”
She shook her head. “Just a funny coincidence.” She touched the air, directly over his heart. “There’s one spot, right here, where I can’t see anything. Not a tear, you understand, just a place that my magic can’t see.”
Wesley put a hand over his chest. “But what does that mean?” he said, a bit unsteadily. He tried to scoff. “Does it mean I have no heart? You’d hardly be the first to claim that.”
Gwen made a thoughtful face. “You could decide that was the reason, if you liked. But there is another possible explanation.” She tilted her head. “You see, my magic has never been able to see Sebastian’s magic. His mix of Isabel’s magic and his own enervation that gives the lion its colors blocks my witch-sight too.”
She looked up, and she was smiling. “So perhaps you have no heart. Or perhaps there are still traces of Sebastian’s magic blocking mine, because your heart is where it took shelter until it was safe to return to Sebastian.”
Christ. Wesley could not possibly let himself think about that—he would have feelings and they would never stop. “I had a letter from Mateo de Leon,” he said quickly. “He’d had flashes of visions of Sebastian’s magic. He seemed to think it needed to stay away fora reason. And of course it helped us stop the Dukes of Valemount and saved my life. But how did Sebastian’s magic know to stay away?”
“I can only speculate, you understand,” Gwen said. “But Sebastian used his magic to bind his brother’s magic. It might be that, through their connection, a touch of Mateo’s foresight lingered in Sebastian’s magic.”
“Can that happen?” Wesley asked.
Gwen shrugged. “Magic, you know. It’s such a hard concept to explain, like friendship. Or love.”
