EJ said, “They seem to like the new look.”
“Cats,” I said, as if that explained everything. Which it did.
“We need to talk.”
“Yes.”
“I’m making more coffee. You want tea?”
“Irish Breakfast, extra creamer, sweet. The tiara looks adorable, by the way.”
EJ flashed his boyhood grin, dislodged George, and made himself at home in my kitchen. As he worked, he said, “Ojos. Protocol Fuck Off.”
“Protocol Fuck Off initiated.”
I spluttered with laughter until EJ said, “Even the queen can’t get inside for the next thirty minutes.”
I sobered.
“The military has secrets. So does the queen. So do I. I don’t use them often enough to be detected.” He brought over my tea and an espresso for himself. Retook his chair, George now on the floor at his feet, snoring.
He whistled a note, opening asilenceworking over us. Lifted a tablet out of the couch cushions and handed it to me. “A private communiqué from the queen to Walter and Shiloh.” Enunciating carefully, he changed his words. “Walter, and thequeen’s assassin.”
I glanced at the tablet, laid it in my lap, and sipped tea, watching my brother. “The tea is perfect, thank you.” He nodded and I gestured for him to continue, sipping tea, ignoring the cats now scent-marking my hands. I said, “You and I are tied somehow. Still. And we never talked about it.”
“Not us. Our magic. From the time when we were kids and you saved us by braiding our power together and getting us away.”
“The yellow strand twined with my blue-white thread,” I said.
“I have no idea of the color. It’s the tuning note G. Angel magics.”
I looked down at my mug, blinking at the tears that, for some ungodly reason, filled my eyes. “I don’t think about that time much, when my angel left me alone. It hurts. Hayyelleft. He took all the magic.”
“Not really. He touched the spark between us, not like a curse, but a blessing that resonates to tuning G. It lets us use our magic together. Apparently it also lets you use raw magic. And no. I didn’t know what it did, or how to use it, until tonight.”
“Blessed…” Hayyel had blessed me. Us.
I drank more tea, breathing, letting my unexpected grief settle, finding a place for it within me. Oddly, it rested next to the thread of blue-white magic, and what might be my battle magic. I wondered if I could draw up either or both at will now, instead of only after it was too late. I set my mug aside and read the info on the tablet. Reread it. I placed the tablet aside.
EJ had refilled my tea mug. He was on his third espresso. Fourth?
“You’re going to have jitters,” I said.
“Never.”
I laughed and drank tea, enjoying the quiet camaraderie. “Walter is going to sacrifice himself for us,” I said.
“No. My interpretation is that Walter’s going to trade his position of independence, here with us, and take on the mantle of Master of the City, in exchange for Mama and Dad and the Everhart Clan trying to cure Nyoka of demon possession and removing her brand. There are no guarantees. Mama and Dad say it might take decades to reverse engineer the workings. And yes, Walter knows he won’t get Nyoka back for a while.”
“That sorta breaks my heart.”
“Look at you, wanting everyone to be in love. Think the long game. While Nyoka is in a comfy, padded, null cell, Walter will be dating the cop.” At my blank look he said, “You didn’t see the way they were looking at each other at the Sacred Heart of Mary Mission Church? All goo-goo eyed and lovestruck?”
“Walter? Has the hots for Rocas?”
EJ grinned. “What can I say. Magic was in the air.”
I threw a fluffy pillow at him. My hand didn’t hurt. “That is so lame.”
