“You knew the hatchlings were coming today?” Ciaran asked, running his towel over his hair.
“Ah, I know a great many things,” he said. Then his eyes met Ciaran’s, serious and knowing. “Like I know the wee hatchlings would be safer if they were raised in the river by the old hut. In case unwanted visitors come this way in a day or so. Hear what I’m saying, boy?”
Dread poured through Ciaran’s bones, cold and awful. “What do you know? Who’s coming?”
“A little birdie mighta said a thing or two,” he said. “Might be nothing at all, but some folk are best not knowing secrets. It’ll be safer if these little ones aren’t here.”
“Understood,” Ciaran said.
“Who is it?” Sawyer asked. “Is it Hadeom? Is he the little birdie?”
Cern laughed, a rough papery sound, and he pointed his crooked finger at Sawyer. “Something like that,” he said, smirking. Then he turned and began to walk away, holding up his hand as he did. “Get the human out of the wind.”
He ambled slowly into the darkness and disappeared.
“Did he just...?” Sawyer asked.
Ciaran looked out over the water. Over the very still, eerily too-calm water. “What wind?”
And just like that, an icy gust hit them as if someone had opened a door. What the hell? Sawyer pulled the blanket up over his head. “Jesus. How does he do that?”
Ciaran put his arm around him. “Come on. Best do what he says.”
“How are you not cold?” Sawyer asked as they hurried to the police station. When they got inside, he kept the blanket around him despite the heating. His teeth were chattering. “It’s-s-s f-f-freezing.”
“Oh, baby,” Ciaran said, pulling him close and rubbing his back.
Sawyer shoved him off. “You’re cold! Go get dry and changed. Then you can cuddle me.”
Ciaran took him into the small unit where he hit the switch on the kettle. “I’m making you a cup of tea, and then it’s to bed with you.”
“What did he mean by unwanted visitors?” Sawyer asked. “Who? A friend of Lusca, perhaps? Are we having another war? Because fuck, I thought you said nothing happened here.”
Ciaran dropped his wet board shorts and kicked them toward the washing machine, then pulled on some trackpants and a T-shirt. He pulled out two mugs, set them on the counter, and reached for the teabags. “No, I don’t think so. Might just be a fishing boat, but now there’re hatchlings, and?—”
“Tell me about them,” Sawyer said, and Ciaran could feel his sadness.
He threw the teabag into the mug and then went to him, taking his face in hands. “Hey,” he murmured. “You’ll see them. I had Tobin take my memory so he could show the others—the den is kinda out of bounds for anyone but me and Kellan?—”
“Understandable.”
“Totally.” Still holding his face, Ciaran lifted Sawyer’s chin and kissed him softly. “So he can show you exactly what I saw. Maybe even what Kellan saw. He was in there longer than I was.” Ciaran sighed happily. “Oh, Sawyer, they are amazing. So tiny. So cute.”
Sawyer smiled at him, a little sad but full of love. Ciaran could feel it. “You’d make such a good dad.”
Ciaran barked out a laugh. “Uh, no. I’ll settle for uncle.Wewill be the best uncles ever.”
“If I was a cephamorph?—”
“Sawyer,” Ciaran said softly. “That’s like saying if I was human. We can’t change what we are. And anyway, I love that you’re human. It makes you you. Your humanity is?—”
“A giant pain in the arse.”
Ciaran knew there’d be no arguing with him tonight. Instead, he kissed him softly and said, “Let’s have some tea and go to bed. Tomorrow you can ask Tobin to show you.”
He sighed and did a cute little pout. “Fine.”
“Are you feeling warmer now?”
