Page 75 of Revealing Fate

Kal straightened from his crouch near the porch railing. Interesting that Beulah had come. He’d expected Saul.

“I’m curious, Beulah,” Kal called into the dark. “Did you volunteer to come and do the dirty work, or were you just unlucky enough to draw the shortest stick?”

Beulah paused, watching Kal with an expression reserved for dangerous predators. Smart woman. “There’s no dirty work, Kalevar. I came to speak with you on my own.”

“And the rest of the Conclave?”

“Losing their collective minds over this mess you’ve made. I expect Saul hasn’t yet come for you because he’s still trying to sort them.”

“Bit late for a casual visit.”

Beulah tsked. “A good time for avoiding curious eyes, you mean. Don’t be coy, Kal. I knew you’d be up.”

Kal couldn’t begrudge the woman’s tenacity. He’d always admired that about her. “What do you want, Beulah?”

She stepped onto the stone path that led to his porch steps, stopping when she reached him. No fear shone in her shadowed features, only grim resignation and a wrinkle of curiosity. “I have known you for some time now, Kalevar,” she said. “You’re not a man prone to emotional outbursts or rash decisions. What you did was both. I saw you in that arena. You didn’t just kill the grimalkin for that girl. You broke it. I want to know why.”

Kal could leave her on the step. He doubted she’d be foolish enough to force entry. Not with her youngest son trailing her like a sad puppy. Kal suspected Beulah had brought the boy along solely to convince Kal that she posed no threat by her visit. She wouldn’t have invited him if she intended to do something hazardous.

He should leave both of them on the step. Then again, the woman was stubborn enough to park herself on his doorstep until one of the house’s occupants emerged. Better that the encounter took place on his terms.

“Come in then,” Kal said, fixing the Porter matriarch with a warning look. “But Beulah, I wouldn’t advise abusing my hospitality. I’d hate for Ponzi to become a widower and a grieving father all in one night.”

Kal pushed through the front door. The subject of his most recent torment sat at his kitchen table, stiff-backed and tense, peering out the window.

The flirtatious little siren from earlier was gone.

What do you want? He’d asked her.

I want you to say my name.

Residual anger punched him. Kal didn’t even want to think her name, it irked him so.

She stood immediately upon his entering, watching intently as Beulah and Penn stepped into the foyer after him. The shirt he’d lent her still hung loosely on her frame, and Kal was relieved to find her legs were no longer bare. The trousers he’d provided covered the previous expanse of creamy skin.

So, she managed to fit them after all. Temptress, indeed.

Green-gold eyes noticed him studying her attire and glared.

“So, this is the woman responsible for all our recent troubles,” Beulah mused, approaching the table to appraise the subject of her attention. “Blessed stars, Kal. She doesn’t look like an Asterosian spy. Nor an assassin.”

“No, she doesn’t,” he agreed. She also didn’t look like a proficient fraud, yet here they were.

That glare intensified. “I am standing right here. If you cared to ask, I would assure you I am neither.”

Beulah’s wide eyes flicked to Kal, who shrugged, entirely unsurprised by the young woman’s sharp tongue.

“She’s no assassin,” he said. “And if she’s a spy, she’s a pitiful one.”

The woman he didn’t want to name crossed her arms over her chest, features twisting with contempt. Kal made a gargantuan effort to avoid examining how the movement stretched her tunic, outlining the rounded shape of her breasts.

“What is your name, child?” Beulah asked.

Those lovely eyes found his again, uncertainty cutting through her irritation.

Beulah picked up on the wordless exchange and tilted her head. “We all know it isn’t Railah Harless.”

She bristled slightly, hesitating. Then, “You may call me Kitty.”