Page 6 of The Brightest Fell

“Most people are boring,” I said. I took my keys back, following her into the hall.

The lights were on. So was the television, the sound drifting out of the living room. May and I exchanged a glance. Then she smirked, patted me on the shoulder, and said, “It’s your problem,” before heading for the bathroom.

“I’m going to make some tea,” said Jazz, and ducked into the kitchen, leaving me alone with Quentin.

“Cowards,” he said amiably.

“Yup,” I agreed. “But we love them anyway.”

“Why is that?”

“I’ll be honest. I don’t really know.”

He laughed, and walked with me to the living room door, where we peeped inside. One of the recent BBC versions of Much Ado About Nothing was playing on the television. Tybalt has his reservations about much modern technology, but the discovery that he could order DVDs from England and watch Shakespeare performed in London in the comfort of my own home had been a revelation to him. I was pretty sure he’d forgive humanity for almost anything if it meant he could have his Shakespeare.

I love him for a lot of reasons. The way he looks in leather pants is surprisingly far down the list.

Nothing moved apart from the TV. I stepped into the room, walking around the couch and stopping to smile. Besottedly, if the look on Quentin’s face was anything to go by. He could cope. I had just come from my bachelorette party, and if I wanted to take a moment to be soppy, that was my prerogative.

Tybalt was asleep, slumped against the armrest. The reason he hadn’t stretched out was easy to see: Raj was taking up the rest of the couch, head in his uncle’s lap. It was a beautifully domestic moment, and I would have been tempted to take a picture if not for the fact that neither of them was wearing a human disguise. The stripes in Tybalt’s hair were visible, black against the darker brown, as were the sharp points of his ears. Raj’s hair was long enough that his ears were hidden. Nothing, however, could hide the black ticking on his otherwise russet hair, a color pattern that doesn’t naturally occur in anything except for Abyssinian cats.

I took a moment to stand there and appreciate the two of them, my Cait Sidhe boys, both comfortable enough to go to sleep in my house and stay that way through the sound of the door opening. It was no mystery how they’d gotten in: Cait Sidhe have access to the Shadow Roads, one of the hidden routes through Faerie, and the wards were designed to let the two of them through. It wouldn’t make sense to lock my fiancé, or my squire’s best friend, out in the cold.

Finally, I walked to the couch, knelt, and touched Tybalt’s hand, releasing the illusion that made me look human at the same time. The scent of it perfumed the air around me. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” I said. “Don’t make me kiss you in front of the boys. I’d never hear the end of it.”

Tybalt opened his eyes and smiled. My chest seemed to get tighter and lighter at the same time. It wasn’t a strange sensation anymore. I felt that way every time he smiled at me like that, like I was some sort of miracle.

“October,” he said, voice still hazy with sleep. “If you do not wish to kiss me in front of our charges, I’m afraid our wedding will be a dull affair.” He paused, smile fading into a puzzled frown. “What in the world is that thing on your head?”

“Party hat,” I said, reaching up and whisking the offending veil away. “Blame May.”

“A sentence with merit in almost all situations,” he agreed. He sat up, stretching languidly, before shaking Raj brusquely by the shoulder. “Up, kitten. It’s time for napping somewhere that is not atop your King.”

Raj made a grumpy noise, and didn’t move.

“Awaken, Prince of Cats, or suffer the consequences.”

Raj made a grumpier noise, and didn’t move.

“Alas, you did not heed my warnings, and now you must pay,” said Tybalt, before reaching over and hauling me into his lap, a gesture which planted my butt atop Raj’s head.

That was enough to wake Raj. He squawked in startled disapproval and sat up, leaving me to drop the final few inches into Tybalt’s lap, where I fit comfortably. It was a position I had a lot of practice with.

“You sat on me!” Raj protested. His hair was ruffled, sticking up in all directions.

It was all I could do not to laugh as Tybalt slid an arm around my waist, looked serenely at Raj, and said, “No, she did not. I placed her atop you, when you refused to wake and move. This is why you should listen to your betters.”

“I’m a Prince of Cats,” said Raj.

“And I am a King, and she is my consort. You see? There are two people in this room who are better than you. Go and torment Quentin, if you wish to match wits with an equal.”

“I heard that,” said Quentin from the doorway.

“I intended that you should,” said Tybalt, without rancor.

Raj glowered at us both before running a hand through his hair to smooth it and hopping over the back of the couch. A few seconds later, I heard him talking to Quentin in the hall, voice pitched low enough that I couldn’t tell what he was saying. Their footsteps moved down the hall.

“At last,” said Tybalt. “We’re alone.” With that, he leaned in, and kissed me.