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Little Raven gurgles and immediately reaches for my fingers. She seems constantly delighted that I have so many of them. I play peek-a-boo—a game Hannah taught me—with one set of hands while tickling her with another set.
She makes more giggle-gurgles. Naturally, she drags some of my fingers to her mouth to bite them. I don’t mind. She’s teething, her little fangs just beginning to burst through, but I have hard, calloused fingertips. Her mother always makes sure my hands are quite clean before giving me Raven since she knows her daughter’s curiosity about all my digits.
“She really likes you.”
I look up, only to realize that the new woman is curiously watching me. Her gaze is never straight on but always slightly to the side. She’s stood off to the side during the domestic reunion since Hannah-wife gathered to greet us at our return, only venturing closer now.
“He’s about to become her favorite pin-cushion if her teeth get anywhere near as sharp as her father’s,” Remus butts in from where he’s positioned against the wall. He pushes off and walks to us. “What did you say your name is again, lovely?”
The woman’s eyes narrow, not meeting his gaze either. “I didn’t.”
Remus only grins with what I think is his attempt at being charming. I can’t tell. I find him as obnoxious as ever.
“Then, by all means, beautiful lady. Grace us with your name.” He offers an elaborate bow.
I roll my eyes. Is she falling for that bullshit?
By the completely unimpressed glare she levels Remus’s direction, I’d say not.
“No,” is all she says.
I bend over and try to hide my smile in the tuft of black curls exploding from the top of baby Raven’s head.
“Well, what are we meant to call you? Unknown female?”
She stays stone-faced. “You don’t need to call me anything. I’ll be gone by tomorrow.”
But Remus just smiles and slinks closer. “Are you so sure? It’s not every day you stumble upon a castle full of mythical creatures. And we’re handy to have around. We can do favors for you. Our Creator-Father was known to make wishes beyond mortals’ wildest dreams come true.”
I snort-laugh at that. “Yes, before they met a violent end. Do not trust him.” I nod toward my brother. “His twin is a little more honorable but also tactical, so caution is also needed with him.”
Remus looks offended. “I would not have one so beautiful as this meet any violent end. Abaddon granted Hannah her greatest wish, and look how that has turned out.” He nods at the child in my arms, who rears up, apparently bored with my fingers, and bites my nose instead.
Calmly, I pry her off. She smiles wide, her little raven-black wings fluttering excitedly. My brother is going to have his hands full with this one. “Want to go play with Uncle Remus for a while?” I ask the baby.
Then, before Remus can complain, I’ve plopped her in his arms. She makes excited noises, but when Remus does nothing but hold her still, his arms extended from his body as far as possible, she starts to fuss. His head rotates one hundred and eighty degrees, and Romulus appears instead, drawing the child close and smiling at her, ever the doting uncle.
I smile. It’s a trick of mine. Remus has no patience for children, even ones as adorable as Raven. It’s a reliable way to get Romulus back when Remus is being a pain in the ass.
“Sorry about my brother,” Romulus and I say at the same time to the woman.
She waves us away, eyes wide as she stares at Romulus. Her gaze flits around his face, everywhere but at his eyes. Oh, right. I forget how disconcerting it is when he does the head-swap thing around people who aren’t used to it.
Romulus draws Raven close to his chest and carries her to a box of toys and some seating set up beside the blazing hearth. I gesture for the woman to follow, and she hurries in that direction. I think to be closer to the fire than out of any desire for our company.
She warms herself by the fire, front and back, while Romulus sits on the rug with the baby. She grew faster than humans typically do in the womb and seems to still be advancing quicker than human children in her development. She’s only nine months old but is already big enough to sit up and bat at the blocks Romulus patiently and endlessly sets up for her to knock down, making a delighted noise each time she does.
The strange woman has warmed her frozen limbs enough because she eventually takes off the heavy coat, exposing only her blood-soaked shirt. She pauses, looking down at herself as if startled by the sight.
“I’ll go ask Hannah for clothing,” I say.
“No,” she says quickly, eyes lifting towards me. Then she looks in Romulus’s direction before her eyes return to the stone floor. “Can he go get it?”
