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“Bliss!” Rain exclaimed.
Fen took her hand and kissed both of her palms. It felt like an oddly reverent gesture, and Iris wondered if the twenty-seven years she’d been missing had felt like five minutes to them. “We have so much to show you, so much beauty that’s not to be believed.”
“No Thomas the Rhymer nonsense, okay? I don’t want to be gone for seven years.”
“We’ll do our best to keep track of mortal time,” Rain promised.
Fen knelt before her, dark eyes twinkling like a starry night. “I know you’re struggling, but may we embrace you?”
She couldn’t recall the woman who’d raised her ever asking for a hug or offering one. Tears prickled in her eyes.I’m not unwanted. I’m not a fuckup. My people were just…misplaced. For a time.Iris included everyone who lived at Violet Gables in that assessment, but she was glad to add Rain and Fen to the list of people who cared.
“Absolutely.”
The two fae drew her close, bracketing her between them. Maybe it was her imagination, but Rain truly smelled likefresh droplets of water gliding over the flower petals, while Fen reminded her of freshly turned farmland and the verdant smell of new life breaking the surface of the earth after a long winter. Each embodied springtime in a different way, and Iris came out of the hug feeling dazed and delighted.
“I came from the two of you.Really?”
“Are you happy about that?” Rain asked.
“Yeah. It doesn’t feel quite real, but I’m ecstatic.”
“As are we,” Fen said.
Before she could respond, a knock sounded at the door. Sally called, “Keep talking with your visitors. I’ll get it.”
The older woman darted from the kitchen, through the front room, and into the foyer, where Iris heard her speaking to someone. She couldn’t make out the words, but Sally’s tone shifted from inquiring to annoyed.
Then she came to the archway and said, “Looks like they need a word with you. It’s about the complaint Susan Grumpyguts filed.”
“Grumpyguts?” Rain repeated. “What a curious surname.”
“It’s not her legal name,” Iris said, like that was the salient point here.
She gestured to indicate she’d be right back (hopefully). No way to be sure if Rain and Fen understood, but she shouldn’t keep the inspector waiting. It was a middle-aged man, balding, plaid shirt tucked into a pair of khakis. He was carrying a sheaf of paperwork, and he radiated impatience as he waited for an invitation to enter.
“Come in, what’s this about?” As if Iris didn’t know perfectly well.
“It says here that you’re the homeowner, is that correct?”
“Yes, I own Violet Gables.”
He snorted. “Violet Gables, is it? Hopefully I won’t be here long. By the way, the city may cite you for the unregulated application of hydroponics on the exterior of your house. Here I thought I’d seen everything.”
“It’s not hydroponics,” she said, but he wasn’t listening, moving down his list of questions like he’d be fined if he slowed even for a second.
“Are you Iris Collins?”
“That’s correct.” She was already tired of his attitude, but she couldn’t afford to snap or act rude. Not when she still didn’t know how she was getting out of this situation. “Do you want to sit down?” she added.
“Who is this man?” Fen demanded.
Iris shrugged. “He hasn’t seen fit to introduce himself.”
“That seems rude,” Rain noted. “Or have customs changed this much?”
Sally chimed in then. “They haven’t. This guy is being exceptionally impolite.”
The inspector sighed. “This isn’t a social call, people. But fine, my name is Melvin Terry. I work for the city of St. Claire. All good now, can we continue?”
