Divine Misdemeanors

She grabbed onto him and held both our hands tightly as she shook and cried. It was only as the weeping began to quiet that she stared up at us, at him, with eyes shining blue and stars with tears. “Forgive me for thinking that all princes and all kings are like Cel.”

“There is nothing to forgive, because the kings and princes are like that at the courts still. Look what the king did to our Merry.”

“But you are not like that, and the other men are not like that.”

“We have all suffered at the hands of those who were supposed to keep us safe,” Sholto said.

Galen stroked her hair as if she were a child. “We’ve all bled for the prince and the queen.”

She bit her lip, still clinging to our hands. Uther patted her shoulder. “You all make me glad that Jack-in-Irons are solitary faerie and beholden to no court.”

Saraid nodded.

And then Uther said, “I’m the only one who can reach you for a hug. Will you take it from someone as ugly as me?”

Saraid turned to look at him, and Galen had to move his hand away so that she could. She looked surprised, but she looked into his eyes and saw what I’d always seen: kindness. She simply nodded.

Uther slid his big arm across her shoulders. It was as careful and gentle a hug as I’d ever seen, and Saraid let herself fold into that hug. She let him hold her, and buried her face against his wide chest.

It was Uther’s turn to look surprised, and then he looked pleased. His kind might be solitary faeries, but Uther liked people, and solitaire wasn’t his favorite game. He sat in the back, crammed into the tight space but he got to hold the shining, beautiful woman. He got to wrap her tears in his strong arm and hold her against a chest that was as deep, with a heart that was as big, as any I’d ever known.

He held Saraid the rest of the way home, and in a way she held him right back, because sometimes and especially for a man, being able to be someone’s big strong shoulder to cry on helps you not need to cry so very much yourself.

On that drive Uther wasn’t alone, and neither was Saraid. Sholto and Galen held me. Cathbodua even put a friendly hand on Rhys’s shoulder. The sidhe had lost the knack of comforting each other with touch. We’d been taught that that was something for the lesser fey, a sign of their weakness and the sidhe’s superiority. But I’d learned months ago that that was just a story to mask the fact that the sidhe no longer trusted each other enough to touch like that. Touch had begun to mean pain instead of comfort, but not here, not for us. We were sidhe and lesser fey, if you could call a nine-foot-tall man lesser, but in that moment we were all just simply fey and it was good.

Chapter Thirty-four

We pulled up in front of what I’d started to think of as home, but it was Maeve Reed’s estate in Holmby Hills. She had assured us through e-mails and phone calls that she wanted us to stay as long as we needed to. I worried that eventually she’d grow tired of us all, but for today, and until she got back from Europe, it was home.

The reporters who had followed us from the crime scene merged with the ones whom the neighbors were letting camp on their property, for a fee of course, and we were all home. Rhys hit the button that opened the gates in the tall stone wall and in we went. It had become automatic to ignore the shouted questions from the reporters who rushed forward. They stayed off the edge of Maeve’s property. I kept waiting for one of them to notice that they never, ever crossed that invisible line, but so far they hadn’t.

We were within our rights, and so was Maeve, to prevent trespassing. We were even allowed to use magic to prevent it as long as said magic wasn’t harmful. We’d simply reinforced Maeve’s own wards, and the reporters stopped every time just like we wanted. It was nice that something was doing just what we wanted.

I’d called Lucy on the ride over, and told her everything Jordan had told us. It helped, but not enough. Julian texted me and told me that his brother was fine and wouldn’t have to be held overnight at the hospital. Marshal the EMT wasn’t the only one who had started treating shocky psychics more seriously. Marshal had just been the first medical professional to admit why. I appreciated that.

Rhys pulled up in front of the big main house because we’d moved into it from the guest house, giving the guest house over to our newer members. I’d asked Maeve’s permission before the move, but again it left me wondering what we’d do when she rightfully wanted her house back. I put the thought away, and concentrated on the more immediate problems like a magical serial killer, and would Barinthus defy me or would he be here for di

Then the big double doors opened and Nicca and Biddy were there waving at us. He had his arm across her shoulders and she had hers around his waist. He was just a shade taller than her six feet of sidhe warrior. His long brown hair was in two knee-length braids on either side of his handsome face, but it was the smile in his brown face that made him truly beautiful. Biddy’s smile echoed his, though she was pale, her black curls cut short around her face. They both had brown eyes, and the baby probably would, too. She’d just started to show a little, though unless you knew what you were looking for under her shorts and tank top you wouldn’t know it was a baby.

Her bare arms and legs were long, and showed muscles moving smooth under her skin as she came around to my side of the car. Nicca got Rhys’s door. He was a little less muscled than she was, though not by much, but the easy happiness that they seemed to feel for each other made me happy every time I saw it. They were the first of us to get officially married, and it seemed to agree with both of them.

Biddy didn’t get the door for Cathbodua. She had seen where I was and got the back door, which actually meant she was letting Galen out first. “Welcome home, everybody,” Biddy said. She glowed not just with the pregnancy, but with love. Whenever I was around them I had hopes that the rest of our sidhe would pair up and it would be the begi

“Good to be home,” Galen said as he scooted out. Nicca got the door on the other side and Sholto scooted out, too. They both put their hands back in for me, and there was that awkward moment when the two men looked across the car at each other. But it was Galen, and most of the time he made things easier, not harder.

He did a little half salute and said, “You’re on the side with the house.”

Sholto smiled at him, because he was a good king, and good leaders appreciate people who make things easier. “Is that the system you’ve worked out? Whoever is closest to the house gets to help her out?”

“If she’s in the backseat,” Galen said, “but if she’s in front, then Biddy or Nicca or whoever gets to the passenger side helps her out.”

Sholto nodded. “Very logical.” He offered me his hand and I took it, letting him help me scoot over the seat. Nicca and Biddy were already at the back to help Uther out. You could fold the seats we were in down, but why make him squirm through when you could just open the back?

Saraid actually took Uther’s hand to get out of the back of the SUV. It pleased him that she took his help. She was tall and muscled and trained in both weapon and magic, which meant she didn’t need the help, but she’d taken his comfort and now she gave it back to him, by letting him help her.

I could hear the high, excited barking of the dogs inside. That, too, was a happy thing. The faerie hounds had vanished with our magic fading, but when the Goddess returned some of the magic she also returned some of our animals. The first to return were the dogs.

Biddy laughed. “Kitto is trying to keep them still, but they’ve all missed their masters and mistress.”