Page 20 of Cathmoir’s Sons (Bad Boys of Bevington #5)

Chapter 20

Painting in the Dark

KELLAN

I t’s the hormones that make me cry. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

It’s not how sweet and attentive Rhodes, Luca, and Law are all day. It’s not that they’re exactly the right amount of physically affectionate without crossing any line.

It’s certainly not that they take me to Albany and, after sight-seeing in a way that I’ve never made time for even though Albany’s only an hour away from Bevington, we arrive at a “magical paint experience.”

Sitting in a dark room at an easel, with a palette of softly-glowing paints and a black canvas, with the boys taking turns sitting behind me and “helping” me paint, I can’t stop the tears from slipping down my cheeks. They’re painless tears. Not the hard, bitter tears I’ve been crying for weeks or the sloppy, wrenching tears I cried for Carrie. They’re hormone tears: quiet but unstoppable.

Definitely hormone tears.

Rhodes wipes them away with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Luca blots them with his fingertips before licking his fingers clean. Law dips a finger in the luminescent paint and traces the tear tracks down my face, then wipes off paint and saline with—no joke—a monogrammed handkerchief.

At the end of the hour experience, I’ve finally stopped crying. I feel hollow and light. The painting I’ve produced might not be a masterpiece, but I love it. It’s the Patroon Island Bridge and Hudson River, framed by fiery, autumnal trees. Maybe it’s a little abstract because my painting skills are rusty. Maybe I love it more because of the memories I associate with that location—lying in a tent with Law, holding hands and talking all night— than because it accurately depicts my memory. Whatever the reason, this painting is getting pride of place somewhere.

Luca carries the still-drying painting as though he’s carrying a trophy. Law slides his arm over my shoulders and spins an elaborate and totally fictional account of our night by the river, including serenades by merpeople and wrangling a kelpie. Rhodes holds my free hand and looks at me, his dimples appearing and disappearing as whatever he’s thinking brings out smile after smile.

“Come back to Cait House with us,” he says finally, squeezing my hand.

I wait for my brain to revolt. To throw up all my fears of censure by my peers. The loss of my career and academic reputation.

Nothing comes.

I’m not fearless. I’m still afraid of all those things. I still resent that they’ve put me in a position where I have these fears. But the scales have tipped. Maybe it’s the knowledge that I have options. Maybe it’s the deep certainty that these men have my back no matter what decisions I make about my future.

Maybe it’s the realization that I don’t have to do it all on my own, that we’re building a Path we can walk together.

Maybe it’s all of those things, and that’s what makes me say, “Yes.”

Law squeezes my shoulders. Luca glances at me with shining eyes.

With them surrounding me, our magic winding tighter and tighter with every glance, every touch, I barely have to flick my claws to open the Fae Ways and step through to Cait House.

Cath, Allie, and Aine are in the library. Allie and Aine admire my masterpiece effusively. Law growls at his father until Cath pronounces it fit for the Great Hall. The boys claim it for their bedroom and Cath hides his relief that it won’t glow-up his reception hall by pouring drinks for everyone. While I sip sweet wine, I help Aine with her homework and argue good-naturedly with Luca who challenges each of my explanations.

I win by sticking my tongue out at him. Aine joins me.

There’s no awkward end to the night. When Cath and Allie excuse themselves, I kiss each of the boys good night and walk the Fae Ways back to Jane’s townhouse. A massive, black panther pads beside me, blinking to a handsome calico-and-cream tom cat when we cross the Veil.

Jane’s ensconced in front of the fire with Dean Quinn and several other Bevington professors. I join them for a nightcap. My purring kitty curls in my lap while we talk about our Winter Study courses. Jane’s red-eyed but relaxed. She smiles more often than she laughs at the jokes and anecdotes we trade, but she does smile.

When I rise to go to bed, she catches my hand. “I’m going to Harbin tomorrow.”

“Harbin?” I scratch around in my memory for what’s in Harbin. Or even where Harbin is.

“There’s an ice sculpture festival in Harbin, China. Derek and Melinda are going.” She tips her chin at two professors sitting on the couch across from her. “They invited me along. I’ll be back in time for my class on Thursday. I’ve left Carrie’s puzzle box in your room. If you need anything at all, call me. I’ll come straight home.”

That she didn’t invite me along doesn’t even sting in the face of the spark in her eyes.

I cup her cheek. “Jane, have a wonderful time.”

She smiles. “I’ll bring you a souvenir. If I can find one that doesn’t melt.”

Grinning, I say goodnight again and carry my purring armful to my room.

The winter moonlight streaming through the window captures my attention. After I clean up and change into a nightgown, I stand at the window, kissing Lawson’s soft head and looking out at the bright night.

“Today’s been a really good day,” I whisper to him. “Thank you for everything.”

His purring rattles my teeth.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said last night. About choosing the easy hunt. That’s never been me, Law. I’ve never shied away from hard choices or hard work.” I press kisses between his ears. “Since coming back to Bevington, I’ve been running scared. No more. I’m going after Ulune’s Daughter. And I’m going after the Oak King. I don’t know what that will mean for teaching here or tenure. But everything you said about me belonging in the field was true. That is where I belong. I don’t know how it will work. What it will look like. But that’s what I want. As long as you three are beside me. Will you-will you help me get that, Law?”

Before I have a moment to miss his warmth, the fur in my arms disappears. Law’s hard arms close around me and he pulls me to his chest.

“I will help you get everything you desire, Kellan,” he promises, pressing his lips to my forehead. “I will be beside you every step. Your Path is my Path, wherever it leads.”

I wrap my arms around his naked chest and hold him tightly.

That image, of Law and me standing together in the moonlight, looking out the window, wrapped in each other’s arms, comes back to me much less pleasantly the next day.

Rowan smiles, wide and vicious, over the three pictures he’s thrown onto my desk.

“You’re delightfully predictable, Kellan,” he says.

So is he. Although maybe not delightfully.

He’s arrived during the last five minutes of my office hours. I’m due at Teddy’s for dinner in an hour. The likelihood of some combination of the boys either knocking on my office door or appearing through the Fae Ways to collect me is astronomical.

Benighted Mother, his timing.

“What do you want, Rowan?” I ask, steepling my fingers and resting my chin on them.

“I want what’s rightfully mine,” he says, mirroring my pose, planting his elbows on the arms of my office guest chair and crossing one long leg over the other. He’s wearing another of his bespoke suits: this one blue with a black pinstripe. The fabric blurs slightly at the edges, like there’s a glamor on it, although it could just be an anti-stain treatment. “I want credit for the find on Isla Cedros. I want your teaching position at Bevington. I want a public apology for the information that resulted in my team producing laughable translations. I want you to stay out of the hunt for Ulune’s Daughter. And I want you discredited and disgraced for whoring around with a student. That picture gets me all of those things.”

I take a deep breath in and let it out slowly, letting my Element flow through me. Reaching past my swirl of emotions, down, down deep, I find the warm, still pool I’ve discovered as I’ve forgiven the boys. I’m not sure if it’s something to do with fated mates or finding my consorts or accepting the mantle of Crow Queen, but it’s an inner peace I didn’t have a week ago.

“That picture gets you nothing,” I say. “Not a single thing, Rowan, except the contempt of your peers for claiming something you didn’t earn.”

“If I send those anonymously to Dean Quinn on Monday morning, I’ll have all of those things by lunchtime.”

I shake my head at him slowly, gather up the pictures, and tuck them away in my bag. I’m sure he has copies. That’s not why I want them. I won’t be blackmailed. Not for a single second. But since Rowan’s tipped his hand, I have the opportunity to strategize and decide how I’m going to present this to Dean Quinn.

Rowan’s expression sours as he watches me. “You will give me what I want.”

I twirl my claws through the Air between us, swirling the aether around my hearthroom to dispel whatever he’s doing. It doesn’t feel like a compulsion. It’s not an enchantment. I can spot those as soon as a mage starts weaving one. Maybe it’s pure, malevolent will. Whatever it is, it’s a fetid breath on my neck. Another flick of my claws and a crisp breath of winter whispers through my hearthroom, like I’ve opened a window to the snowy Alps. That’s all Luca. And now, evidently, me too.

With our magic winding tighter and tighter, it was probably foolish of me to think I could hide my involvement with the boys until they graduate. And looking at Rowan’s reddening face, I don’t want to. I’m proud of being with them. They’re the men I chose to walk the Path beside me. The men who have chosen me above all else. I’m done hiding them.

“Leave, Rowan,” I warn. “The man in that picture is Lawson Cathmoir. Heir of the Cait Sidhe. He or his twin or my other boyfriend who is about to take the White Cloak is going to show up any minute. If they find you in here with me, all those things you think are important? Your academic pride and dignity and reputation? You’re going to realize none of them are as important as how you deal with an extremely angry, over-possessive fae.”

Rowan sputters. “You’re barely fae enough to have pointed ears.”

“Look deeper,” I tell him. “And seriously, go. You do not want to be here when they arrive.”

He unfolds himself from my guest chair with a sneer. “You will credit me for the find on Isla Cedros and–”

I wave him into silence. I’m not interested in hearing his demands a second time. I know what he wants. Now I need to think about how to thwart his skulking, weaselly ass.

He slams out of my office. I click my claws to lock the door behind him.

Pulling out my phone, I text Law.

Problem’s arisen. I’m going to Thistlemist early to talk over with Teddy. See you there.

He responds immediately.

Law: 1 minute from coming to get you. I’ll come along. Luca + human still in shower.

Before I respond, another message comes through:

Law: Please may I come?

My vision mists. It might not be his first thought. That will always be to protect me. But now his second thought is to make sure he has my consent.

Yes.

I’ve barely put away my phone and picked up my bag when Law steps into my office in a swirl of black vapor. I smile at him. Before he has a chance to say anything, I say, “I love you.”

His mouth works but no words come out. He holds his hand out to me. When I take it, he pulls me to him, scooping me up so I wind my legs around his hips, my arms around his neck. He slides a hand under my ass to support me and rubs noses with me.

“Is it too much to ask for that greeting every time?” he murmurs, pale green eyes searching mine.

“No, it’s not too much to ask. And I do love you. And I see how hard you’re trying to temper your caveman instincts?—”

“Cait instincts,” he corrects. “I’m a cupcake, not a caveman.”

I laugh. “I’m not sure you understand the whole cupcake concept.”

“I understand I’m your cupcake. Every day you let me back into your life, I understand better how to be your cupcake. Now tell me what this problem is while I Walk us into a nest of high fae and pray to the Mother I still have my hide when we walk back out.”

As if Teddy would ever let anything happen to someone I care about.

Then again, I did nearly kill Evan the last time I saw him.