Page 35 of Cathmoir’s Sons (Bad Boys of Bevington #5)

Chapter 35

Three Days

LUCA

I stand behind Caileán at the window of our villa and watch the horizon darken over the white peaks of the waves. She shakes in my arms, tiny tremors of anger and frustration.

She and Law returned from Torre Faro in the middle of a raging argument. She wanted to warn everyone about the Graeae’s storm. Law vehemently objected on the basis that it would bring unwanted attention to the growing fae presence in Scilla.

Surprisingly, Arch sided with Law. How was Caileán planning to explain how she knew about the storm without anyone guessing the deal she’d made with the Graeae? With the Graeae gone, access to Charybdis was open. Was she willing to risk someone else recovering Ulune’s Daughter?

Their argument went on until we heard the wind howling even through the sturdy walls of the villa and Caileán realized it was too late for an effective warning. She stomped off to try to reach Rowan Wright and Jakob Maher, to tell them to get off the water. But they both refused her calls.

After I told my brother he’s a fucking idiot, I found our mate by the big window in our bedroom, watching the storm brew.

“I told you Law’s more than a prince,” I whisper into her hair. “He’s a general. He’ll always approach everything as a battle. He’ll always preserve every advantage. It’s to protect you and the Cait. Always.”

“I made this bargain,” she whispers back, barely audible over the howl of the wind. “I’m in here safe and sound. No one down there knows what’s coming. They’re defenseless.”

“It’s winter, baby. It’s storm season,” Rhodes says from behind us. “They’re not defenseless.”

I heard him come up the stairs and stop in the doorway a moment ago. Since I don’t get much one-on-one time with our mate, particularly when she needs comfort, I appreciate him not butting in physically.

Lightning forks down, searing the sky to white before the darkness closes in again.

Caileán takes a ragged breath. “If there’s damage to Scilla or Torre Faro, I want to make it right. Law wants to throw his money around? This is how we’re going to spend it.”

“That’s a cause I’m very happy to support,” Law says.

I didn’t hear him come up the stairs because Law’s utterly silent when he wants to be. I glance over my shoulder. He’s standing a step behind Rhodes in the doorway. My twin can give great poker face when he wants to. His expression’s closed, unflinching, but his eyes are black holes of hurt and need. He wants to be the one standing where I’m standing, comforting our mate.

I unwrap one arm and hold it out to the rest of our foursome. I appreciate that they’ve given me a minute with Caileán, but I don’t need to hoard her. Unlike my mate-hog of a twin.

Law moves so fast I can’t track his movement. He slips under my arm and mashes himself against Caileán’s side, wrapping himself around the both of us. Less preternaturally, Rhodes steps up behind me and kisses the back of my head before pressing his chest against my back.

“I don’t like fighting with you,” Law murmurs to Caileán as he peppers kisses over her temple and ear. She reaches up and wraps her arm around his neck.

“I don’t like fighting with you, either. I understand what you’re doing. I know you’re keeping us safe.” Caileán sighs. “I’m being selfish, trying to assuage my own conscience. I need to live with the consequences of my decisions.”

“It’s not selfish to warn others of danger.” I rub her arm. I won’t have Law’s overprotectiveness make Caileán spiral into self-loathing.

“It’s selfish to visit misery on others to get what I want,” Caileán says. “I think, after this, I might confine my hunts to Faery. At least there if I cause a tsunami I can protect everyone with my magic.”

“Why can’t we do that here?” Rhodes asks. “The four of us, surely together we can ward the coastlines? Keep damage to a minimum?”

Caileán spins in my arms, looking up at us, her eyes wet. “Please? Please, Law? I feel sick at the thought of Scilla and Torre Faro being damaged by a magickal storm I caused. Can’t we at least create a barrier on both coastlines?”

Law’s mouth works silently as he tries to parse through the potential pitfalls of her request, but he caves at the hope in our mate’s eyes. “Yes, we can do that.”

Caileán doesn’t waste a moment. She grabs our hands. Between one blink and the next, we’re standing on the rain-lashed, black-cobbled road below Castella Ruffo di Scilla. The blue and green painted boats on the concrete shingle between us and the sea rock against their moorings with the force of the wind and waves. The waterfront is deserted. A few parked cars stand sentinel along Vico II Spirito Santo.

“The humans know a storm is coming,” Law says, placatingly.

“They don’t know how bad it’s going to get,” Caileán responds, squinting into the distance as though she could see Torre Faro, which is impossible given the low clouds and the rain falling in gray sheets. “They don’t know how long it will last. I think Luca and I should create a barrier of Air, maybe five feet high?”

Law shakes his head. “The waves will crash over it. It’ll be visible to the humans.”

“We’ll create a barrier in the water,” Rhodes says. “Just off both shores. Just under the height of the water. It will act like a reef or barrier island, stopping the worst of the waves. It won’t affect the currents or sea life that close to shore.”

Caileán looks up at him from between strands of black hair stuck to her forehead and cheeks by the rain. “That’s much better. The worst of the damage will come from waves and flooding. If we feed you power, can you raise the barriers?”

Rhodes leans forward to press a kiss to her wet forehead. “Yes, baby. Relax. We’ve got this.”

She smiles tentatively.

“Close your eyes,” he says. “Don’t push your power into me. Water flows. Let it come naturally.”

I close my eyes, grip Caileán’s hand in my right and Rhodes’ in my left and let the howling wind tear away the barriers all magi keep around their power.

Magic thickens the air as we open ourselves to Rhodes. The sharp scent of ozone sweeps the beach. Lightning cracks down from the heavy clouds, followed by an immediate roll of thunder. Law and I don’t Work together very often but we’ve drawn lightning before when we have.

A gentle current swirls between the four of us, a counterpoint to the fury of the storm. Rhodes draws it in. Instead of becoming a vortex for our power, it ripples out from him, spreading across the pounding waves, sinking deep into the ocean. When our power reaches the seabed, it rests there, spreading slowly. Power leaks under the waves in a countercurrent to the storm. I feel Rhodes seeking out the strange tides that run through the waters of the Straits. He rides them: flowing and swirling through the rocks. I’ve always felt the depths of Rhodes’ power. Now I feel the peacefulness of those depths, the way he absorbs our magic and incorporates it into his own instead of pushing it out into the world. He’s more part of the mortal world than the rest of us are. Water touches everything; it’s the sea without a shore. Until this moment, I didn’t realize what that truly meant for a Water mage.

Rhodes’ current flexes, finding a natural line between the depths of the Straits and the rise to shore where the sand is nearly bare. His power gathers in, thickens, not so much the wall I’d imagined when Caileán asked him to raise a barrier, but a stationary riptide that claws the energy out of the waves thundering overhead. The boom of the surf in my ears softens. I hear the calls of seabirds for the first time since we’ve appeared on Scilla’s shore.

I open my eyes to peek at Rhodes. He smiles at me, a gesture which carves lines around his eyes and across his forehead. “It’s done. It’ll hold against the worst of the storm.”

“Are you okay?” I ask. He wielded our combined power so confidently that I didn’t realize how much it would cost him until it was over.

He nods. “A good meal and a good night’s sleep and I’ll be fine.”

I break our circle to hug him. “Caileán and I are due back at Bevvy for our Winter Study classes tomorrow. You could come with us: a rest day.”

“I will,” Rhodes agrees.

“We’ll go together,” Law says. He’s dropped Rhodes’ hand and wrapped his arm around Caileán’s shoulders. She leans against him, smiling even as rain drips off her nose and chin.

Law’s head lifts, his nostrils flaring. “Humans. Hold on.”

He shifts us around so he’s standing between us and the road. Wisps of black smoke, barely visible in the rain, swirl around him as he draws a glamor over us. A small group of humans, huddled under a pair of umbrellas, make their way slowly down the steps from the castle. Two younger men flank a much older man, supporting him, holding the umbrellas over him with care. I remember the old man from the restaurant Kellan and I ate at our first night in Scilla.

“Angelo,” the old man says when they’re within speaking distance.

“Angel,” Caileán murmurs. Whether she knows Italian or Teddy’s necklace is translating, I don’t know. As the old man speaks, she translates: “You are sent by God to protect us. I knew it from the day I saw you standing outside my restaurant. I knew you had come in answer to my prayers. My nephews say this storm was not predicted. They say it is the work of the devil. But I know you will keep the devil’s fury from us.”

“Can you translate back to him?” Law asks Caileán. She nods.

“Thank you for your faith, father,” Law says. Caileán repeats in Italian. “I will do everything in my power to keep this storm from hurting the town. You must warn your family and friends to stay indoors. Not to venture out onto the waves. The storm will last three days. Stay inside until it is over.”

“Thank you, angel, thank you,” Caileán translates the old man’s reply.

“You must not tell anyone but your family about this,” Law warns. “If more people learn that the town is protected by angels, they will come in search of my power, and I’ll have to leave. Do you understand, father?”

The old man and his nephews nod.

“If there are other things that will hurt the town, I will tell you and your nephews. You must keep the source of your knowledge secret. Can you do that while spreading the word in the town?” Law asks.

The old man and his nephews nod again. One of the younger men reaches for Law, takes Law’s hand between his, and bows his head over it.

“God bless you. We will keep your secrets. We lost our father to the sea ten years ago. To a storm like this. Many have been lost over the years. Please protect our town, angel,” he says in Italian, with Caileán slowly translating.

Law turns his hand within the man’s and shakes. “We will.” He gives the man the villa’s address. “If there’s trouble, come find me there. Anyone at that address knows who I am and will get a message to me.”

The nephew pumps Law’s hand. “Thank you, angel, thank you.”

“Go back inside and stay there until the storm is over,” Law says. “Stay safe.”

Bowing, the three men make their way back up the steps into the upper part of the town.

I lift my eyebrow at my brother once the humans are out of hearing. “Allying with humans? How the mighty Cait have fallen.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “It makes sense to have them on our side. The old man must have fae blood; he recognizes me no matter what face I wear. His kin might, too. There’s no point in trying to conceal that we’re something other than human if he can see through glamor.”

“And when they discover we’re decidedly unangelic?”

Law pulls Caileán close and nuzzles her temple. “Speak for yourself. I’m a perfect angel. And a cupcake. With toe beans.”

Caileán’s laughter rings out louder than the thunder.