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CHAPTER FOUR Waters Still and Deep

“What is wrong with you today?” Keir demanded, standing in thigh-high waders in the river below Kagan’s ruin of a Scottish castle.

The question didn’t spring from an observation that Kagan was in a bad mood.

Kagan’s features were permanently locked on brooding.

Only magic had kept his forehead free of rifts between his brows.

Unsurprisingly, Kagan’s expression didn’t change upon hearing his brother’s question. Nor did he answer right away. He deftly shifted his rod back then cast with the fluid grace of a Baryshnikov grand jete?.

Keir shook his head, wondering how his brother had mastered fly fishing while he’d managed mediocre at best. At times, he’d considered that perhaps he and his brothers were identical only in looks and the unusual ability to shift into gigantic, winged lions.

Of course, the answer might be found in the principle of practice making perfect.

Kagan fished every day while Keir passed his time as master of the sports bookie universe.

The enforcer knew there was no point pressing Kagan for either speech or information. He’d answer when he was good and ready. If at all.

At length, he said, “Esme does no’ want to see me anymore.”

Keir had to take a minute to process that. The idea that his brother might be rejected was unthinkable. Yes, Kagan was surly. But he was also a sephalian! Any woman would be lucky to land him. For confirmation of that, one need only ask his spouse.

“What makes you think that?” Keir asked casually.

“Said so.”

“She told you that?” Keir sounded every bit as amazed as he was by the unexpected turn of events. Kagan replied with a barely-there nod. Keir paused to process that. “What did you say?”

Kagan looked at his brother like he was institutionalized and overdue for meds. “Nothin’.”

“Nothing?” Keir didn’t expect a response to his question, and he didn’t get one. So, he asked another that was more to the point. “How did she tell you?”

Kagan’s gold-green eyes, identical to Keir’s, flashed a look at his brother. “What do you mean?”

Keir scoffed silently. If he told his brother what he was thinking, which was that it was a dumb question, that would be the end of fishing for the day. So, he swallowed the sarcasm with a gallon of patience and said, “Was it by phone or text or in person?”

“Phone.”

“Oh.”

Kagan frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“What?”

Kagan gritted his teeth. “Oh.”

Keir hadn’t intended to aggravate Kagan more. “So, she called you and said she doesn’t want to see you anymore. And you didn’t say anything?” Kagan nodded. “How did the conversation end then? You went mute, so she just hung up?”

Again, Kagan’s chin jerked upward.

“Hmmm,” Keir said without looking up as he concentrated on untying a knot in his line.

After some time had passed, Kagan broke the silence, hating that he was again forced to ask, “What does that mean?”

Keir was so caught up in the busywork of pulling at knots that he’d forgotten he’d left a provocative “hmmm” hanging in the air. “What?”

“Hmmm! You said hmmm!” Kagan sounded as irritated as he felt. He’d already answered a month’s worth of questions in a half-hour’s time and spoken his entire ration of words for the week.

“Oh. It’s nothing if you were ready to end the relationship.”

Kagan’s brow wrinkled as his cast arced in a perfect loop once again. Keir knew his brother well enough to know the best plan was to remain silent while Kagan thought through the implications and ramifications. When Kagan broke the silence, it was to ask, “What if I was no’?”

Keir turned his body away to hide his smile. When he turned back, features sober as a judge, he said, “If ending things wasn’t what you wanted, you might ask her why?”

“What good would that do? If she does no’ want me, she does no’ want me.”

“Well…”

Again, Keir let that hang in the air until Kagan’s curiosity got the better of him. With clear frustration, he said, “What do you mean ‘well’? ‘Well’ does no’ mean anythin’. You’re tryin’ to annoy me.”

“Well…”

Kagan threw his rod down in disgust. “Great gryphon! You are the most annoyin’ of us.”

Keir had to exercise some discipline to keep a muzzle on his laughter. “In fairness, brother, you are easily annoyed.” Kagan grunted in disgust. “I just mean to say that interactions with the opposite sex aren’t always what they seem. Females are complex creatures, often tricky.”

“Tricky?” Kagan sounded like he was taking exception to that. He shook his head. “Esme’s no’ tricky.”

Keir suppressed the splutter that tried to erupt.

In his estimation, tricky defined Esme. For gods’ sakes, she was trickier than Loki.

He could only surmise that either she didn’t show that side of herself to Kagan, or that Kagan was too much in love to see it.

He decided a little diplomacy was the order of the day.

“Perhaps not. But you deserve to know why. Don’t you?”

Kagan looked down at his rod lying in the clear running water. “Aye.”

“So, be the male I know you to be and ask her outright. Face to face.”

What red-blooded lion would shrink from a challenge like that?

Kagan bent and pulled his rod from the bubbling water. The line was a mass of tangles. He didn’t bother trying to sort it out. He simply dropped it on the ground and began stomping uphill, presumably toward wherever he’d left his seldom-used phone.

Keir sat down on the riverbank and took time to simply relish the gorgeous day.

It was cool, but he wasn’t bothered by that.

He took time to listen to birds, running water, and the rhythmic heartbeat of the earth beneath his body.

It was a rare gem of a moment. There was nowhere he needed to be other than where he was, and life felt good.

In a third of an hour, Kagan ambled down the steep hill and sat on the grass next to Keir.

“Well?” Keir asked.

Kagan swiveled his head so that he could stare. “Are you trying to be funny?”

“Yes.”

Kagan scoffed. “She says she’s no’ worthy of my attentions.”

Of all the things Keir expected to hear, that was perhaps the last he would’ve guessed. “That doesn’t sound like the Esme I know.” He was thinking perhaps he didn’t know the real Esme like he thought he did.

“She thinks she’s human and I’m a posh.”

Keir looked as confused as he felt. “Honestly, I don’t know what that means.”

Kagan pulled his knees up and braced himself against the hill behind him with arms outstretched. “I think she means, you know, one of them.”

“Them?”

Kagan was getting exasperated by his brother’s lack of understanding. He threw one arm out toward the horizon in frustration. “The nobles.”

It took Keir a minute to process what had just been said. Understanding was immediately followed by laughter. “Us? Noble? That’s a new one.” Keir looked at his brother. “She’s got this all wrong. Esme’s not human. And we’re not nobility.”

“I know.”

“Did you tell her that?” Kagan nodded. “What did she say?”

“The same. She can be kind of…”

“Stubborn?”

“Right. That.”

“Might be just as well. You probably don’t want a mate that stubborn.” When silence stretched on, Keir added, “Do you?”

“’Tis no’ a bad thing to be firm in one’s intention. A stubborn female is true as glue once she makes her mind up about a mate.”

Keir snorted. “True as glue? Who are you? Full stop. I didn’t mean that to rhyme, but seriously, my brother.

When did you become an authority on women?

A few minutes ago, you were clueless.” Kagan said nothing.

Of course. “Seems like you’ve thought this out, though.

” Again, Kagan said nothing. “Seems like you’ve thought this out,” Keir repeated, “and she’s what you want.

” Kagan nodded. “Want my advice?” Keir took Kagan’s sniff as a yes.

“Stop faffing around. Go to Lily’s. Have her make a bouquet so big you can barely get your arms around it.

Tell Lily it has to be breathtaking and add a big red bow around the stems. Hand deliver the flowers to Esme and tell her that, even if she were human…

which she’s not, she’s the one for you and you’re not taking no for an answer. ”

After a pause that was longer than conversational, Kagan repeated Keir’s pronouncement as a question. “I’m no’ takin’ no for an answer?”

“Of course not. You’re not just some Scottish fisherman after all. For Casban’s sake. You’re a winged lion! One of only three in all creation.”

“Know that.”

“Then act like it.”

It would be a long time, maybe centuries, before Esmerelda really knew Kagan.

Keir, on the other hand, knew him well and couldn’t remember his brother having ever backed away from a challenge.

As predicted, he could see determination wash over Kagan’s features.

The soft lines of uncertainty were replaced with the hard angles of purpose.

Rising to his feet, Kagan said, “Have to go.”

“What about your fishing line?” Keir asked. Ignoring that as if no one had spoken, Kagan just kept walking. Keir took that as an answer. Over his shoulder, he shouted, “Don’t cock it up!”

The mass of tangles lying on the grass was begging for attention.

From someone. For a few seconds, Keir thought about righting Kagan’s line as a good deed, but decided instead to head home to the comforts of his sports den and a cookie jar full of bacon.

He could spend an hour sorting with little or no appreciation from Kagan.

Or he could leave it and let Esme use her extra-human weaving gifts to right it in an instant.

Keir couldn’t help but smile at the idea of Esme believing she was human. It was beyond ridiculous. It was ludicrous.