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Keir turned away from his monitors and focused on me. “Hear me clearly, love. Nothing good can come from pursuing this topic of conversation.” Whoa. Was he in my head? “It’s a subject best left untouched.”

Would it have been better for him to name names, dates, places, and acts?

No. It wouldn’t have been better, but it was just as grievous.

How could he expect me to leave a vacuous space open where the answer to that question should be deposited?

That was impossible. Once asked, I had to have an answer.

Would it have been better to have never asked that question?

Of course. But unfortunately, I’d stumbled into a quagmire.

I stared into his beautiful, unflinching eyes for a few seconds before saying. “The thing is, it’s not a subject left untouched. It’s touched. There’s no going back because now I need to know.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?” He laughed. “That’s beneath you, Magistrate.”

“I hate it when people try to shame you into doing things their way with backhanded compliments. Backhanded compliments are bitch slaps.” He shook his head ever so slightly as a small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Like most things, confusion looked good on Keir.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, Enforcer. That’s beneath you .”

That got me a full-throated laugh. Normally, the sound and sight of that would thrill me. Not this time.

“Just make this easy on yourself and start talking,” I said. “I want details. And remember, I know where your brothers live.”

Of course, that only made him laugh harder. When his laughter subsided, he said, “So now you’re not only threatening me, but Killian and Kagan as well. You are just the cutest, love. But seriously. I’m asking you nicely. Go find something to distract yourself. Please.”

“Ugh! That was the most patronizing thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“If it’s a competition, I’m sure I can top that.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’ve just made it onto my shit list. AND! This is not over.”

I went straight to the mudroom and was donning my cute red plaid, boiled wool car coat.

My plan was to return to Esme’s shop straightaway and hear the result of Keir’s convo with Kagan when the room suddenly became darker.

My husband’s upper body was blocking the light that’d been streaming in from the mudroom door window.

His typical expression, which was a mix of adoration and teasing, was replaced with hypnotizing intensity.

Uh. Oh.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

I made my eyes look as wide and innocent as is possible for a fully mature woman. “Dare? What do you mean?” I knew perfectly well what he meant.

“Don’t you dare jog over to Esme’s and betray the confidence I just bestowed. You wouldn’t want to endanger the privilege of sharing secrets, would you?”

My mouth opened wide. “Betray a confidence? I would never!” That was exactly what I’d intended to do, but without the histrionics of calling it a betrayal, for cripes sakes. “I’m on my way to The Hallows,” I lied.

“Hmm-hum. Rita, my love, stay out of their way until they’ve figured things out.”

“You don’t believe me? Gosh, Keir. That stings.”

Not only had I lied, but then I’d tried to make him feel guilty about doubting me. I was bad. I felt my face turning pinkish and willed it to look as porcelain as the skin of a Ming Dynasty empress. Judging by Keir’s expression, it wasn’t working.

“You know,” he said. “I was thinking I could use a short stroll. I’ll walk you over then stop in at the pub for a pint while you’re checking in with your shop.”

I continued to look astonished by his accusation, but inside I was narrowing my eyes at his not-so-subtle machinations.

I could’ve called him out on the subterfuge, but we both knew I was a dog.

That’s not an insult to all the super fine dogs in the world who’re divine and bound for heaven.

It’s a comparison to the low-down, lying, cheating, stealing dogs. Sigh. Like me.

So, I said, “Delightful. Let’s go.”

When I stepped onto the green, which was not green but brown at this time of year, I cast a surreptitious glance toward Esme’s shop door. I was thinking that maybe, after Keir was settled at the pub with a pint, I’d accidentally happen by Esme’s and just drop in to say hello.

“Off to Molly’s.” Leaning closer as if to pre-punctuate a point, Keir said, “Don’t even think about ducking into Esmerelda’s.” I wilted a little internally. “I’ll know.”

“Does this mean you no longer trust me?”

By the gods. Could I sink any lower?

He had the nerve to chuckle and walk away without another word, leaving me gritting my teeth and thinking, “No, by heaven. He’s the dog.”

I know. I know. I know. Romantic gossip had made me completely shameless and perhaps a tad cuckoo. Sigh . I needed to get it together. On that thought, I buttoned my coat even though I was just steps away from The Hallows.

On another note, “Keir. Is there some particular reason why Kagan is so different from you and Killian?”

“Not sure what you’re asking.”

“Liar. You know exactly what I’m asking. He’s sullen. All the time. Was he born that way?” Keir sighed deeply and looked away, which meant I was onto something. “What?”

“This is never to go further than the two of us. Can you do that, Rita?”

“Yes,” I said with absolute certainty and every intention of following through. As much as Keir might like to tease me about gossip, when it comes to keeping secrets, I am a Blackhawk Mountain vault.

He stopped walking. I did the same.

“When we were very young, of the three of us, Kagan might’ve been most lighthearted.”

That thought seemed to trigger memories because Keir quieted and paused his story.

“Keir.”

“What?”

“You were saying Kagan was a lighthearted kid. Hard to picture, but go on. Please.”

“Right. I’ll be brief. He heard some fae children talking about their mothers and reasoned that Maeve must be ours.

One day he called her that. She slapped him.

” Keir scrubbed a palm down his face then continued.

“She hit him hard enough to send him flying into a wall and said, ‘Don’t ever call me that. I’m not your mother.

You were made . Not born.’ Afterward, he was different. ”

After a pause and some rapid blinking, I said, “That’s awful enough to make my heart hurt. You were there and heard the same thing. Why didn’t it affect you that way?”

Keir shrugged. “Who knows?” With a hint of a smile, he said, “I guess he wanted a mom more than I did? Maybe he’s more sensitive.

” I scoffed, but he went on as if I hadn’t made a sound.

“Creation is tricky. There are small, medium, and large twists. No matter the experience or talent of the creator, there are always unforeseen consequences.”

“You’re saying that’s why the three of you look identical, but aren’t.”

Keir cocked his head. “You think we look identical?”

I immediately recalibrated thinking I needed to switch to thin-ice mode. My version of thin ice goes something like this. “Um. Well. You, um…”

He laughed. “Joking, love. I know we look very similar.”

I suppressed an impulse to shout, “SIMILAR?!?” Instead, I deadpanned and nodded like no one could argue with that.

“Now I feel bad for Kagan. That story makes me dislike Maeve even more.”

“If you ever divulge this to anyone, and I mean anyone , I will move into my den and lock you out.”

Interesting that his threat was to move to another room in our house, but not out of our house. I took that to mean he was hedging bets, leaving room for a comeback.

“You mean you’d stoop to withholding sex to get your way?”

“Without hesitation.”

“Wow. Does that mean sex isn’t all that important?”

“Does that mean I’ve made an indelible impression?”

“In more ways than one.”

“In that case,” he chuckled, “see you later.”

He turned and headed toward Molly’s without looking back.

I didn’t know if Keir would make good on his threat, but it was irrelevant.

I wouldn’t share something so terribly personal about Kagan, but I was very serious about having less regard for Maeve.

Since my respect for her was already running on fumes, this latest information meant that, in my mind, she might’ve crossed the line into the category of villain.

Did I want someone so thoughtless and cruel influencing my granddaughter?

With a sigh, I realized that question was pointless. Not my call to make.

“Maggie!” I called as I entered the store and took a deep sniff of great great-smelling air.

Somewhere in the building, a candle with yummy fir-tree-based scent was spreading holiday cheer.

It made me want to pull up a divan and order a Starbucks.

I was certain there was marketing brilliance behind the scheme.

Something like making customers want to linger and buy more.

I was lucky to have Maggie in charge of The Hallows.

But really, who was I kidding? The Hallows was her store.

My technical ownership was just that. Technical.

Who would’ve guessed that a banshee would be so perfectly suited to moonlight as a shopkeeper?

Managing The Hallows was not her principal gig after all.

Since the occupation that claimed her as a species was conducted in hours of darkness, it might be said that her work at The Hallows was “sunlighting”?

Those were the thoughts I was entertaining when I froze in place.

In front of me was the most beautiful, larger-than-life-sized carousel horse I’d ever seen.

I say “larger than life” because it was as big as an actual war horse.

Furthermore, it wasn’t an actual carousel horse.

I knew that because there was no mechanism, like a pole, that would attach it to an amusement ride. Technically, it was a statue.