Page 3 of Moonstriker (The Summertide Chronicles #4)
Chapter 3
Kit
The asshole was cute.
Of course he was.
He was looking at me like I was the swamp muck about to stain his shoes, eyes narrowed in irritation and jaw clenched tight, and he was cute.
I was used to rich assholes thinking I was garbage. Mere employees were nothing, after all, and once I stopped being Winter Moonstriker, eldest son of the Moonstriker family, and started being the duelist Kit Emrys, that was all I was to them: the hired help.
He was probably offended I expected him to help carry his own fucking bags. Imagine the offense, having to do something for yourself. I had grown up around people like that, as much as Delta hadn’t allowed me or my siblings to think that way, so I didn’t know why I was surprised.
The son of the man who’d brought gloom to the world for close to thirty years wasn’t likely to be an exception to that rule.
That’s not what it is , Nikka said, a sigh in her tone, but I ignored her. She’d been telling me how amazing Aubrey fucking Sagara was for years, and I was done with it. He was going to have to prove how perfect he was before I believed it, and so far, all he’d proven was that he didn’t want to help carry his own bags.
Frankly, it reminded me of his father. Combined with his wide, muscled shoulders that weren’t at all camouflaged by the dark jacket he wore, and those cornflower blue eyes, it was impossible not to see his father in him. His hair was the same chestnut brown as Oberon’s had been as well, though his had gold highlights. Very real looking gold highlights, almost like he spent time in the sun rather than having them bleached in a salon for hundreds of dollars.
Lady Duskbringer cocked her head at me, but smiled gamely. “So, not a duelist after all? I thought the white hair was dyed. Aren’t the kids doing that these days? Everyone wants to look like a Moonstriker, so they’re bleaching their hair?”
I rolled my eyes and tried not to groan, but the annoyance wasn’t aimed at her. In truth, I was half afraid I’d started that particular fashion trend, since I’d been claiming I bleached my hair for years, and I had traveled widely while at the side of one of the most important men in the Summerlands. It had gotten attention.
Aubrey glared even harder, because of course he did. “Something wrong with that?”
I rolled my eyes. “Wasting time and money in order to look prematurely old? I mean, I guess not, but I’m not inclined to do it. I miss the red hair I was born with.”
Titania jerked back as though shocked. “Red? You were a redhead?” Then her face softened into a smile. “Like Cove. His hair was red before he went white, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” I agreed, turning back to her with a smile. I was always happy to talk about that particular subject. “Which makes sense, because he’s my father. He’ll be arriving this afternoon with Florian Dawnchaser.”
Suddenly, Titania was absolutely beaming at me. “I didn’t know Cove had a son! The sly fox, he never said a word.” Then she ducked her head, as though embarrassed. “I know we rather...fell out of touch over the years. Our families and all that?—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Aubrey told her, taking her arm and patting her, giving me a sharp look, as though I’d demanded the explanation of why she and my father hadn’t spoken about my existence.
I ignored him, meeting her eye and waving away the worry. “It wasn’t public knowledge until recently. No reason you’d have known. I don’t think even Iri knew, from what Father has told me.”
She blinked in astonishment, then nodded to me, stepping forward into my space as she took me in, studying my features. It wasn’t terribly unusual, as reactions went. People were always fascinated by duelists, even as they were repelled by them. I’d never had someone enchanted by the fact that my father was my father before, though. It was nice, if only because it meant people other than me knew.
He’d finally claimed me, the way we had both always wanted, and it was a rush every time I was reminded of it.
My father loved me.
Zana was standing back, letting us interact, but when things went quiet for a moment, she stepped up. “Lunch is going to be served in a few moments, if that’s agreeable for everyone. We could wait for Lords Moonstriker and Dawnchaser?”
“Oh no,” Frost denied, shaking his head as he slung a second bag over his shoulder, then slammed the door of their SUV. “Uncle Cove and Florian wouldn’t want that. They’re not much for formality, and they would never want anyone to be hungry waiting on them.”
Pride bloomed in my chest at that, because once, Frost would have been the first to say we all needed to wait, because of social rules Delta had driven into him for years. It seemed that in my absence, my brother hadn’t just grown up, but realized that some rules weren’t quite so hard and fast as Delta always said.
But then he paused, cocking his head. “When did the other Moonstriker party say they were arriving?”
Of course he was worried about that. Bending the rules that Delta had drilled into him was all well and good, unless Delta was the one who might be inconvenienced by that freedom. Delta would always be the type to insist that people should go hungry waiting for her.
When Zana looked to me, concerned, I lifted my chin to Frost. “In the evening. If she’s angry people ate lunch without her when she doesn’t intend to arrive till seven, she can deal with that herself.”
Frost cocked his head, considering, then shrugged. “I am hungry. It would be a long time to wait.” He paused like that for a moment, and I suspected I was the only person present who knew the turmoil happening in his head.
Well, no . . . I wasn’t. Not anymore.
As though to prove that exact point, Caspian reached over and took his hand. “If your mother is annoyed, she can complain to me about it. The notion of waiting seven hours to eat on her account is crap, and we’re not gonna do it.”
Frost looked down at him, and the smile that bloomed on his face was as beautiful as it had been rare during our childhoods.
Somehow, seeing Caspian cut straight through to the heart of the matter, alleviating Frost’s worry and settling him so effectively...it was both a good thing and a bad one.
It was perfect, in fact. My brother was happy, and I’d never wanted anything else.
But also, I wasn’t at the center of that happiness anymore.
Which was fucking ridiculous, because Frost and I hadn’t seen each other for almost ten years before The Plan had started coming together over the last few months. I’d missed him, yes, thought of him almost every day. I was sure he’d missed me too. But we weren’t children anymore. We had both grown up and changed and had lives of our own.
Or, well, Frost did.
I had the next week.
I had The Plan.
And then...well, who knew? I might be dead. I might have any amount of time at all. If we succeeded, I would finally have the chance to make a life of my own. Well, assuming Nikka didn’t come up with some new world-shaking horror I had to head off another few decades in the future.
I wouldn’t do that to you , she muttered. I mean, unless the world was going to be destroyed again. But I don’t think it is. At least, not that I’ve seen yet .
Again, I tried not to groan aloud. Way to be reassuring , I told her, then turned my attention back to the people in front of me. “So, why don’t you follow Zana, and she’ll take you to your rooms and then the dining room, and I’ll help carry in the Duskbringers’ things, then we’ll all meet in the dining room for lunch?”
Zana bit her lip, as though worried that she wouldn’t be able to manage every single thing, but I smiled my most charming smile at her. “You showed me the suite you’d planned for the Duskbringers. I think it’s perfect. Two bedrooms, right?”
At that, she perked up and nodded. “Yes, two bedrooms. The Oak Suite. You don’t...mind?”
“Not in the least. Anything that’ll hurry lunch. The pancakes were good, but whatever the kitchen has been working on smells excellent, and I’d rather not wait.”
She grinned and ducked her head, then finally turned to Frost, Caspian, and Ember. “Please let me show you to your rooms, then. On Mr. Moonstriker’s advice, I put the three of you in the Cedar Suite. It’s also got two bedrooms, but Mr. Moonstriker said you’d prefer two to three?”
“Two is perfect,” Caspian reassured as the four of them headed up the stairs toward the door.
“Oak Suite, Cedar Suite,” Titania said, quiet but not whispered, cocking her head. “Interesting.”
“Mmm,” I agreed. “She put me in the Walnut Room, and believe me, I tried not to take offense.”
Again, Aubrey glared at me. It was a shame, because his eyes were beautiful when he wasn’t narrowing them into slits in my direction.
Titania gave the giggle I’d rather been hoping for when I’d said it. “Did you think she was trying to make a comment on your intelligence?”
I shrugged, turning back to where her bags were sitting near the back of their car, picking up one shiny black suitcase and pushing it into Aubrey’s hands. “I won’t deny I can be a bit of a walnut sometimes, but I prefer to be the one pointing it out, you know?”
I picked up another black suitcase, and an army green duffel that looked like it’d seen better days, slinging it over my shoulder. The final bag, a small one that looked intended for toiletries, I once again held out to Aubrey. It was certainly benevolent sexism at work, but I’d been taught never to ask a “lady” to carry anything. There weren’t a lot of women I thought of that way, admittedly, but Titania Duskbringer was one.
If it’d been Ember, I’d have probably handed her the biggest bag, just to be an ass.
Aubrey was still glaring at me when I turned toward the house, and he huffed. “I’m not your servant, you know.”
I lifted a brow at him. “What, I’m yours? This isn’t exactly Gloombringer Castle, buddy. No army of servants to carry things for us, just Zana and two others. You’re not expecting them to drop everything and come fetch and carry for you, are you?”
Titania gave a little squeak that sounded like surprise, and grabbed Aubrey’s arm, taking the smallest bag from him and leaning her weight on his large frame. “I’m sure that’s not what Aubrey meant. This is all just a little overwhelming.” She glanced nervously between the two of us a moment, then let her eyes go big and soft. “You know what I mean. This whole situation is just so much.”
It was a manipulation, clearly learned from years of being in the presence of sexist assholes who thought she was a delicate flower who might swoon at any moment. She was damned good at it, because my first instinct was to take care of her. My second was to be impressed.
I cocked my head to the side, smiling at her. “You’re very good at that, Lady Duskbringer.”
At that, a slow grin crossed her face. “You’re just like your father, Kit Moonstriker. It is Kit, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I agreed. “But I promise I’ll try to keep my misogyny to a minimum, and you won’t have to get the vapors to keep me from being an ass.”
“Deal,” she said, sticking out her hand to shake.
Bemusedly, I accepted. What else could I do?