Page 30

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

?TLAQUOY, ONE MONTH LATER.

“Decorating your dwelling place is such a human thing to do.”

H?ra’s words rang from behind Madeleine, throughout the stone cottage’s modest living room.

At the sound of them, Madeleine pivoted on her heel to stare at her.

An entire month had passed since H?ra’s earth-shattering revelation, and Madeleine still wasn’t used to statements like that.

You’d think she would be.

Over the last month, H?ra had been more-or-less forthcoming about her species.

Madeleine had learned about the average Each-uisge lifespan (centuries), diet (carnivorous), mating rituals (brutal), and role in the natural world (unseen, impossible, magical).

And yet, when H?ra referred to something ordinary as “human”—as if it were strange or absurd to her—Madeleine found herself taken aback once more.

H?ra didn’t seem to notice she’d said anything amiss.

She set Madeleine’s suitcase by the front door.

She’d insisted on carrying it both from the Merryweather’s curb to the car, and then from the car to the cottage.

“It’s etiquette,” she’d said as she lifted the suitcase in one fluid movement while Madeleine fought not to stare at her muscular arms.

Now H?ra looked around the cottage with her hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised.

Her black ponytail lay draped over one broad shoulder.

She certainly looked human, if more…

compelling than any human of Madeleine’s acquaintance.

Madeleine gulped. Not the time to think about that.

They’d agreed.

“I’m not going to do much decorating. But it’s one thing to be in a hotel room for a month”—maybe the longest month of her life, what with Harry Duggan’s gossip—“and another to be in a cottage for…however long…without anything to look at.”

“There’s furniture,” H?ra objected.

True. The stone cottage Jim had just vacated, following his wedding, came furnished—with furniture Jim had owned as a bachelor, and which his bride refused to allow into their home.

There was a faded yellow sofa whose cushion springs had seen better days.

A brown Naugahyde armchair cracked on the left arm.

A card table and folding chairs in place of a real kitchen set.

“There is furniture, technically,” Madeleine agreed.

H?ra dropped onto the armchair and leaned back, spreading her legs wide.

“It’s comfortable.”

Madeleine’s mouth still went dry.

She would not stare at the seam of H?ra’s jeans between her legs.

She’d keep her eyes squarely on H?ra’s face, with its sparkling eyes and mischievous grin.

Maybe H?ra’s face wasn’t such a safe place to look either.

“You’ll be comfortable too,” H?ra said.

“It’s not so bad, is it? Jim left a few things on the walls. What about that picture over the fireplace?”

With difficulty, Madeleine looked away from H?ra’s eyes to the picture in question.

“Dogs playing poker. It certainly is a picture. I’d rather look into a nice fire, personally.”

Now wouldn’t be a bad time.

She shivered. The stone cottage wasn’t as well insulated as her room at the Merryweather had been, and the radiator was working twice as hard to be half as good.

“I don’t like fire,” H?ra said.

They faced each other across the length of the living room, such as it was.

Just a few feet. It still felt like too short a distance for Madeleine’s pounding heart.

It felt too long as well.

“Because it’s your opposite element?” she asked.

H?ra smiled. She always did whenever Madeleine showed any insight into her…

state of being. “Yes. I’d never seen it before I came to this cottage for the first time. Then I hated it at once.”

“Is it the heat?” That was a shot in the dark, but H?ra seemed impervious to cold.

She’d even told Madeleine that she didn’t take hot showers.

After that revelation, Madeleine had needed a few minutes to stop picturing H?ra in the shower, hot or otherwise.

“That, and the way it…” H?ra seemed to hesitate.

“The way it eats everything up when it gets out of control. And how quickly that happens.”

Madeleine bit her bottom lip.

She could think of something that had a similar effect on her.

How funny that H?ra should fear fire’s power when she, a creature of the cold ocean, still threatened to burn Madeleine alive.

H?ra slapped the arms of the chair and rose to her feet.

“Never mind that. I’m going to check the back door.”

“Why?”

“The bolt looked a little rickety last I checked. Not that we’ve got to worry about burglars out here, but I’d have you be secure.”

Madeleine’s face heated as H?ra strode toward the back of the cottage, followed by the thump of the back door opening and closing.

H?ra often spoke of wanting Madeleine’s safety.

Over the last month, she’d made Madeleine feel safer than anyone ever had—and less safe too.

She was confident in her abilities to the point of arrogance, and she had a way of making everything seem under control.

She was also no less alluring than she’d been when they met.

Her lean figure was an increasing torment that never failed to make Madeleine’s heart pound.

Each day, Madeleine’s self-control strained against an increasingly gossamer-like leash.

Her phone pinged with a text, and a hot, relieved breath rushed from her chest. A distraction.

She looked at the screen.

Move-in day! Good luck!

!

Becca’s text brought a welcome smile to Madeleine’s face.

It wasn’t as good as seeing her friend’s face or hearing her voice, but the timing was perfect.

Thanks. What are you doing up so early?

Boostie needs the new shot every 5 hours for the next 2 days.

It’s so much fun

There followed a picture of an enraged Booster, his golden eyes narrowed as he plotted revenge.

Poor baby. How is he?

Getting better. How are YOU?

Madeleine worried her lip and debated sending a picture of the living room.

Maybe later. Becca would be horrified by the furniture.

Doing fine

Don’t me, what about H?

Is she so excited you’re staying?

?

Madeleine had told Becca a little about what was going on.

Emphasis on a little .

She had omitted the tiny fact of H?ra’s supernatural origins.

She’d said she was staying in Orkney longer to get more answers, with the help of “a friend” she’d made here—a woman.

After that, Becca hadn’t been able to rest until Madeleine’s “friend” had a name, and said it would be amazing for Madeleine to have a “friend,” and Becca wouldn’t be opposed to hearing if there were any further developments concerning this “friend.”

In other words, Becca had been extremely supportive.

Maybe excessively so.

She wouldn’t object to Madeleine having a relationship with a woman, that was clear, and Madeleine still didn’t know how she felt about that.

Appreciative? Afraid?

She’d go with confused.

That was partly because Madeleine couldn’t tell Becca the whole truth and see what kind of 180-degree turn her support would take.

Either Becca wouldn’t believe her and would think she’d lost her mind—or, worse, Becca would believe her, and think she’d lost her mind even more.

Just then, the back door banged open again, signaling H?ra’s imminent return.

Madeleine hastily typed a farewell text to Becca, saying yes, “H” was very excited, but now Madeleine had to go.

She urged Becca to please get some sleep and ended with two heart emojis to make it nice.

She put her phone back in her pocket right before H?ra strode back into the room.

“How’s the bolt?”

“Needs fixing. I’ll take care of it this week for you. I don’t often get to work with metal.”

Her eyes were alight with pleasure at a new task.

It was one of her most appealing characteristics.

She’d told Madeleine about how overwhelmed she’d been when she’d come to live on land.

Every challenge had seemed insurmountable, and there was so much to learn.

“But I’ve always been good at doing things,” she’d said casually, “and I like to do them better than anybody else, so I worked it all out.”

Madeleine had thought of how H?ra had felt her up in that alley, which was clearly the first time she’d ever done that.

Yes, H?ra could work things out beautifully.

The throb of recollection had taken over Madeleine, as it did now, and it was only getting worse…

Or better, that heavy ache, that…

She had to think about something else immediately.

H?ra had mentioned working with metal.

A memory of Madeleine’s mythological studies surfaced in her mind.

She glanced at the front door, which presumably had the same bolts and locks as the back one.

The metal was black and thick, rough in places, and rubbed shiny in the spots where people had touched it over the years.

“The bolts are iron, aren’t they?” she asked.

“Yes. Well done,” H?ra said, in a way that would have been sarcastic coming from most people.

H?ra, however, sounded genuinely pleased that Madeleine could identify a basic material substance.

Probably because it had been yet another thing she’d had to learn, herself.

It was kind of adorable, and Madeleine’s chest warmed.

She smiled in spite of herself.

“I read that iron is dangerous to magical creatures. It hurts you if you touch it. That’s why people used to put horseshoes above their doors, to keep wicked fairies away.”

H?ra frowned at her right palm.

Then she sniffed it.

“Hmm. Come here.”

Madeleine came here, as if H?ra were a magnet and Madeleine herself an iron filing.

H?ra held out her hand, palm forward, in front of Madeleine’s mouth.

“Smell that.”

The meaty part of her palm did have a little scrape on it, along with a brown smudge.

Madeleine bent her head.

The tip of her nose brushed the flesh of H?ra’s palm, warm and roughened with work.

It smelled sharp, metallic.

A little dirty, but in the honest way of the earth, not of filth.

If she moved her head just a little more, Madeleine could nuzzle that palm with her lips, her whole face.

She pressed her lips together against the urge—and the ache that spread through her body—and raised her head.

“Smells like iron, all right,” she mumbled.

“I like the smell. Iron’s no danger to me. I’m not a fairy, anyway. They all died. It’s a pity—the lore of my kind says they were delicious.” H?ra sniffed her palm again.

“Ah well, I’m off to wash my hands.”

And she walked off, full of swagger and jaw-dropping observations, seemingly unaware of both.

Madeleine’s mouth hung open, and she snapped it shut.

Okay. H?ra’s palm was warm, her skin smelled incredible even when it had iron smudges on it, she walked as if she owned the ground beneath her feet, and she made Madeleine’s body hot and unfamiliar to herself, but that was…

fine. Madeleine would deal with it.

She’d had a month’s practice by now.

She’s remarkable, Madeleine’s damnable inner voice whispered, she’s extraordinary.

And heaven help her, that wasn’t wrong.

Within moments, H?ra returned to the living room and seemed not to notice that Madeleine hadn’t moved an inch.

“You’re doing some shopping in the village today? For these decorations you want?”

The village.

Oh, right. There was a world beyond this cottage, a future beyond this moment.

Madeleine had forgotten.

“Uh, yes,” she said.

“I’m sure you have to work, but you’re…”

H?ra’s amber eyes looked softly into her own.

“Welcome to come,” Madeleine whispered.

By now, she didn’t need to say it.

H?ra was always welcome.

Madeleine never tired of her company: her questions, her observations, her candor.

You could say she was a breath of fresh air—if the air was a sharp wind that blew in from the sea.

Together, they’d rambled all over Jorsay, although H?ra was still leery of spending time on the shore.

Madeleine had accompanied H?ra during her work on the farm, learning more about sheep than she’d ever planned to.

They were always in company, and Madeleine—an introvert by nature—found that when they parted at the end of each day, she was already looking forward to the next one.

H?ra’s first smile of the morning had become the sunrise.

Now Madeleine looked up at H?ra, who was remarkable and extraordinary and all the rest, and she fought not to sway forward, though her body longed to.

She thought: Take me in your arms, like you did before.

Hold me close so I’ll forget all the rest .

I want so much to forget it.

Lord in heaven, Madeleine was in so much danger.

She prayed the Act of Hope every night, along with other prayers that seemed to be losing their efficacy by the hour.

“I’ll go anywhere with you, you know that,” H?ra said.

“I expect we’ll need the car.”

Madeleine’s mouth was dry.

I’ll go anywhere with you .

H?ra just said things like that, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

For her, maybe it wasn’t.

For Madeleine, if she wasn’t careful, it could become everything.

“Yes,” she said. “I’d expect so.”

“You should try driving again. You’ve nearly got the hang of going on the left.”

“Maybe I will. It’s less hair-raising than when you do it.”

“I’m a good driver,” H?ra objected.

“My reflexes are better than everyone else’s.”

“That doesn’t mean you can go three times as fast as everyone else. Curves in the road don’t un-bend for your reflexes. Maybe we should get you a book on physics next.”

“Maybe you should just close your eyes.” Grinning, H?ra looked around the living room again.

“You can’t want to get that many things. This place isn’t all bad. The bed’s nice at least, isn’t it?”

She wandered through the open bedroom door, as if to check for herself.

Her hips swayed easily as she walked.

Do not follow her into your bedroom.

Or any bedroom. But especially yours.

Ignoring her completely, Madeleine’s feet followed H?ra into the bedroom.

She entered just in time to see H?ra sit down on the edge of the bed and bounce a little.

“See?” H?ra said. “Brand new. Seems comfortable enough to me.”

No doubt it was.

The bed was the one item Jonathan had replaced, saying he didn’t want to shame himself by making Madeleine sleep on Jim’s ancient mattress, and it’d be good for future tenants too.

Madeleine, though used to sleeping on ancient mattresses, had decided a man’s used one was a different thing, and she’d thanked Jonathan wholeheartedly.

Now, though, she saw H?ra leaning back on a clean, firm, queen-sized mattress.

Maybe it would have been a good idea to make the bed as unappealing a site as possible.

“Have you tried the bed yet?” H?ra asked.

“To see if you like it?” She leaned back on her hands, her legs spread again, her eyes gleaming.

It would be an invitation from anyone else.

With H?ra, Madeleine could never be sure.

The…woman…before her operated by no rules Madeleine understood.

H?ra sat like this all the time, lounging on surfaces and taking up all the space she wanted.

It might not mean anything special.

Was Madeleine staring at her?

Again? Her face flamed.

“No, I haven’t tried it.”

H?ra patted the mattress next to her.

“No time like the present.”

Maybe this was a dream.

Yet another dream, all too like the ones that had plagued Madeleine over the last several weeks.

H?ra’s lazy smile and her long body, on offer if Madeleine’s desire finally overcame her resistance.

Madeleine sat next to H?ra on the bed because her knees didn’t want to support her anymore.

That was the only reason.

Their knees bumped. Their thighs almost touched.

Madeleine could barely breathe.

“What do you think?” H?ra asked softly.

Madeleine looked at their touching knees, both covered in denim that might as well not exist, given how she seemed to feel the contact against her skin.

The pressure was warm, firm, because she and H?ra were close together on a bed.

“Um…think?”

“About the bed. Is it comfortable?” The mattress moved beneath Madeleine’s bottom as H?ra bounced on it again.

Their knees bumped some more.

“It seems fine,” Madeleine said, her mouth dry.

She couldn’t look up.

A pause. Then H?ra said, “What’s the matter?”

Oh, for heaven’s sake.

Madeleine had to do better than this.

She looked up to see a frown on H?ra’s face: a look Madeleine had long since learned to recognize as one of concern.

“Nothing,” she said, her breathless tone giving the lie to that.

“I guess we should get…”

“Something’s wrong,” H?ra said firmly.

“Was it something I did? You have to tell me, or I won’t know.”

Those eyes missed nothing, when they cared to look.

Amber-colored again, in this light.

Would they be the same color in H?ra’s horse form…

her real form? Madeleine still hadn’t found the courage to watch her transformation.

Too much, too hard, too real.

She said slowly, “When a human invites another one into a bedroom, sits on the bed, and asks the other human to join them, that’s usually…I mean, maybe not usually, but often …”

H?ra looked uncomprehending.

“I mean, that kind of invitation is...intimate. A lot of times it means you’re asking someone to—to have sex.”

Dear God.

Had those words just come out of her mouth?

Madeleine rose from the bed at once, even though her knees had grown no steadier in the past minute.

It was better than letting them brush up against H?ra’s.

Behind her, H?ra said quietly, “I didn’t know that.”

Madeleine’s face heated as she stared at the wall.

She really was ridiculous, clutching her pearls and worrying about her virtue.

“Of course not. Why would you?”

“You set boundaries with me.” H?ra’s voice was tight.

“I wouldn’t ask such a thing of you, even if I…”

Madeleine couldn’t turn around.

She couldn’t move, except for the hot throb of her heart in her chest. She croaked, “Even if you what?”

The bedsprings creaked.

H?ra was standing up.

Then her heat was behind Madeleine’s back, their bodies nearly touching, as close as they’d been in the tunnels of Skara Brae.

“I was going to say ‘even if I wanted to ask,’” H?ra said.

“But I don’t want to ask you for sex.”

If Madeleine’s face had been hot before, it was on fire now.

So was all the rest of her, burning with instant humiliation.

It looked like H?ra found her pearl-clutching exactly as ridiculous as it was.

Then, H?ra’s mouth was at Madeleine’s ear, her breath hot against Madeleine’s neck.

“I don’t like asking,” she whispered.

“It’s not my nature. My kind doesn’t ‘ask’ for what lies right before us.”

Her hands closed around Madeleine’s shoulders.

She didn’t grab or squeeze.

Rather, she held Madeleine with an easy grip that only served as a reminder of what she could do, if she chose.

At H?ra’s touch, Madeleine’s knees nearly buckled again.

She kept her balance but could not swallow a sharp gasp that H?ra surely heard.

Take me in your arms, she wanted to moan again, make me forget ?—

“You followed me into the bedroom,” H?ra growled.

“You accepted my intimate invitation .”

“I didn’t know!” How was Madeleine finding the air to speak, even if it was barely audible to her own ears?

“I wasn’t sure you meant it like—like?—”

“Like you would have, in my place?” For a moment, H?ra’s grip tightened.

“I see.”

“H-H?ra…”

“Are there any more human intimate invitations I should be aware of?”

There were thousands of them, but at the moment, Madeleine couldn’t think of a single one.

She couldn’t think of anything at all.

“I don’t know,” she choked.

“Nuns don’t do that.”

“You’re no longer a nun.” Now H?ra’s lips brushed the shell of Madeleine’s ear.

She smelled, again, the sea.

“So, Madeleine…”

If H?ra leaned in even a millimeter further, she’d be nuzzling Madeleine’s throat.

If Madeleine turned her head, their mouths would meet.

There was nobody here to stop them—to save them?—

Please, Madeleine thought, as her head began to turn, as her body began to melt.

Please …

“Do not put yourself in a position,” H?ra said, “when you think I might take, and hope that I won’t.”

She let Madeleine go.

Madeleine was left standing on shaking legs, with a desperate throb between them.

Her vision swam as if she were about to lose consciousness.

Would that be a bad thing?

The last time she had, H?ra had awakened her on the beach with a voracious kiss.

Madeleine would never make sense of her.

One moment, H?ra was a bright-eyed, inquisitive creature who seemed as if she couldn’t hurt a fly.

The next moment, she was all teeth and appetite, someone who’d spent nearly a century gliding through the waves toward her prey.

Her prey had probably never wanted to be caught before.

Madeleine brushed her fingertips against the little crucifix she wore.

It felt heavier than usual around her neck.

Behind her, H?ra said brusquely, “Let’s see Jonathan before we go to the village. He’ll have his fry-up ready.”

Ah.

Jonathan. Yes. Someone else, someone not H?ra, yes.

Blessedly, at the mention of an old man and his fry-up, her arousal began to cool.

She pulled her phone from her pocket with a shaking hand and checked the time.

It was nearly nine in the morning.

“This late?”

“He had a lie-in. He’s been tired this last week. Says he’s been having odd dreams and doesn’t sleep well.”

The worried note in H?ra’s voice made Madeleine turn her head.

H?ra’s expression, whatever it had been, was concerned again.

She frowned a little.

Then H?ra’s eyes snapped up, locking on to Madeleine’s once more like teeth closing around a throat.

“I’ve never dreamed,” she said.

Madeleine needed a moment to get her breath back.

“You’ve told me.”

“I don’t sleep, dream, or feel the cold. And…” H?ra’s eyes narrowed.

“I don’t ask.”

Without thinking, Madeleine touched her crucifix again and felt her pounding heart beneath.

“Remember that,” H?ra said, and stalked through the bedroom door.

The air was brisk, the wind sharp, and by the time she’d finished the walk from the cottage to Jonathan and H?ra’s flat, Madeleine was back to herself somewhat.

Whoever herself was these days.

At least it was someone who could smile at Jonathan when she and H?ra entered the kitchen and say, “Good morning.”

Jonathan looked up from the stove.

He didn’t seem like a man who’d been plagued with “odd dreams.” Rather, he had a big smile on his face.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully as he pushed bacon around in a frying pan.

The grease popped and hissed.

“All moved in, Madeleine?”

“Yes, not that there was much to move. Just my suitcase.”

H?ra opened the door of the fridge and bent down.

“She likes the new bed.”

Madeleine’s face flamed, but thankfully Jonathan was looking at the pan again.

He said, “Ah, good! Couldn’t see forcing a lady to sleep on Jim’s…well, never mind that. You’re going into the village?”

For a moment, Madeleine was unsure.

H?ra had said she’d go earlier, but she was clearly unhappy with Madeleine now.

Did that mean the trip was cancelled?

She could have slapped herself.

Was she planning to curtail a trip just because H?ra might not go with her for once?

That was ridiculous.

“Yes,” she said, her voice a little sharper than she meant it to be.

She cleared her throat.

“After breakfast. Thanks for inviting me.”

Jonathan grinned again.

“My pleasure. Sit down, sit down.”

H?ra put the cream on the table.

Jonathan laid generous amounts of bacon and fried bread onto two plates.

Madeleine couldn’t forbear a quick glance at H?ra, who sat down with no plate before her, just a cup of tea.

“Um, have you eaten?”

She and H?ra had shared a few meals now.

Enough for Madeleine to know that an Each - uisge didn’t prefer cooked meat.

It should have been disgusting, not fascinating, to watch H?ra dig into a raw sheep’s neck, but, well, there you were.

At least H?ra used utensils.

H?ra gave her a long look.

Then her lips twitched softly in a little smile, and she relaxed in her chair, sitting back and crossing her arms. “Haggis,” she said.

“Only without the suet and oatmeal. Or the onions. Or the boiling.”

“So you had a plate of raw sheep’s liver, heart, and lungs,” Jonathan said dryly.

H?ra never took her eyes from Madeleine’s.

“I’m a growing girl.”

If she wanted to fluster Madeleine, too bad.

H?ra had already set her off-balance enough for one morning.

Madeleine placed her napkin in her lap.

“That should hold you for a while, then.”

Before H?ra could reply, she bowed her head, said a quick, silent blessing, and crossed herself.

By now, after several meals at Jonathan’s house, neither H?ra nor Jonathan seemed awkward around Madeleine’s prayers.

In fact, when H?ra reached for the salt, she said casually, “I tried blessing my breakfast today too.”

Madeleine almost dropped her fork before she could start on her bacon.

“You did?”

“Yes. I said the same words you do, except I thanked the Great Stallion.”

Madeleine wasn’t used to this either: such casual references to a supernatural creature’s religion.

But surprisingly, it was getting a bit easier.

H?ra believed in things, and that was something they had in common.

Even if H?ra’s beliefs didn’t seem to dictate how she acted, which was something they didn’t have in common.

“What was it like to say a blessing?” Madeleine asked.

“I didn’t feel anything, but I’ve never thought a lot about the Stallion. Each-uisge don’t have as much to do with him. But he’s the one who made the land, and that’s where my food came from, so I had to thank him.” H?ra pursed her lips consideringly.

“I suppose on the nights we have fish, I should thank the Great Mare. Maybe that would feel more meaningful.”

“How did the Great Stallion make the land?” Madeleine asked, curious to know what kind of mythology a mythological creature lived by.

“Shat it out,” H?ra said promptly.

“And the Mare gave birth to the ocean.”

Jonathan groaned.

“Over breakfast and all?”

H?ra shrugged and sprinkled salt into her tea.

“She asked me.”

There was no denying that.

Madeleine chuckled. “So I did.”

“I didn’t.” Jonathan popped a piece of fatty bacon into his mouth.

“You need to eat less of that stuff,” H?ra said with a little frown.

“That nurse Sue Kilbright told you not as much salt, didn’t she?”

“That’s funny, coming from the one who puts salt in everything she drinks.”

“It’s not…” H?ra gave a quick glance at Madeleine.

“It’s not the same for me, you know that.”

Rather than looking chastened, Jonathan appeared pleased.

Every reminder of H?ra’s true nature, spoken in front of Madeleine, seemed to delight him.

The first time they’d all sat down to a meal together, after H?ra had told Madeleine the truth, he’d beamed.

His relief had seemed palpable, so intense it was almost joy.

Carrying that shared secret must have been nearly as hard on him as it had been on H?ra.

It was worth it to him, though.

Jonathan had spoken of his happiness that H?ra had come to him.

He’d wasted so many years, he’d said, but now he had a new lease on life, and wasn’t that grand?

Anyone could take a page from his book.

Madeleine had known what he was really saying.

Start over. Learn what I did.

It’s never too late.

They’d see about that.

For now, it was all Madeleine could do not to ogle H?ra’s long, lean body every chance she got.

That was more than enough to contend with.

Especially after her little slip a few minutes ago.

They had vowed to be friends, and only that.

They didn’t talk about where they might be going.

H?ra wasn’t one to look to the future, as she admitted herself, and when Madeleine tried to look at the road ahead, it went out of focus.

It was much easier to live day by day, spending time with H?ra and taking moments as they came.

Whatever Madeleine was supposed to learn from this would come to her when it was meant to—right?

Breakfast ended, and Madeleine insisted on helping Jonathan clean while H?ra went out to bring the Vauxhall around.

“Guests don’t wash up,” he objected as he set the bacon pan to soak.

Madeleine began to wash their coffee cups.

“Am I just a guest now?”

She glanced at him.

He looked back. Through the window over the sink, the rare morning sunlight landed on his face, turning his white beard whiter.

“I dunno what you are,” Jonathan said.

“But more than a guest, that’s true. You’re good for her. And I thank your God, or her Mare, or whatever, that you came.”

Madeleine dipped her head.

“So do I.”

“It’s been hard, though, hasn’t it?”

His look was full of compassion.

Madeleine still found herself unable to answer it beyond saying, “Yes.”

“We should talk,” he said.

“You and me.”

Jonathan and Madeleine hadn’t had a heart-to-heart yet, mostly because H?ra was always present.

Madeleine knew they’d both been wanting one.

Who else could understand the situation they’d both found themselves in: their human lives changed forever by an Each-uisge ?

But what would he say if he knew what she and H?ra had just gotten up to?

Madeleine still wasn’t clear on what he and H?ra were to each other.

Not biologically related, but they were kin.

They were protective of each other.

How would he feel about his…

friend?...having such a relationship with a human being?

A woman?

The Vauxhall rumbled and then came to a stop outside, reminding Madeleine why it was hard to find time alone with Jonathan.

They smiled wryly at each other.

“How are we going to manage that?” she asked.

“It’ll be easier now you’re living here. Come over tomorrow morning when the lass is out in the fields. And tonight…” He grinned.

“Tonight we’ll have a proper housewarming, the three of us, if you don’t mind an old man’s company.”

He must have been so lonely for so long.

Few would believe that Madeleine had felt the same way, since she’d spent decades in community with other women.

But there were different ways of being isolated, and she could recognize a kindred spirit.

“Of course I wouldn’t mind. That’s kind of you.”

“Well, tonight’s a good night. Slovakia are playing Iceland in the Euro, and I don’t care about that.”

Jonathan’s devotion to the European Football Championship mystified H?ra, but Madeleine had grown up watching the New Orleans Saints.

She understood not wanting to miss a big game.

“That’s lucky. What will this housewarming involve?”

“Ah, wait and see.” His eyes twinkled.

“But a fiddle might feature, so prepare yourself.”

The back door opened.

The Vauxhall rumbled beyond it as H?ra called, “Madeleine? Are you ready?”

Will I ever be?

“Ready,” Madeleine replied, and she gave Jonathan a smile as she headed for the door.

Outside, H?ra held the passenger door open for Madeleine.

The sun limned her dark hair and flashed off her smile.

“Ready,” Madeleine whispered again, only to herself, not at all sure it was true.