“Exactly like the pirate. Let’s all go to the living room and get comfortable.”
“I might need to sit down,” said Catriona, moving toward Sean. She bumped his hip with her own.
“You’re not going to question or not whether that’s really Luther?” she whispered.
Sean glanced at Luther. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“No, but we saw him dead.”
Sean smiled. “The man traveled through time to bring me back from Scotland. Why would I question that he could come back from the dead?”
“But so soon?”
“You came back.”
“I came back as a baby,” hissed Catriona, trying not to attract Luther’s attention. “I had to start all over again when I was killed.”
Sean shrugged. “Maybe he’s better at it.”
Catriona sighed. “Fine. I give up. You and Broch believe it. I’m outnumbered. And I want to believe it, too.”
Sean put his arm around her shoulder. “This day is really picking up. Luther’s back and you’re admitting you’re wrong about something.”
“Very funny.”
They gathered in the great room. Broch stared up at the tall ceilings as they entered, so mesmerized by the space he clipped his hip on the edge of a white sofa, knocking it out of alignment with its mate.
“’Tis anly ye twa here?” he asked.
Anne nodded and Catriona looked at her. “You understood that?”
Anne grinned. “I’m more familiar with accents like that than you’d think. I’m Irish, though I’ve lost most of my own accent over the years.”
Sean wandered to a collection of photos in frames scattered along a marble sofa table, picking up one to study it. “This is Chuck Irons’ place.” He pointed the photo toward them, and Catriona recognized the A-list actor standing with a top director.
“You know Chuck Irons?” he asked Anne.
“He’s a friend of a friend.” Anne motioned to the large white u-shaped sofa. “Why don’t you all sit down while I catch Sean up.”
Sean set the photo back in its place and moved to sit.
Jeffrey reappeared with a tray full of ice teas and they each took one. Catriona stared grimly at hers. The little buzz she’d garnered from their Mexican fandango had worn off and she wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with the rest of the information. After all, it was probably mostly the sangria that had made any of it sound plausible.
“Thank you, Jeffrey,” said Anne.
He bowed deeply and backed out of the room. “My only wish is to serve.”
Anne rolled her eyes and looked at Catriona. “He gets worse every year.”
Catriona chuckled and experienced a flash of what felt like pride. Anne had singled her out to share a joke.
Get it together, Cat. Act like you’ve been here.
Did she have a bit of a girl crush going on?
Anne cleared her throat. “I’m going to keep this as short as possible—”
“Is this fresh peach in here?” asked Luther, staring into his glass of tea.
Anne’s face fell slack. “I don’t know.”
“It does taste like peach, doesn’t it?” said Sean.
“Aye. Ah didnae ken whit is was, dae ye speak of that sweet fruity taste?”
Luther nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah. At first I thought it was just—”
“Jeffrey, is there peach in the tea?” called Anne. Catriona thought she looked a little exasperated.
“What’s that?” asked Jeffrey pulling an earbud from his head as he appeared at the threshold of the hallway Catriona guessed led to the kitchen.
“Is there peach in the tea?” she repeated at normal pitch.
“Nectarine. Fresh, crushed nectarine.”
“Nectarine,” echoed Luther. “I don’t know if I woulda have guessed.”
Anne clapped her hands together. “Well, I’m glad I could clear up that mystery. Can we get back to the monsters coming to destroy your city, way of life and entire future?”
Luther nodded. “Yup. Apologies.”
“Alright. Like I mentioned before, you all—with the exception of you Luther, who’s moved on—”
“Moved on?” Sean looked puzzled.
“I’m an angel now,” said Luther, beaming.
“So you are dead?”
Anne stomped her foot. “In the name of Boudica’s bodice will you all let me get through this thing?”
Sean lifted his palms in submission. “Sorry.” He leaned toward Luther to whisper something and Luther released a low chuckle, shaking his head.
Anne took a deep breath and released it. “Okay. As I was saying at the lunch you missed, Sean...” She emphasized his name loudly enough that he stopped giggling with Luther and straightened. “Thank you. You’re all Kairos. You travel from place to place, sometimes from time to time, inspiring good in the people around you. You may not know you’re doing it, but it happens anyway.”
“What was that word?” asked Sean. “Do you have a pen? I feel like I should be taking notes...”
“Kairos,” repeated Catriona.
“How do you spell that?”
“K-A-I-R-O-S.” Anne tilted her head, squinting. “I think.” She mouthed through the letters again. “I think that’s right.”
Sean felt his chest. “I wish I had a pen.”
“Put it in your phone,” suggested Catriona.
Sean pointed at her. “Good idea.”
Anne rubbed her temples. “We think some of you have been falling ill.”
“To the thing you said the angles got?” asked Catriona.
“Yes. Perfidia.”
“Do you mean some of us?” asked Sean, making a circle motion with his finger to encompass the people in the room.
“No. Some of the Kairos, but not this specific group. Not that we know.”
“Howfur would we ken?” asked Broch.
“Yeah, do we get like a rash or something so we know?” asked Sean.
“No, there’s no rash.” Anne took a beat and seemed to reconsider. “I mean, your skin starts to rot if it’s the same strain the angels had, but that takes eons.”
Catriona raised the right corner of her lip. “Ew.”
“Ew is right.” Anne continued. “Anyway, this affliction makes you act opposite to your nature. So whereas you currently inspire
