Which he now only ever does when ordered. We’re all a little broken. We all have things we don’t want to remember – or to come alive right before our eyes.
The map is almost like a three-dimensional model, drawn to scale and angle to look so much more than a flat image – but no matter which angle I stand at, there is still no spring on it, and nowhere I would suspect a spring to be hiding either. Springs don’t exist in trees, or cliffs, or underground, it’s just unheard of. Not without there being a cave or tunnel to access it – and there isn’t.
It simply doesn’t exist.
Seth stands and rolls his shoulders, cracking his neck loudly.
“I can’t make him see what isn’t there,” he mutters, dropping the chalk. “I’m going to take a shower. Showers are good for thinking.”
Five Paces
“Eat,” Killian orders, shoving more bread in my direction.
Then the man goes rummaging through the cupboards, producing a small sack of mixed nuts and seeds, several brown paper bags of dried meats, and two really big bags of popped corn.
Screw the bread. I shove it back at him and lean forward, almost to the point of falling off the bench, to grab the popcorn.
“Got any cinnamon?” I ask, pulling the cords free and shoving my hand into the fluffy kernels. “And where’d this come from?”
“The twins went into town for supplies, and I think Aria popped it while you were training with Rose. Why cinnamon?”
I don’t reply because my mouth is full.
“Cinnamon tastes awesome on popcorn,” I mumble, my mouth mostly still full, and still shoving more in.
He looks confused, so I climb off the bench and start hunting through the overhead cupboards – that’s where I’d keep my spices and seasonings anyway, and the little bunches of drying rosemary and thyme kind of hint that Eydis and I would think alike on this one. Bingo, third jar in, crushed cinnamon. A little sprinkle in the bag and a good shake, then I turn to Killian and offer him some.
He hesitates.
“What? You don’t like it when food tastes good?”
Which would make sense why the guy keeps offering me dry bread. Even for one of Martin’s Soot-servants, that’s a little bland.
“Open your mouth,” I tell him, pulling a kernel from the bag.
He clenches his jaw, so I step closer.
“Rose taught me some awesome ball moves. Killian, open your mouth, or I’ll use them,” I threaten, taking another step.
He almost smiles, then holds his hand out. But I’m committed now, and I take the last step into his space, holding the popcorn up to his mouth.
“Open,” I order.
I can see it’s not part of his normal behavior by the tension in his shoulders and the draw of his brow, so it actually surprises me that he does open his mouth. I settle the kernel on his tongue and have no hope of smothering my smile as he rolls it around his mouth, chews, and swallows.
“Okay.”
“What do you mean okay?”
“It’s okay.”
“Killian, it’s chucking amazing. Eat more until you’re convinced and agree with me,” I growl at him, shoving the bag right up under his nose.
“What’s going on?” Seth asks, surprising the crap out of me.
He’s rubbing a towel through his wet hair, a fresh black cotton shirt on, as he joins us in the kitchen.
“Killian doesn’t like popcorn,” I say.
“Of course he does, he ordered Rynn to buy it.”
“What?! Killian, you ass,” I snap, slapping the mountain on the shoulder. “Not nice. Not nice at all.”
I snatch my bag back, ignoring the big guy’s grin, and walk over to Seth.
“I never said I didn’t like popcorn. Just cinnamon on popcorn.”
“Cinnamon?” Seth asks, pure shock in his voice.
Okay, we didn’t do popcorn very often at the Manor, but it was one of our few pleasures. The kernels are easy to store, last years, and it’s quite filling and goes a long way once popped. The cinnamon was the real treat. And I’m honestly sick of these guys being so shocked about that.
I grab a handful and throw it at Seth.
“Cinnamon,” I shout.
He catches a few in his mouth, the rest falling to the floor, and chews thoughtfully.
“More?” he asks, opening his mouth.
My sour mood dissolves. One at a time I toss popcorn at him, and he catches them, beaming at me the whole time. He takes steps forward, and it's not long before he’s right in front of me. His hands on my hips. Mouth full. Grinning like a crazy person.
And lifting me off the ground.
“Seth,” I squeal, barely saving the bag of popcorn from being squished between us.
He spins me around, finally settling me on the bench. For a few long seconds we’re close, my legs split either side of him, his hands still firm on my waist, and his brilliant blue eyes alight as he swallows and licks his lips.
“Tastes almost as good as you,” he says softly.
In the background Killian grunts, which I have no translation for.
Just as I start looking at Seth’s lips and considering if it’s bad to kiss him with his brother right there – the Darkness brother, which is somehow different to Roarke – someone knocks on the door.
The front door that no one has ever knocked on. It’s so random that we all just kind of lean out and watch to see what’s going to happen next. I’m on the arm of the bench, the bit that sticks out from the wall, and leaning back involves some serious balancing.
The knock comes again, and since neither of the other two are moving, I call out, “Come in.” My voice betrays my confusion.
“Enter,” Killian booms.
The door opens, and Aria walks in – the FaunaSeed with big brown eyes from Rose’s triune.
She hauls a pretty damn big basket of fruit into the kitchen and puts it down in the sink.
I shove my last piece of popcorn in my mouth as she bows, then makes a quick retreat toward the
