Page 12 of Snag
I smile at that, locking eyes with the young awry intently watching me approach. The purple in her eyes marking her as awry is more obvious today, even against thegray light. She manifested a lot of unanchored power last night, so I’m not surprised that it’s all settled close to the surface. “Yes. She is Precious.”
“I see that.” Gigi picks up her pace, jogging up the stairs to the patio ahead of me and grinning down at Presh. “Hello, darling. I’m Gigi.”
“Hi,” Presh says shyly, glancing over at me.
“Gigi and Coda are old friends,” I say, mounting the stairs.
“Yes,” Gigi says. “Friends.”
Though I’m not certain of my welcome, I open my arms to Presh. The young awry rushes the last few steps to me, grabbing me as hard as she can through the layer of blankets she’s swathed herself in, and pressing her face to my chest. Her pastel-rainbow hair is damp from a shower, the colors muted when wet.
Presh sobs, just once, then attempts to burrow into me further.
Holding back the emotion suddenly clogging my own throat, I meet Gigi’s worried gaze over the young awry’s head. “The kitchen is down the end of the hall,” I say, pleased that I sound sure and steady. “Just beyond the bathroom on the right. Will you put another log on the fire?”
“Already done,” Rath says, though not unkindly.
Gigi steps into the house without further invitation, giving us a moment.
I hold Presh tightly, angling my head enough to gaze up at Rath.
He stiffens as if expecting a chastisement. And I should give him one, for being on the property uninvited. But the revelations among Mack’s photographs press into my mind, as if the memories contained within them, printed in black and white, are slowly overwriting everything else that hasoccurred between adult Zaya and adult Rath. For the moment.
He’s larger and way harder hewn than the teen in the photos, though, presumably going through his last growth spurt when his celestial dragon manifested.
I have so many questions. Those at the top of the list are nebulous, and the rest … overwhelming.
Why didn’t Rath tell me he knew me?
Would I have believed him if he did?
“Have you seen Mack’s photographs?” I ask him quietly.
He tilts his head, glower deepening.
That’s obviously a no.
“Of us.”
His expression softens, just slightly. “Us?”
“Yes. All four of us. They’re in the second bedroom of the caretaker’s suite off the workshop.” I inhale unsteadily, tightening my hold on Presh. The young awry squeezes me back just as fiercely, angling her head to peek at her brother from within my embrace.
“All four of us …” Rath echoes a little hollowly.
“I’d like to bring them into the house so Coda and Gigi can feel free to claim the space.”
Rath nods stiffly. “I’ll get them for you.” He steps close enough to touch me, opening his palm to reveal a pair of my sunglasses.
Keeping my hold on Presh, I take the offered glasses. “Thank you.”
Rath palms the back of Presh’s head, towering over the both of us for a moment and holding my gaze.
I don’t put on the glasses, though the daylight is still too bright for me, even under the layer of cloud and the roof of the front patio.
Tilting his head thoughtfully, tension shifts through Rath’s jaw as if he wants to speak. But he simply shakes his head, then steps past us, shoulder lightly brushing against mine.
A gentle energy shifts between us under that point of contact. I don’t shove it away.
