Page 223 of Curse of Darkness
But perhaps he’s counting them out, for he merely stretches. “Fine. I’ll indulge you.Maybe I’m curious enough to grant you leeway. Do tell me…. What favor would you wish of me?”
“Can you find Eris?”
His lip curls and his gaze slides toward Finn. “What do you take me for? That sack of suet over there who could barely find his ass with his hands?Of course I can find her.”
“What did he just say to you?” Finn demands, because even though he’s not privy to our conversation—or Grimm’s part of it anyway—there’s a definitive sneer on the grimalkin’s furry face.
“He said he will find her,” I reply, meeting that implacable unblinking stare. “And he will keep her safe and provide company for her if she’s alone. Until she’s ready to return to us.”
“Night’s cold breath, Vi. I thought you liked Eris,” Finn protests. “You want to send this furry carpetbag to drive her to frustration?”
“He’s not going to irritate her.” My words are entirely for Grimm. “That would mean he reneges on his part of the bargain. He is going to be the soul of courtesy. Polite. Protective. And even a friend for her if need be.”
Grimm rolls his eyes. “I think I’m going to cough up a fur ball. Or no… maybe I’m just gagging.”
“Please, Grimsby.” This time, it’s Thalia who says the words. “I don’t want Eris to be cold and alone.”
Grimm freezes. “Thalia,” he warns. “Don’t you dare squeeze out a tear.”
“Please?” It’s a whisper.
For all his arrogance, he’s claimed Thalia as one of his own.
Grimm looks at me. Then back at her. Then his shoulders deflate. “You wretch. Fine. You win.”
Thalia grins and drags him into a hug. She winks at me over his shoulder as Grimm miaows in protest and pushes at her chest.
“You’re rumpling my fur.” He sighs as he looks at her. “I will find Eris, and I will treat her as if she was a kit of my own. And I will bring her back—when she is ready—whole and unharmed.”
With one last sniff, he bumps his head against Thalia’s calves and vanishes into a shadow.
“I’ll bet four hundred crowns that Eris is going to roast him alive,” Finn says, clapping his hands with glee.
Baylor laughs gruffly. “I’ll meet that bet—but I think she’s going to come back scratching his belly, and then you’re going to have to survive the insufferable little bastard’s smug purring for the next five hundred years.”
Finn pales.
Then he looks at me.
“Vi,” he groans.
I give him a kiss on the cheek. “If anyone can find her, it will be Grimm. Besides”—I tear a fragment off my own bread roll—“maybe he’ll keep your feet warm when you finally get her into bed.”
“Did I miss something?” Baylor does a doubletake.
“DidImiss something?” Lysander demands, leaning forward and looking at Finn.
Finn gives me a very rude gesture.
“Seriously, are all the males in this room blind?” Thalia throws her hands in the air.
And for the first time in a long time, my laughter feels free and easy.
This is home.
This is family.
And even if Thalia howls with laughter as a bread roll is lobbed in her direction and one of her demi-fey tries to tackle it—with disastrous results—I know this chaos is my happy ever after.
