Wings and Shadowthief by May Sage

The Home of Chaos

Jack wasn’t one to need more than five hours of sleep per night, but it turned out not sleeping at all wasn’t something his brain approved of.

Mental exhaustion was getting to him. His body didn’t physically need the sleep—the Salem amulet was doing the trick in that respect—but he found it hard to concentrate on just about anything, and his short-term memory was shot.

What had Gwen sent him out for, again?

He had to admit their shopping trip had been fun, though it was equally frustrating.

Jack could see a lot of himself in Gwen, but he was only scratching the surface. There were issues with her self-confidence, her sense of worth, that didn’t make sense to him. A badass witch such as her ought to feel and act like she owned the world, like mere mortals should bow to her. But she didn’t. She buried herself under layers of shame and worries. Something, or someone, had clipped her wings. After their discussion in the car, Jack was starting to understand that it might have something to do with her home, her coven.

What was it that William had said? A coven helps itself. Hers might have seen benefits to keeping her docile.

He didn’t like it one bit.

“Where’s the litter?”

Litter. That was it.

He winced. “Sorry, I got sidetracked.”

He’d stopped in front of the toy section. Jack grabbed the first object on a nearby shelf—a plushie—and held it up. “We need this, right?”

Gwen shook her head. “The kitten’s a few days old. Its eyes are still shut. It can’t play yet—especially with catnip toys.”

“It’ll grow soon enough. Unless you plan on making our trip into town a regular thing, we might as well stock up.”

“Not the worst idea,” she admitted with palpable reluctance.

She hated when he was right. Jack grinned.

“But this one’s boring.” Gwen picked another plushie, one in the shape of rabbit.

Jack shook his head. “No way. I bet you anything the cat’s going to prefer a fish to a boring old rabbit.”

“Well, too bad, because I’m the one with Blair’s credit card, and I picked the rabbit.”

Jack chuckled. “Cute of you to assume I don’t have my own cash to spend.”

He was loaded, because he barely ever spent any money. His gear, food and lodging, and his bullets were paid for by the huntsmen. His salary was collecting dust in an account. Not to mention that the Hunters had invested wisely through the ages. And Rakiel, when bored, liked to play with the stock market. Jack had been given an ever-growing trust fund when he’d turned twenty-one. He could afford a damn catnip toy if he felt like it.

“Fine. Waste it on your boring old fish.”

She was so easy to rile up.

“I will, thank you, gorgeous.”

Jack practically fed on Gwen’s glares, loving the heat of her anger. He was so deep under her skin.

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“Just stating the obvious. Hi, I’m Jack. You’re gorgeous.”

“How will you help me wipe the evidence, when you’re the one I’m going to murder?”

He chuckled. “I guess we’ll find out. Right. Litter. See you at the checkout.”

A three-hour round trip later, they were driving up Night Hill to the third gated property from the base of the hill—Stormhale’s plot.

Where there used to be one flat-roofed Grecian mansion, there now stood four smaller houses, and a great hall meant to entertain visitors behind it.

He parked in front of the first of those houses, the largest one, as Bash sat on the new building’s steps.

Though smaller than the old manor, this house was just as luxurious. The south wall was a window, though from the outside, he couldn’t see anything going on inside. The other walls were supported by black marble arches and jade columns. Flanking an imposing door were two statues of what appeared to be deities, Zeus, or perhaps Jupiter, on one side and someone equally pompous on the other.

The building was gaudy and gorgeous all at once.

Out of the car, Jack hugged his old friend briefly. “Did Cat send you out to help unload?”

“I don’t want to spend more time in this house than necessary.” Bash grimaced. “It’s Seth’s.”

Jack could have guessed as much.

Bash, just like about ninety percent of people who ever met him, couldn’t stand Seth Stormhale.

“Why didn’t you guys use your house?”

Bash and Cat’s new house, right behind Seth’s, was a white three-story home, without columns, domes, or stained glass imported from Italy.

“Seth’s house is almost finished. He even has some furniture. If Blair is supposed to feed the kitten every hour, she might as well have a sofa to sit on.”

“And you hope the cat will destroy Seth’s fancy furniture,” Gwen guessed.

Bash grinned. “Maybe.”

Jack should have taken one of Huntsmen’s vehicles rather than his convertible—Gwen had traveled with a bed on her lap and a litter tray under her feet—but they’d managed to get everything a kitten possibly needed. They unloaded the car, entering the imposing house.

Jack was surprised to find the interior considerably less gaudy than he would have thought—though of course, Seth wasn’t done decorating. All the walls were painted black, with gold accents.

“Over here!” They followed Cat’s voice to a sitting room with several armchairs—all black—presided over by an enormous magenta chesterfield.

Blair sat with crossed legs on it, the kitten cocooned against her.

“We have a name!” she announced cheerfully. “Velvet.”

“Because he peed on the velvet sofa,” Cat clarified, snorting. “I can’t wait to tell Seth.”

She didn’t communicate often with her brother, who was still infiltrating Aveka’s island for them.

“I love it,” Gwen proclaimed. “I think we got everything. The formula needs hot water. Do you have electricity for a kettle here?”

“Not yet, but I’ll make sure the electrician comes this week,” Cat promised. “In the meantime, someone with vampire speed can always go fetch some from Skyhall.”

Jack approached Blair to get a closer look at the little thing that had caused so much commotion. He grinned at its tiny face. “You’re set on Velvet? He looks like a warrior, if I’ve ever seen one. And he’s already mocking a demi-god.”

“No one has ever mocked me and lived.”

Jack hadn’t so much as heard or felt anyone arrive, but indeed, Seth Stomhale stood in the entryway, regal as usual, in a black tailcoat that might have been fashionable two or three centuries ago.

Jack stood straighter, nodding to the owner of the house.

Seth didn’t pay him any mind, the weight of his storm-blue eyes on Blair’s lap.

He sauntered the length of the room and slowly knelt.

The posture seemed awkward, as though it might have been the first time he adopted it.

His face on the cat’s level, he broke into the kind of smile that Jack hadn’t thought him capable of. The kind that reached his eyes—and his heart, if he had one.

“What have we here?”

“He peed on your stuff,” Blair blurted out.

“I can get more stuff,” Seth replied smoothly.

“How are you here?” Cat asked, half happy to see him, but also visibly worried.

“I was dining with Aveka. I informed her someone had entered my home—I could feel the intrusion. She encouraged me to find out who would offer such an affront.”

With reluctance, Seth straightened his spine and moved to his sister’s side.

Jack watched as they awkwardly took each other’s measure, as if unsure how to proceed.

Catherine finally got to her tiptoes to reach his cheeks and pressed her lips against one, then the other. “It’s good to see you. How are you, is everything fine on the island?”

“I gorge on blood, beauty, and beastly behavior. I’ve never been better.” He smiled and this time, it was nothing like the smile he’d given the kitten. “Especially since I’ve completed my task. I know how to get to the island uninvited.”