Belle had asked the attendant to stop the carriage several blocks away from J Street, both so they wouldn’t know exactly where she was headed, and to keep them safer. 234 J Street was in a more dangerous part of the city, and Z’s opulent carriage was certain to tempt any thieves in the area. For only a beat, she considered suggesting Jac stay behind to protect the carriage, but she knew there was no use. Jac was not letting Belle go alone.

So the two women, hoods up and hammer hidden, swept down the street those last few blocks until they found 234 J Street. It was a dingy little inn, and the moment they stepped inside, Jac approached the innkeeper to ask for directions to room 15. It was the last room at the end of the hallway on the ground floor and—that warm nervousness along with frantic hope nearly lifted Belle off her toes when she caught sight of it. Because behind the door for room 15 were three magics, all of which she recognized.

She dashed forward, ignoring Jac’s hissed, “Belle!” and nearly fell against the door. She had raised her hand to knock softly, but already Daivad’s magic was approaching the door. He’d heard her. The door opened slowly, and Daivad’s icy eyes peered down at her from just under the top of the doorway.

Beaming, Belle stuttered a mess of broken words for a good three seconds before Daivad finally stepped back and gestured for the women to enter. In the far right corner of the room, Pait sat on the floor, knees tucked up in front of her. And on the bed behind Daivad, lying on his back in a pile of shredded sheets and loose feathers, limbs in all directions, dead asleep—was Kitten.

“Oh my fucking Mother,” said Jac as Belle rushed forward.

She snatched the little beast up, squealing in Xo, telling him how much she loved him and how worried she had been and how sorry she was that she hadn’t found him sooner. She smooched his nose and rubbed his belly and tried not to cry. None of this woke him.

While Belle reunited with an unconscious Kitten, Jac took the whole scene in, still stunned. Her shoulders visibly loosened at the sight of Pait, safe and sound, watching Belle with a bewildered expression and making a point not to look at Jac.

“You alright, kid?”

“I’m not a kid,” she protested without tearing her gaze from Belle.

“Uh-huh.” Jac grunted and shifted her weight to one hip. Then she sent a side-glance (a side-and-up glance) at Daivad’s unreadable expression and asked, “How?”

But either Daivad didn’t hear her, didn’t realize she was speaking to him, or was ignoring her because he just continued to watch Belle. She punched his arm and he flinched like a big fucking baby and shot her a look somewhere between confusion and offense.

“How?” she repeated.

Those dark lashes narrowed around his bright eyes and he seemed for a moment to consider not answering her as retaliation for her small violence (or perhaps her more significant violence from this morning). But eventually he said, “Tracked the kid down.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“You tracked one kid through an entire city, wearing those massive shoulders and that busted face, and not one guard stopped you?”

He shrugged a shoulder. She raised a threatening fist. So he rolled his eyes and said, “Half the guard is out looking for me outside the city, the other half is trying to clean up. No one expected me to come back.”

“Where’s Ben?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“On his way home.”

“You sure he’s good to make the trip?” Jac narrowed her eyes at him.

Daivad returned the look. “He’s tough.”

Jac sucked her teeth, but didn’t argue. Ben was tough—he had more than proved that last night.

Belle finally looked up, swiping a hand over her cheeks with the ragdolled Kitten clutched to her chest, and started to speak to Pait. It took until she noticed Pait shooting Daivad alarmed looks for Belle to realize she’d been speaking Xo.

“Ah, sorry.” Belle shook her head. “Are you alright?”

Pait shifted uncomfortably in her skin. “Fine.”

“You’re following him?”

Her brown eyes darted around the room like even her gaze was trying to avoid the question. She shrugged thin shoulders, then ruffled the short hair on the top of her head so it stuck straight up. “I guess.”

Belle nodded, then faced Daivad, beaming eyes brimming with tears as she looked up at him. He’d managed to clean himself up a bit—at the very least, his hair was tied back again and his face was free of blood and grime. She noticed an old scar on the right side of his jaw, cutting a pale line through the dark scruff. Had that always been there?

She smiled at him, and she watched the iridescent galaxies across his midnight-sky magic swirl and dance. She stepped forward, a moment from grabbing him into a one-armed hug—but then remembered. If she returned to Z’s house with more Daivad-scent on her, Z would lose their fucking mind. So she had to settle for a simple, “Thank you, Daivad.”

His magic roiled, but all he did was nod once. No—his face also flushed slightly. It was cute.

“You have a way to get back beyond the walls?” she asked, and he seemed relieved to switch to a less emotional subject.

“Yeah. You have a way to take care of that thing?” He gestured at the still-sleeping Kitten with one hand, drawing Belle’s attention to the very clear bite mark across his hand that hadn’t been there this morning—or maybe it had. She’s only just noticed the scar on his face after all, and that looked several years old.

“Did he bite you?” Belle asked.

“It’s nothing,” he grunted, but she grabbed his massive hand in both of hers (tucking the flopping Kitten under one arm) and pulled it to her face to examine it. It would be nothing to wash his scent from her hands. Daivad froze like she was a wild animal he’d stumbled across and the slightest movement would either make her run or attack.

The wounds weren’t deep—at least, she couldn’t see muscle or bone. The bleeding had already stopped, but beast bites, night or day, were notorious for causing infection. Belle knew that Daivad practiced at least basic healing magic, and Kadie was skilled enough that if she got her hands on Daivad’s, this likely wouldn’t even scar. But Belle traced some runes over his hand anyway and watched her magic wrap a warm blush around his.

Daivad drew in a breath and for a moment Belle thought she’d hurt him, but she could see her magic swirling through his, knew it was working. It should feel pleasant, either slightly warm or slightly cool depending on what the particular wound needed, but not painful. Perhaps she was just hyper-aware of him right now and that was how he always breathed.

Dry, Jac asked, “So, should the kid and I leave, or…?”

“Not a kid.”

Belle blinked at Jac. “Why?”

In lieu of an answer, Jac said, “Do you know what you’re going to do with him?” and tipped her head at Kitten.

For a beat after Belle released Daivad’s hand, it still hung there in the air before he finally dropped it back to his side. Belle made a kind of wobbling motion with her head and said, “I’ve … got an idea.”

A grimace twisted Jac’s face, and she opened her mouth to argue, but Belle headed her off.

“I’ll be alright.”

The two women shared a long look, where Jac very clearly told Belle she thought this was a terrible idea and there was no way it would end well, and began to list all of the awful things that might happen to Kitten or Belle as a result of trying to take him home to Broken Earth with them—and Belle very clearly replied that she knew all of that, and she would be alright. Jac’s golden gaze fell away first, a begrudging acquiescence.

From the corner, Pait mumbled, “I name all y’all Freaks.”