Heart's Price (MxM)

Chapter 29

"So, which one of your relatives is obsessed with cats?" Dane asks.

It's the following day, and he and Julian have met us for breakfast at a little café close to Mattie Macleod's house, which is our next stop. Dane has just finished examining the postcard and listening as Ambrose explains—in thankfully vague terms—why he thinks I may be in danger.

"No clue," Ambrose answers. "I think my mother had a cat, but I don't recall that she was particularly obsessed with it."

Dane leans back in his chair—a precarious move, as it looks hardly strong enough to hold his weight—and turns the card over in his hands.

"Alright, so let me see if I have this straight," he says. "Rowan Oakfield and Aengus Thorne were bros back in the day. Rowan married Mattie Macleod, and Aengus married Mattie's sister, Rosie. Rosie and Aengus had a son—Jack. Then Rosie died, and Aengus married Rowan's daughter, Lillian, who'd be Jack's, what... cousin? But Aengus was Jack's father, and—at least as far as the wider world is concerned—he's your father too, which makes you Jack's brother."

His brows are scrunched so close they almost meet by the time he finishes, fingers kneading the sides of his head.

"That's about the way of it." Ambrose nods, reaching across the table to steal a piece of my toast, having already finished his own.

Dane notes the motion, a frown on his lips.

"So, what happened to Rosie, anyway?" he asks. "How'd she die?"

"That's Mattie's tale to tell," Ambrose answers, "hence our double date."

He winks across the table at Julian, who looks much closer to his normal self, thanks to the Fae tea. He's still attracting stares, but is no longer obviously inhuman, at least.

"You seem to be feeling better, fair Fae," Ambrose comments with a slight smirk. "Has your...trouble...resolved itself, then?"

Julian casts a sharp glance at me, but Dane cuts in before he can speak, reaching over to rub the back of Julian's neck.

"Yeah," he says. "Must be one of those 'Fae things' that comes an' goes—hopefully not very often," he adds with a frown.

"Must be," I agree, not meeting his eyes.

Ambrose raises a brow, but says nothing, instead reaching over to steal the last strawberry from my fruit salad—which I happen to have been saving, because it looked especially delicious.

Whatever protest I might have made is cut off as the waitress comes by to refill our coffees, and Julian promptly dumps half the pitcher of cream into his.

"Jesus, Julian," Dane mutters. "Why bother with the coffee at all? Just order a mug of cream next time."

"That would be weird," Julian replies, sipping his extremely creamy coffee.

"Yeah, and drinking coffee that's more cream than coffee is totally normal," Dane returns.

"The Fae are known for their fondness of fresh cream," Ambrose says. "You ought to ask those girls with the little farm to invest in a milk-cow. Could come in handy," he adds with a wink, "down the road, you know."

Julian narrows his eyes at me, and I very slightly shake my head. As usual, Ambrose sounds like he knows more than he should, but I hope Julian trusts me at least enough to know that it's not my fault if he does.

"Well, let's get this over with," Dane says, signaling for the check and seemingly oblivious to the little drama playing out between the rest of us. "Ms. Macleod's agreed to give us half an hour of her time—not graciously, I might add—and I got the impression we shouldn't keep her waiting."