by Sam Burns
She seated herself across from Devon and Wade. The woman herself gave an impression much like her house; like she came from a different era than the rest of the world. Devon had never seen her in anything but a dress, and always one long enough to brush the floor. She also always looked like the outfit she was wearing was worth more than Devon’s whole wardrobe. Usually, he had the impression that she was judging his posture, but too well-mannered to say anything.
Finally, she asked, “Something is troubling you?”
He looked to the window, where the sky seemed to be darkening by the hour. It looked like twilight, not nine in the morning. “There’s something wrong with the weather. Or with me. We’re not sure.”
Wade wrapped an arm around him and squeezed. “Devon’s been seeing these clouds in the sky for more than a week.”
For a fraction of a second, Madame looked surprised. He thought it was her equivalent of outright gaping. “I see. You’ve seen clouds over town for a week now? And just like these?”
Devon nodded glumly. “Yeah. Not as bad as now, but I guess now they’re real. I’ve been hallucinating clouds. This is messed up.”
“On the contrary, I should say it was a warning.” She put her index finger to her lips and looked out the window. “Unfortunately, one we wouldn’t have known what to do with, even if we had realized that you saw something different from everyone else.”
That perked Devon up. He’d been filled with a growing worry that he should have said something, even if it made him feel like an idiot to make small talk about the weather. He’d wondered if they could have fixed it if he’d done something.
She shook her head and looked back to them. As if she’d read his mind, she answered his burning question. “We’ll never know for certain, but I cannot imagine that our actions would have been substantially different a week ago than they will be now. We would have had more time, but not more information. It does seem important. You are connected to Rowan Harbor in a way the rest of us are not, not even your grandmother.”
Devon wanted to protest, but he was beginning to suspect it was true. He’d asked Gran once about the dreams he had, of the blackbird and the tapestry of Rowan Harbor, and she’d seemed more confused than anything else. He was sure, now, that the dreams were a manifestation of reality.
Every person in Rowan Harbor had dozens of threads that connected them to their friends, enemies, loved ones, and goals. Andrei Volkov had a thread that led to the diner, which he wanted to own someday. Madame Cormier had a thread stretched far to the south—her friendship with his grandmother in Acapulco. Devon himself had a sickly gray thread that connected him to Helena MacKenzie, who disliked him. In his dreams, as a bird soaring over the town, Devon could see how everyone and everything in Rowan Harbor was connected. He knew the town, and he worked to fix problems in it.
“Siobhan was born here, but something about her has always been apart,” Madame Cormier continued. “Her mother was the same, even though she was one of the town founders. Rose loved the Harbor, but she wasn’t of the Harbor. You were born here, Devon, of parents who were also born here, and you are the first of Rose’s line to mix with human blood.”
Devon swallowed hard. Madame Cormier knew that his mother hadn’t had a father but was the product of fae parthenogenesis. Wade looked confused but didn’t interrupt. “So my powers are different from Gran’s because I’m half human? That doesn’t seem right. Shouldn’t I just be less powerful?”
She laughed. “You think human blood should make you less powerful? Humans are the natural inhabitants of this plane. Fae are less powerful when they come here because they are connected to the place where they belong. You are both fae and natural to the earth. Your mother and grandmother could ignore their abilities because they aren’t half human and will always be slightly disconnected from this world. So they aren’t as connected to Rowan Harbor. It’s why you came home. You belong here.”
Devon slumped against the back of the sofa.
Chouchou jumped back onto the seat next to him, rested his head on Devon’s thigh, and purred. It was nice. Devon ran a hand down his silky back and tried to center his thoughts. “So this is why my abilities are so different from Gran’s. My dad, he was actually—” His voice broke, and he realized how much that affected him. He’d wanted it to be true, but he’d wondered since his grandmother had told him that his mother didn’t have a father at all.
Madame Cormier seemed to read his thoughts again. “Oh yes. You’re every bit Joseph Murphy’s son, physically as well as spiritually.”
Devon let out a sigh and nodded. “Thank you.”
She gave a tiny smile but covered it quickly. “Don’t thank me, dear. Thank your parents, underage drinking, and some sort of high school sporting event.”
Wade practically guffawed, the big jerk. It was a little funny though. Devon had to take a moment to cover his own amusement.
“But the clouds?” he asked. He hated to bring down the mood, but the threatening clouds had been making him nervous for a week. He thought it was about time everyone else was nervous too.
She looked back to the sky and gave a short nod. “I’ll look into it. I’m quite certain it’s another manifestation of your abilities.”
“He also seems to be getting a, uh, cold,” Wade said, enunciating the word “cold” as though it had some deeper meaning.
Madame Cormier actually seemed to find that interesting. “Are you?” she asked. “Do you get them regularly?”
Devon shook his head. “Not really. Five or six times that I remember. Mostly when I’m stressed, like when Mom was going through a divorce, or when we moved to a new district in the middle of the school year. I figured that was normal.”
She nodded. “I shall see what I can scry on that as well. Will you keep Oak and Mr. Hunter informed? I will speak to Mr. Smith, of course.” In what seemed the most unlikely friendship of all time, Madame Cormier was close to the vampire on the town council. Max looked like an aging punk, with three days’ salt-and-pepper scruff, tattered jeans, and a well-worn leather jacket. Seeing him interact with the dignified lady was wild, but she was one of the few people he was always nice to.
“Yeah, of course,” Devon agreed. “Need to keep the council up to date on things that affect town security, right.”
Devon cursed himself for not saying anything to anyone before. He should have at least told his best friend. Jesse was going to kick his ass when he found out that Devon might have been, however accidentally, keeping something from him.
They said their goodbyes, and Wade preceded him out to the squad car. They were quiet as they rode back into town. Devon was waiting for Wade to ask about his father, but he should have known better. Wade didn’t want to ask; he didn’t want Devon to tell him anything if he didn’t want to.
When they were about halfway back to the yarn store, he sighed. “Apparently fae don’t need to make babies the old-fashioned way.”
Wade nodded. He didn’t look at all surprised or bothered. “Makes as much sense as anything. Also explains the old town gossip about who your grandfather was.”
“I wasn’t sure. I mean, I knew about Gran, but that wasn’t my business to tell anyone. I didn’t know about—about me.”
Wade took one hand off the steering wheel and squeezed Devon’s knee. “You don’t have to carry this stuff alone, Devon. That’s what I’m here for.”
Devon didn’t know what to say to that, so they sat in silence for the rest of the ride, Wade’s hand on him strong and grounding.
Finally, as Wade was pulling into a space in front of the store, he asked, “You want me to tell Jesse about the storm?”
“No way. He’s already going to be annoyed with me for not telling him, even if I just thought it was weird weather.” Devon kissed his cheek before opening the door and climbing out. He turned back and leaned in the open passenger-side window. “Besides, you need to get to work. I’ll call Salli and see if she’ll come in for me, so I can drag Jes
se out to see Oak.”
Wade’s lips quirked up in a tiny smirk. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” He glanced up at the shop window and then back at Devon.
Devon turned to look in the same direction, where Salli stood in the front window, in the process of flipping the sign to “open.”
“Looks like you’re in trouble with the boss,” Wade told him.
He sighed and nodded. “I better go face the music.”
Wade nodded back and put the car in reverse. “I’ll see you tonight. Be careful.”
“I will.”
The cruiser pulled out and paused on the street. “Devon?” Wade asked through the open window.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Without giving Devon a chance to respond, he drove off. Devon stared at the retreating car until it turned the corner.
“You going to stand there all day?” Salli asked from the door.
He nodded. “Maybe.”
“Is the end of the world upon us?” She asked it as though she meant it. There was a hint of worry in the normally unflappable siren’s voice.
He turned, looked at her, took a deep breath, and hoped that the right thing came out. She looked tensed for a blow. “No.” Devon’s breath came out in a whoosh, and it looked like Salli sighed in relief too. “We’re being overdramatic, aren’t we?”
She shrugged. “You didn’t open the store, weren’t in your apartment, and showed up at nine-thirty looking stressed, after what was supposed to be a sweet Valentine’s with your boyfriend. I dunno about you, but I’m still nervous.”
Devon motioned to the sky.
“Storm coming?”
Devon shivered and nodded.
She cocked her head. “You said yesterday it was going to snow, and it hasn’t yet. It must be a bad one. I don’t know how your ability works”—she held up a hand to forestall his answer—“Yes, I know, you don’t either. But my people have seers. They’re very rare, but the consensus seems to be that the further into the future you see, the more important the event is. If you see snow, it might be a light snow this afternoon, a storm tomorrow, or a blizzard next week.”
Devon sighed. “I started seeing the clouds more than a week ago.”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh shit.”
“Yeah. I need to call Jesse, and we need to go see Oak. Sorry I didn’t open, but I didn’t realize—I thought everyone saw the damn clouds. I thought it was just February!” He threw up his hands and marched into the shop, Salli following along.
“I dropped by to pick up something I left in the kitchen,” she told him as they headed for the counter. “You hadn’t opened, so I figured something was wrong. There was no answer at your door or on your phone, so I thought I’d open and wait to see when you got back.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t answer. We went to visit Madame Cormier. I, uh, always turn my phone off before I go see her. Haven’t turned it back on yet.” He pulled it out of his pocket and powered it up as he spoke.
She laughed and hopped up onto her stool behind the counter. “Yeah, you don’t want Madame Cormier thinking you’re rude. No one wants to be on her bad side.”
He snorted at that. “No kidding. She’s the only member of the council I think is scary, including the ancient vampire. He couldn’t turn me into a toad. Is that rude?”
“Why would it be? She could turn you into a toad.”
His phone chimed to let him know he had two voicemails. One was from Salli, the call she’d already told him about, and one was from Jesse. He didn’t bother listening to the message, just hit the button to call him back.
“You okay, D?” Jesse asked the instant he answered. “I drove by the shop and you weren’t open, so I worried. Please don’t tell me if my brother tired you out and you just overslept. Please, please don’t tell me that. If that’s it, lie to me. Tell me you slipped on a banana peel and gave yourself another concussion. It’ll be code for having sex with my brother.”
“Well, in that case—” He paused, dragging out the silence. “You know I can’t lie like that, Jesse. But it’s okay, because that’s not it, anyway. No bananas were involved in my being late.” Salli raised an eyebrow at him, and he rolled his eyes. “But I do need to talk to you. It’s council business, I guess.”
“I’ll be right there.” Jesse hung up without waiting for a response.
That was kind of the way it worked with them. As much as Jesse had wanted the town to make his brother the council member, and although Wade was Devon’s theoretical soul mate—Devon had to stifle a shiver at the memory of Wade saying he loved him—he and Jesse got each other. They didn’t even need words to communicate half the time. Maybe destiny was real, and that was it. Devon’s life was destined to be intertwined with the whole Hunter family.
He could imagine worse fates.
“Does Madame Cormier think it’s a magical threat or something?” Salli asked when he hung up the phone.
He slid it back into his pocket and leaned on the counter. “She doesn’t know. None of us do. There’s something wrong, but we don’t know what.”
Salli gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry. Can’t say I wish I were in your shoes, though. I’d rather work on my day off than have to deal with threats against the town.”
“Me too, Salli. I so wish I were working right now.”
“I’ll make tea,” she announced, and headed for the employee kitchen. His gran had trained Salli in the art of making things better. For several knitters who frequented the shop, Salli had taken Gran’s place as much as Devon had, and they dropped by to share their troubles with her. She would never admit it because it would be too close to being happy Gran had left, but Devon thought it pleased her.
Most people seemed to enjoy being needed.
Devon just wasn’t sure about himself. He loved Rowan Harbor. He didn’t have any real desire to leave. But not wanting to leave was different from not wanting the option to leave.
He’d been thrust into position as the head of the town council, taken over the day-to-day that Salli didn’t already do at his grandmother’s shop, and moved into the apartment above it. Mayor Cormier—the only lawyer in town—had informed him that his grandmother had transferred legal ownership of the shop to him.
For the first time in a life of drifting, he had roots. Sometimes it was nice, having a place he belonged and people he belonged with. Most of the time, even. But sometimes he woke in the night gasping, convinced that he was trapped and those roots were dragging him into the earth. Yes, those were the nights Wade worked, or wasn’t around for other reasons. That just meant he didn’t kick his boyfriend when he flailed his way into consciousness in the middle of the night. A small gift, he thought.
“What’s wrong?” Salli asked, handing him a mug of tea.
Without conscious thought, he answered. “Wade said he loves me.”
They stared at each other for a moment, blinking.
“You tricked me,” he said, scowling at her. He took a swig of tea, which was still way too hot for that, and scalded his tongue. “You know what’s wrong. There’s a storm coming, and the town’s in danger. Why would you ask that?”
She leaned back against the counter and looked at him, blowing on the surface of her own tea. After what seemed to be eternity, she shrugged. “Sounds to me like there are other things that need discussing. I can’t do anything about a storm, or magical danger, unless I can sing it into complacency. But if my friend is having a relationship freak-out, I can help with that.”
“I’m fine.” He glared his tea into submission, sending a mental demand that it be the right temperature for drinking. When he took a sip, it was tepid. Great. Yeah, he was an amazingly powerful fae, who couldn’t even make tea the right temperature. Finally, he looked back up at her and sighed. “It’s stupid, right? He’s a great boyfriend, and I’m happy, and it’s weird that I’m freaking out.”
She looked surprised. “That’s interesting. You can tel
l the truth all the time and still be totally wrong. It’s not weird that you’re freaking out.” She reached out with one small foot and nudged his shin. “You and I have a lot in common, you know. We both spent a lot of time wandering before we found home. I’ve been here for years, and I still sometimes get the urge to grab my stuff and go.”
Fear flashed through him. “But you wouldn’t—”
“Don’t be an ass, Devon. No, I’m not going to leave. I wouldn’t do that to you, or any of my friends. But it doesn’t mean I don’t feel the itch sometimes. To just get in my car and drive, you know?”
He put his mug down on the counter and leaned against it beside her. “Yeah, I know. Just take Stinger and drive. I could be in San Diego in a couple days. It’s gorgeous there. No evil magic storm clouds.”
Salli looked out the window at the sky. “I don’t think it’s magic. I mean, I could be wrong, but it doesn’t feel magic. It just feels like any spring blizzard. Maybe your powers are telling you something bad is going to happen in it, like we’ll be snowed in for weeks or something. We’ll have to arrange for people to check on everyone who doesn’t have a close neighbor.”
“If that’s all it is, I’ll be one happy fae.”
The bell over the door gave its little electronic jingle, and Jesse asked, “If what’s all what is?” as he came through the door.
Devon put up a hand and shook his head. “Nope. I’m not explaining this twice. Let’s go see Oak, and I’ll tell you both.” He turned to Salli. “I’m really sorry to ask you to work on your day off—”
She waved him away. “Town business and safety takes precedence. Besides, I get more days off now than I did with your grandmother when she was dating. Go on, you two. Make us safe.”
“I hope so,” Devon agreed.
Jesse, unlike his brother, did not possess the patience of the ages. “So,” he started as soon as they got into his SUV. “Not going to tell me anything? Not even a hint?”
“How are you my best friend?” Devon asked him. “You’re such a jerk.”
