Wolves at the Door - Lidiya Foxglove Page 0,72

own sweat—and looked at me with a smile that did seem like it had grown warmer in recent years.

“I didn’t know you were coming with them!” I exclaimed.

“Someone had to drive,” he said. “I thought I’d surprise you.” He shook my hand.

Jake and Jasper were giving us weird looks as they were walking out behind me. Harris noticed them and then looked at me.

“Did you tell them something unfavorable about me?” he asked in an undertone.

“No. They think it’s weird that we don’t hug, I think.”

“Should we?”

“I guess we could.”

“Good lord,” Jake said, watching us try to tentatively back pat at the same time.

“We just don’t hug much!” I said. “I’m sorry!”

“Well, I know you know how to hug,” Jasper said, putting an arm around me. He offered Harris a hand. “So you’re the famous brother, huh?”

“I am.” Harris shook back and Jasper pulled us both into a hug and gave Harris a robust back slap.

“Like that,” he said.

“I guess you’re Jake.”

Jasper snarled. “No! I’m Jasper! I guess Hel told you that Jake is the fun one.”

“I actually said Jake is the obnoxious one, but you’re right. You really do trade off.”

Graham had bypassed us to greet the faeries. Five of them were emerging from the van like pilgrims stepping nervously off the Mayflower. Four were men, one was a woman. For a moment I thought they were all together, but Harris said,

“The faery queen sent five heads of household who have earned her favor but don’t have their own domains,” Harris said. “If any one of them is interested, we’ll discuss further and they’ll want to find a human wife or husband. They’re all, uh, pretty high born…”

I might not have had twin radar with Harris, but we certainly were close enough that I could read between the lines. The faery queen wanted to send this group because she considered this a privilege, but they were not even remotely prepared to live in Louisiana. Not a single one of them.

“Oh…well…great!” If this didn’t go well, I was going to take to bed myself. Out of embarrassment. This was all my grand plan. “Well, this is Greenwood Manor. It was constructed about one hundred and seventy years ago—”

“So, a young house,” one of the men said. He had red hair and was wearing a blue tunic, and like all of them, would definitely need a major lesson in cultural assimilation.

“Yes, yes. A nice, new, young house.”

“This region looks fertile, but the house does occasionally suffer from floods, does it not?” another one of them said. We’ll call him “Silver Staff” because that’s what he was carrying.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I mean, I did look at the flood maps but it seemed to be only in the hundred year flood plain, so not often. The property fronts water but it is pretty far from the house.”

“It will flood more,” Silver Staff declared. “The earth is sick.”

“I worry not about such matters,” the woman said. She had a very thick accent that sounded vaguely Irish. “I am skilled at water craft.”

Graham was looking at them and me like, What the hell is this?

“Well, let me tell you, if you’re skilled at water craft, you’re going to love Louisiana,” I said. “The entire state has a lot of water for magical usage as well as recreation. It’s a hot spot for magic in the Fixed Plane in general, and this house is wonderfully situated with a lot of different terrain on the acreage. So let me give you a tour…”

Gaston and Billie were sitting on the new porch furniture. Billie was saying, “And that was when Mama yelled, ‘I told you not to put that armadillo on that trampoline!’”

Someday I would have to find out how these stories began.

Gaston chuckled in an indifferent way and said, “Bonjour, future neighbors, eh?”

“Oh…neighbors?” Silver Staff said.

“I live down the river a bit, in the cabin, with the horses,” Gaston said.

“Way down there,” Graham said, waving into the distance, because the faeries clearly didn’t see Gaston as a positive.

I brought up the rear and stopped to slap the table where Gaston had his ash tray and empty glass of lunch blood. “I thought we agreed last night that you’re okay with selling this house and you’re not going to cause any trouble?”

“How did I cause any trouble? I’m being very charming. Who doesn’t want me as a neighbor? They’ll feel as if they live in Burgundy.”

“Oh, please,” I growled.

“Of course I want someone to buy it.