Copper Veins(77)

Mom dropped to her knees and crawled before the prisoner. She stopped just outside the pool of fey light, staring at him.

“Just get it over with,” the prisoner rasped. “But don’t ask me anything. I won’t tell you anything about them.”

“About who?” Mom asked. “Who do you think I’ll ask you about?”

He made a dry, rattling sound meant to be a laugh. “Learned a new trick, did you? Learned how to imitate my wife’s voice? It won’t work.”

“Beau.”

“Won’t work.”

“Beau.” Mom closed the distance between them and she whispered something I couldn’t quite make out.

“Maeve?” he asked. She tilted his head upward, but he kept his eyes closed.

“Beau, look at me.”

“If I open my eyes and it’s not you, it will kill me,” he rasped. Mom kissed him then, full on the lips, and stroked his cheek.

“It’s me, Beau,” she whispered. “Tá sé dom, do bhean chéile, do Bealtaine blossom. Mé chaill tú.”

Dad uttered one of those soundless laughs. “Not nearly as much as I’ve missed her.”

“So, have a look at me, then.”

Dad—real Dad—opened his eyes and saw his wife for the first time in sixteen years. Based on the look he gave her, he hadn’t lost one iota of love for her. Dad reached up and gathered Mom against his chest, burying his face in her golden hair. “I always knew you’d come for me,” he murmured as they held each other. “I always knew that, if I was strong enough, if I could just hold on long enough, you would find me.”

Mom laughed, that sound we’d heard so rarely since he’d gone to war. “Of course, leave it to me to rescue your arse.”

A rumble in Dad’s chest. “Of course.”

Micah kissed my forehead, then he tugged me toward the cell door. “Come, love,” he murmured. “Let us bring your father home.”

Micah, Max, and Sadie entered the cell and set about getting Dad out of his plastic chains. I would have followed, but I saw Juliana trying to creep away down the corridor.

“Where are you going?” I demanded.

“You’re bringing your father home,” she said, staring at the floor. “I should go.”

“Where can you go?” I countered. When she didn’t respond, I moved to stand directly in front of her. “Come on, Juliana, it’s me. Answer.”

When Juliana met my eyes, I had my answer. Her despondent, somewhat hopeless expression told me everything I needed to know—since she’d helped us, she had nowhere to go. I recalled something Not-Dad had said, that Corbeaus always paid their debts, and realized that he had gotten at least one thing right.

“Come back to the manor,” I said. “You can stay there with us.”

Juliana shook her head. “No, it’s not my place. I don’t belong there.”

“You helped me rescue Max and you just helped us find our father,” I listed. “I can’t think of any other place you should be.”

My family stepped out of the cell, Mom plastered to Dad’s side while Max supported him with an arm around his shoulders. “Sara,” Dad said, then Mom made room as Dad pulled me into his arms.

“I missed you so much,” I said, fighting tears.

“Missed you, too,” Dad said as he rubbed my back.

I drew back, and Dad saw Juliana behind me. “Dad, this is Juliana. She helped us find you today, and she’s going to be staying with us. At the manor.” I glanced from Max to Micah, ready to defend my decision if either of them had a problem with it. Turned out I didn’t have to.

“All right,” Micah said with a nod. “To the manor, then.”





32


We got back to the manor just after dawn. After Dad bathed and got his hair and beard under control, we all gathered in the front sitting room. I know Dad and Mom—and Micah and I, for that matter—really should have been carving out some alone time, but this was the first time in years our entire family had been together, and we wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible. Luckily, Micah understood.

“Of course you want to be with your family,” Micah had murmured as we settled onto the vine couch. “I would give almost anything to be reunited with mine.”

“What wouldn’t you give?” I asked, because I couldn’t imagine anything more important than my family’s safety.

“You,” he replied, pressing a kiss to my temple.

I kissed his chin. “I guess I’d rather not give you up, either.”

Micah grinned at that and pulled me into his arms. I rested against his chest, then smiled again as I looked around the room. Dad and Mom were sitting on the floor directly before the hearth, arms tightly wrapped around each other as if they were physically anchoring themselves together. Sadie and Max were sitting in front of them, listening to Dad tell his war stories. The copper-haired man before me looked and acted so much like my Dad of memory that I couldn’t believe that any of us had ever fallen for a shapeshifter’s ruse.