Read Ever After (Rachel Morgan) for Free Online Page B

might have something to do with it, but I think he admired her grit.
    “Your dad s-s-says to get outs-s-side,” she lisped around her long teeth, her face turned upright at the noisy battle. “You shame your-s-s-selves!” With a disgusted snarl, she smacked Rex’s flank as she purred and rubbed against me, hoping for a fallen morsel. “Get out!” she yelled at them. “Now!”
    My head was exploding from their noise, but about half of them started for the hallway, flying backward and still shooting popcorn kernels at each other with slingshots. Someone shrieked when a seed punched through her wing, and the shouted threats got serious as the girls sided against the boys. There was a sharp ping when a seed hit my biggest spell pot and ricocheted into me, making my eyes narrow. Jenks was giving them a lot of latitude, knowing that as soon as it warmed up, half of them were going to leave to make homes for themselves.
    “All right, you lot!” Jenks shouted as he flew into the kitchen, a faint red dust of annoyance spilling from him. “You heard Belle. Get out before I bend your wings backward! If you’re cold, put on the long johns Belle made you, but I want you outside clearing the lines! Jumoke, get your sister a patch. You made it, you fix it. Do it nicely or you’re going to do midnight sentry with Bis no matter how cold it is!”
    I tossed my paper towel, exchanging a weary look with Belle as they flowed out of the kitchen with a chorus of complaints, going across the hall and up the flue in the back living room by the sound of it. Jumoke, Jenks’s only dark-haired son, helped the pixy with the hole in her wing, stoically taking the verbal abuse the eight-year-old pixy was heaping on him. She’d probably be on her own next year, fully grown and ready to start a family. Why Jumoke hadn’t left yet was obvious. Black-haired pixies were often killed on sight by their own kind. He, at least, would be staying.
    Belle nudged Rex into motion, and she followed them out. It was too cold for fairies, but if she was sitting on Rex, she’d be okay. The cat door squeaked, and Jenks flew a red-dusted path to the kitchen spigot, where he could watch the garden and his kids dispersing into the damp spring night. His hands were on his hips and his feet were spread wide, but he seemed more worried about Jax than the noise.
    Belle’s touch was showing in surprising places, and Jenks wasn’t looking so much like Peter Pan these days. He still had the tights and garden sword at his hip that he used to chase off birds, but his usual green gardening coat had been replaced by a flashy multicolored jacket with tails and a dark orange vest. Belle’s work. With the hunter-green shirt, it made a striking statement with his curly blond hair, trim physique, skintight boots and tights, and that narrow waist and wide shoulders. His dragonfly-like wings blurred to nothing as he watched the dusty glows from his grown children in the garden. Though his feet never lifted off, the noise of his wings increased when the cat-size shadow of Bis joined them; then he relaxed.
    “Thanks,” I said in relief as I took my sandwich to the table. “They don’t listen to me.”
    Jenks frowned as he flew over the center counter, spilling a sour green dust on the cheese and making it glow briefly. “They don’t listen to me, either.”
    It was a not-so-subtle reminder of Jax. Nick’s sudden appearance had us both in a stellar mood. Uptight, I shifted to try to make the dress feel more comfortable, finally sitting sideways to the table in the hard-backed chair. My clutch purse and shawl were at Ivy’s empty spot, trying to make it look less . . . empty.
    Suddenly Nick didn’t seem so important, and depressed, I leaned sideways over the table as I took a bite of my sandwich, trying not to get any of it on my dress. The coffeemaker on the counter gurgled its last, but I didn’t bother to get up. Jenks descended from the utensil rack, using his sword