He’d done that in front of his allies. For her. . . .

Thad had also told Jo he wanted to help Regin and the others rebuild Val Hall, explaining, “The Vertas is more than just Nïx. Besides, she isn’t even there. She told everyone she was taking a vacation for a while.”

Jo had tried to make light. “Vertas, Møriør. Hey, let’s let the freaks work this out in the schoolyard on their own.”

“Regin and the others didn’t know you’re my sister. Nïx told them you’re a hardcore Møriør here to unleash monsters and enslave us all.”

Nïx, you bitch, that’s how rumors get started. Then Jo had frowned. I did have strong Møriør leanings.

Because I fell in love with one.

After that day, she and Thad never talked about Rune specifically. She tried to hide how badly she yearned for the dark fey, but didn’t know if she was fooling anyone.

Rune had once told her Darach Lyka could find anything in the worlds; Thad hadn’t traced Jo too far from Val Hall. Rune had to know where she was. She’d thought nothing could keep a Lorean from his mate, yet he’d never contacted her.

She figured he must have returned to Tenebrous with the other Møriør. Even if he’d headed back to Earth directly, the journey would take a while.

Not that she would ever resume things with him. But it would be nice to return his talisman, get her bullet necklace back, and find some closure.

Was closure possible between mates?

Anything is possible in the Lore! she thought bitterly.

Hanging out with her brother was the only thing that could have kept her distracted. Over the last week, she and Thad had laughed. They’d watched movies. They’d swum. Jo had demonstrated how to ghost into shells and go fully invisible.

Soon she would show him how to delineate one’s territory and protect it—and how to crush fight-stealing pimps.

If Jo had been a feral cat at the beginning of the week, the Braydens might have domesticated her a scoch. For Thad, Jo had been making the effort to get along.

The first day, he’d awakened her abruptly. “JOOOO!” he’d yelled from downstairs. “Breakfast is ready!”

She’d shot upright in bed, disoriented because she’d never had a wakeup call before and had barely slept. She’d dreaded dreams of Rune, hadn’t wanted to see any more of his past when she couldn’t handle his present.

Bleary-eyed, she’d gotten dressed, snagged the talisman she’d set on the nightstand, then stomped downstairs into the kitchen. “What the fuck is this, Private Benjamin?”

Gram had been there along with MizB and Thad. Oops.

MizB had told the woman, “Ma, I want you to meet—”

Gram had already shuffled over to Jo. Before Jo could hiss, the woman had kissed her forehead. “Hello, child.” Then she’d shuffled back to the stove, all no-big-deal.

Over breakfast, MizB had asked if they had any plans.

Jo had rocked her chair back, balancing on two legs. “I was thinking about teaching ole Thad here how to roll drug dealers for coke-dusted cash. Maybe pummel some pimps. Don’t they give Eagle Scout badges for shit like that?”

MizB had swallowed helplessly.

Hey, she’d invited Jo here. Let the right one in, MizB.

The woman had asked them to take out the freaking garbage first, then had the nerve to call, “Make good choices. . . .”

Day two, Gram had implemented a cuss jar. She’d tapped it while giving Jo a speaking glance.

Seriously?

When Jo brought over more clothes, MizB had mended all of them, even the ones that were supposed to be ripped. But Jo had bitten her tongue.

Both MizB and Gram continued to cook, MizB “just in case,” so Jo pushed food around a plate when the family sat down for meals. She helped with dishes she’d never needed in the first place, wishing she had a rune for the chore.

Atop the mantel were two new framed pictures of Jo and Thad. Jo liked them because both had her giving the camera the bird, with her lips poised to say “Fuck off.”

She went to bed at four, and never missed breakfast.

It isn’t so bad here. She stared at Rune’s talisman, sleep overtaking her. Except for missing him. . . .

At last, the week had come to a close.

As Rune had done each day, he traced from the carriage house into Josephine’s room the moment she’d drifted off. But this time, he would remain until she woke.

The late night sky was thick with black clouds and thunder rumbled, but she slumbered on.

Sound sleeping was a vulnerability. He’d meant to help break her of that, but then he’d realized he’d always be there to watch over her.

He did so now, pulling up a chair beside her bed. He picked up the talisman from her bedstand, turning it in his hand over and over as his gaze lingered on her features. Her thick lashes, her finely-boned face. The gentle bow of her lips. The mouth that spoke so candidly and pressed against his flesh so ardently.

Though only seven days separated them and he’d always been close, Rune had missed her till his mind was wrong and his chest constantly pained him.

As Josephine had done as a ghost, he’d haunted the Braydens’ home. No one from the Vertas had disturbed them. In fact, only one Lorean had tried to visit—Natalya, the dark fey.

Josephine likely wouldn’t have welcomed her, so he’d traced to intercept the female.

Natalya was definitely of his species, with her plum-colored eyes, black claws, and the telltale pointed ears. She’d been yanking on a cap when he’d stopped her.