I do want to hear it, Stacy thought but didn’t say when pink tinged Rowan’s cheeks. She wondered if she was more interested in the “enemies” part or the “lovers.” Rowan had once boasted of pleasing many ladies. Was Kiera one? Stacy realized Miles might be part of this equation, too.
Boy, do I have news for Amy when she gets home, Stacy thought as Rowan gestured toward the dining room. “Shall we? Food is ready.”
Miles offered his arm to Kiera with a saucy grin. She rolled her eyes but took it. The pair ambled into the adjoining room while Stacy remained behind with Rowan. She gave him the look.
“What?” he demanded.
“What was that about?”
“Kiera will say anything.”
Stacy chuckled. “Hopefully, she’ll tell me everything.”
“Be careful with her. She bites.”
“Do you like it when she bites?”
Rowan’s cheeks flamed, and Stacy laughed. He shoved a plate of rolls into her hand, demanding she take them into the dining room. “I like them already,” Stacy told him as she strode across the kitchen. Rowan followed her with a platter of pot roast and cooked vegetables. The aroma made Stacy’s mouth water.
“Don’t speak too soon,” Rowan muttered. “And be careful what you say about one to the other. Those two care for each other deep down, but they fight like brother and sister.”
So they weren’t the lovers, then, Stacy thought, her mouth twitching into a smile that Rowan scowled at.
Rowan had decked out the dining room with rows of flickering candles and the best tableware—items Stacy hadn’t even been aware were in her house. Rowan sat to the right of the head of the table and motioned for Stacy to take the head.
She hesitated. It had not been her first instinct to sit there, but remembering she was mistress of the house and the final decider on whether Kiera and Miles worked here, she sat. Kiera and Miles sat side by side across from Rowan.
They dished their food, and Rowan served them wine while Stacy asked idle questions about their journey. She had taken her first bite when she asked, “I must know if you truly want to work here or if Rowan has somehow coerced you into coming against your wishes.” Her eyes sparkled with enough mirth to tell Rowan she was only pulling his leg.
Even so, he glowered.
Miles chuckled. “I’ve wanted to see the house Rowan has holed himself up in the past twenty-five years. I like what I see so far, and I’d be honored to help the grounds.”
Kiera’s mouth tugged into a slight smile as she deftly cut her meat and swirled it in gravy. “Rowan and I go far back. I owe him for…some past favors. I figured working at this old house would be a pleasant way to repay that.”
Rowan stiffened, and Stacy’s curiosity about the history between the trio intensified. “And what roles would you expect to take on?” she asked.
Rowan stepped in to answer. “Miles will be our groundskeeper and elemental defender.”
Stacy arched a brow. “You’re going to have to clarify that second part.”
“My kind are known as elemental wardens,” Miles spoke up. “We’re sort of like mages, but our magic is directly tied to the natural elements. Mine centers around earth magic.”
“Making you a perfect groundskeeper,” Stacy added.
Miles nodded. “I won’t only be pulling weeds and tending to roses. My job will involve grounds security. The wards here are stable, but there’s no better protection than what already belongs here.”
Stacy remembered the first time she stepped foot past the iron gate. The trees had reacted as guardians. She supposed Miles would work with them to make the place more secure. Good. She would rest easier knowing Rowan wasn’t being spread thin by handling security.
Stacy slid her attention to Kiera, who rattled off a list of duties Rowan expected her to encompass. “I’ll be housekeeper, estate ambassador, clandestine protector, and perhaps most importantly, chef. Rowan may make an excellent pot roast, but he has nothing on me.”
“I’ll admit she’s right.” Rowan’s fond gaze at Kiera had Stacy nearly blushing.
She understood housekeeper and estate ambassador, though she wasn’t sure she’d need the second one. She wondered about “clandestine protector” but then became distracted when Kiera tucked her hair behind her ear. Her unusually long, pointed ear.
Stacy gasped. “You’re a…”
“Sidhe fae, yes,” Kiera finished.
“Rare, ain’t she?” Miles chortled.
Kiera shot him a look full of daggers.
“She is rare,” Rowan spoke up. “Around here, anyway. Unlike us.” He gestured at himself, Stacy, and Miles. “We hide in plain sight, in the countryside and cities. Kiera’s kind doesn’t live among us.”
Kiera’s eyes darkened at Rowan’s words, and Stacy could have sworn a touch of sadness entered her expression. The sidhe fae directed her attention to her plate. Miles chortled. “We all know you wouldn’t survive one day in a city, Rowan.”
The dryad scowled. “Neither would you. I think you were born in the dirt.”
“Where do you come from?” Stacy asked Kiera.
The woman managed to smile. “Another world,” Kiera replied. “Though I haven’t been there in a long, long time.” There it was again. That touch of distant sadness in her voice and her eyes.
How long? Stacy wondered, but Kiera didn’t seem to want to talk about it.
She would have no shortage of mystery while these people were here. Their house would consist of a human, a witch-dragon shifter-to-be, a warden, a sidhe fae, and a dryad. What an interesting bunch they would become.
“We want to know about you,” Miles announced before Stacy could ask another question. “We know you’re Catherine Thorn’s daughter and a witch. We can safely assume you are also the Red Dragon’s daughter.”
