Lord of Unkindness Ch. 23

 Notes: Happy reunion time! Let me give them this before we start shit again...

Title: Lord of Unkindness Ch. 23

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Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Ciro isn’t entirely sure how it happens, but a second after Annette says “hi” her arms are around him, wrapping his waist in warmth and a vaguely familiar sense of support that he hasn’t had in…years now. That was what hugging Annette always felt like, to him—like hugging family. She had been his fiancée, but their love was purely platonic, a sweet side-effect of the necessity of their togetherness. They’d been prepared to be friends, to be partners, to be family before his fucking family had messed it all up.

Ciro slowly wraps his arms around her shoulders, looking past her at where Angelo is just getting out of the car. His lover looks tired, but when he sees the two of them together a pleased smile crosses his handsome face. Ciro manages to smile back before he sees his fucking magic alight on Angelo’s shoulder. “Get it!” he shouts, but the damn bird takes off again before Angelo has a chance to do more than turn his head.

Angelo watches the bird fly off and says, “Wait. Was that…”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you let it outside?”

“It was fine very other time I let it outside!”

“Call it back!”

“You think I haven’t tried that already?” Ciro blinks when he realizes his arms are shaking—not because of anything he’s doing, but because Annette, who he’s still holding onto, is giggling helplessly. As she looks up, a warm weight twines itself around Ciro’s ankles before vanishing into the house.

He barely has time to catch sight of the large orange cat before Annette says, “I think it’ll be okay. Your magic knows what it’s doing.” She pulls back and looks at Ciro, really looks at him for a long moment. “Honey, you look like shit.”

Ciro starts to laugh. He can’t help it. Everything that’s happened to him over the past year has been so awful, by and large, and yet here he is: in a safe place, with the man he adores and the woman he thought was dead and gone, and both of them are looking at him like he’s a little crazy.

“What’s so funny?” Angelo asks as he comes up next to them, a Starbucks in one hand and his sunglasses in the other.

“I was just thinking that I clearly have a type,” Ciro says, and that gets a smile out of them. “Annette…” The emotions that surge in the wake of his relief and pleasure are less enjoyable, but he has to get them out. “I’m so fucking sorry. I know I said it before, but I don’t think you really heard it back then.” He picks her hands up and brings them to his mouth, kissing the backs of them. “I’m so, so sorry for what happened to you. For what Nephele did, and for what my family let her do. I should have pushed back against them sooner, I should have done something, I—”

“Oh honey, no.” She pulls her hands free just to wrap him up again, and this time Ciro can’t stop the tears that start to fall. Angelo is easing them inside and closing the door but all Ciro can do it hold on to Annette and try to be there for her as they fall apart together. “It was never your fault,” she says wetly. “I  always knew that. We could have been smarter, I knew Nephele hated me, but my parents didn’t want to risk offending your family by showing any less than our full strength. They wanted me to marry you more than they wanted me to be safe, and…they still don’t know I’m alive.” She shakes her head. “Only Jocelyn and Angelo know, before now. I wanted to tell you eventually, but I couldn’t while you were still with your family, and then you vanished and I feared the worst.”

“They wouldn’t kill me.”

“They’d do so much worse.”

She’s not wrong. They could go on like this for hours, hash out old grievances and commiserate over how truly fucked up their parents are, but Ciro doesn’t have the heart for it right now. Not when the music is playing at a quicker, happier pace because Angelo is back in the house, not when he’s already in the kitchen making coffee and food, not when Annette is here and safe and seems happy enough, even though she’s only got one familiar left, and—

“Shit.”

“What?”

Ciro sighs and recounts the story of how his magic took off this morning as Annette pulls him over to the couch, where her orange cat curls up in her lap once they sit down. Angelo brings coffee over for all of them, and by the end of the tale Angelo is grinning and Annette is swatting him for it, and Ciro feels more like a regular person than he can ever remember.

“Well, I don’t know why your familiar decided to take off,” Annette says, “but we can make this work. It’ll be harder when you don’t have a well of external magic to draw on right in front of you—” she pets her cat, who purrs with satisfaction “—but that’s how I started too.”

“I can go outside and look for it,” Angelo adds. “It might come to me again.”

“I bet it will.” It’s very evident to Ciro that his familiars have a soft spot for Angelo. It’s hardly surprising, seeing as he did too, but being down to a single manifestation of his magic was illuminating in a lot of ways. The way his magic favored Angelo when given the chance, the way it wanted to be around him and on him and with him—that was just what Ciro wanted to do but didn’t have the same excuse for, wasn’t it? He had to act like an independent adult when the more visceral, vital part of himself really just wanted to graft on to Angelo and not let go.

Letting go the first few times had been so fucking hard. Now that he’s let himself have this level of closeness, of intimacy, he isn’t sure he’s going to be able to give it up again.

Maybe I won’t have to. Maybe Ciro is right and we can make this all work out somehow in the end. Oh shit, speaking of things working out…

“Maria came by yesterday,” Ciro says, flushing with exasperation at himself for only now remembering her frantic visit.

Angelo blinks in surprise. “Really? She didn’t call me…what did she want?”

“I don’t know,” Ciro confesses. “I…didn’t actually open the door for her. I didn’t say anything, in fact. I’m sorry, I probably should have, but—”

“No.” Angelo is firm on that. “You did the right thing. She knows she’s supposed to call before coming here.”

“Maybe she tried and couldn’t get through,” Annette suggests.

“Maybe…” Angelo gets up and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll try her now.” He heads for the bedroom and closes it behind him. Ciro keeps watching the door until a gentle touch on his arm brings him out of his reverie.

Annette smiles sympathetically. “We don’t have a lot of time,” she says with a bit of regret. “I can’t stay away from home for long.”

“I’m sorry Angelo dragged you out here just to help me with magic problems,” Ciro says.

“I’m not sorry.” Her grip on him strengthens for a moment before she finally lets go. “Not at all. I’m grateful for the chance to be with you again, Ciro. More than I can say. Now.” She lets go and sits back. “Let’s talk about magic.”