My aunt brushed a hand over my mother's forehead to gently push the locks of hair, golden like wheat, away from her bright green eyes.

"I'm fine, really," my mother said, trying not to wince. "I mean, sure my spine might be fractured, my ankle is broken as well as my arm, and this finger." She gingerly twisted her wrist and presented her middle finger, broken badly and snapped to the side.

"Mom just flipped you off," I snickered, jabbing Caidan in the ribs. He shirked aside and burst into a cackling laugh that joined mine and filled the foyer.

She blinked. "Pardon?" Then her eyes thinned as she put it together.

Both of us cut short our laughter and tried for studious, repentant expressions, suddenly interested in everything else in the entranceway than our mother.

"I just need a moment to lie here and mend," she said to reassure my aunt. "You know..." She looked upward toward the vaulted ceiling, her lips slightly curled into her mouth, as a shudder of pain racked her body. "I've never seen the foyer from this view before. It really is quite a majestic home." Aunt Valarie ran soothing strokes up and down my mother's arm. My mother returned a small grateful smile before looking at me. "Are you set for tomorrow, Gray?"

I was to go with my father to the office. Which wasn't an office like the rest of the mortals knew it as. I was to accompany him to House Novak's estate. House Novak was our Upper House. We were in liege to them and oversaw the crime lords, cartels, and syndicates that sold our magic-infused drugs. Tomorrow was a sort of bring-your-kid-to-work-day. I was excited but also apprehensive to be entering the world of Horned Gods for the very first time.

"Weapons bag packed," I replied, shifting Ferne to my hip and widening my stance.

"Suit?"

I screwed up my face. "No fucking way—"

"Gray! You know how I feel about that kind of vulgar language. You're on dishes duty for the week," my mother shot back whip-smart.

No fucking way! So fucking unfair!

I cocked a brow. "How come Dad gets away with it?"

"Trust me, he doesn't—"

"He never seems to be put on dishes duty," I grumbled, batting away Ferne's hands as she pinched my eyebrow, pulling the skin taut. Dishes duty was a punishment that my mother liked to deal out to each of us when we crossed her line. There was a shitload of dishes to be done every single day, and it sucked ass to be put on it.

"No, he has his...own punishment dealt out." Her mouth twitched and I saw a glitter of amusement in her eyes which kind of made me feel like Dad didn't receive the same sort of punishment we did. "And I'm not raising your father. I'm raising you. You are representing our House, therefore you will be wearing a suit."

I heaved a sigh, trying a different tactic. "How about a halfway deal? Jeans—"

"A full suit, Gray."

"GAH, Mom!"

A flash of annoyance had me huffing a breath through my nose. Then, as Ferne started tugging at my messy hair, pulling hard enough my scalp stung, I realized all I need to do was change out of my suit after my mother last saw me...and she'd never know. "Sure, Mom, whatever, a full suit."

My mother continued to stare at me, long and hard, as if she were trying to figure out if I'd easily given in too easily—hellsgate, I sure did, Mom—but was distracted by my aunt when she glanced up the wide and grand staircase and began to say, "H-h-h-h-h—"

My mother reached out and took Aunt Valarie's hand, gently squeezing.

Aunt Valarie took a deep breath, her body relaxing as she took her time, thinking through what she wanted to say. "H-h-how..."— a pause, a breath—"f-far...d-did you fall?"

"Pretty much all the way down. I tripped over something that shouldn't have been there."

In the corner of my eye, I saw Caidan still. He'd gone up the staircase to collect the wicker basket, along with my mother's gardening gloves, and was picking up all the strewn flowers and broken foliage that littered the steps.

My aunt's features darkened and her mouth parted as if she were going to speak, but my mother carried on talking, changing subjects. "I've got a few things to do tomorrow in Ascendria." She raised her broken arm, now completely healed, and wiggled her fingers. I noticed her pale complexion had bloomed with color and her gaze lost the haze of pain that had shadowed her bright eyes. Smiling up at my aunt, she said, "You're welcome to come along too, Valarie."

My aunt rarely left the estate. She was warm and vibrant, but when the Houses gathered she was a quiet soul, kept to herself, and rarely spoke to others. The embarrassment of her stutter stopped her from experiencing life, which was a fucking shame.

She took a breath and rubbed her lips together. A line formed between her eyebrows as she concentrated and relaxed enough to push the words out fully formed. "Are you meeting Marissa?"

Marissa was one of my mother's best friends since childhood. She was married to Byron Wychthorn from Great House Wychthorn who oversaw all the Upper and Lower Houses for the Horned Gods—the dark sect we were in servitude to, just as our ancestors had been before us.

"No, not this time. I've got a few errands to run in the city. It could be a fun day out. Maybe while I run my errands you could visit the lake or the art galleries," my mother enticed her. "We could meet up afterward. High Tea at the Monarch Tower, perhaps?"

For a moment I saw my aunt's violet eyes spark with life at the idea of visiting the art galleries. But I could taste her indecision on my tongue—like the taste of tea that had too much milk added to it—neither here nor there. There was yearning too, and a crest of self-doubt.

Do it, do it, do it—I mentally chanted.

I thought she was going to say yes. I think I was holding my breath in anticipation, Caidan too. No one moved. Not even Ferne.

Her shoulders fell and she seemed to shrink in on herself. My aunt scratched her paint-speckled arm, scrunching her nose. She shook her head, glancing down as her hand fell to her lap, and she rubbed the flat of her palms against her thighs. "A-A-A-" She took a breath, her brow furrowing in concentration. "A-Another time perhaps. I'm j-just about done with your p-portrait, and I want to get it finished."

"Really?" my mother exclaimed, clapping her hands. My aunt loved to paint—was an incredibly talented artist. Her latest piece was a portrait of my mother in her beloved garden of white roses. We'd all seen the progression of the piece over the last couple of weeks, but my mother hadn't as of yet. My aunt wanted it to be a grand reveal in a casual setting over a picnic dinner. My mouth began to water at the thought of my Dad's churrasco. His special marinades. The fresh herbs and spicy sauces. The subtle smokiness infusing the grilled meat. So fucking yummy!

My aunt straightened, smiling broadly. "By t-tomorrow, I will be."

"When I get back home from Ascendria tomorrow, you'll show me then?"

Aunt Valarie pretended to think, pursing her lips to the side and glancing upward. "Hmm...maybe."

My mother swatted her arm playfully and Aunt Valarie broke into a glorious smile, one that warmed my soul and also fucked me off that no one outside our family got to see it.

Jett raised his head. "Can I come with you, Mom?"

She tapped his nose. "Not this time, Jett. You and Caidan have lessons with the governess tomorrow, and later weapons training."

My mother gingerly worked her spine, then rose, holding out a hand to Jett, helping him to his feet. She popped her hands on her waist, arching her spine, rolling her neck and shoulders, rotating her ankle and arm. "Ah," she sighed. "Better," she smiled.

Caidan handed her the wicker basket full of white roses and she took it from him, murmuring her thanks. She glanced down at Jett who was pushing his wavy hair back from his forehead. "I was about to put these in vases up in the family room, want to help?"

Jett flashed a toothy grin, thought better of it, then shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure, I've got time."

I laughed inwardly. The little fucker would spend every minute with her if he had his way.

My mother smoothed down her sundress, and then slowly turned her attention to me and Caidan. Uh-oh...I recognized that look. It looked sweet enough but there was steel in her gaze.

"Now, which one of you left your skateboard on the staircase?"

Caidan shifted uncomfortably. My mother honed in on him sharply, and he cleared his throat before saying, "Me."

"C-Caidan," my aunt snapped, rising, "I'm g-going t-to—"

"He's ten years old Valarie," my mother reminded her softly.

"S-s-smart enough t-to know better."

Aunt Valarie was tougher than my mother when it came to punishments. But in a lot of ways she was softer too. We'd all had our mouths washed with liquid soap. The last time had been a month ago when I'd exploded over discovering a few of my chess pieces had gone missing after my dickhead brother, Kenton, had used them as target practice and then lost them. I might have used every single curse word I'd ever gathered as we'd rumbled in the family room. Unfortunately, my aunt had been the one to overhear and break up our scrapping. Hellsgate, liquid soap was disgusting. Even now I could still taste phantom chemicals of fake-floral coating my mouth. But soon afterward, she'd knocked on my bedroom door with a tub of ice cream tucked under her arm, two silver spoons, and a new chess set. Well old, I guess, an 18th-century Austrian set—an elaborate board made of heartwood, tortoiseshell and bone, with brass and tin pieces. We'd sat cross-legged on my bed, eating through the ice cream, playing game after game. And while she'd waited for me to take my turn, she sketched funny caricatures of us both.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Caidan said, his voice cracking.

"You know the rules. The banister is not for your skateboard tricks. And you are to pick up after yourself. Leaving your skateboard on the steps is incredibly dangerous." She shook her head. Her look of disapproval seemed to cut deeper and hurt far worse than if she'd simply yelled. "What if this happened to someone else, like your aunt, or one of our staff?"

My brother's shoulders slumped as he hung his head, and he toed the stone floor with a scuffed sneaker. "I'm really sorry. I won't do it again."

"No, you won't," she said, her voice softening, a small smile playing on her lips. Caidan glanced up, half-relieved, half-nervous. "Because you," she eyed Caidan, "are on dishes duty for the entire month."

Yes! Ha! At least I was going to get some help with my own punishment.

Caidan tipped his head back and groaned. "A month? Come on, Mom, that's like— "

"Would you like me to make that two months?"

His eyes flared wider as he quickly shook his head. "Um, nope. A month's just fine."

She crooked a finger at Caidan, urging him closer. "Besides the dishes, there is a whole lot of polishing to be done."

Caidan let loose the sigh of the world-weary, but he knew better than to argue with her, and shuffled over to her side. She slung an arm around his shoulders while making an outward sweeping gesture with her other hand. "Imagine a millennia's worth of trinkets, all needing to sparkle and shine. And who better to do it than my little Caidy."

"Mom!" Caidan barked.

She raised her eyebrows in question.

He frowned. "Stop calling me that—you purposely make it sound like Katy."

"Me? I would purposely make your name sound like Caidy?"

"You just did it again!"

She gave a toothy grin and ruffled his hair. "Right now, Caidy, I think I can call you anything I feel like and you'd best not argue." She squinted an eye and tapped her lips with a finger, pretending to think. "Because, besides the polishing, I might just get you to—"

"No, I'm okay," Caidan burst in, throwing up both hands in surrender. "Whatever, Mom. I'm fine with Caidy."

She rounded on us all, slowly giving each one of us the serious-mom-eye and poking a finger our way as she spoke. "Let that be a warning to you all. Leaving your toys strewn about the house is dangerous. Skateboarding is for outside, not inside the house. And if I step on another Lego, I will toss every single one of them into the blender, and that goes for your board games too, Gray."

I gaped in shock. Oh hells, no!

Ferne twisted around in my arms, her mouth falling open. "Fuuuck..." she gasped.

My mother's eyes went so round the whites showed all the way around her irises. She sucked in a deep breath as she splayed her hand on her chest, her fingers stretching across her collarbone.

Holy Zrenyth, we were in so much shit, it wasn't even funny.

She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a long hiss of a breath. "Okay...my baby girl just said... I can't deal with this any longer." Her eyes snapped open and she glared at each of us. "Family meeting after dinner."

She spun on her heel, snapping her fingers at Caidan. "Right, time to start polishing."

Caidan hung his head and followed after her.

I pulled a smarmy face at him as he passed by.

He pulled one back.

I barked a gleeful laugh. "Caidy," I snickered.

He flipped me off.

I just laughed harder, a full belly laugh that jostled Ferne and had her limbs clamping tighter around my hip and shoulders while she giggled.

My aunt swept her braid over her shoulder so it fell down her spine like a rope. Her flip-flops smacked against the stone floor as she approached. I gently bopped Ferne on the nose, enticing another giggle.

My aunt smiled, reaching for Ferne, and settled my baby sister on her back. Ferne wound an arm around my aunt's shoulder while tugging on my aunt's braid with her other hand. Aunt Valarie arched an eyebrow at me, hooking her arms around Ferne's chubby legs. "Gray, with me. Let's go through what's going to h-happen t-tomorrow with your f-father. He'll be b-back from House Novak sometime soon with Kenton."