Cold Spell

EPILOGUE

There were plenty of reasons to love the winter.

Fireplaces. Stews. But most of all—at least, this year, Ginny thought—Christmas.

Most of the neighborhood houses were covered in pretty but simple decor—candles in windows, wreaths on doors, and perhaps some tasteful white lights on a single tree in the front yard. Lucas and Ella’s house, however, was covered in lights of every color and size. Some blinking, some not; some white, some rainbow-colored; some trees covered in a strand or two, some trees covered in so many that it looked like the entire thing might catch fire. The lights looked out of place on the mansion, but no more so than the VW bus parked in the driveway.

Ginny pulled the station wagon up beside the van and jumped out, cringing at the temperature. It had been over a year, but there was still always something frightening about the first moment she stepped out into the cold. It passed quickly, of course—this cold was simple, easy. Something that could be ignored or beaten by a decent coat. Ginny inhaled deeply, let the air warm in her lungs, and then walked toward the front door. The house was glowing, and even though Ginny had only been here a handful of times in the past year, it looked—and felt—like home. She lifted a fist and rapped on the door, though there wasn’t much need—someone was already racing from upstairs to open it.

Flannery’s long dark hair was no longer a tangled, frizzy mess; it was curled neatly into long spirals. Her clothes were new—still mismatched and layered—but her eyes were bright and her grin as wicked as before. Flannery jumped down the last few steps, the impact rattling the framed pictures on the foyer walls. She flung the door open and yanked Ginny inside, hugging her hard.

“Your hair!” Ginny said when she pulled away.

Flannery snorted and motioned to her head. “I know, I know. It made Ella really happy to do it so… whatever,” she says.

“It did make Ella really happy. But Flannery also asked her to do it,” Callum said, walking down the stairs behind Flannery, grinning. Flannery turned around and punched him in the chest hard enough to make Callum cough. “Ginny,” he greeted her, wheezing a recovery.

“It looks beautiful, Flannery,” Ginny said. “Don’t you like it, Callum?” she added pointedly.

Callum looked at the two of them as if they were crazy. “Flannery,” he said, shaking his head, “is always beautiful.”

“Well played,” Flannery admitted, and leaned forward to kiss him quickly. She then turned back to Ginny. “He’s not here yet,” she said, answering the unasked question. “His flight got delayed.”

“How long?” Ginny asked, and Flannery shrugged.

“It can’t be more than an hour,” Lucas said, walking out from the living room. “Come on. Ella bought cake and is going to pretend she made it. Play along.”

“Seriously,” Callum says, nodding. “Play along. There was an incident earlier today. Though I don’t think you can smell the smoke anymore, can you? Or am I just used to it?”

They walked into the living room; Ginny caught a glimpse at the kitchen, where Ella was hurriedly throwing away a bakery store box. Upon seeing Ginny she rushed into the living room, hugging her so hard they toppled against a leather armchair and dissolved into laughter. They finally settled, Ella and Ginny on the chair and ottoman while Lucas, Flannery, and Callum took up the couch.

“Tell me something!” Ella said. “Something new.”

“I talk to you every week,” Ginny reminded her. “There’s nothing new to share.”

“Come on, there has to be something. Have you thought any more about what you’re going to declare your major as?” Ella asked, tucking her feet underneath her.

“Still not sure,” Ginny said. “But I took a philosophy class last semester. Maybe that? I might try a few more weird classes, just in case something sticks.”

“I’m telling you,” Lucas said. “You. Me. Private investigation firm.”

“She can’t major in ‘private investigator,’ ” Ella argued.

“I didn’t say she should major in that,” Lucas said. “It’s a post-college business venture. I’m just saying that between Ginny and me, we could find anyone. We tracked down a mythological creature, remember?”

“Ginny tracked her down, mostly, if I recall,” Ella said, but when Lucas looked offended she poked him with her toes playfully, and he smiled.

“What about you?” Ginny asked Flannery. “You said this was temporary. Actually, no—if I remember, you said you’d rather be back in jail than spend a week in a buffer house.”

Even as Lucas and Ella snickered, Flannery blushed, hard, something that looked foreign on her face. “Actually, we’re going back,” Flannery says, glancing over at Callum. “Not because of the house. This house is fantastic. Have you seen how deep the bathtub is?”

“I seem to remember it,” Ginny said. “When are you going?”

“A month or so,” she said. “We talked with Ardan and Declan the other day. They say my mother’s crown isn’t exactly secure, since I left. People wonder if she can run a camp, if she can’t run her own daughter. I’m not letting that happen, obviously, so I figure we’ll go back and remind them exactly why the Sherlocks are queens. They might turn us away; they might not. I’m not sure.”

“Are you going to tell them the truth about Grohkta-Nap?” Ginny asked.

Callum laughed a little. “Baby steps, Ginny. They’ll come around—they’re good people, smart people. But we’ve got to make them accept an unmarried princess, first.” Despite this, Ginny noticed that he was still wearing his wedding ring, and that Flannery’s was still on a chain around her neck.

Ginny was about to comment on the rings when someone knocked on the front door. She sat up straight, looking from Ella to Lucas. Flannery arched her back over the couch to spy down the foyer; a grin spread across her face, confirming who had arrived.

“Go on,” Lucas said. “We’ll be in the kitchen eating cake.”

“We haven’t eaten dinner!” Ella said.

“We’re adults. We’re allowed to have cake for dinner,” Lucas answered, rising. They filed into the kitchen while Ginny licked her lips and hurried to the foyer.

Through the door’s decorative glass, he looked like a collection of features. Dark hair. Gold eyes. Olive skin and an angular, willowy stature, as if he was animated rather than born. He was wearing a coat, though Ginny knew he didn’t need it—Kai didn’t feel the cold now; he hadn’t ever since Mora. Ginny’s face spread into a grin, and she rushed forward and opened the door.

The cold didn’t have a chance to touch her—Kai moved in first, wrapped his arms around her, and enveloped her, pulling his head to his shoulder, burying his face against her neck. He smelled like cinnamon and soap, and she pushed her full weight into him, until he lifted her from the ground, kissing her temple as he did so.

“You’re late,” she whispered as he put her down, smiling.

“Delayed due to ice,” he said, raising his eyebrows at the irony. “But I’m here now.” Ginny rested her head against his chest for a moment, listening to his heart beat as he held her.

“Maybe I should ditch New York after all. Go back to Portland with you,” he murmured against her hair.

“You say that every time we’re together, you know. But if you’re expecting me to argue, you’re going to be disappointed,” she said, smiling as she lifted to her toes and drew his lips to hers. Her head flooded with heat as they kissed, and he held her tightly, as if he couldn’t be close enough.

“You’re missing the cake!” Flannery yelled from the kitchen. They broke away, laughing at the sound of the others shushing Flannery. Kai kissed Ginny’s forehead quickly, and they walked to the kitchen holding hands. The others were sitting at the table around a deck of cards that Callum and Flannery were using to teach the other two Widow’s Lover. They greeted Kai enthusiastically; Callum moved over a chair so he and Ginny could sit beside each other while Ella cut him a ridiculously large slice of cake.

They played for hours—Ella won frequently, since she worked out how to count the cards—and then drifted away one at a time toward bedrooms on the upper floors. Flannery was the last to leave, giving Ginny a wry smile as she flicked the kitchen lights off on her way out of the room. The Christmas lights outside glowed, a sea of color and illumination that shone bright enough to light the way as Ginny and Kai rose and walked to the window to look out over the yard. Kai stood behind Ginny, put his arms around her, and rested his chin on her head.

Ginny looked down at Kai’s hands and ran her fingers across his knuckles. “You know I’m in love with you, right?” she asked.

“I know,” he answered. “I’ve always known. Since we were little kids.” He opened his mouth as if he was going to say more, but then he stopped and lifted a hand to point. “Look. It’s snowing.”

Fat snowflakes, gentle and scattered, barely enough to dust the ground. Ginny could feel Kai tense behind her; she knew what memories were running through his head. She turned and ran her hand along his cheek. He sighed, relaxed, and kissed her palm.

“Ginny?” he said. “Let’s go to sleep.” She smiled, turned, and took his hand. Together they retreated upstairs, leaving the snow to fall.

There were plenty of reasons to love the winter, and this moment was one of them.