Lullaby (Fable Saga Book 2)
the
t who I need to speak to. I only know one angel, after all, e
He's going to think I'm crazy if I start asking him about witc
edge of the forest clearing where I found my bicy
ieve that the crumbling old headstone could possibly be Mia's, but at least i
ll that's left of the bike are a few flakes of rust and red paint chips beneath the thorns. Theit's almost nightfall anyway, and the dark makes everything look different. She
groceries, plus Kitty's ten thousand dollar clothes shopping spree. I suggested we leave her bags in the car – it's not like
Alastaire sprawled out on one of the plush green velvet living room sofas, reading
ping his finger across his phone. "Sweeping his hands through his ravishing locks of shining golden blonde hair, his spellbinding sapphire sky blue
r this is. The groceries are out on the porch. Yo
hone into his pocket. "First you steal my Cupcake away for a whole d
out, hoping he's never read any of mine. Although ev
. "The vain git loves anything that has to do with him. Anyways, thanks for
y's it always Lyall and Alastaire getting all the action?" He asks with a frown. "Serio
f royally when you went public with that aussie girl last spring. That's why I keep things casu
is Twitter account that they were dating, and the girl apparently got hundreds of death threats within a few hours. Someone even set up a Kickstarter to
to buy some food," Alastaire says. "Where ha
t Owl," I say. "I mean, the ca
the
t the right time to bring it up with Alastaire. I need to get
forward on the sofa, suddenly int
'm leaving a surprise for you next to the bath, make sure you use it. I'll be very upset if you don't."
hauls in the shopping. "Come help w
es and lumbers t
e counter and starts unpack
?" Lyall asks Alastaire. "Feels like
just upset that his sister stole away our lovely songs
peering out the window past me. "It's almost dark, and ye must be tired Ash
, stacking plums and pears in
y pud in those bags," Alastaire says. "You t
," Lyall says. "It's gotta be de most disgustin' thing you British eejits
aire says. "I have a very refined palate. Anyw
ish eggs and snails is d
" Alastai
Lyall
e sofa and walking over to me. He starts searching through the
dried fruits that people set on
oth-wrapped pudding Kitty picked up for him at the German delicatesse
one of those things I've always avoided, on accoun
know," I admit. "I
pulls me down to sit on
Did you hear that Lyall
out?" Ben asks, setting some
irginity," A
my face grow hot. "I wasn't t
e not a virgin?
ies in the fridge and is watching
tumble over my words. "A fruitcake
ns ever redder than mine. Ben laughs, seemin
someone. And even if I wasn't a... a virgin... there's nothing wrong with that either. A girl's body is her own to... do... what sh
sex, something I know absolutely nothing
in that case," Alastaire says sweetly
eckin lame, seriou
r cheesy br
taire says, flicking his hand at Lyall. "Bring me
reath but brings us the bowls and s
asks. "How about m
Now, it's tradition to heat up the pudding for a few hours before eating it. And I always like dousin
th fall
mound of Christmas pudding in front of us. He
to my bowl, alon
ks dis
ring how Alastaire would react if
d just try it at least. It's not
nful of the pudding
a hint of spice, treacle, figs, liquorice, light and sticky, steeped in brandy or sherry as it melts
ict?" Alas
I smile as I scoop up anothe
a grin. "I've been addicted
cted to," Lyall says. "Those things
dding, I become aware of how uncomfortably piercing Alastaire's stare is as he watches me eat.
s," he
are watching us. There's an awkward silence, and I can
some air
ts of eyes following me as I
" I hear Lyall
n. The cool night air wraps around me, drawing me out to the steps that lead down into the cle
the past? How many of these stars died eons ago, and now all that's left is their pale ghostl
a voice say
his hand over his close-cropped light brown hair