Island of Glass (The Guardians Trilogy #3)(8)

Steadier, she studied the coffeemaker on the counter, decided, yes, she could work that. As she did, she heard footsteps. She tried not to resent them, but God, she could have used another hour of silence and solitude.

But when Sasha came in, when Riley saw the relief in her friend’s eyes, she felt small about that resentment.

“Need coffee,” she said.

“Me, too. How are you?”

Riley shrugged, grabbed mugs out of the glass-fronted cabinet. “Good. I inhaled the leftovers Annika left, so I’m good.”

And when Sasha’s arms wrapped around her from behind, Riley felt even smaller. “I had to run it off.”

“I know, I know. I felt you come back, so it’s all good. Are you still hungry?”

“Topped off for right now, thanks. How are you? You took some hits.”

“Bran took care of it. Sawyer got the brunt.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. But he’s okay?”

“We all are. I hope he sleeps a few hours more—I thought you would.”

“Later, most likely. Had to fuel.” And fueled, Riley leaned back on the counter, smiled. “Some house.”

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” With her coffee, Sasha wandered the kitchen. “I haven’t seen half of it yet—and I want to get outside, even in the rain, and just see. But it’s amazing. And I slept in a tower room with a magician. What could be more amazing than that?”

“Slept or had sex?”

Sasha’s eyes gleamed at Riley over the rim of her mug. “We did both.”

“I just knew you’d end up bragging.” Riley wandered over to the glass doors, looked out at the slow, thin rain and the gray sea. “It could be out there. In or under the water, like the other two. Another island, so there’s a reason there. I’ll have to see about getting us a boat.”

Sasha stepped up, looked out with her. “I appreciate you not asking, but I’ll answer anyway. I don’t know. I haven’t felt anything, not yet.”

“We just got here. We should have a little time to set things up before she comes at us again.”

“Sawyer said she kicked back at him hard during the shift—and you could see how hard. But he also said she weakened, and aged, before he let go.”

Riley nodded, sipped coffee. “That follows. We put that gray streak in her hair, those lines on her face after we busted her ass in Corfu. Maybe we’ll be dealing with an old crone who can barely work up a bitch slap this round. And no,” she added, “I don’t really believe that.”

“We have two of the stars, and we beat her twice. We’ll find the third.”

“Optimistic’s good.”

Sasha looked over at Riley. “Aren’t you?”

“I won’t diss positive thinking. It’s a good tool—as long as you’re willing to back it up.” Riley gestured. “We’ve got some room out there to train. More in the front, the forest side, but either way. We could set up a decent target range out there. Then there’s the woods. Gotta be at least five, six acres of them from what I ran through last night. Quiet, private. It’s Ireland, so we’re probably going to do a good chunk of training in the rain.”

When Sasha said nothing, Riley shot her a glance. “And we just got here. We all need to take a breath. I’m revved up,” she admitted. “Big, bloody battle, the moon, the shift.”

“Was it different, traveling in wolf form?”

“Exciting in its way, and weird, at least at first because I was healing as we flew, and I couldn’t really focus. The landing was fast and hard, and knocked me back.”

“I hear you.”

“Then I had to run it off. Mostly I like knowing my ground before the moon, so I can judge where’s safe for a run. But I had to work it off. Lucky, like I said, there are acres of private woods. You hooked a big magick fish, Sash.”

“You helped.”

“Me? I don’t remember casting out any lures for you.”

“You were my friend. The first friend I ever had who knew what I was, what I had, and accepted me for me. You gave me advice, you listened, you cared. And all that helped me be smart and strong enough to, well, cast those lures myself.”

“Boy, you owe me.”

Sasha laughed, gave Riley a one-armed hug. “I do. I’ll pay you back, in part, by making breakfast. Since we’re in Ireland, I’ll go with Bran’s specialty of a full Irish.”

“I’ll take it. I want to shower first. Didn’t have a chance after the war.”

“No rush. I want to walk and wander around the house first. I barely took anything in last night.”

“Does Bran play the piano?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“He’s got a beaut. Viennese parlor grand, mid-nineteenth century.”

“Do you know everything?”

“Pretty much. He’s also got a cello, violins, violas, flutes, and an exceptional collection of bodhran drums. He must play some of it.”

“It’s never come up, so I’ll have to ask. Do you play anything?”

“Piano, sure, though it’s been a while. And he’s got a game room area over there that kicks major ass. And one small cathedral of a library.”