Akane, red-faced, startled and wisps of smoke curling out her nostrils, hugged Ruby back. “Thank you.”

“Let them in from the cold, child.” Aileen gently rebuked Ruby, who blushed and pulled away from Akane.

“Sorry. Here, let me get your coats.” Ruby shut the door and gathered their coats while Moira gave Akane a hug. Jaden and Duncan watched their female through warm, loving eyes, their own hands clasped together, dark skin twined with fair.

Jaden Blackthorn’s Native American heritage was evident in his long, black hair and eyes, the shape of his jaw and his dusky skin. Duncan Malmayne-Blackthorn was as fair as his male mate was dark, with golden blond hair and pale gray eyes. Shane’s red-haired sister was like a flame between them, dancing back and forth with a touch here, a caress there, keeping her men grounded. It warmed Shane’s heart to see how close they’d become. She’d nearly lost both of them, one to mate sickness and the other to self doubt, and still hadn’t quite gotten over that. None of them had realized how deep the bond between Duncan and Jaden was until Jaden had left for weeks, nearly destroying both Duncan and Moira in the process. If Jaden had understood what his absence would do to his lovers he never would have left them, but he had, and Duncan still bore the marks in the silver that now dotted the golden mop of hair Jaden was busy playing with. He laughed when Duncan pushed his hands away with an annoyed grunt, but Shane caught the amusement Duncan tried to hide.

“Happy birthday, Akane.” Jaden gave Akane a hug of his own, lifting the dragoness off her feet and twirling her around, much to Moira’s obvious disgust.

Shane wasn’t worried about Jaden. He was Akane’s usual partner, working with her on the cases Robin assigned them, but he’d been so busy setting up his newly minted clan he hadn’t been able to assist her recently. His presence in Nebraska must mean that his business in Colorado had been happily concluded. Shane could only hope so. He trusted Jaden to guard Akane’s back much more than that Etienne guy. The Sidhe might have been dumpster diving in Tristan Malmayne’s head but his beady eyes had been glued to Akane’s thighs.

Seriously. What the fuck kind of name was Etienne?

“Thanks, Jade.” Akane gave Jaden a peck on the cheek, and that did bother Shane. She’d yet to kiss him voluntarily.

The rest of the family offered their birthday wishes, and soon they were digging into the mountain of food Aileen had made. Shane found himself tucked in the corner, a plate in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, watching indulgently as his father tried to get Akane to eat asparagus tips. It was like watching him trying to feed Moira Brussel sprouts when she’d been four. Akane was making that same stinky doo-doo face Moira had made way back then.

“She seems happy enough.”

Shane was very proud of the fact that he didn’t jump at the sound of that rich, laughing voice. “I hope so, since I plan on her living here for the rest of her natural life.” He turned to smile at the red-headed man leaning in the window. An amazing feat, since the window had been closed not a moment before, Shane hadn’t heard it open, and for some reason the cold winter air wasn’t coming into the house. But that was what you got when the Hob decided to drop in for supper.

The Hob stepped in through the open window, closing it silently behind him. “Is that so?” His head tilted, the gesture somehow inhuman, almost birdlike. “What does she think of that?”

Shane shrugged. “She’s mine, and I’m here.” He held out his plate, the sandwich on it untouched. “Food?”

Robin took the plate with a small bow. “Thank you.”

While Robin ate his ham and cheese sandwich Shane took a moment to study him. Something about Robin had his fingers twitching. Just out of reach was the vision he’d had earlier, one that became stronger each time he met the Hob. With a gasp he realized what was meant to be in the center of the storm his vision kept showing him, and the knowledge left him dazed.

“Are you all right?”

Shane nodded, too stunned to speak. He needed to get to his workspace. He needed to go now. The vision was riding him hard, demanding completion before it would leave him be. “Yeah.” He handed his drink to Robin. “I have to go.” He signaled his mother and she nodded. She understood what the look on his face meant, and where he’d be for the foreseeable future. She’d let everyone know if they asked. His family would take care of him until it was over.

“Shane.”

He blinked and stared at Robin, his vision superimposed over the slender figure of the man himself. “Yes?”

Robin studied him, his brows slowly rising. “Take care. It’s cold out.”

“Cold out.” His eyes darted longingly toward the door. “Yes.”

He allowed Robin to steer him toward the doorway. The Hob thrust Shane’s coat in his hands. He blinked down at it, not really seeing it at all. “I have to go.”

“Yes, you do.” Robin led him out the front door, the cold no bother for the Hob. The chill wind plastered the caramel-colored silk shirt to his skin but Robin didn’t even shiver. He watched silently as Shane made his way to his studio, those sharp blue eyes catching everything Shane did.

Once inside the building, Shane turned to face him. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” Robin looked around, curiosity in his gaze. “May I look around?”

Shane nodded, already changing into his coveralls, his vision overriding everything else, even common courtesy. It would be a while before he emerged again, and he’d be more than exhausted when he was done.

Worst of all, when it was over he’d need to call the Seer. If what he was seeing was correct, the world was in for one hell of a ride.

Robin Goodfellow perched on a rafter and looked down on Shane Joloun Dunne. He’d been around those with the Sight often enough to know a vision trance when he saw one, but what surprised him was the way Shane went about bringing his visions to life. The man’s hair gleamed with sweat as he worked the forge, purifying silver ore, bending brass and copper to his will. His hands were steady, his touch strong yet delicate as he took glass and molded it, twisted it until he was finally satisfied with shape and hue. His eyes had been, and still were, clouded with visions. Despite that, he’d looked at Robin as if seeing into the Hob without the terror Robin often encountered. If Robin were inclined toward men, it would be such a one who might win his empty, lonely heart.

But Robin knew himself well. Even while wearing the form of a female he was, deep down, a lover of all things feminine. The thought of taking a male lover was, while not exactly repulsive, something that simply did not occur to him. Robin longed for soft, feminine flesh and warm, loving hands. Hands that would caress him, ease the burden on his weary soul. He desired eyes that would see into him without fear, a mind willing to know him, accept him for everything he was. All he wished from life was a soft place to land, a gentle touch, and an acceptance that was beyond most. To find such a thing would be wondrous indeed.

He smiled as he watched the eldest Dunne child through bright eyes. Leo Dunne had found such a one, and little Ruby was a delight to the Hob’s heart. She greeted him with glee, hugged him in welcome, and offered him that safe, soft place he yearned for. Had she not been truebonded, he might have been tempted to steal her from the Sidhe lord. But alas, Ruby was forever beyond him, bound by ties of love, soul mated to the man the gods had decreed was hers and hers alone.

And Robin was happy for them. To know such a woman existed and had found her fae mate gave him a hope he’d long since given up on.

Robin held himself perfectly still as Shane sighed wearily. He could tell whatever visions drove the man had almost been purged, but Shane, it seemed, had one last thing to do. One last bit to add to one of the sculptures he’d worked madly on all night, driven to near insanity by what only he could see. Robin wasn’t sure what the sculptures meant, but Shane did, and Robin was determined to find out what.