I bent down to pick up her bag. “We can go, you big baby. Meet you back at the shop. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Ash’s brows went up. “Everything okay?”
I glanced down at my bag. “I’m not sure yet.”
Chapter
Twelve
We all stared down at the pearlescent glittering egg nestled on a bundle of hay inside the box March had given me.
“Holy shit,” Ash breathed. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yup,” I said unhelpfully.
Tess moaned and floated away, tugging at a lock of her hair.
Moira whistled low. “Your mother is going to shit a brick when she finds out.”
I hesitated for a moment before saying, “What if she doesn’t find out?”
Ash’s attention jerked from the egg to me. “You want to do what? Become an incubator for a magical bird and keep it hidden from your mother? The owner of the only three magical birds whose song can resurrect the dead?”
I grimaced. “Umm. Yes?”
Ash threw his hands up. “Madness, I tell you.”
I didn’t keep many secrets from Tess, Moira, and Ash. They knew about my attack, the pertinent bits of my past, and thatmy mother was Cliona, a Tuatha fae and Queen of the Banshees. While it was a cool tidbit for mythology trivia, no one wanted my mother around. Getting involved with the gods was a real quick way to get dead.
“I won’t keep it here,” I promised. “I’ll keep it at the house.”
“Why don’t you just give it back to your mom?” Moira asked.
I shook my head. “It’s hard to explain. The way it came to me...I don’t think I’m supposed to.” I looked up at them helplessly. “Call me crazy. I feel like this bird was supposed to come to me.”
A flap of wings sounded seconds before Poe landed on my shoulder. We never knew how he got in, but he always managed to find me, no matter where I was.
“She barely let you get away with that one,” Ash said, his eyes lingering on Poe.
I reached up to stroke the raven’s ruff. “She didn’t have a choice. Poe broke away of his own free will.”
“Cliona,” Poe croaked.
“Yeah.” I craned my neck to look up at him. “What do you think we should do?”
The bird ruffled its feathers and peered down at the egg. “Stay.”
“And my mother?”
“Bad mother,” Poe croaked.
Ash snorted. “Understatement of the year.”
Poe hopped off my shoulder and flapped to the table. I sucked in a hissing breath, and Poe turned to peer up at me as if to say, “Really?” He hopped right into the box, ruffled his butt feathers and sat right on top of the egg.
“Baby cold.”
Ash’s eyes softened. “Aww,” he cooed. “You’re going to be a good mother, Poe.”
