Free The Stag Lord by Darby Kaye

coffeemaker.”
    As Bann set the table, Shay poked at the bacon. When the meat finished its death dance, she scooped it out and laid it on a pile of paper towels to drain. Coming back for juice glasses, Bann reached around her, snagged a piece of bacon, and popped it in his mouth.
    â€œDo that again,” Shay joked, hoping to ease the tension, “and you’ll be missing some fingers.”
    â€œA worthy risk.” Bann promptly stole another piece. “‘Tis bacon, after all.”
    Shay grinned at the faint brogue that had slipped out. “What is it with guys and their meat?” Oh, crap. Did I just say that ? Face burning, she grabbed another paper towel and began patting grease from the bacon as if her life depended on saving them from high cholesterol. Gratitude flooded her when Cor reappeared and took his place at the counter.
    Within minutes, both father and son were hammering down as if they hadn’t eaten in days, Bann trying to steal his son’s bacon the entire time and jerking his hand away when Cor tried to stab it with his fork. After breakfast, he shooed Shay out of the kitchen, insisting he and Cor would clean up since she’d cooked. Shay agreed.
    Taking Max with her, she retreated to her bedroom to finishing dressing for the day. After pulling on a pair of jeans, running shoes, and a warmer shirt, she brushed out her mostly dry hair and fastened it back into a ponytail. Making her bed, she threw an old blanket across the duvet cover. “It’s all yours.” She shook her head when the dog leaped on the bed, made two circles, then settled down with a contented sigh. “I have totally spoiled you.” Max agreed, pleased she had caught on so quickly.
    Down the hall, she could hear Bann and Cor in the guest room talking, apparently finished with the dishes. Their voices were too low to hear the words. Once she thought she heard Cor protesting, followed by a curt command from Bann. She froze when the boy’s voice suddenly rose in frustration.
    â€œBut I saw them, Dad! I know I did! Weapons. Like your other ones. Bronze ones. They were on the counter last night.”
    â€œMind yer tone with me. Ye saw nothing. And I forbid ye to speak with her about it. Get yer shoes on. Now.”
    Silence.
    Shay wondered who would crack first. I’d bet on Bannerman .
    â€œCormac Boru, ye’ve the count of three to do as ye’re told. One. Two.” A long pause. “Three.” A longer pause. “Four.”
    She grinned. Yup. Clearly, Cor has inherited his father’s stubbornness. I wonder what Bann’s going to do now .
    A smack was followed by a yelp. A moment later, the guest room door banged open. Footsteps, too heavy to be Cor’s, echoed down the hall, then faded.
    Shay hesitated. A sniff propelled her out of her room and along the corridor. She peeked in the guest room. Cor was seated on the floor between the two beds, tying his shoes, his movements savage. He kept his gaze fixed on the laces as she entered.
    â€œYou okay?”
    He nodded and started on the other shoe. His mouth worked as if trying to make a decision. “Can I ask you something?” he said in a hushed voice.
    Shay’s heart sank. I promised Bann I wouldn’t say anything . “It depends.”
    â€œAre you…you know…like us ?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” She stalled for time by both dodging the question and joining Cor on the floor.
    Cor leaned closer. “Are you Tuatha Dé Danaan, too?” he whispered. A mixture of hope and something close to desperation colored his face.
    â€œWhat an odd question. And what is a toody-day hannah ?” she asked, purposefully mangling the pronunciation. It broke her heart when the light in Cor’s eyes faded.
    â€œNever mind.” He finished tying his shoe. Climbing to his feet, he looked around, then picked up his sweatpants and T-shirt. “Thank you for letting us stay at your