Sun Catch Her (Book 1: Three Rivers Deep series) COMPLETE

Chapter Thirty-Three

In the world of the devvis, there was a grossly disproportionate number of females to males; I was a part of the rarer gender. A she-devvi just coming into maturity should expect to experience her newly realized drive to reproduce homing in on potential mates. She chose multiple bucks, the group she created termed a "queendom."

A gaggle of geese, a queendom of devvis.

The more dominant the female was, the more males she'd take under her wing. It seemed to be an issue of people management, of possessing the prowess and deft to keep so many egos satisfied and in check.

Almost lightheaded with the amount of strange, new information spiraling in my head, there was a bounce in my step as I descended the stairs, casually dressed in linen shorts and a well-fitted High Voltage Hockey T-shirt. I paused halfway down the stairs with the empty glass and silver bowl in hand, and I listened to two quiet voices conversing in the room to the left of the staircase—the study, or so Indy intended to make it. Right now, all there was furnishing the small room were a few empty bookcases awaiting the contents of the moving crates and an antique roll-top desk that she rescued from a roadside flea market.

One of the voices I recognized clearly as Micah's honey tone, but the other... Hastily, I set down the bowl and glass, and then descended the last few steps and rounded the corner. That other voice! I stood stock still in the doorway with my heart in my throat. Alex.

He hadn't been in school today. And now he was here, in my house, dressed in a navy suit. The rich color always seemed right on him. The loose tie and suede shirt with the three top buttons undone and cufflinks removed, maybe stuffed in the pocket of his suit coat tossed over the desk chair, spoke of his tendency for finery, but that he would rather be wearing something much less formal.

He looks good, I decided when the boys' collective attention rose from the laptop they were crowded over, turning to face me in a motion as smooth as melted chocolate that almost seemed choreographed.

His raven bangs shifting, Alex tilted his head in a welcoming gesture, his eyes almost the color of a pristine winter desert sky today. Micah was still in his academy finery. He extended a hand without a word, reaching for mine. They both looked good, standing there, waiting for me. Together. As a she-devvi, it's expected that I'll choose multiple mates.

"Ah, hey guys. What's going on?" It came out more quietly than I intended as I crossed the room. I felt a bit underdressed; I was glad I had decided to go with a bra.

"We were hoping you could tell us about something," Alex replied. He kept his expression neutral when Micah pulled me into a half hug before lifting me onto a stool next to the desk, the action itself a possessive display.

A backward glance told me that someone had closed the laptop before I got within viewing distance, and I squirmed with discomfort on the wooden seat, wondering what they wanted. I stiffened in understanding as soon as my sketchpad appeared on my lap, opened to the Spatula Man composition.

Sending my fingers across the page, the aroma of the crayon I had used rose under my warm touch, the smell of it reminding me of the time I'd put into the drawing, almost obsessing over it. They wanted me to explain this? I pressed my hand to the burnt spot from Micah's thumb, almost in want to hide it. "It's...from a dream." And also, a very real memory.

My gaze rose to see, for the first time, the twin, on-edge light mirrored behind their eyes. I glanced back down at the drawing. The man with his spatula-like weapon was poised rigid, the odd staff held high and his free hand gesturing to the right of the frame, where the building rose off the page. "I've been remembering more of this, from the day the apartment collapsed."