Shadow Rising

Page 33


“For what? What did you do?” She kissed my eyelids, then nuzzled my neck. “I missed you.”


“I’m sorry that I didn’t go shopping with you. That I’ve been so lax on making plans. I saw what you bought—it’s all so perfect. I love it all, everything. But I should have helped. I can’t make it up to you, but…I’ll help from now on. I want our wedding to be perfect.” I paused, knowing that if I promised what I was about to, I’d better damned well follow through. “I’ll find the place. And it will be beautiful. Do you trust me?”


Nerissa tipped her head to the side, a smile spreading across her face. “My sweet, I trust you. All I ever wanted was for you to take an interest in the planning. I know you’re busier than I am and that you may not be able to get out as easily as I can—at least not when the shops are open. That’s all I wanted—to know you cared.”


She pulled me to her, her lips seeking mine. I slid into her embrace, the warmth of her heart beating gently against the silence of mine. As she kissed my eyes, my nose, my lips, my cheeks, I slid my hands down her sides, then reached under her tank to walk my fingers up her abs, up to the curve of her breasts, where I cupped them, reaching up to finger her nipples as they grew hard against my thumbs.


“I never get tired of your touch,” she said, grabbing my wrist and pressing my hand harder against her. “Menolly,” she whispered, her chest rising and falling as her breathing came harder. She leaned back, her hair trailing over the back of the sofa, and spread her legs. I reached for her panties, and she shifted, allowing me to slide them down and off.


I leaned in, kissing her bellybutton, trailing my lips down toward the downy patch of hair between her thighs. Her thatch was trimmed in a delicate “V” and I lingered over it, nosing her gently, as she slid farther down, opening up more to allow me to fully explore her sex. I pressed my lips against hers, gently opening her up, tonguing the budding clitoris that I knew so well.


I’d always known that I preferred women—though when I was young, I thought I’d marry, and perhaps take a mistress on the side. But my first glance had always gone toward women. Camille recognized it before anybody, and one night she sat me down and asked me point-blank. Mother had been dead for some time, and Father was still oblivious, mired in his grief.


Back in Otherworld, loving someone of the same sex wasn’t a big deal. The only time it caused problems was if you were of royal blood and expected to produce an heir. Then, you were expected to marry, reproduce, and, if you wanted, take lovers on the side.


As with Earthside, marriages among the royalty—and even some tradesmen—were more for convenience and economy than for love. Luckily I hadn’t had to worry about that. We weren’t royalty and, being half-breeds, the three of us weren’t likely to be considered for important nuptials.


Nerissa moaned as I nuzzled, grasping her ass with my hands as I held her firm. With a quick, sharp cry, she came hard. I looked up at her, rubbing her thighs softly as she caught her breath.


She gave me a sleepy smile. “Your turn?”


I could tell she was tired, so I shook my head. “I’m happy just pleasing you, tonight. Truly. Curl up under the covers again.” I snuggled next to her and she stroked my hair as I leaned my head on her lap. “You’re my heart-mate.”


“I know,” she whispered. “And you are the only woman in the world for me. I can’t imagine loving anyone else.” A yawn escaped her and she blinked, sighing deeply. “What happened tonight? Everything sounded so tense from your texts.”


It was almost four. I really didn’t want to go over it all again. “You sleep, love. Ask them at breakfast and they’ll tell you. Or Chase can fill you in. He was there with us last night. Meanwhile, I think I need some time to just relax and meditate before the sun calls me to sleep. Do you mind so much?”


She pulled the covers up around her neck and rested her head back on the pillow. “Not a problem, my love. So you like the wedding dresses?” Again, she yawned and sounded like she was already drifting off to sleep.


I kissed her on the forehead and made sure she was tucked in. “I love them. And I promise, I’ll find us a lovely spot to get married in. Sleep now, and rest…and dream deep.”


And with that, I blew out the candles. Nerissa was snoring lightly as I left the room, closing the door behind me.


Once downstairs, I made one last call for the night, to Roman.


He answered immediately. “Are you all right? Was it your friend Andrees?”


“Yeah, it was.” We’d been so busy, I’d almost forgotten, but now the reality came crashing back and I wondered if we’d ever find out who killed the agent. “Chase thinks he was killed execution-style. But his body was maimed after death, and Mallen doesn’t think it’s by the same person who killed him. He was found near the rogue portal in Tangleroot Park.”


I paused, staring at the print on my wall. It was a framed reproduction of Monet’s Water Lilies. I loved it. The painting made me happy; it helped me focus when I meditated.


After a moment, I said, “Roman, I have something to ask you. I need to break a bond and I’m wondering if you can help me do it.” I told him about what had happened with Morio and the blood transfusion that had saved his life. “I love Morio, but like a brother. I don’t like feeling pulled toward him and I know that, even though Camille would understand, it would still strain the relationship. Plus, all I can handle right now is one fiancée and one lover.”


He laughed. “Yes, I can see that. There is a ritual to break a blood bond that isn’t brought about through turning someone.”


“Do both participants need to be there?” I hoped not. If I could do it with as little fuss as possible, all the better.


“Actually, no. But you’ll need to come to me. There are…delicate computations to make. I will need to call on someone. Can you come over around six thirty? Shortly after sunset?”


“Unless we find…well…what we’re looking for. But I’ll need to talk to my sisters first about what they’ve discovered during the day before I come over. Say seven thirty?” And with a few murmured endearments, I hung up. It had been a very long night, and all I could hope for was a sleep untouched by demons and ghosts and memories of the past. I pulled out my yoga mat and went through several of the poses that most relaxed me. My body didn’t need workouts, but the routine comforted me.


Finally, as the sunrise began its siren song, I slipped under the covers and, thinking of Nerissa and how much I loved her, I slipped into an oblivious slumber.


As I entered the kitchen, I was greeted with the sight of a fox chasing two cats—one a ghost cat and the other, obviously Delilah. Snickers was curled up on the windowsill, asleep.


Maggie was in her playpen, clapping and shrieking. Iris was standing on a chair with an upturned pie on the floor at her feet, and Camille was chasing what looked like a giant rat around with a frying pan. A scorch mark in the wall told me she’d already tried magic. Then I realized the fox and the cats were actually chasing the rat, too.


“Whoa there, Tex!” I motioned for Camille to stand back, then stepped over the splattered apple pie and swooped down to grab up the rat, which promptly bit me three times before it turned a terrified face to me. It was kind of cute, actually, and it didn’t look like it had rabies. I stroked its head and it slowly calmed down and settled against me.


Camille whistled to Misty, who jumped on the table and shook her ghostly plume of a tail. Delilah leaped up with her, looking bereft at me, yowling her head off. Iris let out a long sigh as she held on to the back of the chair and lightly jumped to the ground. Morio—in fox form—whined at the door, and Camille opened it. He bounded out and ran off into the yard. At that moment, Hanna came in from the laundry room, a big basket of laundry in hand.


“My pie…” Iris knelt down by the overturned tin and began scraping the remains of the pie back into it. “Well, we’ll have to make do with three pies instead of four. That means no third helpings.” She tossed the pan on the counter as Camille brought over a sponge and paper towels.


Hanna stared at the rat in my arms. “What will you do with that creature? I won’t have rats in my kitchen.”


Iris cleared her throat. “My kitchen, thank you. At least until my house is built. But I agree. Menolly, you can’t keep that creature in here and if you put it outside it will only invite its family in.”


Delilah, who had been staring up at me with big round eyes, let out another yowl and then proceeded to make several odd chirps and noises. The rat chattered back at her. As we all stared at the pair, Delilah shifted back into herself.


“Put him out. He won’t come back. I have his promise upon pain of chasing him down and making a meal of him. But he wants to be let out near the edge of the forest. He doesn’t trust me not to make a dash for him.” She shook her head, still staring at the rat with curiosity.


“Fine, I’ll put the rat outside. Kitten, you stay in here.” I headed for the door.


“While you’re at it, see if you can find Morio. He was in a playful mood and I guess the rat set off his hunting instincts, too.” Camille looked over her shoulder from where she was mopping up the floor.


As I headed for the door, Delilah said, “Oh, by the way, the rat’s name is…well, to pronounce it in English, it would be Chaka.”


“Chaka…Okay, come on, Chaka, let’s go give you a second chance.” I opened the door and, still clutching the rat, exited to the back porch, then out the door to the yard. Clattering down the steps, I held Chaka to my chest and jogged over to the edge of the woods leading to Birchwater Pond. As I knelt down, Chaka looked up at me with his beady little eyes and twitched his nose.


“You go. You go—do whatever it is rats do and don’t come back to the house. I can’t vouch for Iris and Delilah’s self-control. Get it?” I waited, but the rat just twitched his ears. “You don’t understand a thing I’m saying, do you? Maybe you understood Delilah, though. Either way, go on. Have a good life. Eat lots of…garbage.” I set him down and he paused, looking back at me, then raced off into the undergrowth. For some reason I felt a little sad to see him go.


As I stood and dusted my hands on my jeans, I glanced around. Now to find Morio. Where would a fox go? A sentient demonic fox, at that?


I was due at Roman’s in a little over an hour, and I still needed to find out what the others had discovered while I was sleeping. The last thing I wanted to do was find Morio, alone, out here in the dark. I knew he’d be down with me breaking the bond between us, but I didn’t want to chance anything going wrong.


After a few minutes, I decided to hell with it and headed back inside. The kitchen was back to normal and Iris was sorting through some cookies to provide an extra dessert. The guys ate like bulldozers, and my sisters weren’t shy around food either. The Fae needed extra food—we all had higher metabolisms, even the half-Fae. While I no longer required the hearty meals my sisters did, the food bill around here was massive.


“I don’t know where Morio is. Chaka is, however, off and pursuing all things ratty.” I looked around. None of the men were in the kitchen, and usually at least one or two of them were helping Iris and Hanna. “Where are the guys?”


“Morio’s outside playing fox. Vanzir and Roz are down at the studio, mending a leak in the roof. Shamas is at work—he’s on duty the next few nights. Shade’s over at Wilbur’s, helping Marion and Douglas settle in because Wilbur’s coming back home tomorrow. He took Martin with him and apparently was able to corral him into behaving. They’re leaving Snickers here until they get their own house because they don’t trust Martin not to eat the cat. Smoky and Trillian are off getting takeout for dinner. Iris made dessert but we decided to forgo a big family dinner tonight in favor of Chinese.” Camille set the plates on the table and Delilah put out the pies and cookies.


Iris added silverware, chopsticks, and a bag of paper napkins, while Hanna carried the laundry over to the rocking chair. Maggie was in her playpen, playing with her Yobie doll—it had Yoda’s head and Barbie’s body and was pretty beat up by now with plenty of teeth marks, but she loved the thing with a passion and we didn’t dare take it away from her.


I looked around for something to do. Motioning to Hanna, I said, “I’ll fold the towels. You go ahead and take a break. Make some tea or something.”


“I will take my break when it’s time to eat. There is so little work here compared to Hyto’s cavern, I am not tired.” Hanna was sturdy, from the Northlands, and she never shirked on helping out. She was around her late thirties, early forties, and seemed content. But, while she was friendly, she seemed to have a very strong sense of boundaries.


“That’s okay—you don’t have to be tired to take a break.” I reached for the basket, but she stopped me.


“No. This is my work. Menolly, you have important tasks. You and your sisters battle evil creatures. My duties are to support and tend to you. You saved me from Hyto’s grasp, and for that, I will serve you willingly.” Her English was still broken, though every day it seemed stronger, but she spoke with strength and conviction.


“You aren’t our servant, Hanna.” I shook my head. “But if you want to take on the duties of housekeeper, we’re happy to pay you. We pay Iris.”


“Iris is your family. I am not. Payment is welcome, but I am your servant and I am content in my place. This is what I know how to do.” Her voice dropped. “When I lived in the Northlands, before Hyto destroyed my life, my husband—he was stern. The house and gardens and children, all were mine to care for while he was off hunting. He loved his children, and he treated me with respect, but nothing was easy.” She struggled with some thought, trying to put it into words. “I…I was born a warrior woman, and would have…preferred to travel unmarried to make my own way.”

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