I realized just how little we’d bothered to find out about Roz, which made me wonder about Vanzir, as well. And about our other friends? What secrets did they have that we hadn’t bothered to examine?
Rozurial shrugged. “A kiss, a touch, sex . . . anything can siphon off the energy. We can kill with this power. We can drain our partner dry, but most of us don’t. I’d rather feed off sex with willing women—and there are always women who respond to me—rather than coerce or force it. Not all of my kind feel that way, though.”
Fraale shrugged. “Not all our kind feel much of anything beyond the immediate need. I think our past has helped us hold on to our emotions.” She rubbed her temples. “In a way, what makes us the most miserable probably makes us the most compassionate for our potential victims.” With a melancholy sigh, she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees.
Roz winced, then reached out and lightly caressed her shoulder. “There, I agree with you.”
I turned away so they wouldn’t see the mist in my eyes. I didn’t like sad endings, but there was no way Fraale and Roz could have a happily-ever-after.
A moment later, Roz cleared his throat. “So where do we go from here?”
“A question first.” Hanna chewed on one lip, as if she were mulling over a thought. “I take it you need more than what you have been getting from me to tide you over?”
Once again, Roz winced. “I’ve tried to hold out . . . Oh hell, why lie? Yeah, I need more than one woman, Hanna. You’re great! Never think anything but that, and you’re passionate and sexy.” He glanced at Fraale but she said nothing. “It’s just that I’m an incubus. It’s like being amped up a hundred times more than normal. I need more . . .” Here, he paused—he was actually blushing.
“Juice?” I offered, trying to lighten the mood. “Too bad you can’t just plug into an outlet.”
For once, my joke didn’t fall flat. Roz laughed, and Fraale and even Hanna joined in. The break in tension was a welcome relief.
Roz let out a snort. “That would hurt in ways I don’t even want to think about.”
A wistful smile on her face, Hanna stood. “Best this come out now rather than later after I let my foolish heart lead me into places from where it would be hard to backtrack.”
“Hanna—” Roz started to speak but Hanna held up her hand.
“It’s all right, Rozurial. I have survived far worse than the likes of you, and we had fun. I will be all right. I promise, I’m not going to return to the Northlands. But I will not share your bed again, for all I enjoy it. Only a fool returns to a path that leads to certain ruin.”
She turned to Fraale. “I’m truly glad we met. And . . . I am sorry for the heartache you’ve endured. I understand loss too well.”
Fraale laughed softly. “I would have you stay with him, Hanna—you’d be good for my beloved Rozurial. But you’re right. It would only lead to your heart breaking, too, because it’s impossible not to fall in love with the man.” She held out her hand and Hanna took it. Fraale pressed it to her lips, then gently let go.
Hanna walked over to Menolly and scooped Maggie out of her arms. “I’ll put her back to bed.”
Fraale watched her go. “If anyone can weather all the slings of the world, that woman can. She’s stronger than I am.” With a sigh, she also stood. “I should not have come here, but I’m glad I did. You’re my touchstone, Rozurial, my love. Like it or not, you ground me back into reality. Whenever I need a kick in the ass, when I start mourning the past, I just have to show up and everything falls back into place. Even if the kick hurts like hell.”
She leaned over and kissed him on the lips, slow and long. Roz closed his eyes and I thought I could see a tear trickle down through his lashes. As she stepped away, Fraale worried her lip, but then let out a gentle laugh.
“I wish . . . But if wishes were raindrops, we’d be in the middle of the fucking ocean. Until next time, all of you, take care of yourselves and your extended family.” With that, she waved at Menolly and me, and vanished.
Roz watched her disappear. A moment later, he glanced over at us. “Save your lectures, if you have any, because I’m not up for it. I haven’t done anything wrong. I never led Hanna on, and I’ve never touched Iris or any of you.” His eyes narrowed, and he rubbed his forehead. “And I have a headache the size of the watermelon.”
I glanced at Menolly, then back to him. “Roz, we’re not judging you. I never really thought much about the fact that you’re an incubus, to be honest. You never really bring it up, and I guess I never thought about what you need.”
Menolly stood, pacing behind the sofa. “I have. And I’ve been watching Hanna. I could see she was getting too attached but I couldn’t just tell her to stop. In a way, Fraale’s visit was fortuitous. And before you ask, I had nothing to do with her arrival. I have no clue how to contact her, even if I wanted to.”
“You’re right about Hanna. As I said, I never led her on, but I should have seen it coming. I guess . . . it just felt like a little bit of normality in my life and I liked it. I like her.” Roz stretched and yawned.
“The desire for a little bit of normality . . . that I think we all understand.” Menolly headed toward the kitchen. “I’m going out for a walk. I’ve got a lot to think about.” And with that cryptic statement, she left the room.
A little worried, I decided to follow her. “Roz, go to bed. Sleep off the headache. I’m going to catch up to Menolly. We’ll talk later, okay?”
He glanced in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m a little concerned about her, too, Kitten. She’s acting a little peculiar, even for Menolly.” And with that, he patted me on the shoulder and headed out the front door, back to the studio where he and Vanzir slept.
As the door closed behind him, I entered the kitchen. Menolly was just finishing off a bottle of blood. She flashed me a quick smile. “Go back to bed, Kitten.” She headed toward the kitchen door.
I skirted the table, catching up to her. “Wait up. I want to talk to you.” I realized I was still in my PJs, so I grabbed a pair of gardening galoshes from the back porch and shoved my feet into them, then pulled on a rain poncho that was hanging there. It was chilly and damp outside.
“I need to think, Kitten. Alone.” Menolly frowned. “Can we talk later?”
“No. I’m going with you, so deal with it.” I crowded in behind her as she exited the porch, out into the backyard. A little ways away, beyond the rogue portal—which was still pointed toward the realm of the Elder Fae—stood Iris’s house, behind a stand of maple and fir. We could see the lights twinkling in an upstairs window. Chances were, Iris was up for an early feeding of the twins and Chase’s baby, Astrid.
Menolly seemed to get the message that she couldn’t shake me, so she fell into a comfortable silence beside me as we wandered toward the path leading to Birchwater Pond. She shoved her hands in her pockets and stared at the sky, which was misty and cloudy, but no longer lashing rain down around us.
I shivered beneath the poncho but the fresh air was invigorating, and made my nose quiver with all of its scents, even in two-legged form.
As we approached the trailhead, a pale sliver of moonlight reflected behind the clouds, casting a surreal glow over lawn and woodland. The conifers loomed like black silhouettes against the sky, while the maple and alder rose bare-branched, spectral sentinels over the land. Spring seemed so very far away at this moment.
After a while, I broke the silence. “Why did you drag Iris’s name into that little drama back there? She’d be mortified.”
“No, she wouldn’t,” Menolly snapped.
I stared at her. Something had to be wrong. She was usually brusque but we hadn’t had an argument in a long time. Something was brewing.
“Then let me rephrase my question.” Feeling on edge now, I stopped in the middle of the path and turned to her. “What’s going on? You aren�
�t yourself tonight.” The wind picked up and I shivered beneath the poncho.
Menolly continued on for another step or two, but then when she realized I wasn’t keeping pace, she stopped and turned around. Her eyes were glowing luminous red, and I recognized the predator rising within her. For a moment, a bolt of fear stabbed through me but then I reminded myself that—vampire she may be—she was still my sister.
“You really want to know?” She scuffed the ground. “You have to promise not to tell anybody. Especially Camille. She’d want to dive in and solve the problem and I don’t want anybody meddling until I’ve figured out what I’m going to do.”
Okay, this was sounding serious. “You know I hate promising to keep secrets from Camille.”
“Promise.”
I frowned, then decided if it was something dangerous, I’d just have to deal with breaking my word. Because if it was something serious, I wasn’t about to keep it on the down low. “Yeah, fine. What’s going on?”
Menolly nodded to the trail in front of us. “Let’s walk and talk, to keep you warm.”
We started up again, and I felt a hollow ringing in my stomach. I was either hungry, or nervous. Or maybe a little bit of both.
As we headed into the shadow of the trees, she ducked her head. “I’m having problems, Kitten. With my marriage.”
I blinked. I had expected her to say something about her inner predator rising out of control, or maybe Roman and the Vampire Nexus being too pushy. “What’s going on?”
“Please understand, I love Nerissa more than I’ve ever loved anybody. But I don’t know if I’m cut out for marriage.”
Okay, that wasn’t altogether a surprise. I knew that Nerissa and Menolly argued a lot, but they always seemed to resolve things. “How so?”
“I love being with Nerissa, I love having her in my life, I love her . . . but I feel so constrained. I can never do anything right. She’s always complaining that I check out—that I’m not emotionally available. I just don’t know what she means.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t know how to be who she wants me to be.”
“You’ve barely been married a year.” I wasn’t sure what to say, but even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew that wasn’t the right thing.
“I know!” Menolly whirled to face me. Even in the dim light of the early morning, I could see the pain on her face. “That’s the horrible part. Our anniversary is coming up and all I can think about is, fuck, how can I make this special for her? I have no clue. Things like anniversaries don’t mean that much to me. But they do to her, and I never know how to respond. You’ve heard us argue—over Yule, over our wedding. To me, what matters is that we’re together. I just don’t understand why we have to . . . to . . .”
“To make a show of it?” I felt like I’d walked into my second act on the Jerry Springer Show, and right now, I wasn’t loving it so much. On television, it was funny—easy to laugh at. But this was real life.
“Right. Do you know what I mean?”
I debated on how to answer that. I wanted to show solidarity with my sister, but I really felt for Nerissa. After a moment, I decided to just be honest.
“No, I don’t. I care about birthdays and anniversaries and holidays. So I understand where Nerissa is coming from. But I also know you, and I know how hard this is for you.”
Displays of affection had always been like pulling teeth for Menolly. Even a hug was difficult for her. And talking about feelings? A nightmare. And the same with planning special events. Tell her what to do, and she’d happily join in, but she wasn’t good at taking the reins. When I really thought about it, Menolly’s idea of romance was more skewed than mine. I was happy with a movie and popcorn on “date night,” but Menolly didn’t seem to understand why date night even had to exist.
She shrugged. “So what do I do? How do I get her to understand how hard this is for me?”
Out of patience, I put my hands on her shoulders and leaned down to stare her in the face. “For someone so smart, you can be a total ass, even if you are my sister. What do you do? You do what Nerissa wants.”
Menolly stared up at me, her eyes luminous in the night. She looked ready to argue. “Even though it makes no sense to me?”
Exasperated, I let go and shoved my hands back under the poncho to warm them up. “Get it straight once and for all: Marriage, in fact all serious relationships with or without the paper, require compromise. And this is where you bite the bullet and do what she wants. If you want Nerissa to be happy, then quit whining. Plan a nice evening—it’s not going to freaking kill you to take her on a moonlit picnic or something now and then. You’re married, not dead.”
I’d half expected her to go all fangy on me, but instead she looked like I’d struck her. “That’s a little harsh. Your claws are out, Kitten.”
“Menolly . . .” I struggled with a way to phrase it that wasn’t accusatory. “You guys have been going round and round for months on this issue. We’ve all heard it. You shut her out. She cries. You feel bad. Round and round it goes. I’m going to ask you a hard question now. If you just wanted a lover, why did you ask her to marry you? Why bother with the commitment if you don’t want to put the work into the relationship?”
A cloud formed across my sister’s face and I realized I may have gone too far. We walked in silence a little farther before she said, “If I were a guy, this wouldn’t be happening. People expect men to be silent and stoic.”
“Wrong again. If Smoky or Trillian or Morio acted like this, you think Camille wouldn’t have them by the balls? It’s not about whether you have a penis or a pussy . . . it’s about respect for something your partner needs. I’m sorry, I’m on Nerissa’s side on this one.”
But she was being bullheaded tonight, and when she dug in her heels, there was no reasoning with her. “I told you I didn’t want to talk, but you insisted.”
“Stop.” I’d had enough. “I’m going back to bed. I came downstairs with something important to tell you, but after dealing with not one, but two soap operas, forget it. You’re being unreasonable and I wouldn’t blame Nerissa if she walked out on you. Maybe it would do you some good if she did. In fact, if you’re so unhappy, then I suggest you take a break. Then, if she’s still around when you come to your senses, maybe you can ask her to forgive you. And if not, then your loss, not hers.”
Abruptly, I turned and marched back along the path.
“I didn’t say I was unhappy!” Her voice echoed behind me, but I trudged along without answering.
By the time I reached the house, I was feeling mildly guilty, but I knew that Menolly was stubborn enough that she’d have to figure this one out on her own. I just hoped that Nerissa would still be around when my sister saw how stupid she was being.
But as I headed toward the back porch, I found myself thinking about Shade. Yes, we were engaged, but we’d set no date yet. I knew what my future held—marriage to Shade and a child by the Autumn Lord. And to be honest, that scared the hell out of me. Being a mother, especially the mother to a child of an Elemental Lord, and a Harvestman, would be hellishly hard. Being Shade’s wife? Well, it was a lot more responsibility than just dating.
Do I even want to get married? I’d accepted my destiny. But had I really searched my feelings? I loved Shade. He was good for me. He made me laugh, and we had a lot of fun together.
I knew that I wanted children someday, but I’d always imagined a passel of werekittens running around. And I didn’t want to be a mother until I was ready. The fact was that until we were out of the demonic war, having babies was out of the question. I couldn’t focus on the enemy if I had to be worried about children. Being a private detective while having children? Doable. Fighting demons while being a mother? Not on my agenda.
As I entered the kitchen, I saw that Hanna was up again. She looked exhausted.
“Go back to bed, Hanna. Nobody in the ho
use is going to starve if you take a morning off. We can fend for ourselves.” Impulsively, I wrapped my arms around her from behind and hugged her. “We appreciate your work so much.”
She smiled then, softly. “I wonder, at times, if I can ever live up to Iris’s reputation. I know how much the woman means to you girls.”
“There will never be another Iris, but there won’t ever be another Hanna either. I can’t imagine life without either one of you. Hanna, you brought Camille safely down off that mountain. You saved her from Hyto. If you don’t realize just how much that means everything to us, you’re blind.”
Hanna yawned but a smile broke through her gloom. “I did what was right. I watched too many girls go to their deaths. Hyto . . . sometimes it still scares me when I see Lord Iampaatar, but then I remind myself that he is not his father.”
Smoky looked a lot like Hyto—in fact, so much so that Hyto had used the resemblance to trick Camille. Even though the psychotic dragon was dead, his memory would take a long time to fade.
“Smoky could never be like his father. I think he’d kill himself first.” I looked around the kitchen. I was as tired as Hanna, but given that she’d just broken off with Roz, I figured she came out on the worse-for-wear side of things. “Go back to sleep. I’ll start breakfast. I can make eggs and toast—I’m not that bad of a cook.”
“But toast and eggs won’t feed this army . . .” She protested even as I took hold of her shoulders and pointed her toward her room.
“Go. We’ll be fine. We have cheese, don’t we? And muffins?” I opened the refrigerator and peeked in. The shelves were loaded. Hanna was right—we were a small army and we went through a lot of food. “See? English muffins, eggs, cheese, and I see a stack of sausage patties in there ready to cook. I’ll make sausage muffin sandwiches, and we can have leftover fruit salad. That will work.”
Finally convinced, Hanna allowed me to shove her toward the hallway. “I’ll sleep another hour, then be up.”
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