by Molly Harper
“Yes, she did. Keep your hands out of my towels and delicates.”
“I fold laundry because I care!” Clarissa exclaimed.
“I can fold my own clothes, thank you. It’s enough knowing that you’re here and I can sleep…” Dani sighed, the weight of her fatigue dragging on her shoulders like a living thing. “That’s a really difficult thing to admit, that you’re afraid to sleep without a mama bear standing guard over you, to protect you from the scary things in the dark.”
“Aw, bebelle. There’s nothing wrong with asking for help. And there’s nothing wrong with being scared, especially after what you’ve been through. It’s normal, and healthy. If you weren’t nervous about the dark, I’d be worried about what’s going on in your head. Mama bears were made to guard against scary things.” Clarissa paused to place one of her massive hands on Dani’s shoulder. “Let me do this for you now, and in a while, you’ll be strong enough to do it for someone else.”
“Thanks, Clarissa.”
“Pas de tracas, darling.”
Dani sniffed. “Just leave the apples alone, except maybe to stir them every once in a while. And don’t mess with the heat.”
Clarissa sat down at the table and peered over her reading glasses at Dani. “You are bossy when you’re tired.”
“Yes, I am.
Dani slept soundly for hours in the swinging bed, finally catching up on the rest she needed to reset her brain. She woke to the smell of stewing apples and the sound of feminine laughter from her kitchen.
Pulling her heavy hair into a bun, off of her neck, Dani walked down her stairs and heard Jillian’s voice say, “I always thought it was you that kept Zed’s den all neat and compulsively tidy!”
“Oh, no, honey, ever since he was a cub, Zed has had a sort of obsessive compulsive need to organize everything. I never had to clean his room when he was little. He kept all of his toys lined up in perfect little lines.”
“Zed?” Jillian asked.
“Have you ever seen his DVD collection? He has this massive selection of action movies and they’re all categorized by genre and alphabetized by the last name of the lead actor. His Gerard Butler section is shameful.” Clarissa clucked her tongue.
“For more reasons than one,” Jillian muttered.
Dani paused at her kitchen door, taking in the sight of her boss and her . . . booty call’s mother drinking tea at her table. “Are you like gremlins? I feed one of you and you multiply?”
Jillian flushed guiltily. “I just wanted to check on you. I know it’s been a couple of days since you’ve been out to the rift and I wanted to make sure you still want to fulfill your contract. I would understand if you didn’t…”
“No, no,” said Dani. “I’m still on the job. I just needed to get everything recalibrated in my head. Otherwise it would be dangerous for me to work on the rift.”
“Thank goodness,” said Jillian. “I didn’t want you to leave! You laugh at my jokes.”
“Really? That’s my qualifier?”
Jillian shrugged. Dani lifted the lid from the pot, pausing for a moment to enjoy the perfume of nearly liquefied apples. She suddenly wanted to call Trudy very badly. Since Lottie didn’t have a potato masher, Dani took a heavy wooden spoon and stirred it with all of her might. The braised fruit broke down into a smooth spicy sauce.
“And I’d like to point out, you haven’t fed me yet,” said Clarissa.
“You know, gremlins get a bad rap,” said Jillian. “They’re actually pretty benevolent. Most of the time when people see them, they’re trying to help fix the mechanical problem that’s taking down the plane or train or whatever.”
Dani pursed her lips. “Again, it’s weird that you know that.”
Jillian nodded primly. “I accept your premise.”
Clarissa sighed as Dani dished up two piping hot bowls of applesauce. “This is very nice for me. I mean, I enjoy my time with my boys, but there’s something to be said for the company of ladies.”
“There’s probably significantly less belching,” Jillian said.
“It reminds me of nights in the kitchen with my grandmother and my aunt, when I was growing up,” said Dani. “Grandad would fall asleep in his recliner while we were washing dishes and we would sit in the kitchen eating dessert and talking.”
“That sounds nice,” Clarissa said, patting Dani’s hand. “Do you get to visit home very often? Your grandparents must miss you.”
“Not as often as I like,” Dani said, glancing toward Jillian’s hand and spotting a rather large diamond ring set in a gold band etched with dragon scales. “What the hell is that?!”
“Oh, yes.” Jillian stretched out her fingers, admiring her ring, and trying to sound casual. “Bael proposed.”
Clarissa squealed. “Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you!”
“Thanks. It means a lot. Since Bael’s family isn’t really talking to him, you and Bael and Mel are going to be the only family we have at the wedding. It’s not like I can invite my parents here. It’s not like I would want to.”
“Are you going to have the full dragon bonding ceremony?” Clarissa asked.
“I don’t even know what that means. I think my wedding planning is going to involve more research than the average ceremony.”
“Congratulations, Jillian,” Dani said. “Was it one of those flash mob proposals with surprisingly organized singing and dancing?”
“No, he just took me out to the water and showed me the ring and…” Jillian’s cheeks went pink. “Said some pretty mushy stuff. I’ll spare you the details. And he asked me to marry him.”
“What kind of stone is that?” Dani asked. “It’s sort of gray for a diamond.”
Jillian frowned. “You know, he didn’t say…”
“I’m sorry we don’t have champagne for a toast,” said Dani.
“Homemade applesauce is a much cozier substitute,” Jillian replied.
Clarissa moaned around her spoon. “It is really good.”
“If you’re nice to me, I’ll make you an apple crumble.” Dani scooped a spoonful of applesauce into her mouth.
“Does not mentioning the fact that you’re banging my son count as nice?”
Dani coughed, splattering applesauce down the side of Jillian’s face.
“Ew.” Jillian wiped her face with a napkin as Clarissa cackled. “Is this some sort of shifter congratulatory ritual I didn’t know about?”
“Sorry. Not cool, Clarissa,” Dani said.
Clarissa snickered as she took another bite of applesauce. “I’m so sorry, but your face!”
“Okay, you want to play that game?” Dani responded. “Let’s talk about your sex life with Mel.”
Clarissa spluttered, sending another mouthful of applesauce at Jillian, who shouted, “Oh, come on!”
11
Zed
Zed answered the door wrapped in a towel, holding a rubber fish.
It was his house and he would answer the door any way he pleased.
Of course, his house was more of a stone mound, a sturdy tin roof and a large steel door. But still, he would answer that steel door any way he pleased. And he found Dani waiting for him on the other side. He smiled at her, ridiculously happy to see his favorite girl on his porch.
“Um, did I interrupt something?” she asked.
“No, I just like wandering around my den wearing nothing but a towel.”
She laughed, kissing him soundly. “Why don’t you ever do that at my house?”
He dragged her into the house, thrilled to finally have Dani in his territory. The walls were stucco, painted in varying shades of gray, and unbroken by windows. There was a living room with a ridiculously large TV and a very large collection of DVDs. He led Dani through a door on the left where the bedroom floor sunk to a point in the middle of the room, like a burrow, and was lined with furs, pillows, and blankets. There were candles in hurricane shades on a lot of different surfaces, most of them lightly scented with honey and lemon. In the
far corner of the room there was a sunken tub, already filled and churning with water.
“So I caught you in the middle of a bubble bath?”
Zed cleared his throat, striking a manly pose. “Do you see bubbles, abeille?”
She nodded toward the lip of the tub, at a bottle of bubble bath with a giant bee on it. “No, because you haven’t added them yet.”
Zed snatched the bottle of bubble bath and hid it behind his back. “I told you. I prefer baths to showers. For. Reasons.”
“Do I even want to know what the rubber fish is for?”
“Bears don’t have rubber duckies at bath time, we have fish. It’s how cubs learn to catch,” he said, his tone defensive.
“Aw, that’s so sweet . . . and weird,” she said, giggling.
“Do you want to take a bath?”
“Do I get the rubber fish?”
He shook his head. “No, Herr Scalesnstuff is mine, but I’ll let you borrow Dr. Squeakenstein.”
Dani snickered. “Of course, they have names.”
“You are far too overdressed for a bath. Let me help with that.”
Smiling, he stripped her out of her clothes, tossing them aside in a trail leading to the tub. She yanked at his towel, dropping it next to her clothes, and he felt a good portion of his blood head southward.
They slid into the tub, the hot water taking their bodies. Dani sighed, dipping her head back to wet her hair. He gathered her into his arms, sliding his hands down her wet skin. She was sleek as a seal, her breasts bobbing delightfully in the currents.
Zed bit lightly at the curve of her jaw, lifting her arm so he could watch the water paint rivulets against her skin. His hands mapped the curves of her, soft and rounded and all his for the taking. He kissed every bit of her, from her ears to the tips of her toes.
Her lips were wet, warm and soft as they finally closed over his, and he groaned into her mouth. They played and splashed like a couple of cubs, kissing and touching and laughing. He found he didn’t mind drawing things out a bit, rather than getting to the main event. He could spend all day, warm and naked and clean with Dani, especially if her breasts continued to move in the water like that.
Dani swam into his lap, settling her knees on the little rock bench where he was seated. She looped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. She fit against his body like no other woman had, without worries of crushing her and hurting her. His Dani was strong in ways that should probably have terrified him, but all he wanted to do was test that strength.
He slid his fingers between her thighs, finding her wet and ready. He rubbed his fingers against her in small circles, his thumb searching for the firm little button of flesh that could help him produce such absolutely charming noises from her long white throat. He caressed and kneaded, feeling her slick against the fingers he pressed inside her.
Her hands scrabbled against his chest and she bucked her hips. She cried out, mouth pink and rounded, as he pumped those fingers in and out. He caught her nipples between his blunt teeth, worrying them with his tongue. And when those first flutters spasmed around his fingers, her howl was music to his ears. He pushed her through the orgasm, relishing each ripple around his digits, and hoped he might be able to spark another one right after. But then her body felt oddly weightless as he lifted her against the hard stone edge of the tub.
She kissed him, long and hard, leaving him short of breath. “Thank you.”
“Thank you?” he repeated, chuckling.
“I have lovely sex manners.”
Zed kissed her while she laughed. “Well, of course, you do.”
He pressed his forehead against hers, pushed forward slowly, filling her, making her gasp. She was hot and wet and so very tight and he stayed brick still to keep from losing himself right there.
His arms braced against the rim and she gripped them for leverage. She whimpered, rolling her hips against his straining, still form. The water splashed over the edge of the tub with every movement, but the clean up later would be worth it. He would mop the whole damn house gladly. She wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling herself up so she could kiss him and roll her hips against him. He couldn’t tell where her wetness began and the water ended and all he could think about was more more more. She crossed her ankles at the small of his back and pulled him closer and he welcomed it.
He reached down with his free hand, and traced the lines of her body from her collarbone, between her breasts, over the curve of her belly and dipping between her thighs to bring her to the edge again.
“I think you might kill me,” she moaned.
“But it will be a fun way to go,” he told her, snapping his hips.
She nodded and he could feel her tightening around him once more. A coil of pleasure sparked to life at the base of his spine, and he could feel it building, echoing the ripples of the water around them. Knowing he was close, his rubbing became even more frantic, because he was not going to leave her unsatisfied. He plucked and soothed and stroked, until he felt her slide into one last good climax. She screamed, her nails digging into his arms. He bent and propped his forehead against hers, his hips stuttering to their conclusion.
They stayed, joined together under the water, breathing heavily, waiting for their hearts to stop pounding. Zed carefully slid out of her, cradling her against his chest while her feet floated freely. As her breathing returned to normal, he poured his honey-and-milk shampoo into his hand and working it through her hair. She was practically purring by the time he worked the lather all the way down to the tips.
“You are the very best person to have water sex with.”
“Thank you, it’s true,” he agreed.
She snorted.
He formed her hair into a thick, foamy coil on top of her head, and then tried to make it stand up like the Eiffel Tower. That was what you did in adult relationships, right?
“So that thing you said about your urge to publish being hereditary, what did that mean?” he asked.
“You picked up on that one little detail weeks ago and held on to it? And chose to bring it up now?”
“You don’t hold still long enough for me to ask you questions most of the time!”
She conceded, “This is also true.”
“Come on. Tell me something real.” Zed took the cup that he used for his own hair-washing and filled it with water, rinsing out her hair.
“Okay, so, I originally studied physics in college, which is how I got interested in my talent in the first place, kinetic energy and all that. But I knew that I wasn’t interested in getting my PhD. My mom has several of them, and they don’t seem to have made her any happier. But I do like to write academic papers, which is why I’m working on the book. You know, publish or perish, that whole thing.”
Zed stared at her, remembering the process Jillian had described in getting her own PhD. “Your mother has several doctorates?”
She jerked her shoulders. “Yeah, she’s this Cannon Award-winning astronomer, who has spent her entire life studying neutron stars. She went out to the desert so she could watch some sort of meteor shower and she met my dad, a hippie who renamed himself Journey. They spent three days having sex under the open sky and nine months later my mother named me for the morning star.”
“Well, considering your dad’s name is Journey, it could have been worse.”
“Oh, he wasn’t around for my birth. He wasn’t around for the first two years, really. My parents never married, thank God. That would have been the real nightmare. But my mom handed me over when I was almost three. I sort of bounced as a toddler, between dad and my grandparents. Dad spent a lot of time traveling, and found it very convenient to leave me in Wisconsin with them.”
“You never stayed with your mom?” Zed asked.
“Well, astronomy labs aren’t exactly child-friendly. The expensive equipment, the extremely sensitive telescopes. And she moved around a lot, depending on who was funding her research. My grandparents wanted me to have some stability.
And she really preferred quiet, stress-free home environments, so she could focus. That Nobel prize isn’t going to win itself, you know.”
“Do you still talk to her?”
She nodded. “Oh, sure, once or twice a year on the phone. She’s not a bad person, just very self-centered. She wasn’t and never will be ready to be a parent. I was lucky that she chose to leave me with people who were prepared to raise me.
Zed wrapped an arm around her. “And your dad?”
“I traveled around with him a bit when I was a teenager, during the summers. I saw a lot more of the world than most kids at my high school. But eventually, my grandparents stopped agreeing to his trips. You can only tolerate your granddaughter being questioned by customs authorities in Amsterdam so many times before you have to draw a line. Dad’s a bit of a hot mess,” she admitted. “I haven’t seen Journey much since, which is fine, because he’s not someone I enjoy spending time with. You would think I would have weird abandonment issues, considering that both my parents left me behind. But I’m pretty well adjusted, except for this little thing where I run from emotional intimacy like my hair is on fire.”
“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”
Dani slung a wet wash cloth at him. Zed caught the wet terrycloth before it smacked him in the face, twining his fingers through hers.
“So you grew up in Wisconsin?”
Dani grinned. “On an apple farm, of all things. It’s really beautiful there.”
“Never took you for a farm girl.”
“There’s plenty of physics to study when milking a cow, plowing a field, calculating how hard you have to throw an apple to hit your smartass aunt in the back of the head, while she’s driving away on a tractor.”
Zed peered down at her, so Dani added. “The answer is ‘pretty hard.’”
“What does your family make of your gift?”
Dani sighed. “They don’t know much about it. No one else in my family has gifts. I thought I was either going crazy or seeing ghosts when I was a kid, because I could see and feel all this energy swirling around the house—streaks of green and blue light dancing down the hallway, sheets of yellow warmth hovering over the orchard. And I was afraid to say anything to my grandparents because they were already watching me for all these signs of psychological trauma because of my parents’ general jackassery. I was afraid they would send me to a mental health facility, which would have really hindered my middle school social life. So I did some research, ended up in some rather weird internet forums, read some books and I realized that nothing I was seeing fit the pattern of hauntings or ghosts. I was just reading the energy currents surrounding my grandparents’ house. It was a lot less scary than thinking the ghost of apple pickers’ past were hanging around outside my window.”