Harvest Hunting (14 page)

As I maneuvered the Jeep out of the parking lot, I thought about what she’d just said. “I don’t know. I can’t answer—not yet. Let me think about it for a while. In the meantime, what next?”

Camille frowned. “We go home and figure out what to do next. I also think that someone should pay a visit to Carter this evening and talk to him about Stacia, the training camp, and the best way to proceed. He seems to have his finger on the pulse of the Demonkin, and I trust him. In fact, let’s do that before we go home.”

“Are you
nuts
? Look at the shape you’re in. Sharah would kill you. And do you really want to visit Carter without taking Vanzir? Don’t you think that’s a little dangerous?” To be honest, I was intrigued. Carter fascinated me.

“I’ll be okay, I won’t do anything strenuous, and we’ll go home right afterward.” She fell silent, then said, “How are you doing now? You know . . . after seeing Chase.”

I flipped on my left blinker, and we turned onto the freeway, heading toward Carter’s. He didn’t live far from the FH-CSI building, not in relative terms. Barring bad traffic, we’d end up in his neighborhood in ten minutes.

“I’m trying to keep calm about the whole thing. There’s nothing I can do. If I tried to hang on to Chase, he’d come to resent me. If I argue and fight, then our connection with Chase will be strained, and that would not be a good thing. It was bad enough when I caught him with Erika.”

Erika had been trouble . . . or rather, Chase had gotten himself in trouble
with
her. A little voice in the back of my head whispered that, regardless of the fact that I’d forgiven him for lying to me, regardless of the fact that I’d decided to give our relationship another try, my trust in him had been permanently damaged.

The fact that he’d slept with her wasn’t the problem—it was the fact that he hid it, that he lied to me about it. I was beginning to think that maybe I wasn’t cut out for a monogamous relationship. Camille certainly wasn’t. Menolly wasn’t. Maybe I was more my father’s daughter than I’d tried to believe.

Camille let out a slow sigh. “I’m going to say something, and then I’m going to leave it alone. I’m pretty sure you’ll get an earful from Menolly when she gets you alone next and finds out what happened.”

I grimaced, but they were my sisters, and we nosed our way into each other’s lives all the time. “Go on.”

“I honestly don’t believe you were ever set up to make it with Chase. You’ve had a good run. You both gave it a good try, but I predict that the day he finds a woman willing to stay at home, have his children, and not make waves is the day he’ll really fall in love. Chase is a decent man, he’s a damned good cop, but he can’t give you what you need, Kitten. Not for
all
of your sides. And unlike my three men, I don’t think he’s truly willing to share you—not in the long run.”

She paused, then—as I remained silent—continued. “You’re a two-faced Were. More than that, you’re a
Death Maiden
, for the sake of the gods. As much as you want him to enter your world, even with the Nectar of Life, and even if he finds his own power, he’ll never be able to match you. Not unless his powers blow him sky-high. Better this happens now than twenty years down the line. Better this happens now, before you have a child with him.”

I stared at the road, watching the asphalt grind beneath the wheels of my Jeep. With every passing inch, with every foot of pavement that disappeared beneath us, I knew she was right. I’d known all along, which is why I felt conflicted when it came to Zachary and my sexual attraction toward him.

“What’s your opinion about Zach?” I asked quietly.

“You really want to hear?”

I nodded. “Yeah, give it to me.”

“He’s too frightened to be your mate. He’s scared. He doesn’t want to be out on the front line, and it wouldn’t be fair to put him there. Last time we did . . .” Her voice trailed off.

I blinked back tears. “Just say it: Last time we took him with us on a fight, he almost got killed, and he’s still in a wheelchair. Just part of our collateral damage,” I added bitterly. “He won’t even talk to me now, you know. He won’t answer the phone when I call; he won’t allow them to bring me back to his rehab room to see him in person.”

“That is his choice, Kitten, not yours.” She leaned her head against the back of the seat. “Of course, you feel horrible about his injuries. We all do. And I know you find him attractive, but be honest, Kitten.
You don’t love him.
That’s plain to see. If you did, you would have left Chase for him.”

“Yes but . . . we put him in danger.”

“True, but it was
his
choice to go with us. He was hurt saving Chase’s life—an action
he
decided to take. He is a hero, and a bad accident happened. But just because he was seriously injured doesn’t mean you owe him your life.
You can’t love him just because he’s paralyzed.
That wouldn’t be fair to either of you. And you know Zach wouldn’t want you that way.”

Hot tears welled up in my eyes. I blinked them away. I had never, ever vocalized how I felt about Zachary Lyonnesse’s injuries, but Camille hit the nail on the head. I felt guilty because I enjoyed him in bed, but I couldn’t fall in love with him. I felt guilty because he was hurt and in a wheelchair. I felt guilty because he wanted me to choose him . . . and now I was free, but I couldn’t do it.

“How’d you get to be so smart?” I muttered as I swerved onto the exit that would lead us to Carter’s home.

“I’m married to three men. I may not know how to run your computer all that well, I may not be able to kick ass like Menolly, my magic may be fucked-up part of the time, but trust me on this:
I know men.
And I know
you
.”

She laughed, throaty and full and rich, and my tension slid away like melting butter on a cob of corn. I inhaled a deep breath and willed the guilt to wash away, willed the pain to fade.

“So, even though Chase and I are . . . just friends now, you’re saying that it’s okay that I don’t turn to Zach.” I glanced over at her quickly, then back to the road. She was smiling.

“Think about it: Would you want to be picked by someone, knowing you were their second choice? In the long run, he’d hate you for it.”

“That makes sense. For a while, I felt that Chase had chosen me only after you told him in no uncertain terms that he’d never taste your pussy.”

“Oh no, you
didn’t
!” She coughed, laughing. “I can’t believe you just said that, Miss Priss.”

I laughed along with her. “Hey, it’s the truth,” I said as I turned onto the street leading to Carter’s. “Now, let’s go have a chat with the demonmeister and then get you home.”

And everything was okay. I might be alone again, but I wasn’t lonely. I had my sisters and my friends with me.

Carter opened the door, much to my surprise. It was usually his foster daughter Kim who bade us enter. She was halfsuccubus, half-human—in particular: of Chinese ancestry. Her mother—a full succubus—had abandoned her to be sold as a slave. Carter, demon of unknown origin, had bought Kim as a baby and raised her like a daughter. The girl was mute, though no one knew why, and she doted on her foster father, keeping house for him in the basement apartment of the ten-story brick building.

A narrow stairwell led to the apartment, but Carter had hired a powerful witch to erect a permanent grid of protection around the front of his home and the sidewalk and parking spaces near it. We could park in front of his place and never once worry about our cars being vandalized. I ended up half-carrying Camille down the steps, afraid she’d fall if I didn’t.

I glanced around. “Where’s Kim? She okay?”

If he looked surprised to see us, he didn’t indicate it. His red hair was in shocking disarray, but it was for effect, carefully groomed, and the long, curved horns rolled back off his head, coiling like an impala’s. Carter wore a brace on one knee and walked with a cane, but he was always elegant and suave.

“She’s out shopping,” he said. Bidding us to sit, he excused himself for a moment and slipped through the door that led to the kitchen.

Carter was an excellent host, and his living room was nothing less than an old-fashioned parlor, with richly upholstered sofa and chairs and solid, handcrafted tables. In one corner stood a huge desk where he did his research. An elaborate computer setup covered one entire side of it.

Camille and I sat down, gingerly looking around. This was the first time we’d been here without Vanzir accompanying us, and I could tell she was just as intimidated as I was. Carter’s powers remained unknown—at least to us—and I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out just what they were. At least, not the hard way. He was on our side, but with demons, you never knew.

Carter returned from the other room pushing a double-decker tea cart. Steaming tea and a plate of petit fours nestled on the top rack. On the lower, I caught a glimpse of two kittens, curled together, grooming each other. While both were predominantly white, one had cream markings on her and the other, a few splotches of black. Their hair was soft and medium-long and they were striking in their looks, solid for their age.

“You have cats!” For some reason this fact surprised me. Camille looked around, and I pointed to the tea cart.

He nodded. “Aegean cats, yes. They like people. Feel free to pet them. The cream and white is Roxy, the black and white, Lara.”

“Oh, how adorable! Look, Delilah!” Camille scooped up the cream one and snuggled her face against its fur.

I gave her a long look. “Not a good idea for
me
to pet them.
You
pet them. Have fun.” Although they were kittens, there was always the chance my Tabby self would get bent out of shape and protest. I smiled softly, wishing I could snuggle them, too, but better to err on the side of their safety.

Camille turned to me. “Oh, I wish we could have a few of these around.”

The look on her face sparked off a twinge of guilt, and I sighed. “If you stand ready, then hand one to me, and I’ll see how it goes.” I bit my lip, and she gently placed the black-and-white kitten in my hands and hovered over me.

The fur was so soft and the face so winsome. Even though a few of my defenses began to rise, I slipped under the kitten’s spell. I was about to hand it back to her when the baby let out a loud screech, startling me, and I quickly set it on the sofa. Before I knew what I was doing, I abruptly shifted into my tabby self and leapt up beside it. That mew had been a
need-Mommy
cry, and there was no mommy in sight.

I grabbed the kitten by the scruff of the neck and jumped onto the floor, carrying it with me as I crawled beneath a nearby end table. I gently held the baby down with one paw as I began to groom her face.

“Hold still,” I told her. “You need a good grooming, and you haven’t been doing it right.”

The kitten didn’t say anything, but she stared at me with such huge eyes that I found myself wanting to do everything I could to protect her. She began to purr, and I groomed harder. When Camille leaned down to haul me out, I growled. I knew my sister wasn’t going to hurt her, but no way in hell were they taking this kitten away from me.

“Delilah, Delilah? Honey? You have to change back. Please, don’t make us drag you out of there,” Camille said, holding out the other squirming kitten in her hands. “This little girl needs her sister.
Come on out, Delilah. Now.
”

Something about her tone caught my attention. Her voice was compelling, and though I didn’t want to listen, I had to obey. I tried to resist, but finally I gave in and slunk out from beneath the end table. The kitten followed me, batting my tail happily, and I didn’t even swat it. I didn’t even
want
to swat it.

While Carter corralled the kittens and put them in a playpen, Camille caught me up. She sat me on the sofa and waggled her finger at me. I batted it, and she laughed, petting me gently. As I relaxed, I realized that I was ready to change back and gently leapt out of her lap and off the sofa, crossing to an open spot on the floor.

I shifted again, slowly this time to avoid the swift kick in the muscles transforming too fast produced. The cramps from sudden shifting could be worse than a bad lactic acid buildup. I knelt on the floor until the chance for spasms had passed, then glanced up to see both Camille and Carter grinning at me.

Carter let out a soft chuckle when I cleared my throat. “Thank you for making my afternoon so amusing. Life in your household must be fun,” he said. “Well, my kittens are safe, and I trust you are all right, Delilah?”

I nodded, trying to figure out what had just happened. Normally I went after other cats, spoiling for a fight. “I guess their age makes a big difference.”

Camille’s eyes lit up. “Maybe this means we could have a couple babies? You could be their surrogate mother and—”

Hating to burst her bubble, I shook my head. “We’d better think about it long and hard. We don’t know how Maggie might react to them. For all we know, she might try to eat them.”