Leela’s irises brightened as her lips ticked upward into another of those breathtaking grins.
“This is Bella,” she said, her palm gently caressing the velvety coat of the black-and-white boxer mix. “And this is Lola.” Her opposite hand went to the head of the fluffy, floppy-eared one.
“Bella and Lola,” he repeated, going into a crouch before Leela and placing himself slightly lower than the dogs.
Standing would be a little more intimidating, as his over-six-foot height certainly towered over their much shorter frames—even with the couch boosting their position.
Lola gave him a hesitant glance, uncertainty radiating from her light brown eyes. But Bella immediately lunged for him, her shorter snout armed and ready to lay claim to his face via licks of excitement.
He caught the beast—she was larger than he thought, maybe closer to eighty pounds of solid muscle—and let her love on him for a bit.
Lola was less eager but gave him a little nudge of permission to scratch the soft, feathery fur behind her ears.
“Ah, there you are,” a female voice said in Bulgarian. “Stop attacking my guests.”
“These are the types of attacks I enjoy,” he replied in the same language. “Licks full of love and devotion.”
And yes, that held an obvious double meaning, which he conveyed with a glance at Leela. But her focus remained on the fluffy creature at her side.
However, she’d heard him because she translated part of his statement in her thoughts, suggesting she knew at least a little bit of Bulgarian, or maybe another similar Slavic language.
“Mr. B,” Mrs. Spriggs said, her smile reaching her dark eyes. “Your room is ready. The little monsters stay here.”
“I’m not sure your little monsters are going to let Leela leave,” he mused as Lola gave his little vixen a big kiss on the nose. Leela laughed in response and ruffled up the pretty animal’s ears. Bella bumped Balthazar’s hand, telling him to pet her more. He obliged her while telling Mrs. Spriggs they would be up in a few minutes. She left the key with them instead, saying she was too tired to stay up and to make themselves at home.
Balthazar thanked her again, then indulged Leela in her version of fluffy heaven. “Do you have a pet?” he asked her after several minutes of cuddling Bella and Lola.
Leela shook her head. “I’m never in one place long enough to have one. You?”
“No. But several of the Hydraians have dogs and cats. Lara helps prolong their longevity. She has a cat, Pouncer, who is close to forty years old now.” The tigerlike house cat was notorious on the island for laying claim to various beds throughout the residential area, many of which were not meant to be cat beds. But everyone knew better than to move her.
“Lara, the healer?” Leela asked.
“The very one.” She was a younger Hydraian, but very useful. As Leela knew since she’d recently been healed by the Hydraian.
“I wasn’t sure if there was more than one. Lara’s a popular name.”
“In current times,” he agreed. “But we don’t have many current Hydraians.”
“True.” She leaned down to kiss Lola between the ears. “You’re a very good girl,” she cooed. Then she looked at Bella and said, “And you’re very good, too.” Both animals ate up the attention but eventually went to their respective beds in the living area to curl up together for a nap.
Balthazar took that as a sign to steal Leela away, even though she seemed perfectly content to just watch them.
“I arranged a room for the night,” he told her quietly. “But we’re not staying in it.” It was too risky for them to stay here. But he’d wanted to compensate Mrs. Spriggs for giving him access to her phone.
Unfortunately, that was also why they had to leave. Because the landline could be tracked far too easily.
And Patreel was still outside, something Balthazar knew since he could still hear the other man’s thoughts. He’d been flying around in ethereal form, mulling over everything he’d learned about Osiris and emotions and reformation.
Leela gave the pups one more wistful look before quietly standing and meeting his gaze. Her dreamy expression melted into firmer lines as a resolve clicked in her thoughts.
The snuggle session had given her clarity, a moment to think and process everything they’d learned. Which had allowed her to come to a conclusion.
“I want our memories back.” She spoke softly but with a conviction that reverberated through her mind. “I know that’ll likely involve remembering the horrors of reformation, too. But it’s a price I’m willing to pay to remember you.”
Part of him wanted to argue against that decision because he worried about how her mind would react to the trauma of her past.
But it wasn’t his choice. It was hers. And he would always respect that, no matter the cost.
