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Down below, Camille and Iris were in an uproar. Iris was grumbling what sounded like obscenities in some obscure Finnish dialect, while Camille was shaking her finger at me.
"You come down here this instant, Delilah! Do you hear me? I know you understand what I'm saying!" She rested her hands on her hips and glared at me.
Vaguely irritated, I let out a loud yowl. Just then, a noise startled me, and I swung my head, only to see Menolly hovering near me.
Damned… silent… vampire… whatever it was…
As she reached for me, whispering, "Here, Kitten, come with me," I decided to forgo the assist. If they wanted me out of the tree, I'd get out of the tree, but I'd do it my way. I gingerly pawed my way out on the branch, but it was too thin, and the next thing I knew, I lost my footing and went sliding down the slopes of Mount Fir in a wild ride, taking any and every ornament with me that was in my path.
Iris yelled something, and I heard Camille give a loud shout. The next thing I knew, I landed hard on the floor, and the shock jolted me so much that I abruptly began to shift back. Too quickly, it seemed, because I was still caught up in the tree limbs, and when my legs lengthened, I twisted wrong.
"Oh shit, look out!"
Menolly's voice cut through my brain fog. I blinked amid the pile of broken glass and boughs that I was lying in and looked over my shoulder just in time to see the twelve-foot fir sway as it gracefully toppled in my direction.
"Out of the way!" Camille screamed, and she and Iris ran for the hall. Menolly lurched midair and fell to the floor in a heap, her concentration broken. As for me, it was like being caught in a nightmare where I knew something horrible was about to happen but found myself paralyzed, unable to move as events played out in slow motion.
I ducked my head under my arm and pressed my face into the rug as the thundering fir, complete with decorations, landed across my back, covering me in a pile of scratchy branches and broken glass. The tub of water the tree had been sitting in tipped as well and streamed along the floor to soak my legs and feet. I breathed very slowly while I waited for the fallout to settle.
"Delilah! Delilah, are you okay?" Camille's frantic voice spiraled into a throaty shriek from the left side of the tree.
"Kitten? Kitten?" Menolly peered through the branches on the right side, though she was cautious to avoid any pointy limbs that might act as a natural stake. "You alive?"
I managed to croak out a reply. "If I wasn't, what would you do? Turn me into a vampire?">Taken aback, I stared at the bottle in my hand. That was an answer I hadn't expected.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound abrupt." I reached out and gently touched his arm. He gave me a long look, and I smiled. "I guess I'm just touchy. Okay, here's the thing. Trillian's an odd duck for a Svartan. He doesn't play by the rules, and he's done a lot of nasty things in his lifetime. But when it comes to Camille, he melts. He doesn't seem to care about her mixed bloodline, which is really strange, considering how elite the Svartans consider themselves. I guess he really does love her. And love isn't a word that applies to many Svartans."
Chase chewed on his lower lip. "It sounds like the Fae connect on a sexual level in a way that humans don't fully understand." He took on a pensive look. "What about you? Do you miss… being with your own kind?"
So that's what this was all about. Chase was fishing to find out whether I wanted to sleep with someone from Otherworld.
Someone not human. Which meant he really did care about me. Otherwise, it wouldn't matter.
When I thought about my reaction to Zachary, it occurred to me that perhaps Chase had a right to be worried. Shit, I so didn't want to think about all this today. I wanted to just shake it all off and say, "Relax! Does it have to be so complicated?" but I knew Chase would never go for that spiel. He wanted answers. The question was, would it matter to him what those answers turned out to be?
Frustrated, I tried to dodge the inevitable.
"Sex is a powerhouse of energy for the Fae. But when you talk about Svartans, it goes deeper than that. Sex is part of their very essence, and anybody they sleep with is in danger of becoming hooked. Camille willingly bound herself to the addiction. It suits her nature. It wouldn't work for me or Menolly. Then again, we have our own quirks when it comes to the bedroom."
I hadn't told Chase that I had sex with tomcats when I was in Were form. Somehow, I didn't think he was ready to hear that yet. As for Menolly, neither Camille nor I knew how she satisfied herself now that she was a vampire. I wasn't sure I wanted to know. The answer might scare the hell out of me.
I paused, then softly said, "Chase, you know I'm new to sex. You know I haven't slept with my father's kind yet. That may happen, and probably will. But for now, I'm with you. For now, I'm happy with that fact. I can't promise to be a one-man woman. Not yet. But I can promise that I'm being honest when I say I love being with you. You're a good man, and sexy, and I enjoy what we have together."
He grunted. The conversation had run its course.
"So, how do I get the varmint out of my house without getting skewered?" he said. "He makes me nervous."
"You could help him find an apartment. Trillian's brilliant, but he has no idea how to look for a place that both suits his needs and his coffers."
Chase snorted. "I love it when you talk all archaic, woman. Coffers; I haven't heard that in years. But you're probably right, though I don't know about the brilliant part. I'll get a copy of the classifieds and help him look. Maybe I can get him out of here in short order. Since he's Svartan, he can damned well turn on that charm and convince potential landlords to lower the rent."
I started to say, "What are you thinking?" but then shut my mouth. Chase and Trillian would be much happier when they ended the roommate shtick.
"I'd better get home," I said, looking at the clock. "And aren't you due back on duty soon. Detective?"
He flashed me a guilty grin. "Yeah, but it's been slow lately. Everyone's behaving themselves as far as I know. I'll run those names through the computer and give you a call later tonight when I see what I come up with. Oh—and what's your friend's name again? And her number? For the medics?"
"Siobhan Morgan. Her number is 555-7325."
