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No. No, no, no. This was so wrong. “Kitten, listen to me. You can’t just let him guzzle it down. There are rituals that need to be performed when an FBH drinks the nectar of life. They must be prepared for the ramifications. You’re risking his sanity if you do it any other way.”
“But what can we do? Who would perform the ritual? You know nobody back home would. Even Father—even though he loved Mother and offered her the same chance, he’d never go for it. I don’t think he believes any men are good enough for us.” She looked ready to cry. “I just want Chase to feel like he’ll have the chance to be with me always.”
“Babe, you listen to me. Promise me you won’t do this—it’s rash and dangerous. If you give me your word, I promise to find someone who can guide you through the ritual. It won’t be by the equinox, but I will help you. I just want both of you to come through this safe and sane.”
Actually, what I wanted was for them to forget about it. Chase didn’t strike me as someone who could handle a thousand-year stint very well, but then, I could be wrong. I just knew that if they carried out their plans, our detective would go bye-bye, and in a very bad way.
She bit her lip, then finally nodded. “All right. But you promised to help me and I’m keeping you to it.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said, thinking about all the promises we’d made over the years, and how some of them were coming back to bite us in the butt. And then there were the promises that had been made to us, the ones that threatened to shatter at our feet.
Smoky, for one. Smoky and Morio and I were soul bound, but would that promise—that oath and binding—carry through the will of his family? He was waiting for me to come home, but with what news? Would he stay? Or would his family force him to return to the fold? Would he rip apart the bond that tied our souls together?
And if he stayed, Smoky and Trillian would come face-to-face again. Only now Smoky had a claim over me Trillian didn’t, and how would that shift the balance of power? Although I knew I should be thinking about our problems with the Bonecrusher, all I could think about as we climbed in the cars was the love that Smoky had offered me, and whether it would still be there when I got home.
CHAPTER 19
The lights in the house were a welcome sight as we drove up through the ever-pounding rain. Parts of the path bordering the driveway were a mud bath, and I was grateful we’d thought to have the actual drive graveled. I stepped out of the car and looked at the house.
Morio rested a hand against my back and even Trillian seemed to sense my mood. He took my other hand.
“No matter what, Camille, you belong to me. No matter who else you’re bound to, you and I will always be together,” he whispered.
Morio heard. He gave Trillian a long look and said, “Me, too. You go in, we’ll head out to the studio and hang out until you’ve had your talk.” He motioned to Roz and Vanzir and the four of them headed off to the shed-turned-studio apartment that we’d had outfitted. Our little family had expanded by more than half and the added space made a world of difference.
Iris, Bruce, and Delilah were still standing beside me.
“I’m going to scout the perimeter of the land,” Delilah said.
“But the wards were shining strong when we came in,” I said, then stopped. She was offering me privacy. “Thanks, hon.”
Iris took Bruce’s hand. “We’ll go in the back way and have a snack, then put Maggie to bed. Smoky said he’d be in the parlor.”
The parlor. Not our bedroom. That didn’t bode well. I sucked in a deep breath and strode up the stairs, my footsteps firm, shoulders back. If it was bad news, I’d take it like a D’Artigo—I’d suck it up and deal with it the way I dealt with all the pain in my life. I’d push it out of the way and move on, because there weren’t really any other options.
I slipped into the living room. The door to the parlor was ajar and I could smell him there. Smoky. He smelled like cedar and cinnamon and old library dust. My heart leaping into my chest, I slowly pushed the door open.
Smoky was standing there, waiting for me, his gaze fastened on the doorway. He stared at me for what seemed like a million years, then his lip curved in a triumphant smile and he opened his arms.
“Camille, my Camille. I’m back.”
Not trusting what that meant, but praying it meant what I thought it did, I dropped everything and flew into his embrace. He swung me up and around, covering my face with kisses, his lips soft and passionate. I grabbed him around the neck and held on, letting him spin me at a dizzying speed.
“I love you, I love you, and I’m home,” he said. “My Camille, I told you nothing would part us.”
“I love you, too, but can you please put me down?” As ecstatic as I was, my stomach was beginning to shift into queasy from the makeshift carousel ride.
He abruptly stopped and dropped into the loveseat, pulling me down on his lap. I cuddled against him, resting my head on his shoulder as he gently kissed the top of my head, my forehead, my nose.
“So you’re staying? You aren’t going back to the Northlands? You aren’t going to marry Hotlips?” My voice broke over the last one and regardless of my decision to be calm and collected, I burst into tears.
“Sweet one, oh my lovely one.” He cupped my chin in his hand and gazed into my eyes. “I’ve made you cry. I’m sorry.” Wiping away my tears, his masks dropped and the millennia passed through his eyes, this thousands-year-old beast I’d fallen in love with.
“No, I’m not leaving you. I told you I wouldn’t. I’d part ways with my family if I had to. But Hotlips has been paid off. She’s of no concern to us now. My mother wasn’t terribly thrilled but she’s . . . she’s not my father.” His voice dropped and I glanced up to see a cloud cross those glacial eyes.
“What happened?” I asked, pushing myself off his lap. “Are you okay? Did they kick you out?”
He shook his head. “No. No, as a matter of fact, the Dragon Council was so appreciative of the news about Shadow Wing that they gave us their blessing. Basically, they told Hotlips to take the money and shut up.”
