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“Fine. Where to?” I limped over to Morio, my knee aching. I’d bruised myself pretty good when I dove to avoid the blast.
“Are you hurting?” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and fastened his lips on mine, giving me a long, luxurious kiss, playing lightly over my tongue with his own. Morio might be on the slender side, and he wasn’t the tallest of my lovers, but oh Mama, he had one hell of a hot body.
“Not so much that you couldn’t kiss it and make it better,” I whispered, pressing against him as my fingers traveled to his nether regions. I brushed my hand against the front of his pants, inhaling deeply as I felt him harden behind the loose material.
“Stop that,” he whispered with a grin. “We’ve got work to do.”
“I need you,” I whispered back. Magic and cheating death were two of my favorite aphrodisiacs. Combine the two and I was ready to rumble, tear off my clothes, break the bed horny.
“Patience. Patience,” he said, nibbling my ear. “When we get home, Smoky and I’ll give you what you crave, love.”
I danced away from him. “Then let’s get this wrapped up. The sooner we’re done, the sooner the two of you can play a duet on me.” I loved both of my husbands. And together, they could do a number on me that sent me into orbit. Sex had become a cornucopia of delights and once Trillian, my alpha lover, returned, I expected to be the happiest woman in both Otherworld and Earthside. As long as Trillian didn’t blow up over finding out I’d married Smoky and Morio. He knew they were my lovers, but formalizing the relationships might be enough to send him over the edge. Not so much with Morio, but Smoky—big testosterone wars had been looming when Trillian was called away.
“It’s a deal,” Morio said.
Laughing, I followed him out of the mausoleum. Spirit-dude wasn’t tagging along behind us for a change. In fact, he was hanging back, looking right and left as if he was trying to decide which way to vamoose.
“What about the ghost? He’s kind of a must-have during the ritual.”
Morio shrugged. “Don’t worry. He’ll be there. He can’t refuse.”
As he spoke, the spirit slipped around the corner into a narrow hallway that led farther into the Wedgewood Cemetery mausoleum. We watched as he disappeared from view.
I shook my head. “Does he really think he can get away that easy? He has to know that the only reason he’s here is because we summoned him. And because we summoned him, he’s magically bound to stick near us until we’re done with him. Or give him another body to roam around in.”
“Maybe he’s an optimist,” Morio said. “Come on, let’s get outside and send him back to where he belongs.” He shivered as a blast of cold air hit us. “We can’t be expecting a frost yet—it’s not even the equinox.”
“Autumn’s already here,” I said. “Trust me. And winter’s going to be a doozy.”
As we slipped out of the mausoleum, a wash of moonlight splashed across our path. The wind was rising but the wind-chill made it feel colder than it was. The temperature barely kissed forty-five degrees and the scent of moisture hung heavy in the air. The storm was coming in fast, and before the hour was over we’d be facing a downpour as the early autumn rains hit Seattle.
I inhaled a long, slow breath to steady myself as the rich scent of loam and moss washed through me, buoying me with the magic rife within their essences. The Earth Mother had been speaking all evening, the slow, steady pulse of her heart tripping a steady cadence beneath my feet.
We traipsed back to the altar we’d arranged on a stone bench behind a patch of rhododendrons. A few yards from the mausoleum, the rectangular dais rose about eighteen inches off the ground. On the left side of the bench Morio had placed a black pillar candle, and on the right—an ivory one. Their flames flickered in the steady breeze. In our absence, wax had puddled down the sides to form rings at their bases on the granite slab. Oh yeah, that was neat and tidy. Note to self: Next time, bring candleholders.
Beside the black candle rested an obsidian dagger, its blade gleaming in the soft glow from the candle flame. The hilt was carved from a yew branch and a nimbus of violet light gently pulsated around the blade.
Next to the ivory candle stood a crystal chalice filled with dark wine. It looked like blood, but was actually a robust merlot.
“Well, well, well, the demon brat and the Faerie slut finally remember me and come waltzing in like queens in a drag show. I thought you’d never get your asses back here.” A faint voice echoed from a branch on the rhododendron. “Where the fuck have you two nincompoops been?”
I grimaced. The skeleton was all of twelve inches tall. Perched on the branch, he was holding onto the leaf next to him. Grandmother Coyote had loaned him to Morio. The creature was actually a golem of sorts, created from bits of bone and then animated and given a sense of intelligence. Whether she’d made him, or found him, I didn’t know. And I wasn’t going to ask. Pry into the private affairs of the Hags of Fate? Not so much.
“Shut up, Rodney.” Morio frowned. The miniature miscreant was a smartass. And foul-mouthed at that.
“You want my help or not, you bitches?” Faint bluish lights glimmered in his eye sockets and he sounded a little bit overexcited.
Morio thumped him lightly on the skull, almost knocking him off the bough. “Chill, little bone man. So, did anybody pass by while we were inside?” Morio glanced at me, and by the look on his face, I could see he wasn’t all that thrilled about Rodney’s help, either.
“Watch it!” Rodney steadied himself. “Nope. You’re home free.”
Morio grinned. “Good. Back in the box.” He held out a carved wooden box that looked for all the world like a miniature coffin. The lid was open and the inside was lined with thick, purple velvet padding.
“Fuck a duck.” Rodney let out a long huff. “Do I have to?”
“Yes,” Morio said.
Rodney slowly lifted his middle finger and flashed it at us, then lithely leapt into the box, lay down, and the light faded from his eyes. Morio flipped the lid shut and locked it.
