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First, the thought of him crawling nekkid at my feet in a ball-gag so made me cringe. Submissive men were not my cup of coffee. Even more daunting was the thought that Vanzir’s life hung on a whim. If my sisters and I or Iris ordered him to crawl on the floor and bark like a dog, he’d have to obey or the soul binder living right below the skin of his neck that bound him to us would kill him immediately. None of us were comfortable with the idea that his life—in fact, every action he made—was entirely within our control. But the cold truth was that Vanzir might as well be our slave. We owned him, body and soul, and we could kill him with the whisper of an order.
I shook my head. “Dude, just wear earplugs next time.”
Chase arched one eyebrow as he glanced up at Morio and me. “In Vanzir’s defense, you were really loud. It sounded like you were having a knock-down, drag-out fight up there.”
“And this bothers you because. . . ?” As Chase’s ears began to turn bright red, I relented. “Eh, get used to it, Johnson. And be happy you weren’t in there with us. If the worst we get are a few bruises, we’re happy.” Though I had to admit, there’d been a few times Morio had gotten a little too excited and I’d ended up with some nasty bites.
Chase grunted and took another sip from the beer he was holding. “Klingon sex.”
“Say what?” I must have looked confused because Delilah burst into giggles.
“Klingons—on Star Trek. They’re pretty much tear-it-up in the sex department, like you and Morio.”
“Not to interrupt this lovely discussion, but are you ready?” Menolly glanced at the clock. It was quarter of eight. “Iris is in the kitchen making a list of chores for us to do while she’s gone.”
Delilah grimaced. “I forgot to clean out my cat box again and she carried it up to my room and dumped it on my bed.”
Ugh. “Kitten, face it, you’ve become a professional slob. Not so nice. Not so appealing. And I’ve seen that room of yours—it’s no spring clean fling. Whatever happened to the idea that cats are supposed to be clean?”
Delilah shrugged. “I dunno—maybe it’s the human side of me.”
Chase cleared his throat. “Don’t go blaming your human blood. I’m an FBH and I’m not a slob.” He turned to me. “I tell her to clean up when she stays at my apartment and she does it.” Delilah started to protest but just then, Iris poked her head around the corner.
“I’m ready. The list is on the refrigerator. Don’t just look at it, okay? Actually get your butts in gear and do some of the chores. And take care of our little Maggie girl,” she added, leaning over to give the baby gargoyle a big fat kiss on the head.
“Iss . . . Iss . . . kiss me.” Maggie held her arms up for another, then looked at me. Her wings fluttered gently and I could tell she was worried. She’d gotten very clingy over the past couple of months and according to the book we’d been using on the care and feeding of woodland gargoyles, this was a phase she’d be in for some time. As in several years. “Camey—kiss?”
I joined Iris and planted a soft kiss on the Magster’s cheek. She giggled and gave me a wet smooch on the nose.
“Be good, little one. Be safe.”
Menolly grinned. “We’ll treat her like fine china.”
Suddenly near tears, I nodded, biting back the fear that rose in my throat. I wanted to go home, I desperately wanted to see Trillian and bring him back, but with all the danger in our lives, I was terrified that something would happen while I was gone. Something I might be able to prevent if I were here.
Iris patted me on the hand. “I know, girl. I feel it, too. These are uncertain times. The potential paths are merging at a rapid rate. Life is becoming a blur of possibilities and so many of them dark. But we must take this trip. I know it in my bones. You and Morio are headed toward another leg of Fate’s journey, and I . . . I have to confront something I left behind long, long ago, if I’m to be free of my past and able to move on with my future.”
We all gazed at her, but she fell silent—the silence that said, “Do not ask, I will not speak.” When Iris didn’t want to talk about something, nothing would pry the info out of her.
“Not to mention the most important thing: We need to bring Trillian home.” Morio wrapped his arm around my shoulder.
We were dressed for the road. I was wearing a spidersilk skirt that skimmed the tops of my granny boots, and a burgundy leather corset under my unicorn’s-hide cloak. The cloak had come with the horn of the Black Unicorn when I earned the right to use it. Now, against all common sense, my instincts urged me to wear it back to Otherworld, and to take the horn with me. The items would put me in danger from any number of mages and wizards who’d sell their grandmother’s pussy to own the artifact and cloak.
Morio was wearing black jeans and a turtleneck, and he’d slipped on a hip-length gray buccaneer’s jacket with silver buckles. His motorcycle boots came up over the legs of his jeans.
Iris had changed into a walking skirt, indigo blue in color, and a matching long-sleeved top. Over the sweater, she’d donned a thin chain tunic. The links weren’t steel, but some bespelled silver, and it radiated with a faint white light. Over that, she’d draped a short capelet with hood, and her ankle-length blond hair was woven into braids that were wrapped around her head.
“Have your weapons?” Delilah asked, suddenly serious. “I wish we were coming with you.”
“I wish you were, too, but you have to stay here and keep guard. We’ll give Father your love.” I parted the side-slit in my skirt to show her my dagger, strapped to my thigh by a leather garter. “I’ve got my dagger right here, and the horn is in its secret pocket.”
Morio winked at her. “I never go anywhere without my daggers, throwing knives, and various goodies.”
“I like your goodies,” I said, sidling up to him.
Roz stood up and rummaged through his coat, then handed us each a Ziploc bag. Within each pouch were several assorted magical bombs. One, I recognized as a firebomb, a couple garlic bombs, and several others that I wasn’t entirely familiar with.
“Here,” he said. “You’re going in short a few bodies, you might as well have some backup firepower.”
