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I leaned in, kissing her bellybutton, trailing my lips down toward the downy patch of hair between her thighs. Her thatch was trimmed in a delicate “V” and I lingered over it, nosing her gently, as she slid farther down, opening up more to allow me to fully explore her sex. I pressed my lips against hers, gently opening her up, tonguing the budding clitoris that I knew so well.

I’d always known that I preferred women—though when I was young, I thought I’d marry, and perhaps take a mistress on the side. But my first glance had always gone toward women. Camille recognized it before anybody, and one night she sat me down and asked me point-blank. Mother had been dead for some time, and Father was still oblivious, mired in his grief.

Back in Otherworld, loving someone of the same sex wasn’t a big deal. The only time it caused problems was if you were of royal blood and expected to produce an heir. Then, you were expected to marry, reproduce, and, if you wanted, take lovers on the side.

As with Earthside, marriages among the royalty—and even some tradesmen—were more for convenience and economy than for love. Luckily I hadn’t had to worry about that. We weren’t royalty and, being half-breeds, the three of us weren’t likely to be considered for important nuptials.

Nerissa moaned as I nuzzled, grasping her ass with my hands as I held her firm. With a quick, sharp cry, she came hard. I looked up at her, rubbing her thighs softly as she caught her breath.

She gave me a sleepy smile. “Your turn?”

I could tell she was tired, so I shook my head. “I’m happy just pleasing you, tonight. Truly. Curl up under the covers again.” I snuggled next to her and she stroked my hair as I leaned my head on her lap. “You’re my heart-mate.”

“I know,” she whispered. “And you are the only woman in the world for me. I can’t imagine loving anyone else.” A yawn escaped her and she blinked, sighing deeply. “What happened tonight? Everything sounded so tense from your texts.”

It was almost four. I really didn’t want to go over it all again. “You sleep, love. Ask them at breakfast and they’ll tell you. Or Chase can fill you in. He was there with us last night. Meanwhile, I think I need some time to just relax and meditate before the sun calls me to sleep. Do you mind so much?”

She pulled the covers up around her neck and rested her head back on the pillow. “Not a problem, my love. So you like the wedding dresses?” Again, she yawned and sounded like she was already drifting off to sleep.

I kissed her on the forehead and made sure she was tucked in. “I love them. And I promise, I’ll find us a lovely spot to get married in. Sleep now, and rest…and dream deep.”

And with that, I blew out the candles. Nerissa was snoring lightly as I left the room, closing the door behind me.

Once downstairs, I made one last call for the night, to Roman.

He answered immediately. “Are you all right? Was it your friend Andrees?”

“Yeah, it was.” We’d been so busy, I’d almost forgotten, but now the reality came crashing back and I wondered if we’d ever find out who killed the agent. “Chase thinks he was killed execution-style. But his body was maimed after death, and Mallen doesn’t think it’s by the same person who killed him. He was found near the rogue portal in Tangleroot Park.”

I paused, staring at the print on my wall. It was a framed reproduction of Monet’s Water Lilies. I loved it. The painting made me happy; it helped me focus when I meditated.

After a moment, I said, “Roman, I have something to ask you. I need to break a bond and I’m wondering if you can help me do it.” I told him about what had happened with Morio and the blood transfusion that had saved his life. “I love Morio, but like a brother. I don’t like feeling pulled toward him and I know that, even though Camille would understand, it would still strain the relationship. Plus, all I can handle right now is one fiancée and one lover.”

He laughed. “Yes, I can see that. There is a ritual to break a blood bond that isn’t brought about through turning someone.”

“Do both participants need to be there?” I hoped not. If I could do it with as little fuss as possible, all the better.

“Actually, no. But you’ll need to come to me. There are…delicate computations to make. I will need to call on someone. Can you come over around six thirty? Shortly after sunset?”

“Unless we find…well…what we’re looking for. But I’ll need to talk to my sisters first about what they’ve discovered during the day before I come over. Say seven thirty?” And with a few murmured endearments, I hung up. It had been a very long night, and all I could hope for was a sleep untouched by demons and ghosts and memories of the past. I pulled out my yoga mat and went through several of the poses that most relaxed me. My body didn’t need workouts, but the routine comforted me.

Finally, as the sunrise began its siren song, I slipped under the covers and, thinking of Nerissa and how much I loved her, I slipped into an oblivious slumber.

As I entered the kitchen, I was greeted with the sight of a fox chasing two cats—one a ghost cat and the other, obviously Delilah. Snickers was curled up on the windowsill, asleep.

Maggie was in her playpen, clapping and shrieking. Iris was standing on a chair with an upturned pie on the floor at her feet, and Camille was chasing what looked like a giant rat around with a frying pan. A scorch mark in the wall told me she’d already tried magic. Then I realized the fox and the cats were actually chasing the rat, too.

“Whoa there, Tex!” I motioned for Camille to stand back, then stepped over the splattered apple pie and swooped down to grab up the rat, which promptly bit me three times before it turned a terrified face to me. It was kind of cute, actually, and it didn’t look like it had rabies. I stroked its head and it slowly calmed down and settled against me.

Camille whistled to Misty, who jumped on the table and shook her ghostly plume of a tail. Delilah leaped up with her, looking bereft at me, yowling her head off. Iris let out a long sigh as she held on to the back of the chair and lightly jumped to the ground. Morio—in fox form—whined at the door, and Camille opened it. He bounded out and ran off into the yard. At that moment, Hanna came in from the laundry room, a big basket of laundry in hand.

“My pie…” Iris knelt down by the overturned tin and began scraping the remains of the pie back into it. “Well, we’ll have to make do with three pies instead of four. That means no third helpings.” She tossed the pan on the counter as Camille brought over a sponge and paper towels.

Hanna stared at the rat in my arms. “What will you do with that creature? I won’t have rats in my kitchen.”

Iris cleared her throat. “My kitchen, thank you. At least until my house is built. But I agree. Menolly, you can’t keep that creature in here and if you put it outside it will only invite its family in.”

Delilah, who had been staring up at me with big round eyes, let out another yowl and then proceeded to make several odd chirps and noises. The rat chattered back at her. As we all stared at the pair, Delilah shifted back into herself.

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