Page 122 of Hoofin’ It

“My pride may never recover.”

“You’ll live. Make yourself comfortable, cuddle with your lady, and relax. You’ll tell Abil Ili everything that’s happened from your first meeting with Marian. Then we’ll decide how to deal with the people who’ve brought murder onto the Babylonian’s doorstep. It’ll be interesting.”

I worried when a vampire thousands of years old thought something was interesting. “All right.”

Wading through the pillows to Marian, I slid beneath her until her head rested on my chest. I cradled her on my lap and, with a little help from Quinton, propped myself up with cushions. To make sure I was the only one to see every perfect inch of Marian, I tucked her towel around her securely.

“Why don’t you wake her up? That way, we can get her acclimated to Abil Ili before bringing in the others—or more accurately, having them reveal themselves.” Quinton nodded towards a column, and I caught a faint shimmer near a golden crystal sticking out of the wall.

A few gentle slaps against her cheek roused her, and when she snuggled close to me, I decided I wasn’t in any hurry for her to wake up. Smiling at her warmth and the way she wiggled, I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her. Still, the vampire was right. She needed to be alert—and calm. “Marian?”

“The tentacles have claws,” she mumbled.

“His name is Abil Ili, and he’s a Babylonian.” I rubbed her back and leaned over so I could kiss her forehead. “He startled me, too, when I first saw him. I hid in Quinton’s jacket.”

“It’s true, he did.”

“Where are we?” she lifted her head from my chest, her eyes dull and glazed. Anxious about her lethargy, I turned to Quinton in silent inquiry.

“It’s from his claw,” the vampire whispered in my ear. “She’ll be fine, so don’t you panic on me.”

Sighing my relief, I rested my cheek against Marian’s hair. “We’re in part of the third level of Chicago. There’s no sign of Hecate and her lampad companions, but it turns out there are Babylonians and crystal caves.”

“Oh, the lampad are real. They don’t come out often. They aren’t a threat, not usually.” Chuckling, Quinton lounged beside us. “And be grateful Hecate isn’t a frequent visitor. Nothing good happens when the gods walk the Earth. Sometimes they come and go with us none the wiser, but they usually leave trouble in their wake.”

If Quinton’s goal was to distract me and Marian, he succeeded. Marian squirmed on my lap and turned to face the vampire. “What sort of trouble?”

“If you ignore the death, doom, and destruction, their children are the problem. When a goddess takes a mortal to her bed, sometimes said mortal finds himself the unexpected caretaker of a human infant, a mostly vanilla one. The real trouble starts after several generations, when the bloodline is thinned. A little like you, Gibby. No one knows why the children of gods tend to be pure human while their children are ticking bombs.”

“Think gods are good lays, Shane?” Marian murmured, and she rubbed her brace-entrapped hand over my shoulder, resting her palm over her bite on my shoulder. “Never mind. I’m not sharing.”

“I find that promising.”

“Hey, Quinton? What if Shane had been forty-nine percent human?”

“You’d still be in his apartment having sex.”

I was disappointed I wasn’t at my apartment with Marian. “If you’re trying to embarrass me, it’s working.”

“You wouldn’t be embarrassed about having sex, either. You’d be a slut. You’d also be a very long-lived slut likely to grow a pair of wings and a tail in a thousand years if you’re a slow bloomer like Kelly.”

“So no incubus for me?” Marian complained.

“You got Gibby instead. He’s better.”

“Indeed,” Abil Ili said from the doorway, carrying a silver tray in his clawed tentacles. “Honored guest, I am Abil Ili, and it is my pleasure and the highest privilege to serve you. May you find peace and shelter within our hive and home.”

Marian’s gaze locked on the Babylonian, and her body tensed against me. I pulled her closer to offer the illusion of safety and comfort. “Thank you, Abil Ili. I owe you much for your help.”

With far more grace than I’d ever manage, the Babylonian descended into the cushions, wading his way closer. Offering the tray to Quinton, he crouched barely out of reach. Marian took long, deep breaths. “You helped Shane.”

“I did.”

Although she trembled, she jerked her head in a nod. “Thank you. I was scared for him.”

“Of course you were. He has given you the rest of his life, but you have only given him your firstborn.”

Marian shook her head, and only the brace kept her from clutching my shoulder painfully tight. As it was, she dug her fingertips into me. “No. I’ll brand him again, over and over, if I must to keep him.”