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I wasn’t a huge fan of Christmas movies, but she loved the classics. We had a list to work through for the twelve days of Christmas, but it had kept growing until the month of December was packed with them.
“Clay said he wants to watch The Santa Clause with us.” She glanced at the door. “Hey, where is he?”
As much as I hated being the bearer of bad news, I had to fess up to her. “He and Asa left for a case.”
“He left?” Her antennae drooped against her back. “He didn’t say goodbye.”
“He’s in Munford, so not far. Someone turned a kelpie loose there, so the guys had to leave fast.”
“A kelpie.” She touched down on the bar. “He knows not to ride it, doesn’t he?”
Colby, like all the Silver Stag’s victims, had been a fae girl, one well versed in her species lore by her concerned parents.
“I warned him.” I poured her pollen granules in a small dish. “Whether he listens…”
“We need to call him.” Her wings twitched in agitation. “He can’t drown, but he—”
“I’m joking.” I stroked her back until she calmed. “Clay can be reckless, but he’s not careless.”
“I’m going to call him anyway,” she mumbled. “He thinks he can’t get hurt.”
“I’m sure he would appreciate any tips you can give him.”
With me as her only point of physical contact, she and I had been joined at the hip. Clay and Asa gave her a second and third choice for personal interaction when she wanted variety. I was thrilled for her, if a smidge jealous she preferred Clay these days, but I couldn’t fault her good taste.
He had been my first real friend, still was my best friend, and I was glad they got along so well.
Sadly, Asa was so adept at cramming himself into a box, making himself smaller, easier to be near, that Colby hadn’t gotten to know him as well. He watered himself down for her, trying to protect her against the predatory calling in his blood that spooked most people.
I wasn’t most people. Neither was Colby, after what she had endured in her short life. But that was why Asa never wanted to give her a reason to fear him, to worry he might ever hurt her. He was earning her trust by degrees, and I was determined to let the two of them sort it out.
And, selfishly, her attachment to Clay gave me more time to spend alone with Asa.
Lucky for me, Clay solved the problem of a babysitter on the night I picked for my date with Asa.
Not that Colby required one—she entertained herself—but it made me feel less guilty if she had company.
Guilt.
Another of those new and pesky feelings that left me confused about the hows and whys of it.
“Movie or no movie?” I was tired, but I wasn’t sleepy. “Your call.”
“Pass for tonight,” she decided. “I want to warn Clay about kelpies.”
“Okay.” I left her with her pollen and her phone. “I’ll be in my room, reading.”
“Kissy stuff?” Her voice drifted to me. “For Asa?”
“I wish.” No improbable shifters for me, though I had a cobra and mongoose romance calling my name. “Research.”
“Rue?”
“Yeah?” I paused outside my bedroom. “What’s up?”
“I’ll help you bake when you get done.”
The olive branch she extended was better than a movie. “Thanks, smarty fuzz butt.”
Once I heard her voice mingling with Clay’s, I let myself into my room and shut the door.
I wasn’t surprised to find the Proctor grimoire waiting for me on my pillow.
