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Jody blushed furiously, and the edges of Dana's smile twitched a little. "Yes. Yes, she is. How's your ankle doing?"
"Good as new."
"Glad to hear it."
We all waited in awkward silence. I decided I would wait out Dana this time, no matter how scary that stare. She, of course, was a master of waiting, so it wasn't a surprise when Jody was the one who cracked. Honestly, I couldn't blame her.
"Well. Jack should be home soon. I should get going."
I stood up with her and helped her gather the tools. We all exchanged a few more stiff remarks, then parted ways.
"What happened? What happened?" exclaimed Bastien when I came back inside. "I saw Dana out there."
"Nothing new. Jody's a saint; Dana's a bitch. I hope you hurry up and get this done with."
"Damn it, I'm trying! I don't suppose you found out anything useful?"
"Not really...although, I think Jody knows something about Dana. Something juicy enough even for you. She wouldn't tell me exactly what."
The incubus clung to this piece of information like a dog with a bone. "You've got to find out what! Call her up tomorrow. Take her to lunch."
"Jesus, Bastien. I like her, but I'm not doing your work for you. This is your show, remember? Besides, I do have a life, you know. "
He scowled. "That's up for debate."
"Why are you so worked up about this Dana thing anyway? I mean, I'd love to see her fall, but the way you're acting...I don't know. It's totally pushing you over the edge."
"Why shouldn't I be worked up? Just because you don't play the soul game anymore doesn't mean the rest of us don't have an eye on our careers."
I knew Bastien too well not to suspect there was some other reason we were fighting all the time. "And that's all it is, huh? Just good old-fashioned American work ethic?"
"Yes," he said stiffly. "There's nothing wrong with that."
We locked matching Hunter gazes, and I tried to let him know with my eyes that I knew there was more than he was telling me. He stared stonily back, refusing to open up. At last, I shook my head, not wanting to be drawn into any more fighting.
"Mind if I use your hot tub?" I asked instead.
He gestured toward the back patio. "Sure. Have the run of the house. Use me and go."
"You're being childish."
Not answering, he went off to watch TV.
I let myself out through the patio and flipped open the hot tub's lid. Hot steam poured out, and I sighed with pleasure. It felt downright decadent after being out in the cold all day. Glancing around, I took in the vine-covered privacy trellises. There were three of them with a person-sized gap between each one. Dusk was rapidly giving way to darkness, and I felt pretty obscured from the neighbors.
I stripped off my clothes and tentatively put a foot in the tub. Hot. Very hot. I yanked it out, then waited a minute before trying again. Slowly, I eased the rest of me in, bit by bit. When I was finally submerged from the neck down, I exhaled happily and leaned my head back against the edge. Fantastic. I kicked on the bubbles and closed my eyes. Suddenly, I found myself able to forget it all. Doug. The guy from the club. Dana. Seth.
Well, maybe not Seth entirely. But I could forget the bad things, at least.
When my hair had curled from the steam and sweat was rolling down my forehead, I stood up and sat on the tub's edge, letting the air dry me off. A lot of people don't understand outdoor hot tubs, but I preferred them to indoor ones. Nothing can match that temperature change.
Once cooled, I sat back in the water, ready to repeat the process. I could have done this all night and been perfectly happy.
I'd only been back in the water a few minutes when I heard a twig snap from somewhere nearby. It was like a bad-horror-movie cliché, butterrifying nonetheless. I shot out of the water, splashing everywhere, scrambling over the side as I heard a rustle of leaves and brush.
"Bastien!" I yelled, running back into the house.
He tore into the room, face pale and alarmed. "What's the matter?"
I backed away from the patio, pointing. "There's someone out there. "
Nothing could really hurt me, of course, but being immortal does not relieve a person of instinctual fear and caution. There'd be time to feel embarrassed about girly behavior later.
His eyes cut to the patio, and he moved outdoors without any hesitation to look around. My knight. I waited in the kitchen, dripping water onto the wood floor, my heart still thumping. He returned a few minutes later and shook his head.
"There's nothing out there. You imagined it."
"No. It was there. I heard it."
"Then it was an animal." He suddenly smirked. "Or maybe Reese getting a thrill."
When I didn't laugh at the joke, he approached and pulled me to him, unconcerned about getting his clothes wet. My body trembled against his.
"It's all right," he murmured. "You're okay. You're safe."
He pulled off his blazer and wrapped it around me. It was too big, but it felt wonderful. I huddled against him, still too fazed to shape-shift some more substantial clothing on.
"Come on, Fleur .You know I'm here. You know I won't let anything happen to you."
The animosity we'd built from our fight went away, and suddenly we were back to normal again. He took me upstairs to his bedroom, still keeping his arm around me. I shape-shifted dry as we walked and turned back into my Georgina self. Changing into his usual shape as well, he pulled me down to the bed with him so my head rested on his chest.
A lot of immortals don't understand the way incubi and succubi relate to each other. We tend to touch a lot, in ways that are small but still intimate by most standards. I'd been accused many times of being sexually involved with Bastien - or someone else - over the years. Yet the truth was that in all of our time together, he and I had never actually had anything romantic happen. We were close, physically and emotionally, but that came from friendship, nothing more.
Because honestly, when you spent most of your existence giving complete strangers access to your body, it seemed stupid not to enjoy physical bonding with those you actually cared about. And again, by physical bonding, I just meant small things, not even those that resulted in orgasm or a PG rating. Petting. Stroking. Massaging. Kissing here and there. They were all signs of closeness. We needed them, I think, to keep ourselves sane with the way we lived. And there was a certain comfort to knowing that in doing this, the other person got exactly the same thing in return. I could not have had such an equitable emotional relationship if I'd sought a similar physical exchange with, say, Hugh or the vampires. It would have meant something different to them.
Which was why I could lay there in Bastien's bed, half naked, with my body twisted around his. We laughed under the blankets, reminiscing about past times when we had to sleep in similar - but less comfortable - ways. Ship cabins. Narrow boardinghouse beds. Campsites along country roads. Then too, we'd huddled together for warmth and security.
I ended up spending the whole night with him. He held me the entire time in as gentlemanly a way as Seth might have. But with Bastien, I didn't toss and turn with worry all night over what damage one careless touch might do. It was the best night of sleep I'd had in weeks.
When I returned home the next day, I called Seth and asked him if he'd been at the bookstore yesterday. He verified that he had and that Doug had behaved himself.
"He was kind of goofy and chipper but nothing like that day."
"Good. I hope that's the end of it."
There was an awkward pause, and then Seth asked, too casually: "Were you out again last night? I called you pretty late and didn't get an answer. "
"Oh, yeah. I stayed at Bastien's all night."
"Oh."
Silence.
"It's not what you think," I hastily assured him. "We just slept. Perfectly platonic. Just like..."
"You and me?"
Silence.
"Nothing happened. He's like a brother to me. Honest. He's the last person you should be jealous of."
"I'm not jealous. Not exactly. But if you say it's nothing, then it's nothing. I didn't mean to sound like I was accusing you of lying. I know you wouldn't do that."
I thought about o**l s*x at the dance club and my bare skin pressed against Bastien's. I might not lie, but I didn't always tell Seth the whole truth either.
A few days later, Seth and I went to another Nocturnal Admission concert. Doug and I had worked together all week in a civil manner, if not exactly a friendly one. Seth picked me up at my place and again could only stare in wonder at my appearance. I'd gone out hunting with Bastien last night - against my better judgment - and had taken another victim. The glamour hadn't quite diminished yet, and I would have looked hot even in a burlap bag. So, I suppose wearing the kind of dress I did was just outright mean. It was a little slip of a dress in gray cotton jersey, with a ribbon threaded around it that tied just under my br**sts. The thin-strapped, V-necked top showed lots of cle**age; the skirt hung soft and drapey to just above my knee. It was like a winter sundress.
