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As Lassiter came in behind her, she leaned back against his chest and wished they could stay. The day was soon approaching down below, and she knew he was eager for an update on the night from those who had been out in the field.
“We’ll come back as soon as the ceremony’s over,” he said, as if he were reading her mind. “The humans call it a honeymoon.”
“Honeymoon. I like that word.”
They were in agreement that the mating ceremony should happen immediately. There was no reason to wait, and every reason to move forward with the official part of it all: Nothing was going to change her mind, and he was likewise settled and resolved—and though he wouldn’t put it into words, she could tell he was holding back his worry over the future. The tension was in him whenever she caught him unawares, the moments of unbidden revelation spiking her own anxiety.
They had spoken of none of it, however. Why would they. The threats down below existed whether they were talked of or not, and this time up here was precious and short.
“We need not do anything elaborate in terms of celebration,” she said. “The Brotherhood have been so kind and generous as it is—”
“Are you kidding me? That butler loves a good party and it’s the kind of challenge Fritz lives for.”
“For certain?”
Lassiter stepped around in front of her. “Okay, that doggen literally advised the King, when he was trying to pick out a service dog, to get a golden retriever because it meant more vacuuming.”
“No. Verily, you jest me.”
He put his hand over his heart. “On my immortal life. Rhage told me. So we’ll just let them do whatever they’re going to.”
“Far be it from me to argue with the King and his household.”
They laughed some and then kissed a little more… and then it truly was time to go. Just before she removed her corporeal form back down unto the training center, she took a last look around—
No, she corrected herself. Not a last time.
“Let us go the now,” she said as she closed her eyes.
Traveling between the Sanctuary and the earth was like going between any two planes of existence, and there was a funny reassurance that Lassiter had been doing regularly what she had thought was so unusual and exceptional.
Once they re-formed back in the training center’s break room, they grabbed some food in the form of sodas and chips, and following his lead, she snacked her way down the corridor, through the little office she’d spied earlier, and out into a long tunnel that she felt a bit vulnerable in.
“Does this go forever in each direction,” she asked as she glanced back and was unable to see any terminus.
“No, there’s an escape hatch down that way, and way up here there’s the Pit, an outbuilding where V and Butch live with their mates.”
“The First Family’s house… I never pictured myself thusly.” She wadded up an empty bag of pretzels. “Are you sure I shall be welcome therein?”
Lassiter brought up her hand and kissed the back of it. “You’re going to be my shellan and it’s where I live. Of course you will.”
“So you have a bedroom within the larger home?”
“Better.” He stopped in front of a steel door. “I have a couch, a TV, and a remote.”
As he put in a code and opened things up to reveal a narrow staircase, she frowned. “And that is enough for you—not that I judge. I shall be happy wherever I am, as long as I am with you.”
“When The Golden Girls is on and I have orange juice? It’s a palace, trust me.”
As he indicated the way through the entry, she ducked even though she didn’t need to and entered a compartmentalized set of steps. He had to press by her to put in a code at the top, and her hands lingered around his waist as he passed her by.
They were kissing again as he opened the second portal, and as a result of their preoccupation, they all but spilled out into wherever they were.
“Master! Mistress!”
At the exclamation, they jerked apart. The butler who stood before them was one she recognized from her times down in the training center, the elderly, proper male as ebullient and natty as ever.
He cleared his throat and wrung his hands—and she got the impression he had been awaiting their arrival. “Forgive my temerity, but would you, by chance, have news?”
Lassiter put his arm around her and the way he puffed up with pride was positively endearing. “My good male, we have a mating ceremony to prepare for! We’re going to need you to take care of everything.”
The butler gasped. And then clapped his palms together with the kind of glee one would assume he should reserve for tidings of the greatest joy imaginable—as opposed to a raft of work.
