A Barrel of Vintner - Chapter 6

Despite dealing with winter weather and paperwork related to taxes, I'm still chipping away at the next Justice novel. Things will be a mite slow writing-wise this week since tax form preparation and filing are a necessity now that we've received all of our 1099s, W-2s, etc. Or rather, I hate being in a rush the night before returns are due to the IRS because GK will invariably call me, wanting help because he does wait until the last minute.

In the meantime, here's the next chapter dedicated to all the readers who are trapped by snow, ice, and frigid temps!

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Unfortunately, when the meal was finished, I and my All the Temple leaders except Reverend Father Grey Shadow took their leave with our rough plan to investigate the powdered soma tears. More was to be discussed, and none of it would be pleasant.

Prince White Eagle had the royal guards stationed outside of the room send for the midday meal. The queen invited mine and Luc’s wardens to dine with her.

I couldn’t object. Rather, I didn’t want to object. Jonata, Long Feather, and Yar deserved the respect and honor the queen extended to them.

wardens would have to go to the home Temple of Balance. The last place in the World I wanted to be. They had survived the trip to Jing and back. I hoped Balance Herself would grant them a small mercy and spare their lives until we returned to Orrin. I was under no illusion the danger in Standora was less than it had been during our voyage to Chengzhou.

The prince and the Reverend Father asked benign questions about our experiences in Ryukyu, Jing, and O’ahu, such as the cultural differences in their Spring Rituals. The cuisine we had tried during our voyages. The trading Captain Titus had done on behalf of Duke Marco and prices.

Once the meal arrived and the door closed, Grey Shadow warded the room again. Long Feather automatically seized my plate and sampled everything before he returned it to me. Yar did the same for Luc.

To my surprise, neither the queen nor the Reverend Father said anything. The prince consort smirked, but that was all.

“I’ve spoken with Emperor Po since you left Chengzhou. You two made quite an impression on his people.” The queen sliced off a bite of kelp bass on her plate. “Why hasn’t Alara asked you to teach your lightning ability here in Issura?”

“My apologies, Your Majesty.” I inclined my head. “I knew I forgot to tell her something before we left for Jing.”

“No need to dissemble, Anthea.” Grey Shadow smiled at me. “Talbert told me of your efforts to teach the Orrin clergy. Nor do I blame the seats in Orrin for their silence on the matter. However, White Eagle and I have the same suspicions as you do about who the traitor in the capital is.”

“What about you, Your Majesty?” Luc asked the queen.

She finished chewing and swallowed. “I don’t believe a damn thing Alara tells me, any more than my mother believed her. Neither does Crown Princess Allegra. I don’t know what’s worse, a Reverend Mother of Balance who is wholly incompetent or one who is demon dealing.”

“A good Temple staff can compensate for an incompetent seat.” I poke at my own fillet. “Mine certainly did for years as Chief Justice Penelope sank into senility.”

“Anthea, is the food not to your liking?” she asked. “I can have the kitchen prepare something else.”

“It’s quite delicious, Your Majesty,” I replied.

“Or you could admit you’re tired of fish after spending most of the last six months on a ship,” White Eagle teased.

“In truth, the issues with my own Reverend Mother are killing my appetite.” I laid my fork on my plate and pushed it away. “Nor do I like the senet game I have to play because I don’t know who to trust.”

“If you feel you need to truthspell me, I willing submit to you,” Grey Shadow said.

“And I will, too,” White Eagle murmured.

“I don’t feel comfortable—” I started.

“But I want you to feel comfortable, Anthea,” the queen interjected. “You’re one of the few subjects I do trust right now. I’m in the same position as Po. When my own cousins plot to feed my subjects to the demons, I need all the help I can get. And if it means having you truthspell me, then that’s what I’ll do. Because I do need you.”

Her impassioned plea took me by surprise. I looked at each of my superiors in turn. “I can’t simply oust Reverend Mother Alara any more than you can, Your Majesty.”

“And if I don’t have all twelve Temples working together, Issura is lost.” Her gaze was intense. “Just like Jing would have been thanks to Empress Yu’s former consort, the School of Sorcery, and Po’s own idiotic cousins.

“In other words, you believe Reverend Mother Alara is behind Reverend Father Farrell’s increasingly odd behavior and his current addiction,” Luc said.

The queen nodded. “There had to be something within him to work with, so I can’t blame everything on her. But in short, yes, I believe she is encouraging his excesses so he’s distracted from whatever she is doing.”

“The demons excel in giving humans exactly what they think they want,” I said softly. “But humans often don’t know the cost of their desires or ignore the ramifications.”

“Even so,” the queen replied. “However, neither Farrell or Alara carry any trace of having used demon magic.”

“That doesn’t mean they aren’t demon dealing.” A shiver ran through me. “Samael DiRoy used a human grimoire to summon demons, but he didn’t use demon magic. He commanded them to do his bidding. It’s entirely possibly both Reverend Mother Alara and Reverend Father Farrell could be doing the same.”

“What are you most worried about, Anthea,” Grey Shadow asked.

‘Other than getting my throat slit in my sleep at my home Temple?”

He nodded.

“That we’ve already lost this war,” I murmured. “We just don’t know it yet.”

##

The queen and the prince consort had very few other questions about our journey to Jing and back. Mainly, they wanted clarification of things Po had glossed over. They asked if I’d tried teaching my lightning ability to anyone else with talent in Orrin, besides vetted clergy. I pointed out I had to be careful who I approached. Grey Shadow offered to discreetly send clergy and registered talents he screened down to Orrin for training, which I agreed to.

He reminded me of High Brother Talbert. Not in looks or demeanor, but in their quiet, steady confidence of doing what was necessary to protect Issura and its citizens. Grey Shadow also insisted on us joining him for the midday meal tomorrow along with his team investigating the concentrated soma tears.

The queen and her husband insisted our little party take one of the royal carriages back to the harbor to collect our things and give Captain Titus leave to return to Orrin. As I expected before we arrived, Titus was reluctant to abandon us in Standora, even though the queen had placed her flagship, the Mars Regina, at our disposal once the investigation was completed.

Therefore, Titus, his second mate, and I had a spirited conversation in the cabin that had been our home for most of the last six months while Luc and the wardens collected our things. From the smell of the cabin after being in the palace, we also needed baths and a laundress.

“Chief Justice, the duke gave me very explicit instructions to return you, High Brother Luc, and your wardens home, come storm, pirates, or demons,” the captain forced out from between his clenched jaws.

“Not to mention, how are the Mars Regina’s crew going to react if skinwalkers or demons attack their ship?” Second Mate Little Squirrel protested. “We have more experience.”

“Queen Chiara outranks Duke Marco, and I’m sure the Regina’s captain and crew would act with the same courage you all have,” I smiled at them both. “May I ask a few favors from you?”

“I can’t talk you two out of whatever the queen talked you into, can I?” Titus crossed his arms.

“The queen has commanded us to assist in a project,” I replied. “That is all either I or High Brother Luc can say, Captain.”

Titus grunted. “I just pray to the Twelve Duke Marco has me truthspelled before he beheads me himself.”

Luc chuckled. “I’d be more worried about what Lady Katarina will do if I were you.”

“What are these favors?” Titus finally asked.

“Would you deliver messages to Justice Yanaba, Chief Warden Little Bear, Duke Marco, High Brother Talbert, and Magistrate DiCook?” I turned to Luc. “Did you want to send a message to acting High Brother Jeremy?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Captain, you do realize we are entrusting you to deliver these messages personally?”

Titus smiled. “I would have done so without you having to ask me. We can get underway with the late afternoon tide.”

“Thank you.” I embraced Titus. “For everything.”

“Both of you and your wardens didn’t become part of our crew,” he murmured in my ear. “You became part of our family.”

We released our holds. Little Squirrel grabbed me in a tight hug while Titus and Luc grasped each other’s forearms. The captain and second officer repeated the same gestures with our wardens.

“Give me half a candlemark, Captain,” I said. “And I ask that the crew is gathered on the deck so we may say our goodbyes to them as well.”

Titus nodded, and he and Little Squirrel departed, closing the cabin door behind them.

I dug my stamp set and remaining parchment from one of my bags. Luc sat beside me at the cabin’s table. I stamped out my messages while Luc sealed each message with wax and my personal sigil. He borrowed my stylus and ink and wrote the name of each recipient so Titus would know who got each note. In between dealing with my correspondence, Luc wrote his own letter to Jeremy. I would have to wait and extend my felicitations to the rest of my friends and acquaintances when we returned to Orrin ourselves.

In the meantime, our wardens double-checked to make sure we had all our belongings. I replaced my stamp set in my bag and withdrew the gold pieces Po gave me plus those Luc and I had set aside for the original plan of docking in Orrin.

The Twelve had watched over the crew of the Mars Tranquilus during our entire voyage. Both the emperor and I wanted to give them small tokens of appreciation. However, gold could never replace their bravery and fortitude in our mad dashes across the Peaceful Sea.

When we exited our cabin, Titus and his crew shocked me by standing at attention.

I cleared my throat. “Emperor Po and Empress Shi Hua as well as High Brother Luc and I extend our gratitude to all of you for risking your lives and your spirits on this mission. Whether you realized it or not, you performed a great service to the Queendom of Issura and the Jing Empire, and you helped bring us a step closer to defeating the demons once and for all. These are a very small token. Our true appreciation for your courage cannot be measured.”

Most of the crew turned orange in embarrassment at my words, but a few remained golden with pride in their accomplishment. I presented each member of the crew with two gold pieces and bowed to them. When I finished, a cheer filled the air.

I couldn’t blame them. We were all alive and home when the odds had been sorely against us.

However, I couldn’t escape my next challenge, and I wished with all my heart to stay aboard this ship and sail home with it.

A Cup of Conflict - Chapter 6

I tried to get as much writing and editing done before tax season, but alas, it is time to pay Uncle Sam his due for the privilege of living in the United States of America. Things around here are going to be even more quiet over the next week or two. So, enjoy this next unedited chapter of A Cup of Conflict!

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Three days later, the imperial procession entered the Jing capital. I tried not to gawk as if I were a child fresh from a tiny village, but it was impossible not to do so. The surrounding land, while not barren, was devoid of anything longer than tiny blades of grass. The lack of high vegetation made the walls four-story-high walls appear far taller. All minor buildings were three leagues from the stone base. The Jing people took the prohibitions concerning plant growth and out buildings near city walls far more seriously than we did in Issura, a subject I would need to bring up the next time I spoke with Duke White Eagle.

Chengzhou was much, much larger than Standora. As the city had grown over the centuries, a series of concentric walls had been built around the new stores and homes. Sister Yin Li had dropped back to ride with Luc and me as we approached the city’s Eastern Gate. She pointed out the next wall under construction a half league from the gate in front of us. Men and women dug the deep pit needed to support the massive stone fortress that would eventually surround Chengzhou. I wondered construction had started before Po’s half-brother had been assassinated.

She didn’t need to mention we avoided any delays with the bureaucracy while entering the city as part of the imperial party. For once on this blasted trip, Reverend Father Biming proved his worth.

Captain Huizhong and his men took point as we wove our way through the wide streets. Their announcement of the crown prince’s presence was a contradiction. More people flooded the streets, but they kept well out of the imperial party’s way. The people bowed deeply, and they did not rise until the last guard passed them.

In the meantime, Yin Li pointed out significant sites. I wasn’t the only one enthralled by the art and architecture. The sister’s son Yin Shang stared in wonder at the people and surrounding buildings. It struck me it had been nearly two years since he’d left Jing with his mother.

At approximately the same age I had been when I had been forced to leave Orrin.

While Yin Li identified specific monuments and dispensed stories about them, I looked at the boy on top of his shaggy pony. “How much do you remember of your birth city, Master Yin Shang?”

“No much,” he admitted shyly. “It’s like coming to someplace new.” He glanced at his mother and added softly, “I only remember I didn’t want to leave Father when Mother was told to go to Issura.” He looked up at me. “Do you think I had a premonition something bad would happen to Father?”

The child’s insight took me by surprise. “I do not know. I’ve never had any experience with foresight. Have you spoken to your mother about this?”

He shook his head. “Uncle Po, er, the emperor said I should not say anything to Mother because it would trouble her. I don’t want to hurt her in any way. He also said if I was ever in need of an honest answer, I should ask you.”

I smiled at the boy, vaguely amused Po put that much trust in me. I knew he was quite fond of Yin Shang, and the soon-to-be-crowned emperor looked forward to having his own children. I didn’t know if Shi Hua was aware she was with child yet, but I had learned my lesson about addressing such a matter before the mother-to-be or the potential father announced the coming babe. I had nearly destroyed my cordial relationship with the Duke of Orrin and Lady Katarina over her first pregnancy.

“And what did the emperor say when you asked him if you had foresight?” I asked.

The boy shrugged. “He said the Temples would determine my talents when I was a bit older.”

“Do you wish to serve the Temples?”

Yin Shang glance at his mother’s back before he looked at me again. “Part of me wants to because Father and Mother serve.” A mischievous grin spread across his face. “However, I learned a great deal while we were aboard the Mars Tranquilis. Perhaps I could serve the emperor by working on a ship.”

“I think the emperor would gladly have you serve him in any capacity you both agree on.”

My answer seemed to please the boy, and we both paid more attention to his mother’s gracious discourse.

Our travel through the city wasn’t a straightforward as it would have been in the cities of Issura. Whenever we reached an inner wall, we would have to traverse left or right to reach the actual gate. It was a maze that would have confounded even the builders of the Crimson Palace in Ryukyu. Both invaders and prisoners would have difficulty getting through the gate system even if they knew the city intimately. No doubt Chengzhou’s architects planned for such things.

What surprised me most was the number of parks within each set of walls. They were as well kept as those in the Ryukyuan capital. The first flowers of spring blossomed in their beds, and brilliant yellow buds glowed at the tips of the small trees and bushes’ blue branches. It was a reminder of how close we were to the Spring Rituals. What’s wrong? Luc whispered in my mind.

Just my usual trepidation at this time of year, I replied.

At least we’re not in Tandor this year.

His jibe didn’t make me feel better. You will still be expected to bed some of the local priestesses. He was silent for a long moment before he whispered, After what Gerd did to you and Claudia, I doubt I would be able to perform for fear of some tragedy striking the woman.

His fear surprised me. My birth mother is dead. She cannot touch either of us ever again.

And I refuse to hurt you ever again.

I swallowed my bitterness at the strength of his declaration. Despite the months I spent under Child’s care, the old emotions surged through me. I hoped I would have time to myself to meditate, but I doubted I would have such privacy before First Night.

Yin Li’s running commentary slowed as we passed through the middle wall gate. This wall was much thicker than the last. At the third gate, I noticed the sentries on the parapets were no longer imperial troops, but Temple wardens and clergy. However, they were too high for me to clearly read their shoulder emblems.

“By the Twelve, how did the demons enter the city with this many priests and priestesses about?” I said in Issuran.

“There’s usually not this many Conflict wardens and clergy guarding the inner walls,” Yin Li replied in kind. “Nor as many soldiers manning the outer walls and patrolling the streets.”

“So, you do have Peacekeepers?” Luc asked.

The priestess nodded solemnly. “The extra guards are a response to the winter attack.”

Inside the third wall, large buildings clearly marked as guild houses interspersed with manors housing the noble class, the various philosophical schools, and high-class inns. Each structure was larger than Duke Marco’s castle and the Orrin Government House put together. Small storefronts were housed in the corners of the guild buildings. From the quality of goods, they had been obviously made by masters. The inns had similar corner shops where visitors to the inner city could purchase meals and drinks to eat on the street-side terraces.

As we passed these buildings on the way to the imperial palace, the quiet obeisance to Po continued. I watched facial features and colors of bodies as we passed. While the merchants, common tradespeople and families had largely been relieved at their new emperor’s return, the feelings switched within the inner wall. Guild masters, their journeypeople, and staffs had mixed feelings, but nobles and the school staffs were perturbed though they did not openly express their hostility.

I could feel Luc watching through my eyes, silently comparing his impressions with mine.

This is not good, he said.

It’s not as if we believed Po would be received with open arms by the nobility, I replied sourly.

Luc snorted. Duke Lixin didn’t sweeten the news either.

I smiled at him. Duke Lixin has no taste for more power. If it wasn’t for his family, I think he’d be perfectly happy quietly farming in a small corner of Jing.

Luc chuckled as the imperial procession swung south. At Yin Li’s sharp glance, he quickly sobered.

I could smell the perfumed air before we reached the Temple District. As I expected, as I expected, the next turn opened onto the avenue of the Twelve. The temples themselves put the ones in the Ryukyuan capital of Naha to shame. Nor did they resemble the layered buildings in Haung He. The Temples were out-and-out fortresses.

High walls surrounded each complex except for the main doors and the twelve steps leading to the entrance. The symbols of each Temple were inscribed with gold inlays on the lintel posts. Carved jade decorated the massive bronze doors of the main entrances. A palpable sense of worry emanated from the clergy, wardens, and staff as we passed. It was almost a relief compared to the animosity of the nobles.

“There’s only one gate each for the two inner walls?” I quietly asked Yin Li.

Her slight nod was my only acknowledgement. She kept her eyes forward.

That must have been how the Temples and imperial guards kept the demons from spilling out to devour the civilians when they attacked the palace. Emperor Chengwu and his family were a high cost to pay for the rest of the nation. Did the people here even understand what had been done by the Reverend Mothers and Fathers to save their lives?

Even worse, did it matter if the nobles or school masters failed to acknowledge their new emperor?

Death Goddess Walking - Chapter 6

Here's the unedited chapter 6 from the first book of my latest series The Books of Apep.

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The home was the center of Egyptian life. That’s not to say the ancients didn’t have their share of normal family problems. – Introduction to Egyptology, George E. Herbert


Clenching her fist to keep from decking her housemate, Billie brushed past Kyra. No doubt from the heat in her cheeks, her lily-white skin flamed in embarrassment, but the manners drilled into her by her grandmother dropped into place. “Would you like to come inside, Porter?”

His masculine chuckle filled her ears. “Why thank you, Billie. I’d appreciate warming up before I head home.”

“The kitchen’s this way, I’ll make us some coffee.” Ignoring Kyra’s astonished look, Billie marched past the stairs. The swish of denim said he was right behind her. She’d be polite, serve him some coffee, and send the gentleman on his way before she took her car back out to the cemetery to check on Marcus. Yeah, that was a good plan.

Except she didn’t want to rush Porter out the door.

Geez, Cyrus Johnson was right. She was letting her hormones make her decisions.

Nettie looked up from the paper at their entrance, the comics section now spread on the table. “Did you find—” Brown eyes peered over the tops of her reading glasses as Billie snatched a couple of mugs from the cupboard. “I see you—”

Billie caught the sharp, short shake of Porter’s head from the corner of her eye.

“—you, um, didn’t find the dog.” Nettie grabbed her own mug and took a quick gulp of coffee.

Now what the hell was that all about? In the past, she’d seen the professor agitated, paranoid, even on the edge of violence, especially when she was off her meds. But nervous?

Never.

And taking cues from a man, any man? Oh, hell no.

Porter crossed the kitchen, handed extended. “Porter Gates.”

Nettie regained her composure and clasped his proffered hand. “Netanya Soren. A pleasure to meet you.”

Billie handed the mug of steaming coffee to Porter. His smile nearly sent her melting into the kitchen floorboards. He slid into the chair next to Nettie as if he’d done it a million times before, like he belonged there. A twinge of jealousy whispered through her.

The twins choose that moment to troop through the kitchen door and claim the remaining chairs before she could sit in the one next to Porter. No doubt Kyra had run upstairs to wake Reyna and dish about Billie showing up at the front door with the bouncer.

An evil smirk filled Kyra’s face while her sister disarmed the man with deceptive small talk. Billie leaned against the sink and sipped her coffee, part of her content to simply watch the play of the overhead light in his hair. The other part fretted over how to keep the goth quiet when the inevitable rude question was asked.

“So, Porter, our Billie, she’s do-able—” Kyra’s query ended in a squeal of pain.

Billie swallowed her own gasp of surprise. It wasn’t Reyna’s heel digging into Kyra’s instep. Nettie shot the girl an ugly look before easing the pressure.

Porter stood. From his grin, Billie was sure he was very aware of the byplay happening under the kitchen table. “It’s been a pleasure, ladies, but I must be going.” That smile turned on her. “If you would be kind enough to escort me out, Billie?”

Trying to ignore the other three sets of eyes boring into her skull, she nodded and set her mug on the counter. Leading the way to the front door, her body tingled, conscious of his presence no matter how her mind wanted to deny the attraction.

He paused, concern replacing the humor in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Blinking in surprise, she said, “I’m fine. Why?”

His gaze swept down her body before his eyes met hers again. “You’re still limping.”

A shrug lifted her shoulders. Having someone to confide in was a nice little fairy tale. Just like Cinderella. She’d learned a long time ago it didn’t work that way in real life. “Nasty bruise. It’ll heal.”

He hesitated. For an instant, it seemed like he’d try to kiss her, but then that wicked grin of his returned. “Take care of yourself, Billie. Call me if you decide on another night walk through the graveyard.”

She stood at the door, watching him, until he crossed the street at the corner and disappeared from view. Then his words hit her.

Still limping.

Another night walk.

He had seen her in the cemetery last night.

##

Hours later, Billie sat at a corner table on the second floor of a nearby fast food joint. The image of Porter Gates’ cocky grin still floated through her brain. She stared at her laptop screen. The words composing the motion for a case made no sense. Had he watched her battle the monsters? If so, why hadn’t he helped her and the children? Unless he couldn’t see the ghosts.

Except she’d found him at Marcus’s grave this morning.

Her fingernails tapped on the formica tabletop as questions bounced around her skull. Or had he unleashed those creatures? Resting her chin on her fists and watching the occasional customer sweep in and out of the restaurant’s main doors didn’t bring her any answers.

She had ignored Kyra’s jibes about the bouncer after he left and gathered her computer bag and files. A quick stop at the cemetery to check on Marcus left her reassured, at least in regard to the ghost boy. Even though she had trouble seeing him clearly, his right side showed no signs of the black nothingness that poisoned him last night. Both Sarah Jane and Tommy verified Marcus had regained his normal color though the boy was rather upset his ectoplasmic version of his turtleneck was still ripped. While she was in the cemetery, fresh flurries swirled through the air. A quick circuit around the salted graveyard road produced no sign of the black dog, though the children promised to keep watch for him.

Billie had told Nettie she was heading for OSU’s law library, but at the last second, she drove to the hamburger joint a few blocks from the house instead. The nasty weather kept most of the undergrad students in their dorms, so the place was fairly quiet.

From her seat on the balcony, she stared down into the main seating area. It gave her a perfect view of Nettie shoving open the glass door. Billie started to raise her hand in a wave when a dark figure silhouetted against the deepening twilight followed the professor into the restaurant. Nettie turned at Porter’s greeting.

Billie’s stomach lurched at the quick, friendly hug the two shared, and pressed against the back wall, wanting desperately to melt through the vinyl. Their voices faded and the pair disappeared from view as they headed toward the serving counter. Why the dissembling in the kitchen this morning if they knew each other?

Given the teasing Kyra had launched at her, Billie could understand why Nettie might want to keep a relationship under wraps, especially with a younger man. That comprehension didn’t stop the stab of disappointment in her gut.

Nettie’s distinctive tone drifted up from underneath the balcony. Oh crap! they coming up the stairs?

“Are you sure she doesn’t know?” The scrap of chair legs on tile meant the pair had grabbed a table right underneath Billie’s perch. Not good when her stomach threatened to heave the cheese fries and coffee she’d consumed.

Porter’s deeper voice held a touch of concern. “No, she’s not conscious of her true nature. She was operating totally on instinct last night.”

“But the dead boy who was poisoned?”

“Healed but by instinct,” Porter repeated. “I’m more concerned about the sek. She killed one last night, but its compatriots now know she and I are here in the city. The others will hunt. For her. For the rest of us. For the children.”

A shiver rippled up Billie’s spine, even as her gut cramped in fear. He had been in the cemetery last night! And he knew a lot more about those monsters than she did. She closed her laptop and shoved the file back in her tote before she eased closer to the ornamental metal railing protecting the edge of the balcony, praying the vinyl on the closer chair wouldn’t creak and alert them to her presence.

“We need to tell her—” Nettie started.

Porter must have made some gesture to stop the professor from finishing the thought. His voice dropped, and Billie strained to hear his words. “Neit, we have to be careful. She was worried about something going wrong before we came here, and I don’t believe it was her usual anal-retentive paranoia. None of you ladies remembered our mission.”

What the hell did he call Nettie? And what exactly was a sek? Her fingers itched to open her laptop and use the restaurant’s wi-fi, but the clack of keys might alert the two.

A snort came from Nettie. “I remember now.”

“Yeah.” Humor laced Porter’s voice. “But you did it in the middle of a battlefield.” Liquid slurped. “You’re damn lucky you’re not locked in a psych ward.”

Tapping sounds came from below. “Not taking the human medication forced on me has helped with my clarity.”

Masculine laughter followed Nettie’s irritated words. “Good to hear you dropped the anti-anxiety meds. They were dulling your reaction time.”

Billie swallowed a groan. Now she had confirmation of why Nettie had been acting so strangely lately. What the hell possessed this guy to go along with her disregard of doctor’s orders? Did he like his women crazy?

Another disgusted snort from Nettie. “What are you suggesting we do?”

“Stay as close to her as possible. Apep will send his minions after her since she’s the greatest single danger to his plans next to Set.” Another long pause. “By the way, what do you know about a ghost harassing her concerning his unborn child?”

Mother of pearl! Billie dug into own nails into her palms to keep from slapping something, anything, in frustration. The bastard had seen Cyrus and didn’t say a freaking word about it. She sucked in a deep breath as her conscience reminded her she hadn’t told anyone about Cyrus either.

The tapping below halted. “A client of hers died recently. His children are squabbling with the trophy wife over the estate. Billie said something about the widow popping any time.”

Satisfaction filled Porter’s next words. “I think we have a winner in the prophesy sweepstakes, folks.”

Enough crazy talk. Billie shoved back her chair, jumped to her feet, and charged down the stairs. The surprise on their faces at her appearance only pissed her off more. “If you’ve got something to say about me, then say it to my face.”

Wariness replaced Nettie’s startled look. “Maybe you shouldn’t eavesdrop. You may not get the whole story.” Anger clipped her words.

Fine. The professor could be mad all she wanted. “Get your coat. I’m taking you home.”

Porter raised a placating hand. “Billie, wait—”

She raised an index finger and shook it under his nose. “Shut up. Now. She’s got PTSD, and you know it. Telling her it’s okay to drop her drugs is fucking irresponsible. But going along with her fantasy world shit—”

No words could express the disgust filling Billie’s gut. “Get out of here, and don’t come near me or Nettie again. Or I’ll drop a restraining order on your ass. Got it?”

He opened his mouth, but he must have thought better of whatever he was about to say. His jaw snapped shut with an audible click of teeth. Slinging on his black leather jacket, he started for the door, but he stopped halfway to the exit and turned toward her. “If you see Cyrus Johnson again, let me know. I know you don’t like accepting help, but you’re going to need mine before this is over.” Unnatural calmness filled his words. He pivoted and strode out of the restaurant.

Queer Eye for the Super Guy (888-555-HERO #11) - Chapter 6

I'm feeling much better now. But I also discovered editing and brain fuzz doesn't mix. So I'm still making last passes through a couple of paperbacks before they are released.

But it's officially sprint and life is good! Here's the next unedited chapter of Queer Eye for the Supper Guy!

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A knock on Harri’s office door interrupted her and Susan from ripping through the provisional contract Dale Bernhardt’s assistant had emailed.

Come in,” Harri yelled.

Molly poked her head around the edge of the door. “Oh, you guys are busy. I can come back.”

“What did your mother do this time?” Susan asked.

Molly paused. “It’s not her. This time.”

“Then come on in.” Harri waved the young super into the office. “We could use a break.”

“Well—” Molly stepped inside and closed the office door. A sheaf of papers were in her hand. “This is matter for my lawyers.”

She crossed the room and split her sheaf in two before she handed each portion to each attorney. “Before you start yelling at me, I haven’t signed anything. I’ve been invited to be a judge on a new reality series, but I told the producer I would have to have the offer reviewed by my attorney before I could give him an answer.”

The letterhead was Dale Burnhardt’s production company as Harri expected. The surprising part was Molly’s notes in the margins.

“When did you get this?” Susan asked.

“Yesterday.” Molly walked over to couch and perched on the edge. “I did as you guys and Aisha taught me. I listened to Dale’s pitch before I said he needed to send me a copy of the paperwork for you guys.”

Harri looked from the initial offer. “Why not have it sent directly to us?”

Molly winced. “Please don’t be mad. I’ve been helping Patty with LSAT flashcards while Arthur watches Grace.” Patty Ames, the firm’s paralegal, was scheduled to take the April test. She wasn’t happy with her October score on the law school entrance exam.

Panic flashed through Harri. “You’ve been leaving your mother alone?”

“Hell, no,” Molly bit out. “Patty comes up to Aisha’s loft. And Monica Reinhold is not my mom. She’s a supervillain witness to a murder who I’m guarding.” She slashed her hand through the air. “That’s the extent of our relationship.”

Harri leaned her elbow on her desk as she regarded the superhero. “Who’s with her right now?”

Molly almost pouted over the question about her common sense, but she regained control of her emotions. “Steve’s watching her while I’m down here.”

Harri relaxed a little bit. “Thank you, Molly. I don’t like having Monica here any more than you do, but we don’t have any place more secure where we can keep her. I don’t want her to end up dead.”

“Are you ever going to tell me who shot her?” Molly asked.

“For your own safety, no.” Harri waited for an explosion from the younger woman.

“I figured out on my own it’s the same person that murdered Trubble.” Molly’s eyes glittered more than usual. She was pissed as hell about being kept in the dark.

Harri walked over the couch and sat next to the superhero. “Which is exactly why I’m not telling you. I couldn’t handle it if the killer came after you.”

“May I continue?” Molly’s frosty tone indicated she wasn’t going to accept Harri’s reasons.

“Please do,” Susan said as she took a seat on the second couch. From the mischievous expression on her face, Harri was going to get an earful when Molly left the office.

“I read the offer letter and the contract—” Molly held up the palm of her hand briefly. “Before you start chewing a new one, I highlighted the parts I didn’t understand. But I did some research on the numbers some of these other reality shows bring in. With certain supers and designers as judges, potential new supers looking to build their fan base, and Dale Bernhardt’s name on the project, he can do a lot better on the offer he sent me.”

Molly grinned and lowered her hand. “Plus, it broke on the tabloids this morning Dale and Ultramegaperson are an item.”

Harri flopped against the back of the couch and rubbed her temples. “How fucking convenient!”

“Harri!” Susan snapped. “We do not use that kind of language in regard to our clients.” From the hot pink flushing Susan’s face, Harri needed to do some backpedaling.

“I’m sorry to both of you.” Harri straightened. “I just though Ultra had more sense—”

“Than I do,” Molly retorted.

“Molly, Burnhardt’s pulled in three of Winters and Franklin’s clients into this program of his,” Susan said. “Representing you in this matter may be a moot point.”

The superhero turned to Harri. “You’d chose one of the other clients over me? I was one of the first—”

“Slow down.” Harri grabbed Molly’s closest flailing hand before she accidentally poked out Harri’s eye with her wicked, glittery nails. “We need to talk to the others.”

“But according to the Mojave Revised Civil Code, if we all agree to Winters and Franklin representing us, you can still do it,” Molly said with a hopeful expression on her face.

“But that means we can’t keep secrets,” Susan added. “You’re all going to know how much each of you makes plus any perks.”

Molly nodded. “I get it. To give you a heads-up, Dale got some tax breaks to film the show here in Canyon Pointe instead of Los Angeles. That way, he’s paying less for housing the out-of-town folks. I marked that on page twenty since I’m a local. And…” She paused for a dramatic effect.

After several seconds, Harri blurted, “Spit it out, girl!”

Molly clapped her hands. “He wants to film at Lady Jaye’s Review! So now, you’ll have four clients to juggle!”

War in White Chocolate - Chapter 6

I know I said I'd post a new short story this week. Alas, I did not get it finished. I got sucked into helping Darling Husband and the sisters-in-law move furniture over Labor Day weekend.

Which for some strange reason started yesterday. LOL

So here's the last (I swear!) sample chapter of War in White Chocolate!

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“He’s not possessed!” Wila crouched on the other side of Father McAvoy. “What happened?”

“He was sitting on the chaise, icing his knee, and we were talking,” Father Mbaye said. “He started slurring his words, and I teased him about stealing some of the sacramental wine. Then he slid off the lounge, and I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. It was like he was speaking in tongues.”

Drool oozed down the left corner of Father McAvoy’s mouth. His right eye seemed to focus on her, but not the other eye. She took his right hand in hers. “Father McAvoy, can you squeeze my hand?”

He did. For a seventy-something man, he had a surprisingly strong grip.

She looked up at the younger priest. “Father Perez, call 9-1-1. Tell the dispatcher there’s an off-duty paramedic on site. Have them patch you through to the rig they dispatch, and place your phone on speaker.” She glared at the others gathered around Father McAvoy. “The rest of you? Get out!”

Father Perez stepped away from the surge of hunters leaving the sunroom. Wila caught a glimpse of her reflection in a window. Sometimes, War’s red eyes came in handy. She inhaled deeply and released it before she looked at Father McAvoy again. “I’m going to check your pulse, and then I’ll ask you a series of questions, Padre. Squeeze my hand once for yes. Twice for no. Got me?”

He squeezed once.

Wila placed her index and third fingers against his left carotid artery. She counted heartbeats against the ticking of the second hand of her watch and repeated the same evaluation with his breathing. Checking the right side of his neck was worrisome. No heartbeat at all.

“Are you feeling dizzy?”

One squeeze of his hand.

“Can you see out of your left eye?”

Two squeezes.

“Wila?” Father Perez crouched next to her. “The other paramedics are on the phone.”

“Ardale? What’s the situation?” Dick asked.

Relief filled her. The older man knew his stuff. She wasn’t looking forward to his retirement.

Assuming she and her sisters found a way to stop the Apocalypse.

Wila rattled off Father McAvoy’s vitals. “Strong pulse in the left carotid. None detectable in the right. No vision in the left eye.”

“Keep running through the symptom checks,” Dick said. “I’ll call Oakfield’s ER and let them knew they’ve got a stroke victim incoming. We’re five minutes out.”

“Roger that.” Wila winced as the words slipped from her tongue. Dick and Ramon would be giving her a ton of shit for at least a month for slipping into military vernacular.

Father McAvoy squeezed her hand three times.

“Are you asking if you are having a stroke?”

One squeeze.

“Don’t worry, Padre.” She smiled at him. “Meds today can ensure a full recovery if the docs can get them in you soon enough. Luckily, this happened when you were surrounded by your friends, so we caught this in plenty of time. Do you understand?”

One squeeze.

“Good. Can I finish my questions so the ER docs know what’s going on?”

One squeeze.

By the time Wila finished the stroke checklist, she heard the approaching siren of Dick and Ramon’s rig. She was going to be late to work for the first time ever, but the Soccer Moms needed Father McAvoy more than she needed a job.

##

Apparently, word about Saint Mike’s had spread through the station before Wila arrived for work. She got a round of applause from everyone when she strode into the station. Everyone except Captain Miller.

He shook his head and tugged on his belt. “You’re late, Ardale.”

She made a face. “Technically, I started my shift an hour early.”

“In my office. Now.” He turned and strode into his office without waiting for an answer.

Crap. What was going on? Her attendance record was perfect. Even with all the Soccer Moms stuff happening, she was always on time. She followed Captain Miller into his office and closed the door behind her. She didn’t need the jackals to eavesdrop on this conversation.

The captain sat down and waved at the visitor chair. “Have a seat, Wila.”

He never called her by her given name. He never called any of the paramedics by their given names.

She perched on the edge of the chair.

“Are you okay?” His rheumy eyes shone with concern. Between his silver hair and craggy features, he looked ten years older than Dick. In reality, he was ten years younger.

“I’m fine,” she said uncertainly.

“Was Father McAvoy possessed?”

She blinked. “I beg your pardon?” He couldn’t know who she was. The other Soccer Moms had bent over backwards to keep her identity secret after they’d been outed. During the demon attack on the resurrected at the high school three weeks ago, she’d worn goggles and a scarf to cover her face.

Captain Miller leaned back in his chair. “Dick put everything together after Francine Astin—”

“Coy-Astin,” Wila automatically corrected.

“Coy-Astin,” he repeated. “After she was caught on video. It hasn’t gone beyond me and Dick, but to warn you, the identity of War has been a major topic of discussion at City Hall. I just want to know the truth if I need to cover for you. Was the priest possessed?”

Too many thoughts ran through her brain. However, Captain Miller had always done right by her despite the crap she got from a lot of other city personnel.

“No, the priest wasn’t possessed,” she said. “He’s in his seventies, and he had a stroke. Now, tell me exactly what Dick said to you.”

The captain ticked off the points on his fingers. “If Ms. Coy-Astin is Famine per the news video, then Penny at Java’s Palace would be Pestilence since she was the only person in the building who didn’t have an exotic disease. And all of you were at your house when Chuck Hernandez’s daughter flatlined for no reason. She would be Death, right?” He smiled. “So logically, you would be War.”

“Because of my military background?”

He chuckled. “If past or present jobs were the criteria, I think Penny would have been Famine, but I heard through the grapevine her daughter had cancer when she was in kindergarten.”

“It was first grade.” Wila twined her fingers together. Derek was so confused and scared when his friend Justine stopped coming to school. Deion told her to lie to her son, but she couldn’t do that. If she’d only realized then how easily lying came to her former husband at the time, maybe she wouldn’t have wasted another three years with him.

“Wila, I’m not trying to poke my nose in your personal business.” Captain Miller leaned forward and rested his forearms on his desk. “I just want you to know you have the backing of everyone in the department. If you need emergency time off, let me know as early as you can. I’ll make sure your shifts are covered.”

“Thank you” She blinked. “I think.”

“And one last warning, Miles Pence has been reinstated.”



She slumped in the captain’s visitor “Good grief. What’s it going to take before the city does something about him?” “The shrink the city called in cleared him for duty.” Captain Miller shrugged. “Between the Eastwood brothers not remembering what happened at Pence’s house, no evidence of trauma on Mrs. Pence’s body, and what the Soccer Moms reported to the detectives on scene, Chief Wright doesn’t have cause to dismiss him.”

“You mean my ex did some fancy lawyer steps and got Internal Affairs to drop any potential charges against him.”

A wry smile filled the captain’s face. “His firm represents all the first responder unions in Oakfield. Including us.”

“I know. It’s just—” Well, damn. Now, she knew why Deion had waltzed into her house last night. What the hell had Pence told him?

A Very Hero Wedding - Chapter 6

Oops! I was so busy writing and proofing a paperback, I totally forgot to post Chapter 6 of A Very Hero Wedding.

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Harri carried Mitch down with her on the elevator. She didn’t think the Owl’s Nest was the best place for either Mitch or Grace to hang out, anymore than it had been for Francisco, but a year later, Miguel’s youngest was attending one of the top STEM universities on a full scholarship. Arthur and Tim kept a playpen down there with an array of toys for the kids, along with diapers, bottles, and snacks. However, taking Mitch down to the Nest also meant she’d have to apologize to Tim even if she hadn’t done anything wrong.

She entered the reception area as Aisha walked out of her office.

“What are you doing with my son?” her partner demanded.

“I fed him since the guy who was supposed to do it stormed out of my loft.” Harri held out Mitch to Aisha. “I also burped him and changed his diaper.”

Aisha frowned and didn’t take her baby. “Molly’s not back yet?”

“Does it look like she’s back?”

Instead of taking Mitch, Aisha pulled out her phone and started scrolling with her thumb. “Well, crap. It looks like one of the cables holding the shipping containers in place either wasn’t secured properly or snapped. Nix is using ultrasonics to keep the ship stable while Black Falcon and Captain Mojave are retrieving the containers.”

She looked up at Harri. “You know the shipping company is going to try to blame the supers. I guess I need some more coffee and have Arthur pulling surveillance footage for me when he gets back.” She pivoted and headed back toward her office.

“Hey, what about your son?” Harri snapped.

“Well, you weren’t bringing him to me, were you?” Aisha pointedly looked at her office door, then at the door to the basement. “If I were you, I’d do some serious sucking up to my man.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Harri glared at her partner.

Aisha slid her phone back into her slacks pocket. “Taking your anger at me out on Tim isn’t helping your relationship. He said he’d watch Mitch until Molly gets back. Since you chased him down to the Nest, you need to be the one to take Mitch down and apologize.”

Harri gritted her teeth, but she wasn’t going to win this one. Aisha could be more stubborn than Captain Mojave. Maybe that we why their friendship survived when all Harri’s other relationships bit the dust.

Aisha took two steps toward the break room before she pivoted on her stilettos to face Harri again. “By the way, I do not want to hear anymore bitching from you about me going to Paris if you are going behind my back to recruit more clients.” She flew to the break room, probably to keep from breaking her precious designer shoes by stomping on the antique floor tiles.

Or breaking the irreplaceable art deco tiles with her superstrength.

Blood roared in Harri’s ears. Dammit! Tim narced on her! She didn’t need this crap from either her boyfriend or her law partner. She was definitely collecting on one of Jeremy’s dinners tonight.

##

None of the Owl’s Nest security measures were active when Harri and Mitch reached the bottom of the basement stairs. Technically, the superhero lair belonged to Tim as the original Ghost Owl, but Rey and Aisha had sort of inherited it. Or rather, their superhero personas Black Falcon and Ghost Owl II had inherited the hideout.

Actually, a good chunk of the superheroes in Canyon Pointe used the Owl’s Nest. All of them happened to be Winters and Franklin clients, too. Like Molly Reinhold AKA Nix.

Lights flickered on as the motion sensors picked up Harri’s strides. Mitch nestled against her shoulder and chest. He was about ready to pass out for his post-lunch nap. She prayed Tim wasn’t running any heavy machinery. Mitch without his nap could be as cranky as his mom without pixie barf first thing in the morning.

When she entered the lab, Tim quietly clicked away on his ergonomic keyboard. Yet another concession he’d made for her, she realized with a pang of guilt. They’d both gotten the same model when they’d spent one evening icing their wrists after a particularly intense round of video games with the Esperanza boys over the summer.

He looked up at her, and the cold anger from earlier still sparked from his dark blue eyes.

“I came down to apologize. I’m sorry for taking my anger with Aisha out on you. It wasn’t fair.” She forced the words between her teeth. “Can you please still watch Mitch while she and I meet with Jeremy’s potential client?”

Tim’s face softened a bit. “Thank you for apologizing. And yes, I’ll watch our godson and pick up your bridesmaid dress.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I said I would, and I will,” he stated firmly. “I’m not that petty.” He stood and held out his hands for the baby. “Though I will wait until after his nap.”

Mitch barely opened his eyes at the trade-off. He made sucking noises with his pacifier, and his eyes drifted shut again. Tim laid Mitch in the portable bassinet next to his computer desk. The pacifier fell out of the baby’s mouth, and he was softly snoring before Tim could lay the Black Falcon baby blanket over Mitch.

Yep, Aisha definitely had more of a clue of marketing and licensing superhero merchandise than Harri did.

“What are you working on?” Harri asked.

“Finishing up the background check on your afternoon appointment,” Tim murmured.

“But Arthur—”

“Had to run an errand, and he took Grace with him.” Tim straightened.

“Does this have anything to do with a ring?” Harri raised an eyebrow.

A funny look came over Tim.

“Oh, my god!” Harri resorted to waving her hands excitedly to keep herself from yelling and waking Mitch. “When’s he going to ask her?”

“I’m staying out of Arthur and Patty’s business.” Tim crossed his arms over his chest. “And you are, too.”

“You’re no fun.” Harri wrapped her arms around his waist. “But I could convince you to tell me.”

“You can try, but don’t you have a client intake interview in an hour?”

“Getting too old for a lunchtime quickie?” she mocked.

“I prefer to take my time and make sure things are done right.” Tim cupped her head and lowered his lips to hers.

Their kiss was slow. And sweet. Really sweet. She detected hints of chocolate, caramel, coconut and vanilla cookie in his taste.

Harri broke the kiss and glared at Tim. “Where did you get the Samoas?”

A Hand of Father- Chapter 6

This will be the last sample chapter posted for A Hand of Father. I'm writing the post in June because DH and I are expecting our first grandchild Adorable Spawn. By the time you read this, he may be a week or two old. However, Mother knows babies come into this world when they're damn good and ready.

By the time DH and I get home, I'm hoping I've started on Famine in French Vanilla. Those may be the next chapters posted.

I was also planning to squeeze in a new Thalia story this year. If I manage to get it done, I will post it under the Free Story tab. I hope all of you are having a terrific summer!

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Late the next afternoon after we woke, I performed some easy stretching exercises with the other priestesses. Whatever calluses I had from ten years on circuit seemed to have disappeared. Migina teased that with the current edict, I had an excuse for being in the saddle every night like the Love sisters. To which Zihna shot back I had more offers to ride than Migina did.

It was odd. I never had this type of easy camaraderie with my classmates at the home Temple of Balance. Like I told Claudia the night before, I never had anyone who wanted to be friends. My eyes scared nearly everyone I met. As for the other novices at Balance, they couldn’t see my eyes, but they avoided me since I was considered a troublemaker.

It didn’t take long to break down our camp. Nassa and the other horses seemed to know they wouldn’t get much to drink for the next two days. They took long draughts from the water hole.

As the sun dipped below the western horizon, we set out on the National Road once again. By full dark, someone was snoring behind me. I turned to look. Warden Long Feather and Peacekeeper Jaime had the last watch of the day. It was definitely one of them from the way their heads drooped. Or maybe they were snoring in unison from the volume of sound. I wasn’t sure how they managed to sleep in the saddle. It was a talent I’d never acquired in all my years on circuit.

“What is it with men and snoring?” Migina complained.

“That’s one of the wonderful things about Love.” Claudia chuckled. “Once we’ve completed worship, they leave.”

“Don’t you miss holding someone afterward?” Migina asked.

“There’s a difference between cuddling and sex,” Zihna called over her shoulder.

I could feel Sister Farrah listening to the conversation through me.

Riding alongside Zihna, Sister Nina of Vintner laughed. It was the first time I noticed our delegation had split up between female and male clergy as we rode tonight.

“Do you think a person’s need for cuddling comes from not having enough in their everyday lives?” I asked.

“That sounds more like a question for Child,” Nina said.

Claudia pursed her lips. “I take it the priestesses in your home Temple aren’t big on hugs for the child novices.”

I burst out laughing. “Any touching for us are from wardens guiding us from place to place or the assistants helping us with our daily grooming. If the ordained justices touch us, it’s usually punishment.”

Sympathy and outrage flowed from the other priestesses, including Farrah who was scouting ahead of us.

That’s awful, the Wildling priestess said.

“Touch is how we at Balance understand the world.” I shrugged. “It can be a blessing and a curse.”

“Well, if I were assigned to Balance,” Migina said. “I sure as Conflict would be taking advantage of the edict and experiencing as much good touching as I could possibly get.”

I looked at her. “How did you not get assigned to Love?”

“She’s only interested in her own pleasure,” Zihna teased.

“I didn’t hear you complaining during the Vintner’s Festival,” Migina returned.

“That’s because my mouth was full,” Zihna retorted.

Even I had to laugh at the younger priestesses’ antics.

Migina decided to ignore Zihna. “In all seriousness, Chief Justice, all the men at Conflict would be interested in entertaining you.”

Claudia made a low sound in her throat.

“What?” Migina waved her free hand nonchalantly. “She needs some recommendations.” The sister leaned closer to me. “I would suggest Brother Yas when return to Orrin. His name may mean ‘snow’ in Diné, but in bed, he’s anything but.”

My hands turned red, and I was sure my face was the same color. Only the other women’s lack of night vision prevented them from seeing my mortification.

“Migina,” Claudia growled.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The Conflict priestess actually sounded contrite. “I didn’t know the two of you—”

“Stop!” Realizing she had shouted, Claudia lowered her voice. “For the love of the Twelve, please stop. We have another twelve days through the desert, and if I have to hear you extoll and rank the bed play of every adult in Orrin, I swear I will leave your body for the coyotes.”

“I, uh, well…” Migina lost her talkativeness.

“Sister Migina, I know you are trying to help,” I murmured. “And I appreciate your honesty and enthusiasm, but we all need to maintain some decorum while we are guests in Diné.”

She cleared her throat. “I apologize for overstepping, Chief Justice.”

“And don’t attack any Diné for intercourse,” I added. “Go to their Temple of Love to relieve any…itches.”

“Unless you are actually itching down there, then please go see a healer,” Zihna said.

The priestesses and wardens around us roared with laughter.

Maybe I had found my true sisters in Orrin after all.

A Virtue of Child - Chapter 6

This will be the last sample chapter before A Virtue of Child goes live on Sunday. It's been a rough slog because this story is being told by an unreliable narrator. Yes, the novels are usually told in Anthea's first person point of view. Normally, she's a totally reliable narrator. It's been a challenge writing this. I hope I did it justice (pun intended), and you all enjoy the story.

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Despite the, well, I couldn’t call it a fight with Luc, I had a pleasant meal with Shi Hua. In my own wallowing, I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed the young priestess’s company.

“May I ask a favor?”

“If I can,” she said with a smile.

“Do you think Ambassador Quan or his concubine would object if Nathan attends the language and martial arts lessons with Ming Wei?”

From her expression, she understood why I was couching my words in such delicate terms. We didn’t have the warding to protect us. Only a few people knew her aunt was really the Jing ambassador’s bodyguard. Even fewer knew Ambassador Quan was the Jing emperor’s half-brother. And only three people outside of Shi Hua’s bedchamber knew Mistress Yin Li was actually a Love priestess.

Better yet, if Shi Hua needed to get a message to me without using silent speech, she could employ my squire.

The priestess smiled and nodded. “I will ask, but I don’t believe they will object. And please visit me since Yanaba can no longer come over. I need women to talk to.”

I could understand her feelings. Jing’s Temple of Light had all genders as part of their membership. Issura insisted on men only, not just clergy, but wardens and attendants as well. It had been a major adjustment for the personnel here when Shi Hua was transferred to Orrin’s Temple of Light. The Issuran standard seemed even more ridiculous when we were facing more demon invasions, and we needed every person with Light talent we could find.

“I will,” I promised.< br/>

I left her quarters with my two wardens in tow. No one bothered to escort us through the Temple, though Mateqai had a pleased expression on his face as we passed him, which I was sure stemmed from me standing up for his charge.

When we entered the sanctuary again, Garbhan and Yar waited along with Sisquoc from the Wildling Temple, two priests from Conflict, and more surprisingly, two priests from Father. Only Sisquoc didn’t have a warden accompanying him.

“Where is your warden, Brother?” I narrowed my eyes, but the huge Wildling didn’t flinch from my red gaze.

“I don’t need one.” Sisquoc jutted out his chin as if daring me to argue with him.

I really couldn’t argue his point. His second form was a mountain panther. I’d seen him in action against renegades, skinwalkers, and demons. No, he didn’t really need a warden.

Instead, I said, “Don’t expect me to watch your back.”

“It’s not my back my high brother is concerned about, but yours.” He managed not to flash a cheeky grin, but his humor rolled over my mental shields. It was a warm and soft as his fur.

“We all need to be careful,” Garbhan interjected.

“You showed everyone Leilani’s drawings?” I asked. All the men murmured their acknowledgement of having seen the description.

“Did any of you recognize it?” I looked at each of their faces, but they all shook their heads.

“We did confer with the Temple of Knowledge,” Garbhan said. “Not even High Sister Mariana had heard of anything like this creature. She assured me she would assign someone to research the matter.

I bit my tongue to keep from giving my opinion of who Mariana would assign to the task, much less whether they would find any worthwhile information. There was so much the Temple of Knowledge hadn’t recorded because they assumed such common lore wouldn’t be forgotten. Then there was the fact that Mariana considered requests from the other Temples to be of less of a priority than her own tasks. She didn’t do so out of spite, but simply because she didn’t understand their importance.

On the other hand, I didn’t know why I was worried about Mariana’s feelings. She had voted to condemn me to Orrin’s Balance seat last year after I killed Samael DiRoy, the queen’s cousin, in order to banish the demons he had summoned.

In fact, no one in Orrin cared about the sacrifices I’d made to protect them. No, they blamed the Red Justice for all their troubles instead of— “Chief Justice?” Garbhan said loudly.

All of the priests and wardens stared at me.

“I beg your pardon, Brother?”

“I asked if you were ready to perform the tracking spell.” His brows formed a blue “V”. He must have been trying to get my attention for longer than I realized.

“It would be best of one of the others assists you,” I said. “The rewind this morning took more out of me than I realized.”

“Of course, Chief Justice.” He inclined his head.

“I’ll assist you, Brother,” one of the Conflict priests murmured.

Together, they knelt before the eternal flame. A bowl with a few shavings of the creature’s cleaned talon sat between them. As Garbhan said, we often had far less to work with in a tracking spell, and not using all of it at one time would give us a second opportunity. Just in case.

It was odd not to see one of the other three Light clergy with him though. Things were simply changing too fast. And we were losing Light talents faster than we could breed them. Thanks to my mother I couldn’t do my share. If Luc couldn’t pull himself out of his well of grief, or Twelve forbid, we lost Shi Hua due to her delivery…

The two men chanted, but the Conflict priest’s voice was discordant compared to the rhythms of Light. Their magic prickled along my skin, the harsh buzz of the warrior a counterpoint to the insistent tickle of truth. Garbhan lit a reed from the eternal flame and set the contents of the bowl on fire. The energies mixed and formed an invisible ribbon that arrowed for the open door of the Temple of Light.

Diamond-sharp blackness surrounded the ribbon and exploded with the force of a bag of Jing flash powder. The cold rush of power knocked me backward. I slammed into a worshippers’ bench and flipped over it. The hilts of my knives dug into my hip bones, my scabbard into my spine and ribs, as I tumbled across the floor.

When I came to a rest, I wondered what it would cost to overlay Balance’s marble floor with wooden planks. I didn’t hurt half as bad as I did after being thrown into stone, though my head pounded.

It wasn’t just my head. The Temple bells rang the alert for demons

Ahiga, one of my own wardens, knelt next to me. “Lady Justice?”

“I’m still alive.” I grabbed the hand he offered to assist me in sitting upright. “What about Garbhan?”

I looked around us. The wardens were all upright. It was only the clergy on the floor.

This wasn’t a normal trap spell. A metallic taste filled my mouth. Demon magic.

Except it didn’t feel as alien as it had before.

The priest who had been assisting Garbhan sat up with some aid from his warden. “What in Conflict’s Hammer happened?”

“Chief Justice!” Yar’s alarm prickled painfully against my psyche. He knelt next to Garbhan who wasn’t moving.

“Is he alive?” I asked.

At the same moment, Brother Jeremy rushed into the room along with a handful of Light wardens. “What happened?”

“A tracking spell gone wrong,” Sisquoc spat. A fine layer of blue fur covered him. My other warden Daniel assisted the Wildling as he tamed his second form.

“He’s not breathing!”

Ahiga helped me to my feet, and I stumbled nearer to the prone Garbhan. Yar pinched the priest’s nose shut and breathed into his mouth. Another Light warden knelt on Garbhan’s left side and performed chest compressions.

I could only stare at the scene, though Jeremy shouted orders and one of their squires raced back to the stables to fetch a healer. Another Light talent was dying, and it was my fault.

A Twist of Love - Chapter 6

This will be the last chapter I post for A Twist of Love. I really need to get the editing done!

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Thankfully, the message regarding tonight’s emergency convocation went out before Lady Katarina’s unplanned and unannounced arrival at the Temple of Balance. Her visit resulted in no work being done because every single priestess, warden, and staff member, including our underage squires, doted over Lord Kam.

Well, except me and the three wardens on guard duty. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the excuse of watching the Temple walls and entrances. Therefore, while everyone else ooo’d and ahh’d over the infant noble, Katarina dragged me to my office with the words, “We must talk.”

The last thing I needed right now was some idiotic problem with the nobility.

“What in the world is going on?” I asked. When she took a seat on one of the visitor’s chairs, I circled my desk and dropped into my own chair. “Is there an issue with Duchess Nadine?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Anthea.” Katarina leaned forward, a scowl accenting her bright pink visage. “I heard through the fishwives Gerd was seen in Orrin.”

So much for keeping that news quiet. If Katarina knew, then everyone else in Orrin had already heard about the incident at Love. Duke Marco was adamant about keeping his wife in the dark so as not upset her when her focus should be on their child.

However, Katarina and I shared an odd bond. Both of our mothers were priestesses of Love, and we were both products of the Spring Rituals. Which was why when she suspected her husband was in one of his protective moods, she came straight to me. I simply didn’t have the heart to lie to her.

I groaned and sagged in my chair. “Tell me what you know so I’m not repeating myself.”

Katarina repeated enough of a chunk of what happened at Love this morning that I suspected it was one of the sisters who’d passed the information. The question of whether it was directly or through pillow talk with Lady Alessa didn’t matter. But what the duke’s wife added to her tale aroused my interest.

“Do you know Alo, the innkeeper of the Green Lady?” Katarina asked.

“We’ve met a couple of time since I was assigned to Orrin.” That was an understatement of the generation.

“His daughter Chumana claims she saw a woman matching Gerd’s description try to access the tunnel system,” Katarina stated.

“And who is the source for this tale?” I said, my skepticism more than evident.

“Chumana herself.” Katarina slapped the surface of my desk with her palm. “I spoke with her during the midday meal. I cocked my head and grinned. “Marco let you off the ducal estate?”

“My old guild master at the Veterinarians Guild sent a message asking for assistance healing a cow herd suffering from udder infections.” She shrugged. “My dear husband could not deny assistance to one of his people.”

“Not without causing more hurt feelings.” I laughed at the fight I was sure the noble couple had before Katarina probably threatened his manhood. “I’m glad you’re using your healing skills for the good of our cattle population.”

“You’ll be glad when you’re plowing through a steak at my dining table.” She smiled briefly at her rejoinder before her visage turned grim once again. “Seriously though, Anthea. You do need to question Chumana under truthspell. She may be able to give you more details. Something that will lead you to Gerd. She’s destroyed enough lives in Orrin.”

“A question for you first, m’lady.” I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my desk. “Why were you at the Green Lady?” “I used to take an occasional meal there with my mother,” she said wistfully. “Mother would disguise herself as a man, just to get away from the Temple once in a while. I was feeling a bit nostalgic after helping my old guild master.”

My heart sank. For Katarina’s mother to sneak away for a little peace and quiet said how truly bad things were underneath Gerd’s management. And that was long before the demons came to Orrin. And I could understand Katarina wanting to relive one of her few happy memories.

“Very well then.” I nodded. “Thank you for the information. I will follow up on it.”

“Don’t placate me, Chief Justice,” Katarina said as she rose. “I grew up at Love. Gerd’s intent was to kill High Sister Dragonfly this morning. If she finds a way into Balance, she slit your throat and enjoy every drop of blood draining from your body.”

“I’m not placating you, m’lady.” I pushed to my feet. “And I’m under no illusion she would kill me immediately. She’ll torture me because she can no longer do so to her parents, and she blames us all for her misfortunes.”

Katarina made an unladylike snort. “She had everything a person could possibly want. Wealth, power, status. None of it was enough, and that lies solely on her. Not you. Not your grandparents.”

I shook my head. “The problem is she doesn’t care how many people get in her way on her quest for retribution.”

A Touch of Mother - Chapter 6

When we returned to Balance for our horses, Little Bear insisted on accompanying me to my appointment at the Healers Guild with Warden Dezba, replacing Warden Daniel. My chief warden revealed why once we turned off the main thoroughfare.

“Our young squire is quite distraught over his discovery this afternoon.” Little Bear eyed me as we rode. Neither he nor any of my wardens allowed me to walk anywhere this days. Not without a heavy escort, and that was only to another Temple. Otherwise, we rode. “Now that Sivan and Hogarth have been identified as Temple personnel by the citizens, we can’t allow them to go back to the south side.”

“And Nathan’s friends will starve if they don’t receive some assistance,” I said.

“You can’t continue taking on every other Temple’s duties,” he grumbled.

I couldn’t help chuckling at the ludicrous nature of our situation. “I don’t disagree with you, Chief Warden. I’m open to suggestions on how to get a certain priestess to perform her own damn job.”

“If you hadn’t locked already High Father Jerrod in the Temple of Balance, I would have suggested trying that with the certain priestess.”

I turned to look at him. “Why, Chief Warden, between Nicholas of Light and you making jokes, I’d think the end times were here.”

“Who said I was joking?”

Little Bear’s quip made me wonder if I’d gone about my duties in the wrong way. I sighed. Of course, I had. Luc prodded me more than once that I should have taken a more diplomatic approach with the other seats. I’d let my resentment toward my birth mother and my fury at my own Reverend Mother over using my illegal execution of a member of the royal family to force me to take the chief justice position in Orrin affect my relationships with the clergy here.

As always, it always came back to Gerd. I’d given her the very tools she needed to remove me from my own Temple. If it weren’t for the magistrate…

Balance help me. It was a wonder DiCook hadn’t hung me out to dry after the way I treated him in the beginning of my tenure. So much had changed in the last year. I was used to the steady rhythm of riding circuit in the eastern foothills. The politics of the third largest city and second largest port of Issura would be my downfall.

When we arrived at the estate of the Healers Guild, the stablehands took our horses. An apprentice I didn’t recognize bowed to us. Her long hair was bound in a bun in the Diné style.

“Chief Justice, Brother. Masters Aaron and Devin and High Brother Xander await you.”

“And you are?” I prompted.

“Healer Apprentice Simi, m’lady.” She smiled shyly. “I began my studies the day after the summer solstice.”

I inclined my head. “A pleasure to meet you, Apprentice Simi.”

“Will your wardens be joining us?”

“If you don’t mind, we’ll enjoy your herb garden. We know the way,” Dezba said with a smile. The two Light wardens noticeable relaxed at her statement. I couldn’t blame them. Observing Master Devin or Master Aaron’s examination of a suspected victim of foul play wasn’t my idea of a good time either. However, I often learned useful things by consulting with them.

“This way, Chief Justice, Brother.” Simi pivoted and led us to the treatment building. Dezba and the two Light wardens headed for the Healers garden, though no doubt they’d finagle a snack and a drink from the guild’s cook.

The Healers Guild estate consisted of two huge manses. One was designated for living quarters for the guild members and their staff. The other was used for treating the sick and injured. All the lemon oil in the world couldn’t totally eliminate the odors of decay and death, so I didn’t blame guild personnel for the separation. Unfortunately, I’d spent too much time over the past year in the treatment building thanks to the Assassins Guild. Both my Reverend Mother and Ambassador Quan of Jing said I was too stubborn for Death to want to drag me to her realm.

We followed Simi to the treatment room Master Aaron had set aside for examining corpses. As the apprentice said, the guild leader was already there, which was an unusual occurrence. But it was the change on insignia on Master Devin’s assistant Bly that drew my attention.

“You passed your examinations!” Even though I wasn’t a physical demonstrative person, I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight. “Congratulations, Master Healer Bly!”

“Thank you, Chief Justice.”

“You never hug me,” the High Brother of Death protested.

Bly and I parted, and I eyed Xander.

“That’s because we hear too much of each other these days.” Still, I crossed to the priest and hugged him as well. Even though he’d become the seat of Death after the demise of High Sister Bertrice during the Battle of Tandor, he often took his morning and evening meals at Balance even when he did not spend the night with my junior justice. It relieved my mind he took an active interest in Yanaba and their child-to-come.

I leaned back and examined Xander’s face. “Why isn’t Sister Raven Claw observing?”

“I sent her because I was dealing with a Temple matter.” He sighed. “However, she also admitted she didn’t think she could remain impartial given the circumstances.”

I released my grip on the tall young man and turned to Aaron. “You rarely attend these post-mortem examinations anymore, Guild Master. What has piqued your interest in this matter?”

“I would like to say this was a mere formality in regards to Master Bly attaining her rank since this will be the first time she is the lead physician in such an examination.” Aaron stroked his bare chin. Unlike so many other men in Issura, he remained clean-shaven instead of adapting the moustache and short chin-beard that had become popular among the civilians. “However, the apprentices noticed some problematic issues when they were removing the clothing from the body.” “Problematic issues?” I cocked my head. The guild master had a gift for understatement.

“Similar to the atrocities that were done to Sister Gretchen,” he murmured. “And Squire Ming Wei.”

Even though the time was approaching First Evening, well past our midday meal, my stomach rebelled at the memory of what had been done to the priestess before the renegades finally strangled her and stuffed her body in a barrel of Pana wine. And if I thought too much about the horrors visited on Yanaba’s squire before she came to Balance, I would definitely be sick.

“Twelve take them all,” I spat.

“That’s why I excused Sister Raven Claw,” Xander murmured. So, this wasn’t about any bias the priestess held toward the Healers Guild.

I almost wish the sister’s dismissal were about the rift between the Temple of Death and the Healers Guild. Politics annoyed me, but it was nothing compared to the rage I felt toward the brutality inflicted on an innocent.

Every person in the room glowed with the same fury. I sucked in a deep breath in an effort to calm myself. The best thing I could do for Yellow Fin was to discover who did this to him and bring the culprit to justice.

Jeremy and I joined Xander against the one bare wall and observed the proceedings. Bly had learned much from Devin over the last six months. The guild’s clerk took notes for Bly with additional comments from Aaron and Devin, but for the most part, the older healers remained silent as the newly minted master catalogued the injuries inflicted on the boy.

On the other hand, poor Simi turned a pale green right before she fled the room. I looked up at Xander.

“Is it all right if I check on her?”

He nodded. “Brother Jeremy is here if there are any questions. I haven’t met a healer apprentice or a Death novice who didn’t empty their stomach over a situation such as this.”

I stalked out of the examination room. It was close to the main entrance into the manse, and the wide double doors were ajar. I didn’t have to guess or reach out mentally for the young woman. Someone was definitely voiding their stomach in the garden. I followed the stone path to the mulch bed. The healer apprentice bent over the stone edging.

“Simi?” I placed my right hand on her shoulder. The girl straightened and burst into tears.

“I failed!” she wailed and flung her arms around my waist.

“You didn’t fail at anything.” I patted her back.

“Yes, I did.” A sob shuddered through her body. “I was supposed to learn from Master Bly. She said it’s an honor to assist the Temple of Balance. And I couldn’t hold my stomach.”

I guided her further along the winding garden path until we came to a wooden bench near the poppy beds. Once we sat, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. She wiped her eyes and mouth on the edge of her apron.

“Do you really believe you’re the first person to be affected by a dead body?” I said softly.

“I-I—” She licked her lips. “W-we are supposed to look at patients objectively.”

“That’s when you’re trying to find the best way to treat someone’s illness or injury,” I said. “If you can look at the harm resulting in someone’s death without feeling empathy for that person’s suffering, then you shouldn’t be any kind of caregiver.”

Simi sniffed. “But the masters will send me home for running out on the examination.”

“I can guarantee they will not,” I said dryly.

“B-but—” More tears trickled down her face.

“Simi, the healing gift is exceedingly rare.” I squeezed her shoulders. “Guild Master Aaron won’t throw away such a talent. Besides, if vomiting got anyone out of their duties and responsibilities, I wouldn’t be a justice.”

“Y-you got sick?” She swiped her sleeves across her cheeks.

“My very first execution.”

“But if justices can’t see—”

“I can.”

Her body stiffened beneath my arm. “I-I’m sorry. I forgot for a moment.”

I chuckled. “Even for my blind sisters, it’s not the view. We feel the condemneds’ death, as we should since we are responsible for trying and convicting the person.”

“Wh-what did the first person you had to execute do?”

Not even Luc had ever asked me that question. I sighed.

“The man I executed murdered his brother because he coveted his brother’s wife.”

Simi gasped. “What an awful thing to do!”

“Yes, and he regretted what he had done the instant after it happened, but it was too late.” I shrugged. “My aim was quick and true, and he felt no pain, but the impression of Death taking a soul is not one you forget. I lost my breakfast all over the man’s corpse in front of everyone. You are fortunate that your gift allows you to help people.”

Simi stared at the poppies before she looked back up at me. “I do not envy your position, Chief Justice.”

“There are times I dislike my position as well, but hopefully, finding Yellow Fin’s killer will appease Balance Herself.” I squeezed the young apprentice’s shoulders once again. “Master Bly chose you as her apprentice because she obviously sees potential in you. Are we ready to go back inside now that your stomach is empty?”

She nodded.

We rose and walked back to the examination room. I didn’t envy Simi’s position either. The young woman’s innocence had been destroyed by witnessing the terrible acts inflicted on Yellow Fin, and like me, she’d probably have nightmares for quite a while after this.

A Matter of Death - Chapter 6

All right, everyone! Here's the last sample chapter before next Monday's release. Preorders are set up in all the major retailers!

And a final reminder, the posted chapters will not be in the same order in the book. Writers are weird that way. LOL

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By the time I reached the Neighbor's Gate, the demons had ceased their assault. They oozed back to their original positions in alternating rows. It was the only description I could think of for their movements.

I leaned over the parapet of the watch tower. Well, not all of them were back in formation. A dozen lay at the foot of the gate. Dead from the way the blackness spread from the corpses to the surrounding packed earth.

Except the odd contamination only I could see didn’t leach from one of the bodies.

“Reverend Father,” I called out.

He strode over from a consultation with priests from Conflict and Light. “What do you see?”

“The third demon from the right lying below the gate isn’t dead.”

He signaled for the Comanche Light priest he had been speaking with to join us. “We have a demon playing possum. Could you encourage them not to try this particular trick?”

The priest leaned over the parapet and launched a light ball at the demon. With a loud screech, it raced around as it burned. None of its fellows tried to help it. They remained as silent and as still in their ranks as they had before. The demon fell quiet a moment before it collapsed into a pile of red ash. No contamination spread from the cooling remains.

The Reverend Father frowned before he turned to me. “How does a dead demon look different to you than a live one?”

“They don’t look different per se.” I shook my head. “Eggs and grimoires tend to contaminate what they touch, so the item takes on the color of demons.” I peered down at the corpses. “These are the first demons I’ve seen that weren’t killed by Light magic.” I looked at the Reverend Father again and shrugged. “Maybe our brother of Light are the antidote to the contamination.”

The Reverend Father folded his arms over his chest. “Why those things, and not an actually demon?”

I shrugged. “That’s something we’ve been trying to figure out ourselves. The single egg smuggled into Orrin last fall turned the cask it was carried in, but the demon already residing with the imperial sorcerer in the Jing embassy didn’t leave any traces. In fact, it looked like a sash until it realized I was a danger to it.”

“And the grimoires?” the Light priest asked.

“The grimoires—” I couldn’t help a shudder at the memory of touching the one High Sister Gerd had tried to sell to the renegades. “The leather of the grimoires appears to be made of demon skin, except the one I confiscated felt…” I shook myself to drive away the whispers I still heard in my dreams. “I would have sworn it was still conscious.”

“But you still aren’t sure if it’s a difference between the demons summoned to our plane and those that are hatched here?” The Light priest cocked his head as he regarded me.

I shook my head again. “How did you know?”

He grinned. “Some of us have paid attention to High Brother Luc’s reports from Orrin.” His attention turned back to the Reverend Father. “May I dispose of the rest of the demon corpses, sir? I wouldn’t want anyone trying to make them into books.”

“Do it,” the Reverend Father ordered.

While the Light priest burned the rest of the demon corpses lying at the base of Neighbor's Gate, the Reverend Father tilted his head. We retreated away from the edge of the parapet.

“Brother Bumblebee relayed your recommendation of keeping a guard at the tunnel entrances inside the Temples,” he said quietly. “I’d like to hear your account of the demon’s attempt to breach Balance.”

I laid out our actions, including the odd behavior of Elizabeth during my rewind of time. “I’m not sure what to think concerning her behavior anymore,” I finished lamely.

“Yet you are still suspicious that she may be part of the original conspiracy?” He eyed me.

“Or the skinwalkers could have broken her.”

“I recall hearing her voicing the same concern when I eavesdropped on your conversation.”

“I don’t know if a truthspell could even work if she isn’t aware of her deception.” I hugged myself. There were simply too many unknowns in this equation. If any of the clergy from Tandor’s Temple of Knowledge were still in the city, surely they would be driven mad trying to calculate the outcome.

“Do the truthspell anyway to relieve both yours and Justice Elizabeth’s minds.”

“Yes, sir.” A little part of me was glad someone else was making the difficult decisions for once. My body literally ached from shouldering so much responsibility. I turned to leave.

“And, Anthea?”

I faced the Reverend Father again. “Yes, sir?”

“Get some real rest before you do the truthspell.” He grinned. “I don’t need you and Luc accidentally cooking your brains because you’ve been too busy following a certain other mandate issued by Light.”

I should have been embarrassed or furious at the Reverend Father’s overly familiar jocularity. Instead, it just reminded me how exhausted I was.

And thanks to my birth mother, I’d never be able to conceive a child even if I had wanted to. But there was no sense in rehashing the pain of my past.

“If we ever have the energy to get around to fulfilling the Light mandate, we’ll be sure to use the private facilities inside Love and lock the door,” I said wryly.

The Reverend Father chuckled behind me as I climbed down the ladder.

* * *

I repeated the Reverend Father’s odd conversation to Luc when I returned to Light. We sat in the high brother’s quarters and picked over our rations. The innkeepers were cooking for the entire city, and they did the best they could with the ingredients on hand. We’d be looking at this meal differently in another couple of weeks when the water ran out.

Luc blew out a deep breath. “All the ladies of Tandor, civilian and Temple, are taking the mandate seriously. I fear that’s why Bumblebee is hiding inside Balance. He begged me not to tell anyone where he was.”

I winced as I tore off a bite of flatbread. “He’s not interest men, is he?”

Luc shook his head. “The problem is he’s an attractive young man.” He waved a hand. “With the destruction and deaths here, the women of child-bearing age could use the stipend for producing a child with a Temple talent. He’s had an overabundance of offers, and some weren’t exactly subtle.”

While I had a bit of sympathy for poor Bumblebee, I had difficulty swallowing the bread in my mouth. Luc was ignoring our obvious problem, but one of us needed to address the issue.

“You should be taking advantage of the women’s hospitality in that regard.” I stared at my plate. “Especially with the Spring Rituals only a few days away.”

He held out his hand. “I couldn’t do that to you, no matter the reason.”

I looked up at him. “You don’t have a choice, Luc. You need to produce children with your talents. I can’t give you those children.”

“Since when have you cared about edicts from the home Temples?”

“Since we didn’t ride for Cant after the Samael DiRoy affair.” Maybe he really had thought I was joking after the Reverend Mother of Balance sentenced me to the Balance seat of Orrin. I wasn’t sure how serious I was until this moment. Luc pulled back his hand. “If we’d done that, we’d be demon fodder by now. And that’s assuming we weren’t tracked down and executed for defying your sentence.”

“It doesn’t change the fact you’ve been given specific orders from the home Temple.”

“I am not arguing with you about this.” He seized his crutches and headed for the door to his quarters.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to deliver a research report to Reverend Father Nizhé'é'.” Before I could reply, he slammed the door behind him.

It was so rare for Luc and me to argue, especially over a personal matter. And yet…

Was this my fault? Did I really want a declaration of his undying devotion in the midst of a demon invasion? Or was I simply a jealous lover?

The survival of human race might very well depend on what happened in Tandor. And here we were fighting, over him laying with other women. Which he’d been ordered to do.

My birth mother’s attempts to end her pregnancy left me blind and unable to bear children. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t angry with her. She had been a selfish fool. My grandmother Thalia had been just as much a selfish fool in her own way for pursuing her illegal affair with Kam bearing Gerd.

Here I was, acting just as selfishly and foolishly. Maybe it was a good thing I couldn’t have children after all. I’d only be cursing them with my family’s idiocy.