Page 17 of A Subtle Scar
I snorted. “I’m always glowing, Ronny.”
“Like a bonfire celebrating the stupid that comes out of your mouth. This is undignified. Next time we do this, we are doing it in your room so at least I can leave and get to my own comforter.”
“Like you would brave a walk of shame.”
“Oh, look who’s talking.”
I let him have half of the comforter, and not because he was stronger than he looked, but because I was a generous lover. It seemed unfair that by morning, he’d not only managed to steal the entire thing, but had also left well before I was even awake.
We could have casually gotten breakfast together, couldn’t we have?
Chapter Five
Gettingridoftheinner alarm clock and sleeping in never happened easily for me, especially not when the most stressful thing I’d done the day prior was spacing out at a birthday orgy.
I got dressed, jeans and a shirt because I owned casual clothing, and wondered whether seven-thirty in the morning wasn’t technically sleeping in, given that I usually was long behind my desk by now.
The guest room was lovely, and Mistress Trony had assured me it was the nicest guest room and the only one with a tub, but I wanted to get back to New Cassel, and if not right back to work, then at least to doing some paperwork or even my taxes.
The party had been interesting to say the least, but that single exchange, Charon asking why I didn’t travel anymore, it played on loop in my head. It had no right to, but it did. It was such a simple thing and evading an answer should not have caused this.
With a sigh, I collected the swag bag from the bathroom—Trony had truly outdone herself, especially on the hair product front—and headed out.
The house was quiet but not dormant. Guests were still lounging or dozing. Some were back to doing a lot more than that. The classy atmosphere remained unbroken, however, even after sunrise.
No unruly drunks had demolished the place, no play had gotten out of hand, and no one had spilled a drink on the floor, which still looked pristine. It appeared that if one wanted an orgy run right, asking Mistress Trony to do it was your best bet.
There was even a coffee and tea bar set up on a table that hadn’t been there before, across from the fireplace in the room with the indoor Jacuzzi. The coffee station was complete with fresh bagels and cinnamon rolls, a selection of teas, and lemon-infused water. I wanted to get on the road, but confronted with the blessed smell of fresh coffee, I had to stop and pour myself a mug.
I walked into the room with the Jacuzzi to greet the lone bather.
“Tiamat,” I said and pulled a floor cushion over to the pool.
The Dragon Mother was naked and enjoying the water. She didn’t look like a primordial goddess who’d partied the night away—with no less than three lovers in the lake outside, by my count.
“Vincent Chandler. It has been a while.”
“Just Chandler is fine. Did I ever thank you for your help during that last case with Lucifer and Lionel?”
She lifted her dark eyebrows. “Oh, that? It was an issue of divines behaving badly, and it cannot fall to humans to deal with that sort of thing. Did you see Nyx last night?”
I nodded. “They were trying to teach the puppies fetch outside, but the furballs were not interested. They wanted belly rubs and snuggles, and they got them.”
Tiamat chuckled. “Nyx has always been good with the young. They were very strict with Eris, did they tell you?”
I shook my head. “We didn’t talk much. I watched them and the dogs, and then the one with the snake tail decided I was the one to ask for a belly rub.”
“I see,” Tiamat said. “Well, what you should know is we haven’t forgotten you. And no matter how the human myths would tell it, we gods do not forget about humans, especially not those who fight with us.”
I sipped my very excellent coffee. “I just put handcuffs on that…very unusual perpetrator.”
Tiamat snorted. “Let’s not talk about that one.” She eyed my bag. “Leaving already?”
“It’s a drive,” I said. “And I have paperwork piled up back home.”
The Dragon Mother had deep green eyes that reminded me of a forest canopy, but more disturbingly, I had the feeling that she couldseeme, all of me, every dark and hidden crevice. The urge to look away was strong, but I didn’t.
“In that case, a safe drive,” she said at last. “And remember that the gift in life is not the work we do alone, Vincent Chandler. It is those we recognize as ours along the way.”
