“There’s no pretense. I am her pet.” She loves my toe beans. I’ve never felt the way I feel when she kisses my toe pads. It’s ... enchanting. “And she is mine. Nor have I given her anything in her bed that she didn’t demand. It’s our duty to pleasure our mate.”
“When she’s conscious.”
I shrug. “Her sleeping mind knew who I was. Her waking mind will come to know me, too. Let me do this my way, Luca. If you interfere, I’ll make you sorry.”
He gives me a hint of his fang, much rounder than mine. I really need to get mine filed.
“I won’t interfere and you’ll be the one who’s sorry when she finds out. She’s going to run you through the wringer.”
I grunt. He’s probably right.
On that happy thought, I heave my blood-caked body out of the chair and saunter off to the shower.
* * *
My mate returnsthe next day, too late for class, but early enough to spend time at her museum. After I finish my classes, I take to my fur and spend some quality time in her yard, scent marking my territory thoroughly. Then I wait for her, dozing on the bottom step of her back stairs. The clicking of her bootheels on the flagstones of her path wakes me, but I pretend to sleep as she leans over me.
My mate gathers me up and cuddles me to her soft breast. “Oh, sweet boy. I was so worried when Jane said you didn’t come for food. Have you been eating? No? You must be so hungry.” She presses kisses between my ears and I butt my head under her chin, taking in deep draughts of her scent. It makes me delirious. “I got salmon for you.”
She carries me inside, past the freaky chicken, with whom I trade hisses.
After settling me on a chair, she fetches a plate of deep orange slivers that smell so fresh they might have just been pulled from the river. “Darwin’s contractor is coming tomorrow to install a cat door so you can come and go whenever you want. You’ll always have a home with me, lovey boy.”
I purr and blink at her rapturously. My mate. Beloved mate. Such a sweet, adoring mate. Talented, clever mate. Even if she is mad, I love her with my whole soul. She feeds me a strip of fish; I’ve never tasted anything better. I lick her nose in gratitude.
“Stinky fish breath,” she says, kissing my nose. “I forgive your stinky fish breath. It’s my fault anyway, isn’t it?”
I blink at her so she knows that it is, of course, her fault, but as she forgives me, I forgive her.
Someday, I hope she’ll forgive my deception as well.
Chapter11
The Clearest Gaze
KELLAN
The cup of Sulis Minerva is definitely not something anyone wants falling into the hands of the jackalweres.
Carrie Prince stands next to me, reading the scroll as I pass it to her. It unspools from my auraspectrometer at a frightening rate, covered in jagged lines of red and brown.
“This is very malignant magic,” she says.
I nod. Much more so than I expected for a healing goddess. “I’m going to need to do more research on Sulis Minerva. Teddy mentioned that archeologists found hundreds of curse tablets at Bath when they excavated. I didn’t remember that.”
Carrie stretches the scroll between her fingers and holds it up to the warm sunlight streaming through my windows. “Most deities have two aspects. A goddess of justice also condemns the guilty. A healing goddess must also deal in death. Minerva was a goddess of war as well as wisdom.”
“So, curses?”
“Indeed. Curses to afflict illness and injury. To humble and humiliate an enemy. To take away the Mother’s gift of life.”
“Does drinking from her cup bring life or death?”
“Both, I would think,” Carrie answers. “But life will come at a great cost. And death will not be painless. This is a cup of poisons, of black sleep that does not heal, of rot and disease. I wouldn’t drink out of it.”
I sigh. “I’m going to have to offer it to Column in Boston. It’s too dangerous to have here.”
“Sadly, I agree,” Carrie says. “It’s a shame, because this cup is of great value, aesthetically and historically. I’d love to have my students work on deciphering the inscriptions. But it would be safer for them to do so from pictures.”