Page 16 of A Queen and Her Knight

Cleo’s hand was warm and very soft. Her thumb at Zoe’s wrist was distracting. Her voice and scent were so soothing.

“My brother?” Zoe’s strength left her. She would answer any questions Cleo had, not that she’d been resisting in the first place. “Nathaniel is… he is…. I never had a home, and he knew it, and he made sure I had one, that I will always have one. When I came here, I’d never had a room of my own, space of my own, and I kept all my stuff in a bag for a whole year. Then he asked me if I’d like shelves.” The memory was a good one. “Out of nowhere, he says he wants to try carpentry. With shelves. I said yes to make him happy, and we built shelves together in my room. I ended up doing most of it, and then hated how empty they were when I was done. I didn’t realize he was tricking meinto decorating my den. My space. I….” Nathaniel was more than brother, but the term would do. “Yes, brother, if you want.”

“Oh.” Cleo’s gaze was soft too. “Well, I’m glad he was there for you. And that you aren’t, um, into him, if you don’t mind me saying so. You said you like girls, but he’s… I mean.Damn. You know.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “I know.” How Nathaniel had the patience to deal with his admirers all the time was beyond her.

“But you guys aren’t like that,” Cleo reiterated, her voice a little firmer. The hint of jealousy sent a zing down Zoe’s spine.

“No, he’s family.” Zoe calmed her mate’s insecurity, and then blinked in surprise at how easily she’d said that sentence. “Nathaniel is family,” she said again, boldly, and then perked up. Zoe had family, and a potential mate who had narrowed eyes when she thought of Zoe with someone else. She repeated herself in amazement. “He’s family and he’s mated.”

“Mated?” Cleo took her hand away, but only to pick up her fork. She glanced pointedly down, and didn’t resume eating until Zoe—delicately, with restraint—had some of her soup. Cleo twirled some noodles, popped them in her mouth, and ate them. Then she stabbed half a meatball before holding it out for Zoe. “You’ve been staring,” she explained, although her breathing changed when Zoe leaned forward to eat it. Too late, Zoe realized she had let her mate feed her in front of anyone who cared to look. She didn’t feel sorry for it. though, not even a little bit. The meat was good, but not nearly as satisfying as the sound Cleo made. “Oh,” she exhaled, as her scent grew sharp and hot.

A moment later she held out her fork again, offering the other half.

“I’ve, ahem, been curious about that subject. Mating.” Cleo looked everywhere but at Zoe’s mouth for a moment, as if shewas still used to the human world where some might object to two women together, but then her gaze came back when Zoe licked her lips.

“Mate,” Zoe replied dreamily, then heard a snicker from a wolf at her right, which brought her to her senses. She sat up. “Yes, mating,” she said, self-consciously, and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “Did you have questions about that?”

“Yes.” But Cleo didn’t ask anything about the bond, or wooing, or feeding one’s potential mate to show you could provide for them. “Do you still only have your room? No place of your own?” Most American humans looked upon adults living with families as something disgraceful. Zoe hadn’t forgotten. “Most weres prefer not to live alone if we can help it. Some can, and do. But mostly it’s not good for us. A room of my own is enough, for now anyway.”

“A room of one’s own.” Cleo seemed to enjoy the sound of that. “I think I like how close you are with your family. I miss my mom, but this change of scene was good for me. I will admit, I’m used to the city where you have to have a roommate or two to afford anything, and having my own little place can be quiet.”

“It must be very different here.” It was as close to asking how long Cleo was planning to stay that Zoe could make herself get.

“Ha. Different is the word for it. I don’t mean that in a bad way!” Cleo took a moment to reassure her when Zoe dropped her spoon into her soup. “Despite how people think of the city, you spend a lot of time within the same circle, at the same places, and everybody knows your business.”

“You know this is a small town full of nosy werewolves, right?” Zoe gestured at the diners around them. Most weren’t paying attention that she could tell, but some were. They, naturally, knew all about Zoe’s mate already, from Carl or one of the otherdeputies. The human tourists, at least, were minding their own business. Being too loud when talking to weres, or drinking too much to cover their nerves, as usual, but minding their own business. Most of them were obeying the rules. The more serious incidents tended to involve aggressive weres, who thought in a Dirus, ‘might makes right’ sort of way.

“Everyone pays attention to everyone else, even if they don’t remark on it.” Zoe was a nosy werewolf too. She was monitoring more than one conversation around them, even if only absently. It was normal. Especially when some of the other diners were new to her, or seemed agitated. “Weres don’t exactly have human boundaries.”

Cleo took a sip of her wine, but maybe she wasn’t as nervous anymore, because she stopped there. “True,” she agreed. “Tim and Carl were smirking at me yesterday. But they’ve also been helpful. Tim especially has filled me in on a lot of things. In fact, he mentioned something about that being the point. Packs help each other, or something.”

Zoe released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Cleo wasn’t too freaked out about how the town worked. She liked it here. “That’s good,” she explained, at Cleo’s quizzical look. “I’m glad he’s been helping you. Everyone deserves a chance and a home of their own.”

“That.” Cleo grinned, this time like a pleased cat with cream, and took another sip. “That attitude is all over the place here. You guys truly believe it.”

As if to prove her wrong, a group at another table began to snap at each other. Their voices were reaching annoying-even-to-human-ears levels.

“Tourists.” Zoe sighed. “Worse than blizzards. Not that blizzards happen a lot. Plenty of people will help you when one does, though,” she hurried to add. “Like me. I’ll help you.”

The tourists at the other table were getting louder. Cleo glanced at them, frowning.

It took Zoe effort not to grunt as she explained. “They’re fighting over someone’s attention. The waiter’s, I think.” Mostly they were grumbling, while the weres and humans and one fairy at the other tables kept shooting them glances.

Zoe sighed again.

“What?” Cleo appeared fascinated, but she must have caught the mood of the restaurant, because she was whispering.

“Instincts can be a pain in the butt.” Zoe pushed away her soup and noticed yet another customer looking her way. She was still in uniform. And to be honest, she would have considered intervening anyway. Nathaniel had trained her, after all. “There is discord in the room. My instincts are screaming at me that it’s discord within the pack and it needs to be resolved.”

Cleo’s lips formed a small circle. She studied the bickering tourists, then Zoe. “Should I be worried?”

“I doubt it.” Zoe sighed again. “But keep your distance, just in case. I’m…” She put her hands on the table. “I’m sorry about this.”

She got to her feet and turned toward the oblivious tourists before Cleo could respond. Those tourists had messed up her date, and Zoe was in no mood to be nice.

She slapped her napkin on the table and then shot a look at the waiter in question as she crossed the room. He was slim and striking, with dark black skin and short reddish hair. Fairly new in town. She thought his name was Abay. He was pissed enough to have glowing eyes, but wasn’t willing to make a sceneyet. She gave him a nod as she approached to let him know she would handle it, then inclined her head toward the kitchen, and hopefully, a phone. She didn’t have her radio, and she didn’t feel like howling for backup. Interrupting her date was bad enough.

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