Page 92 of Tamiko and the Two Janitors
Strange that Doon-wen and Rook lived in a very humanapartment, but Jiminy lived in a wolf’s den. Each embracing the ways ofanother.
What should she do? Interrupting felt wrong. She should go.
But Melissa twisted her fingers into the fur and waited justa little longer. Her head ached, and her eyelids grew heavy. This would be agood place to dream of wolves. Just a little longer.
Her guard slipped, her body slumped, and she buried her facein fur. Hardly any time passed when she felt a blanket settle around hershoulders, and she jerked upright, grappling her attacker to the floor andpinning him.
“Melissa?” Jiminy spread his hands in surrender. “Please,don’t kill me in your sleep.”
She rolled off him, taking the blanket with her. It wasperfect for hiding under. “Sorry,” she muttered. “Boundaries.”
He chuckled. “Who sent you?”
“A matchmaker and a mischief-maker,” she grumbled. “Wouldyou just let me sleep? I haven’t had a full night in three days.”
“Yes. But not alone. Or alone together. Otherwise, the packwill think we’re trysting. Doon-wen could insist I take responsibility whichalways leads to a general cry for proof of ardor.” His hand gently shook hershoulder. “Who should I invite?”
“Does it matter?”
“It can, but it doesn’t have to.” Jiminy patientlyexplained, “Any wolf would consider it an honor to be asked.”
“Doon-wen?”
“I can certainly ask, but he’s been extra growly lately.Apparently, the paperwork for registering an enclave is exceptionally tedious.Anyone else?”
She didn’t really know that many Nightspangles. “What aboutthe wolves in the photos in your office?”
“Them? Those three pretty much raised me, but they’re awayfor a while.”
Melissa was about to steal his blanket and go bed down withTrue when another wolf came suddenly to mind. She asked, “Are the Elderboughsstill in town?”
All she’d wanted was to borrow a quiet corner in orderto catch up on sleep, forgetting—for obvious reasons—that Jiminy consideredhimself a wolf.Of coursehe’d make a production out of a nap. Withinthe packs, sleep was almost as sacred as the phases of the moon. Asking fortemporary quarters had probably invoked some kind of wolvish standard ofcourtesy, generosity, and hospitality.
Melissa would have been furious with herself if she hadn’tbeen too tired to make an effort. And if she hadn’t been looking forward to somethingshe’d only ever experienced once before. With her father and his Kithcompanion. Sleeping pack-style.
She’d dozed off again by the time Jiminy returned withreinforcements.
Torloo-dex Elderbough knelt at her side, tugging at her hand.“Did you really ask for me? Nobody’s ever asked formebefore!”
“I will always ask for you, then.” She offered her hand.“You are my favorite Elderbough.”
His hands were smaller than hers, but not by much. AndMelissa could feel his strength, his potential, and his pleasure in beingincluded.
Jiminy crawled into the room, Risk and Dare close behind.
“Did youreallyalmost kill Jiminy when he foundyou?” asked Torloo.
“Incapacitated,” she clarified. “I left my blade in itssheath.”
“Progress,” came Doon-wen’s deep voice. Being on hands andknees did little to diminish the pack leader’s air of importance. He prowled tothe center of the room, nose high, tail switching.
Torloo looked between her and Jiminy and bluntly asked, “Areyou courting?”
“No.” She sat up and waved at Jiminy as if shooing a fly.“I’m not here for regard or for revenge. I only wanted to rest.”
Scooting closer, Torloo whispered, “It would be a goodmatch.”
Him, too? Melissa asked, “Why do you think so?”
