“Why doesn’t Wallace just shower in your bathroom?” she asks, readjusting the cat weight on her shoulders to a more balanced load.
“It’s a ritual, I think. I know he doesn’t want to come back to me, stinking of accelerant and ash…” I think about it. “Almost as if he wants to wash his sins away before holding me. What he’s forgotten, though, is the smell of smoke is now officially a turn-on.”
“Okay, you can just stop that filthy talk right now.” Morgan shudders dramatically. I’d given her a very abbreviated account of what happened in the club. “How is he acting now? Did you defrost that thick layer of asshole off of him?”
“He did the most admirable thing a man can do,” I say. “He apologized. Handsomely. Eloquently.” I give her a smile. “Sincerely.”
“Good, then I don’t have to cast the spell that would rot his dick off. Oh, this is nice.” Morgan turns in a circle, surveying the room. I’d pickeda guest suite with dark blue walls, with a lot of soft, comforting throws and fabric to throw over the lamps for her moody look.
“Do you want to freak out a little?” I offer.
Morgan turns the full force of her glare on me, kohl-lined eyes narrowed. “Freak out? Are you expectingemotional?You know I don’t want todoemotional. What Idowant to do is find the motherfucker who burned down my spellshop. Then, I want to find the man who ordered it.”
She gets up on the bed, booted feet planted on the cashmere spread, her voice rising as she shouts, “Then I want to turn them both into warthogs, I want them to get buggered by pumpkin squashes for a month. Then, with a spiked dildo. Then I want to throw them into the tiger cage at the Edinburgh Zoo to watch them get eaten alive! That’s what I want!”
“That all seems reasonable,” I say in a small voice.
Sinking down on the bed, Morgan gestures to Familiar One and Familiar Two, who immediately leap onto her lap, Murder Mittens joins them until poor Morgan’s lap is overflowing with kitty. They create a yowling monologue between them, no doubt criticizing our choice of cat treats and subpar lounging areas.
Or, maybe the Familiars are catching Murder Mittens up about their life burning down, andshe’s describing how nauseating Wallace and I are together.
It’s hard to know.
When they’re finished airing their grievances, I pull Morgan off the bed. “Time for a shower. You stink. Then, an excellent meal.”
“Excellent?” she says, “Then I know you didn’t make it.”
“Oh, you’re going to love it here. We have a chef. And a butler. It’s all so weird.”
“I just read a Victorian novel where the butler was required to wipe his employer’s ass. Does Wallace wipe his own ass?” She’s strolling toward the ensuite bathroom, shedding her grimy black dress as she goes.
“No, James-”
“Jeeves?” she asks.
“No,James. The butler. From what I can see, he spends most of his time tidying things with a quivering upper lip. I’m not sure if it’s due to the presence of living things in his domain since Wallace is usually never here, or that’s just his resting butler face.” She laughs, like I hope she will.
“You’re wearing the Triquetra,” she says, touching my necklace.
“I promised you that I’d never take it off.” Shegives me a fierce hug before turning into Morgan, the Feared Witch again.
“Go get me some underwear and something to sleep in,” she commands as she turns on the shower. “And none of your sensible cotton shit, either. The expensive stuff Wallace bought you.”
“Of course, my lady,” I bow deeply, then duck to avoid the shampoo bottle she hurls at my head.
Chapter Thirty-Five
In which there are reinforcements and revelations.
Scarlett…
There’s a clamor in the front hall, and I hurry down the stairs to find the entry cluttered with MacTavishes and Morozovs. “Hello, cousin,” Michael leans down to kiss my cheek. “I bring reinforcements.”
“I don’t know,” I say, looking dubiously at a grinning Roman and Dmitri. “Wallace is pretty good at setting stuff on fire all by himself.”
“If we’re right about who’s behind this, even your talented husband will need some assistance,” Dmitri says, smiling at me kindly.
“Da and Uncle Cameron are heading to The Clinic to see Alastair and talk to Alec,” Michael says. “Where’s Wallace?”
