“Sex?”Cha repeated in disbelief.“She’s so pregnant, she’s about to burst like an overheated grape.Give the poor woman a break.”
“I worry about your understanding of gestation.”
“Not something I need to understand.Ever.”
“Orgasms are very healthy in later pregnancy,” Dy continued blithely.“Good for the circulation.”Finally resembling something a bit more human, Dy raked back her snarled golden locks and grinned salaciously.“One of the great advantages of keeping your lover in-house, rather than having to constantly troll for a new one.”
“I happen to enjoy the constant trolling,” Cha replied with dignity.“It’s like target practice—helps to keep my hand in.”
Dy rolled her eyes.“Like you need more practice.”
“Thank you.”Cha gave her a grin, then glanced pointedly at the burnt spot on the wall.“Looks like someone else could use some practice, though.”Not quite a question, but Dy knew it for what it was.
“Don’t start with me,” Dy grumbled, moving to the side of the bed and scrubbing her hands over her face before assessing the daylight outside.“I don’t have enough opportunity to express my magic,” she admitted.“It’s been building up on me.I didn’t singe you, did I?”
“The day I can’t duck one of your fireballs is the day I turn in my handle,” Cha answered cheekily, and Dy snorted.
“Seriously,” the sorceress said, standing up and stretching, her naked body petite and curvy, her breasts full and pink-tipped, waist narrow, and hips perfectly flared.With her ass-length golden curls, Dy looked like a storybook princess—a direct contrast to long, lanky, dark-eyed Cha.They’d made a good cruising team, appealing to opposite genders and preferences.
Blearily, Dy cast about for something to wear.Long familiar with her friend’s habits, Cha handed Dy a pair of pants, holding a shirt at the ready.“To what do we owe the honor of a visit from you?WhydidPhin let you in?”Dy’s grudgingly waking brain caught up, her expression becoming alarmed.“Is something wrong with Phin?The kids!”
“No, no—Phin is fine and knows I’m here.I get to stay for dinner.”Cha patted her flat belly—all right, slightly soft belly—in anticipation.“She’s even making me rosemary twists.”
“An evil spell,” Dy decided, taking the comb Cha handed her and going to work on her wildly curling mass of hair.“You finally abandoned the last of whatever scruples you still possessed and purchased—most likely stole—a mind-wipe spell to make Phin forget how pissed she is at you.”
“What a great idea—do they have those?”Cha asked, more to annoy Dy than anything else.
Dy threw the comb at her, which was—all things considered—a de-escalation from fireballs.Cha neatly caught it and motioned to Dy to turn around.“Let me get those snarls.I don’t understand why you don’t chop this mess off.”
“I like it,” Dy replied sullenly.“More important, Phin likes it.I meant to braid it before I fell asleep, but… I was tired.”
“Hmm.”
“Besides, we don’t all look glamorously fabulous with a famous short bob.”
Cha shrugged modestly.Just because “The Bandit” was a popular haircut didn’t mean she’d planned it that way.She deftly worked the tangles from the bottom up with the comb, the simple task bringing back years of memories.“Phinny thinks you’re miserable.She says they’ve got you on the night runs.”
“Phin has developed a remarkably loose tongue all of a sudden,” Dy commented acidly.
“There’s a job,” Cha began.
“I knew it!”Dy whirled, seized the comb, and shook it in Cha’s face.“I promised Phin: no more smuggling.No more any of it.”
“What if I told you that you could go out with me for a night and a day—same as these runs you’re doing—and come home with fifty thousand silvers?”
Dy goggled at her.“Are we smuggling the dead body of a freshly assassinated fae queen?”
“Nope.”
“I see.We have to do the assassinating, too.”
“No assassinating.Smuggling a package.Nothing new.You know this gig backward and forward.”
“From where to where?”Dy asked with a narrowed gaze.
“Round trip gig.We pick up a package concealed in a few tons of pixie dust, bring it back to Rockton via the Gypsum route.”
“Uh-huh.You say that like Gypsum doesn’t have a dead-or-alive warrant out on you for that frozen ambrosia gig.”
