“I’d be asking just how Ethniu got put in a bottle. And who is holding the bottle. I’d ask where the Eye of Balor wound up. And I’d ask myself how much I’d heard from the Red Court lately.”
LaChaise tensed.
I never saw Bear move. One second she was standing there, and the next she had her four-bore leveled, in one massive paw, with its barrel a foot from LaChaise’s temple.
“I could call in some assistance, I suppose,” I said. “Make it an Accords matter. I’m still on good terms with some of the White Council. The Winter Court would back me. The Wild Hunt would have a ball going ratting. Baron Marcone might take issue with your…people…operating in his territory. And I have a lot of favors I’ve built up over the years.” I put my hands on the table and leaned a little toward him. “But for you and your scavengers, I won’t need them.”
LaChaise narrowed his eyes. Then he leaned back in his chair and said, “Someone’s ass is getting awfully big for his breeches. You should be careful someone doesn’t take a bite out of it.”
“Count yourself fortunate I’m being polite,” I said. “Until sunrise, you and your people have safe passage out of town. After that, any of them left here are fair game.”
His mouth spread out wide, showing me his teeth.
“I believe we understand one another, Sir Dresden. And let me thank you for the invitation to your lovely home. And for being a real peach.” He rose slowly from the table, his hands visible, keeping Bear in his peripheral vision. “I’ll just see my little old self out.”
“Sunrise,” I said.
LaChaise backed away several steps from me before turning his back and sauntering back out of the castle.
Bear saw him out and returned to the table.
“You sure about this play?” she asked me. “You’re making it a little personal.”
“The advantage of going up against ghouls,” I said, “is that you can be real certain about everything.”
Her frown deepened. “You sure you’re ready for something like this?”
I exhaled slowly, stood up, and headed for the stairs down to my chambers. “We’ll find out in the morning.”
Chapter
Thirteen
I fell back onto the bed, gasping, my heart pounding against my chest.
The gorgeous woman from the party, I hadn’t caught her name, collapsed atop me. She was shaking and made soft, gentle sounds on every exhale.
“Oh God,” she breathed. “Oh God. Oh God.”
“Shhh,” I said, and began to run my hand up and down her back soothingly. “Shhh. Get your breath.”
A low laugh came from the padded papasan chair just across from the bed, in the shadows of the room. Moonlight came in through the windows and the draping white gauzy curtains. A slim, pale form slithered up out of the chair and prowled lithely across the rich carpet toward me.
“Oh,” Lara breathed. She emerged into a beam of moonlight that caressed every unclad, perfect inch of her. Her eyes glowed brilliant silver. She touched my hand gently and then caressed the woman’s back, drawing shudders of pleasure from her.
Lara smiled down at me and leaned in for a slow kiss. Part of my brain melted when our lips met, and turned into slow, swirling liquid pleasure, but she didn’t let it last for long.
Not yet.
She drew slowly away, smiling down at me, and said, “That was beautiful.”
It took me a moment to get enough breath and focus together to say, “It still feels strange.”
“It’s been a year,” Lara teased, gently—but her eyes were like mirrors as she turned to the woman and kissed her with a sudden, sinuous speed that reminded me inevitably of a serpent striking and devouring its prey.
The woman kissed Lara back helplessly, letting out a brief, intense scream—and then melted, her eyes rolling back.
Lara guided her down to the bed, where she lay in a boneless, whimpering heap, jerking breaths in and shivering, her eyes as unfocused and vacant as those of any narcotics addict. The woman made small animal noises.
