Cris stood to the side holding the door open and watching me. When I reached her, she shook her head. “I don’t think he’ll fit through the door like that.”
I lowered Rafe to his feet in front of the opening and studying him. I could see that Cris was right. His legs and arms were set much too wide to fit.
“So, do we just leave him here until he wakes up?” I wondered.
“Maybe we can speed up the process. Want to try?”
“Yes, we could get a bucket of ice water and throw it on him,” I suggested.
Cris stared at me as if I had lost my mind.
“It’s a joke,” I said. “Well, at least partially a joke. You have a better idea?”
“Do you often throw water on him?” Cris asked.
“Only when he’s being a dick. Or when he pisses me off. Or sometimes just because he deserves it,” I added.
Cris grinned. “Sounds like you know how to handle him.”
“Sometimes, but it’s not like he hasn’t dunked me in cold streams when I wasn’t ready for it. Sometimes I think he’s actually the age he appears to be. Other times, he displays the restraint and wisdom of his true age.”
Cris chuckled. “I don’t think men ever truly grow up. It’s just more pronounced in Rafe because his body is still so young. His hormones levels are probably about the same as a teenager’s.”
I laughed. “Yeah, definitely. Okay, you suggest something to wake him.”
Cris smiled and her eyebrows rose for a second.
“What are you thinking?” I said.
“Traditionally, you kiss someone to break a sleep spell.”
“Hah, I think I like my idea better, but give it a try if you want.”
Cris moved to Rafe, cradled his face in her hands, and raised her lips to his. I waited patiently, still holding on to Rafe’s collar and waistband. For a few seconds, there was no sign of an effect, and then Rafe’s hands moved to Cris’s head and held her.
I gave them another dozen or so seconds and then cleared my throat. “Really? Don’t you two think we have more important things to take care of?”
Rafe and Cris slowly separated and they both turned toward me.
I let go of Rafe and stepped back.
“I’m just saying; you’ve plenty of time for smooching later.”
Chapter 29
raphael
After learning from Abigail that the priest was indeed still alive. We got his address and dressed for traveling.
After I leathered up with boots, pants, jacket, and gloves, I returned to the rear porch and stared out at the colorful azaleas that formed an informal border between Cris’s back yard and the thick pine forest. The ladies were still changing and while I would normally enjoy watching them dress, I had wanted a few minutes to my own thoughts.
My nerves were still on edge from the open hostility I’d displayed toward Verðandi. While I often didn’t appreciate her lack of openness in my work for her, I had never before felt such animosity toward her. Was it just the night magic taint that had brought the hostility out or was I actually still upset with her. All of the things I’d said to her were true and had upset me more than my normal disappointment in her refusal to provide anything remotely useful in the way of intelligence about my foes or tasks. Was the night magic just giving me a more aggressive attitude or was it something more.
My thoughts were interrupted midstream by a loud snap. For a moment, I couldn’t decide what the sound had been, but then it came again and yet again. In the forest behind Cris’s house, something was snapping branches or maybe trees. Each snap was louder than the one before and, if my unaided ears were capable of localizing the sound, nearer.
Uh-oh.
Something was coming. Something big enough to sound like a bulldozer going through trees. Only the lack of a diesel engine’s roar told me that it was nothing that mundane.
Turning toward the house, I raised my voice. “Tess, this would be a good time for you to get out here.”
The rear door opened a second later and my apprentice, fully dressed from chin to toe in leathers, stepped out onto the porch.
“What is that racket?” Tess asked.
“Good question, but first I suggest you put up a shield and unlimber your crossbow.”
“Done,” she said as she slid the crossbow off her right shoulder. As the bow’s strap slid out from under it, the wyvern protested plaintively and shifted from her right shoulder to her left. Tess notched a bolt as I opened the screen door and went down the steps to the ground.
“What on earth is that noise?” Cris asked as she joined us, pulling the house door shut behind her. She wore slacks and hiking boots below a thin blouse and a light leather jacket that was zipped up tightly against the swell of her breasts. Her long brown hair was pulled into a ponytail and held with a stretchy.
“I’m afraid we’re about to find out,” I said as I pulled my Colt Model 1911 from my jacket. I cocked the hammer back and looked at what I had been reduced to. A damn gun. I’d always liked the Colt, but it was for emergencies, or for stopping a mundane threat when I didn’t want to reveal my true self.
I held out my left hand
