“Whatever. Just stop, please, okay? I don’t want to marry Julian. Or father his six kids, or however many he wants. Way too many.”
“Ugh, kids,” Jessie said. “No thanks.”
Christine smiled. “I’m going to laugh so hard one day if you find a man and suddenly come to me saying your ovaries are on fire, that you need a child immediately. Because you so strike me as that type.”
Jessie glared at her. “Stop.”
“Maybe he will woo you with letters!” Christine cried, jumping up from the bed and striking a pose. “His words will stir your heart and ignite a fire in yon loins. You will lust for him, and his long, magnificent, throbbing member as it—”
Jessie took out her wand and a ball of water hit Christine square in the face as she was speaking.
“Hey, that wasn’t nice!” she yelped, shaking off the cold water. It disappeared a moment later as the magic faded, but the point had been made.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Jessie said with a smirk, then waved the letter. “Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t respond to this, and at least go on a date with him?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“Not good enough,” Jessie said, shaking her head.
“It should be.”
“I need a better reason.”
“Um.” Christine bit her lip. There was a better reason. Sort of. She didn’t really know.
“I can see your brain working,” Jessie said, speaking more friendly now, dropping the teasing tone. “What is it Chris? Spit it out.”
She frowned at her friend. “Why do I feel like you already know what I’m thinking?”
“Because I do, and it was written all over your face earlier. I’m just waiting for you to acknowledge it to yourself.”
Christine sighed, walking over and snatching the letter from her friend’s hands. She glanced at it briefly, then tossed it down on the desk.
“If you can’t admit it to yourself,” Jessie said quietly, yanking the letter back. “Then write him back. Where’s the harm?”
Christine considered her friend’s words. Though neither of them had said his name, they both knew she was thinking about Altair just then. Whatever it was, it was different between them somehow.
If she could admit it to herself.
Taking a deep breath, Christine made a decision.
“Give me that,” she said, taking the letter, flipping it over, and beginning to write.
Chapter Twelve
Christine
“HOLD THE LINE!”
Magic sizzled and flashed as her team dug in. They were in tough against a band of Fae. The faeries had a natural inclination to magic, and she thanked her stars that there were only four of them. If there were any more, her team would be in trouble. As it was, they were holding the line, waiting for a moment to strike.
She ducked low behind the rocks that were serving as cover, narrowly avoiding a brilliant pink lance directed her way. A moment later, some of the rocks exploded as more attacks struck home.
They must have realized that I’m in charge here. They’re going for the head. Cut me down, and they assume the body will fall apart.
She snarled. The constructs just might be right. Although her team was doing better this time, they were still mostly operating as individuals in a group, not as one cohesive, single unit. That would take time, however, and she had to be happy about the progress in just three days.
Her only worry was that Lord Berith wouldn’t give them the time they needed. She had to push them harder than they were ready for, because they simply did not have a choice.
“What’s the plan, boss?” Jessie asked, standing up to launch her next attack, then ducking down.
“They’ve got us pinned down,” Christine growled, upset that she’d let them get into this position.
The witches were in a dry riverbed, using the rocks along the edge as cover, forced to crawl on their hands and knees in the areas where no rocks existed. The fae had the high ground, hiding just inside the trees that marked the edge of the forest.
Between the two of them were a hundred feet of open ground. No man’s land. One of her team was already down. The fae had waited to attack until her team was climbing out of the riverbed to continue on. Linny had been out front, walking point. She’d been too exposed, too far from the riverbed to make it back safely.
At least she’s getting to have a nap while we deal with this shitshow.
One of her witches cried out as a rock exploded, peppering her with shards of hot stone. The wounds weren’t real, but the pain was. Christine ignored the cursing of the other woman.
“Any bright ideas?” she asked, looking at Jessie. “They’ve got us good by my accounts. Their magic is stronger than ours with Linny down. They have the high ground and are wearing us down. Am I missing anything?”
Jessie thought about it. “Him.”
Altair. She didn’t want to use the dragon shifter, mainly because she didn’t trust him. So far, he had stayed hunkered down, out of sight, doing exactly as she’d ordered of him, nothing more.
Could she trust him not to screw them all over? Even if she could, what could he do to help them out of their situation? She thought about it, but the only idea that came to her was so crazy, she didn’t know if it would work.
“Altair,” she barked.
He looked up, eyes sparkling in the bright fake sunlight of the arena. At least they weren’t in the snow this time. Christine hated the snow.
“How can I help?” the dragon shifter asked, eager to join in.
“We need to gain the high ground back. But we also need an element of surprise,” she said. “If we can take out two of them in a lightning attack—bad words!” she yelped as he started to move, misinterpreting what she meant. “I meant, in a quick surprise attack. If we can halve their numbers, the other two should break and run. If they don’t, we can overpower them.”
“How
