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a surprisingly elegant old-world bow, where his eyes never left hers. Then he turned away. While his departure relieved her of his far too intense stare, it didn’t dispel the things he’d uncovered with that offer. She wasn’t going to be sleeping much tonight, either.

3
     
    R AINA CLIMBED THE STAIRS TO HER ROOM . I T WAS IN the widow’s peak, complete with balcony, the best gravitational point to spin and reinforce enchantments on the house as needed. Her tea carafe was still on the warmer, the People magazine on the wedding-ring quilt bedspread. Candles flickered from the breeze coming through the cracked French doors. Opening them wide, she let in the moist night air, her enchantments warding off the swamp mosquitoes.
    Hearing the rush of wings, she lifted her arm so Cathair had a landing perch. As the male’s talons gripped her arm, he made his rasping sound, flapping his wings.
    “Ow. Cut it out. Some familiar you are. You bugged out like a big, black chicken.”
    “Bite me, bite me,” he chirped at her.
    “I’ll bite you. I’ll cook and chew you up in little pieces.” She let him move to his perch. It was where he typically slept, on the threshold between inside and outside. An additional protection for her, and his preferred roosting point.
    “Did you find those ingredients I need for the moon ritual?”
    He hopped from the perch to a permanent nest he’d built in one of her balcony chairs, ruining it, of course, and plucked out several long strands of foliage, along with two or three wilted florals. A couple dimes rolled out, a silver screw. “You really need to work on your addiction to shiny things,” she commented. Picking up the plants, she examined them with a critical eye, nodded. “Good finds. These will do perfectly.”
    Despite her teasing, he’d performed as required, as he always did. There’d been no need for him during her interaction with Mikhael, and a good familiar knew when it was best to stay out of the way, let his witch have elbow room. But yanking his chain was one of her little rituals.
    Actually, she enjoyed yanking anyone’s chain. Mikhael had reminded her of the dangers of that, there at the end. Still, she’d been perversely pleased at the faint flicker of irritation he’d shown when she thwarted his earlier plans.
    He thought her too lenient with Isaac. Wrong assumptions could always be used to her advantage. When she’d rebounded that arc of power from Isaac, popped him with it like the snap of a single tail, she’d pulled a tendril of it into herself. Like Mikhael, she’d now know if the incubi left her property. Unlike him, she also had the organic energy of her house to aid her, so she’d get the news bulletin first. Probably not by a wide margin, but that extra minute or two might save Isaac’s life, if he was foolish enough to bolt.
    She wasn’t worried about Mikhael trying to sneak off with him. There was nothing subtle about the Dark Guardian. If he changed his mind about their deal, he’d tell her straight out. Probably because he’d enjoy the fight.
    When she glanced in her mirror, she realized she had a feline smile on her face. Yeah, part of her twisted makeup. Mikhael liked to yank chains, too. She thought of a length of chain in his hand, winding around her wrists, twisting over his fingers, a steel tether…
    No restraints…except the ones I put on you myself.
    She yanked herself away from that door. She didn’t discourage fantasies, because they were a much safer outlet than real life, but in this case, the craving was far too close to the surface, and dangerous. Someone who wanted to feed it was in the house.
    Your true nature…
    She needed a different kind of distraction. Pursing her lips, the smile returned. Time to yank someone else’s chain. Dialing Ruby’s cell, she glanced at the clock. One A.M . She shrugged. Time meant little unless client appointments were involved. Since Ruby traveled with Derek, there was no telling what time