Read Linda Welch - A conspiracy of Demons for Free Online Page B

headed back to the kitchen. I tore off a section of paper towel and handed it to Mel , who dumped the dog hair in the bin, damped the towel and wiped her face.
    “Love the new do,” from Jack.
    Shorter hair suited Mel. The tiny, silken red curls framed her face and matched the freckles which dotted the bridge of her nose and cheekbones.
    “Ditto,” she said to Jack with a grin.
    Jack’s new spiked hairdo did nothing for me , but Dale liked it.
    Dale finished cutting out the biscuits and threw the cutter in the sink. He draped his arm over Jack’s shoulder. “Come on, lover. Let’s light up the grill.”
    I looked across the sunken living room, through the big glass windows at the street. “Good idea. Royal should be back with the kebabs any minute now.”
    I took a moment to enjoy the scenery, Clarion and the lake beyond. Higher than my old home on Beeches, nothing obstructed the view.
    Mel sat on a stool as I found two cookie sheets, transferred the biscuits and put them in the oven. Mac went up on his back legs and planted his paws on Mel’s shins.
    “I’m not picking you up.” Mel bent over her knees. Mac’s tail drooped. “But. . . .” She felt in her shorts’ pocket and pulled out a small rubber ball. “Look what Aunty Mel got you!”
    Mel!” I warned. “Not in here.”
    She slid off the stool. “Don’t worry, we’re going back outside, aren’t we, big boy.”
    Off she went with Mac practically fastened to her heels.
    A minute later, laughter and Mac’s excited yapping came through the open door.
    I chuckled as I took the ribs from the refrigerator and put them on the kitchen counter. I’d cooked them this morning and now they marinated in barbecue sauce. They needed a few minutes on the grill to heat through and char. Next, out came the macaroni salad, Ranch rolls, angel salad, green salad and butter. Corn on the cob wrapped in foil would go on the grill. The biscuits were almost ready. Dale ’s devilled eggs. This would be a great barbecue.
    I went out on the deck. Jack and Mel raced around the yard with Mac in pursuit. He got near enough to pretend to snap at their ankles once in a while .
    Everyone looked happy. Mel and Jack laughed and whooped, the sunlight making their hair and foreheads shine. Dale watched with a fond expression as he stood beside the gigantic gas grill. And Mac . . . Mac had the time of his life.
    The French doors slid open as I settled on a lounge chair. I looked around as a huge smile pulled my lips apart.
    “Hi, h oney. I’m home,” Royal said.
     
    With a gigantic moan, I sat up and dropped my head in my hands.
    What’s wrong with me? Why did my brain decide to dream the impossible dream when it had so much else to consider, such as my friend’s murder?
    Did Royal want me t o move in with him? Not that he ha d asked me point blank, but the little things he said made me edgy. The night at La Plata was not the first t ime he said he enjoyed waking beside me in the morning. And suggesting I keep some of my clothes in his closet in case , and maybe a toothbrush and other hygiene products? And the look in his eyes belied his casual tone .
    If the value of a relationship is based not only on what you feel when you are together , but also on the emptiness you feel when you a re apart, w e had something special . I missed my hot demon like crazy when he left town for more than a day. He stayed overnight at my place on occasion , I slept over at his apartment more often. But t aking the next step scared me. He had my love, but relationships do not endure on love alone and I ha d seen so many fail.
    And anyway, how could we live together permanently ? Royal would not come live at my house. He tried to take my interaction with Jack and Mel in stride , he even occasionally participated in a jocular, one-sided way, though I think only to humor me. But when his mouth set a certain way and his eyes went cool, I knew he had reached the limit of his endurance. Hearing me yak to