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babies or good childbearing hips or anything like that until they’d romanced their ladies and fallen in love.”
    The word “love” hit Nightshade like a bird in the face. He tumbled into a dark place of despair. “I can’t fall in love with a woman. They’re so, well . . .
female.
I’m attracted to strength and power.” Yet without a woman, he would never have the son he longed for.
    “You’ve just not met the right one.” Devin eyed him thoughtfully. “Or maybe you have. If you’re cut up about Ruby throwing you out, you should go back. Apologize. Ask for a second chance.”
    Nightshade bristled. “I’m not going to apologize to a hysterical female who doesn’t understand the purpose of mating.”
    “Oh,
ya rajol.
” Devin slapped him on the thigh. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m guessing you’ve never mated with a female.”
    “Why would I? I’ve only been interested in using these.” His fangs slid out, and sensing the musky smell of the djinn’s skin, he grinned suggestively.
    Devin stood and stretched. “If you want to bite me, stalker, you can do it tonight when my ladies can enjoy the show.” The djinn’s playful tone faded, and he gave Nightshade a serious look. “I really think you should go back to Ruby and charm her into bed. I’m betting that once you’ve experienced sex, you’ll forget it has anything to do with making babies.”
    * * *
    After Nightshade left, Ruby spent the two days before full moon in her art studio painting twelve hours a day. It was always her most productive time: the time when she easily used what she called her artist’s vision to see the energy of living things andproduce the abstract canvases that sold so well. But this session, all she could visualize was Nightshade—his vibrant masculine energy. Canvas after canvas filled with the bold bright strokes of power that defined him. But she would never sell these paintings. She would keep them to remember him by.
    On the eve of the full moon she dropped onto the beanbag in her studio with tears in her eyes and stared out at the sun setting behind the trees. Why had she sent him away without even getting his cell phone number? She got up, fed her dogs, and trudged to the small cell-like room where she slept on full moons. It was completely furnished with manmade materials that weren’t damaged by her affliction. She was still thinking about Nightshade when she fell asleep.
    The following morning, Ruby stretched in the early morning sun flooding through the window. She felt weary after a night of horrible dreams where she relived the stupid fight she’d had with Nightshade, but at least another full moon had passed without her affliction causing damage to her home. Now she had four weeks before the next full moon to get her work out to galleries, meet up with people who had requested commissions, and try to forget the damn legacy her father had given her.
    In the mudroom along the hallway, her two Yorkshire terriers barked to go out. Ruby stepped from the vinyl that covered the moon room’s concrete floor onto the pine boards in the hall and walked toward the back door. The wood flexed beneath her feet. With horrified disbelief, Ruby watched the edges of the boards curl upward, green shoots sprouting from beneath. Her heart tripped, then raced. This shouldn’t be happening now. Why would the affliction be active during daylight when the moon wasn’t even visible?
    She hesitated for an agonized second, torn between dashing back to the moon room or running to unlock the back door and let out her dogs. The dogs won. Leaving a trail of warped and sprouting floorboards, Ruby dashed into the mudroom andreceived an effusive doggy welcome. She picked both up for a cuddle, straightened the bows on their topknots, then reached to unlock the door.
    It took some doing, but she managed to push open the wooden door, let the dogs out, grab a log from outside, and make her way back to the moon room without