He understood. “I’m sorry about your home, Rachel.”
She huffed a sigh, waved a hand, and switched out her robe for her black leather flight suit. The male warriors had adopted kilts a long time ago. But the female warriors preferred a flight suit with snug leather pants and a weapons harness. All battle harnesses had a strip of leather down the spine to allow for wing-mount.
With her small waist and full hips, Rachel looked especially good in her suit. Sudden desire flowed and without thinking, he put his feet in motion, intending to haul her into his arms.
By the time he reached her, however, she’d bent over at the waist and was wincing.
“What’s the matter?”
She flipped the side tabs on the harness. “I’m still chafing and it’s really bugging me. Can you help me adjust the harness? I’ve let it out twice now, but it’s still not right.”
“Of course.” He stepped close and according to her instructions, loosened the side straps so that when the closing mechanisms were snapped shut, she’d have more room.
It took a few minutes, but when he was done, she released a huge sigh. “Oh, thank God. That feels a thousand times better.”
“Didn’t you have this adjusted when you first put it on?”
“Yes. And it fit well at first, but lately—” She didn’t finish the sentence. “Never mind. It’s not important.” She put the hair dryer away and turned off the bathroom light. After testing the daggers in her harness twice, she asked, “Are you ready?”
He smiled, thinking how much she’d changed. But the real question hit him all over again. With the viper filling him with poison, could he really be part of her life?
He ground his jaw. Somehow he had to make this work.
“Let’s go.”
~
Yolanthe paced the south terrace of her Mexico City Three home. She felt uneasy as she rubbed the back of her neck, then stroked the three thin braids hanging to her shoulder. She had a comfortable microclimate established over her property, so nothing but a lovely, balmy breeze blew through the villa palace.
Yet, she could not be content. Something nagged at her and with a sudden swamp of intuition, she knew she had to pay one of her permanent guests a visit.
She was about to head down to her prison, when she heard footsteps. Turning in the direction of the south terrace, she saw her brother walking in her direction, his usual quirky smile on his lips.
She adored Zander, both as her brother and in many ways as though she’d given birth to him herself. The twisted hump of his wings gave him an awkward gait, but he was no less beloved in her eyes.
Her heart warmed as she moved toward him, her arms held out. Her silks rustled softly about her legs. She wore a lavender underdress because Zander had complimented her on the color the last time she’d worn it. The fabric had a soft shimmer of gold embroidered throughout.
Her sleeveless over-gown was of deep purple, though lighter than her dark lipstick.
He took her arms, gripping her to the elbow, then leaned in to kiss her on each cheek. His silvery-blue eyes twinkled with good humor. Though she’d known him all but ten of her nine-hundred-years, it still surprised her how much he resembled their father, Chustaffus. He had the same aquiline nose and broad cheeks, even a sweet dimple in his chin. He could do no wrong in her eyes, and it was for him she’d settled on acquiring Rapture’s Edge. If she could offer the property to her father, and share how Zander had been instrumental in helping her obtain it, then Chustaffus might accept and embrace his deformed son.
More than anything, she wanted Zander brought into the warlike bosom of her family.
In the same way he held her elbows, she gripped his forearms. “So, tell me, brother, do you have word from the future streams about our miscreant?”
“You mean Duncan?” His eyes twinkled a little more.
“Of course I mean Duncan.” She sighed.
“You’ve been crushing on him, sister.”
“I will not deny I’d been looking forward to taking him into my baths and making ample use of his warrior body. For that reason alone, I’m hoping you have word of him.”
At that, he released her arms and led her back to her chaise. “Ah, I see you’ve ordered my favorite wine.” Zander loved a sweet Elderberry wine spiced with cinnamon and cloves.
She knew him well and by his demeanor and tone of voice, she also knew he didn’t have good news for her. When he sat in the chair she’d had made to accommodate his wing-humps, she poured him a glass and handed it to him.
She preferred a chocolate wine herself and taking her already prepared glass with her, she sat down on her cream chaise-longue. “Are you still unable to find Duncan in the streams?”