She tipped it so they both could see it better. The side of a lake, Anna thought. A deep lake to catch the color of the sky and darken the blue to a near black. The artwork was plainer than the painting Dana had been working on, and the canvas much smaller. But in simple brushstrokes, the artist had captured an unworldly quality that made the small picture a window into a foreign place. A place that held no welcome for Anna-but somehow it matched the alien look she'd glimpsed in Dana's eyes.
"Tell your father," Dana said, returning her attention to the painting, "that I will see if I can return a gift of equal value to him. And my apologies if I don't."
"WELL," said Anna, once they were safely on their way.
"That was... unsettling."
"You didn't like her?"
She looked at him, then turned her attention back to the road. When the fae's spell had brushed her, Anna had wanted to like her, to fawn at her feet and wait for crumbs of kindness. The rest of the time she'd wanted to kill the fae for flirting with Charles-for having slept with him.
She wanted to crawl in a dark hole so that she never bothered Brother Wolf with her presence again-which she knew was stupid. He hadn't been rejecting her. Not really. But there had been such... dismissal in his admonition. His attention had been on Dana.
Dana who was fae, a Gray Lord, confident and powerful. Not a twenty-three-year-old woman with half an education who didn't even know, after three years of being one, a quarter of what she should know about being a werewolf. She was no fit match for Charles.
None of which she could talk to Charles about without sounding like a stupid twit-a complicated, high-maintenance, stupid twit. Fortunately she could answer his question without betraying what really bothered her about visiting the fae.
"In Chicago, at the Brookfield Zoo, they have a reptile house. I took a school tour of it once, when I was a kid. They have a green mamba. It's the most beautiful snake I've ever seen; not flashy, just this... indescribable shade of green-and so poisonous that if someone gets bitten by it, there's usually no time to administer antivenin."
"You think she's beautiful?" He considered it. "Interesting looking, I would say, but not beautiful. Few of the fae are beautiful with their glamour on. Beauty doesn't blend in very well. And the fae, like us, spent a long time learning to hide in plain sight."
Anna stared ahead. "She's beautiful. Distinctive. In a room of movie stars, everyone would look at her first."
He was watching her intently; she could feel it even if her eyes were busy with the traffic.
"That's dominance," he said. "Not beauty."
"No?" She passed a couple of boys in a Ferrari, and they took offense, roaring up behind her until they were so close she could tell that one of the pair should have shaved better.
"Beauty isn't always easy," she said. "Take Paganini for instance."
"That's music."
"You know what I mean."
He didn't fall into easy, agreeable conversation, and she liked the way he considered what she'd said instead of just letting her run with it.
"I've seen her without her glamour," he told her finally. "Maybe it blinded me to more subtle things. When we became lovers, I did it because I found her interesting." He was watching her reaction.
That morning she would have told him exactly how hearing him describe a former lover made her feel. But since then she'd had that little glimpse of him, raw and bare-although she'd done her best not to look. No one should stand completely naked before another person. But she'd noticed something... unexpected. She knew who she was-and she knew who he was. It wasn't that she didn't value herself; she did. But Charles was... a force of nature.
And he worried that she might not ever be able to see who he was and love him-because he looked in the mirror and saw only the killer. It was the reason he kept the bond between them tightened down. He loved her beyond all reason and didn't expect her to love him back. He was just waiting for her to wise up.
She felt terrified-as if she had been given a delicate and valuable glass ornament, and any wrong move would break it. She felt as though it should have been given to stronger, more capable hands so it would not be harmed. Not that she hadn't staked out her claim in front of Dana quickly enough.
When Anna didn't say anything, he continued. "She took me as her lover because, once she knew her ability to make anyone lust after her didn't work on me, she was curious what sex would be like without bespelling her partner."
Anna snorted. "I'm sure the packaging didn't bother her much either."
Charles sighed. "I did this wrong, didn't I? I owe you an apology."
She glanced at him.
"I didn't mean to bog this down in ancient history-but I didn't stop her doing so soon enough either. And then... words are not always my best means of communication. Let me make things clear: there was nothing between us except mutual appreciation-and that a century ago or more."
"It's all right," she told him. "I understand." Humor, she thought, it has to be just right. Dry humor. "You've had a very long time to acquire former lovers I can blame you for."
A warm hand closed over her knee, and a warm, wordless voice curled around her even as Charles said, "I liked it today, when you claimed me in front of her." He hesitated. "I think it hurt my feelings that you were able to talk about her without being jealous."
She took her right hand off the wheel and ran her hand down his arm. "You need to check your nose, Kemo Sabe." If he could be honest, so could she. "I don't like you talking about her. I wanted to rip her face off when she kissed you. And when Brother Wolf pushed me out-"
"He didn't mean it that way." Charles's free hand tapped on the door frame. "He's not... not capable of subterfuge, not even to make things easier. He's very straightforward."
The boys in the Ferrari were still on her tail, and she tapped her brakes once in warning.
"Well," she said. Straightforward. "I suppose that explains it all." But it didn't bother her anymore. It wasn't Charles's explanation that soothed her, it was the way she'd felt Brother Wolf's straightforward agreement with Charles's pleasure in the way she'd faced up to Dana and claimed him at the fae's boat. She couldn't read everything. Not much from Charles at all now-but Brother Wolf, it seemed, was willing to be more forthcoming.
"You two have a great deal more in common than sharing the same body," she said.
Charles started to laugh and slid down in his seat. "I suppose we do, for good or for ill, eh? He doesn't like the fae, not even Dana. And he... we are still adjusting to having you. We protect our pack, that's what our job has always been. Especially the submissives who are our heart."