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I considered carefully before answering. “Zack is wearing himself out trying to keep Szerain stable while also keeping Jill safe—and who knows what else. It’s like a domino effect. If something happens to Jill, then Zack will falter, then Szerain will crash and so on.” I took a deep breath. “And Jill’s very important to me.” I frowned as a new concern arose. “No. Shit. You’re already getting drained here. You don’t need another burden.”
“It is important to you, thus it is important to me, beloved,” he said, inclining his head. “I agree to the arrangement and will adjust the mini-nexus to supply the potency for him while I am on Earth.”
“Perfect.” I gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Boss.” My brow furrowed as another question occurred to me. “Wait. How can Eilahn be here? Isn’t she associated with Rhyzkahl’s realm?”
“It would be due to his agreement with her,” he told me, “though I do not know the nature or extent of it. It is still in effect, or she would not be here.”
Sudden worry gnawed at me, and I hated the implications. “Boss,” I said quietly, “I can trust her, right?”
Mzatal moved to me, took my hands and kissed my forehead. “She is devoted to you,” he said with quiet assurance. “Whatever agreement he made with her, this was not how he envisioned it. It is a constant drain for him.”
Relief had me tightening my hands on his. “Whew. I love her so damn much. It would kill me if she was on team Rhyzkahl.” And now I remembered Helori’s explanation: Eilahn had been determined to go to me and had conspired with another syraza to put the idea in Rhyzkahl’s head to make her my guardian.
Mzatal smiled. “You may delight that he forged a poor agreement, one with exploitable loopholes.” He lowered his head to kiss me.
I returned the kiss. “Does it really drain him?” I laughed with vicious glee. “That’s awesome!”
His eyes flashed with shared amusement. “Yes, it does. And I have no doubt it rankles him deeply.”
“I love it!” I said, gri
Before returning to the house, I made a quick detour to Jill’s new digs to make sure she was getting settled in and had what she needed. A few workers still bustled around outside, but the deck was finished, making access easy. Jill assured me Zack was taking care of the few things she lacked, then granted me a quickie tour of the inside. It was definitely cozy, but then I remembered her own home wasn’t very large either. Moreover, it was nicely furnished and had good quality appliances. Zack done good, I thought with pleased approval.
I also made zero mention of the possibility of a syraza bodyguard. I knew her too damn well, and it would be way too easy for her to say No to the whole thing before I summoned Steeev. Sure, I was being devious and underhanded, but Jill was too important to me to take any chances on her hormone-enhanced stubbor
I found Eilahn as she exited the front door, a big smile on her face.
“You seem awfully chipper,” I noted somewhat warily. Eilahn could be delighted over the oddest things. “What’s up?”
“I am certain that Paul will enjoy decorating for the Fourth of July celebration day,” she a
I eyed her dubiously. “He told you this?”
“No, he did not need to,” she said with a sly and knowing smile. “When I gave him the box from the delivery personage, he threw the bumpers into the air with such abandon that I recognized him instantly as a fellow Earth celebration enthusiast!”
Demon logic. No. Eilahn’s logic. “Riiight,” I said. “Probably had nothing to do with the laptop he ordered yesterday.” I frowned. “Wait. What are bumpers?”
She held up a pink anti static packing peanut between her thumb and forefinger, as if it was a delicate treasure. “They are superbly suited for Valentine’s Day, are they not?” She let out a wistful sigh. “We missed it this year. I will come to agreement with Paul on conservation and storage of the bumpers for the next occurrence.”
“You do that,” I said, unable to keep a smile off my face at her enthusiasm. Paul would have his hands full if she drafted him into her Excessive Decorations Committee, yet I found it awfully charming that she’d taken the young man under her wing.
Her expression became grave, and she laid her hand on my arm. “I have a deeply serious request.”
Anxiety spiked. “What is it?”
“There are many items I require for the comfort of Fuzzykins in her gravid state,” she told me. “I ca
The look of delight and hopeful pleading in her eyes shot down any possible argument I might have mustered. “Sure,” I said with a sigh. “Why the hell not?”
“Excellent!” she all but squealed. “I will return at once so that we may depart!” With that, she ran off toward the woods, “bumper” in hand, and I abruptly had a weird vision of a secret hoard of Earth treasures in a hollow tree, and the bumper in a place of honor between a corncob holder and a losing lottery ticket.
“I need to shower first!” I called after her, but she was already lost amidst the trees. I shrugged and headed inside, doing my best to shut out the garish mental image of the porch festooned in red, white and blue.
Chapter 27
After half an hour in the pet store with Eilahn I began to look back fondly on my last visit to the dentist.
More toys. Treats. A special blanket. A cat bed—selected only after Eilahn poked, prodded, sniffed, and rubbed her face against every variety available. Brushes and combs—and I had to seize her arm to keep her from trying them out. By the time she trundled her shopping cart down the food aisle I was ready to snap.
“Eilahn, here’s cat food,” I said with a slightly manic smile as I grabbed the first bag available. “It’s a big bag! We won’t have to shop again for ages. It’s even on sale!”
She looked over at me with a very serious expression. “I will get organic Kitty Cuisine Niblets for Fuzzykins,” she informed me primly. “She is eating for seven and superior quality nutrition is critical.”
“Seven?!” I released the bag and stared at her, aghast. “Wait, there’ll be six copies of her ru
“Yes! Is it not wonderful?” she exclaimed, beaming. “I am still deciding on the names.”
My horror increased. “Are you pla
Her lovely brow furrowed. “I would not send them away if they do not want to go.” She frowned. “That would be barbaric.” Then she lifted her chin. “Whether they choose to go or remain, they need names.”
“Call them all Fred,” I suggested with a glower as we continued down the aisle.
“As they only have limited telepathic communication, that would be extremely confusing for them,” she stated as if lecturing a three-year-old. “Names are special. Unique.”
I groaned. “Telepathic . . .” I shook my head to rid it of the horrifying concept. “You’re telling me that Fuzzykins is okay with being called Fuzzykins?”
“Certainly!” She gave me a look as if wondering whether I suffered from some form of mental disorder. “I would not speak a name for her that brought her distress.”
I was saved from more talk of telepathic cats by the ringing of my phone. A Beaulac PD number. “Kara Gillian,” I answered.
“Hey, Gillian, it’s Marcel Boudreaux,” the familiar nasal voice said. “You busy right now?”
“Nope, whatcha got?” I said. Eagerly. Malfunctioning stop light? Cockroach invasion? Crowd control at a 90%-off shoe sale? Anything to get out of this store.