Chapter Twenty-four
Cassie hurried into the kitchen and set the oven to 450 degrees, then placed the camp stew in the microwave for a few minutes while the oven preheated. “To knock the chill off,” she told Verbena, selecting the thaw option. When the microwaved dinged, she dumped the slushy stew into a heavy saucepan and turned it on low. Taking her favorite crockery bowl from the shelf, she mixed cornmeal, flour, eggs, oil, and rising ingredients together with buttermilk to form a batter.
Standing at Cassie’s elbow, Verbena watched this process. “Reckon you could learn me how to cook?”
“I’m not a gourmet, like Hank, but I’ll be glad to teach you what I know.”
“Don’t wanna be like Hank. Wanna be like you.” Verbena hesitated. “Reckon you could learn me to talk good, while you’s at it?” She looked down at her feet. “If’n you don’t think I’m too stupid.”
“You’re not stupid.” Cassie scraped the sides of the bowl with a spatula. “Proper speech is mostly a matter of habit and reading. The more you read, the more you’ll know. Dr. Seuss said that.”
“Who?”
“A very wise man, and a philosopher.”
“You got any of this Seuss feller’s books?”
“No, but I’m sure they have them at the Hannah Library.”
Verbena’s shoulders slumped. “Ain’t got a car.”
“Never mind. I’ll take you. While we’re there, you can get a library card. That way, you can check out any book you like.”
“Really?” Verbena’s eyes glowed.
“You betcha.”
“That ’ud be wonderful.”
Under the girl’s interested gaze, Cassie added more oil to a cast-iron frying pan and put it in the oven to heat. “When the oil’s hot, we’ll add the batter,” she explained. “The hot oil is what makes the crust nice and crunchy.”
Ten minutes later, Cassie removed the hot pan from the oven, using a thick mitt. Carefully, she placed the pan on a cold eye of the stove and emptied the contents of the bowl into the frying pan.
“Lordy,” Verbena exclaimed, jumping a little as the thick mixture hit the hot oil with a satisfying sizzle.
“And now we wait,” Cassie said, placing the cornbread in the oven.
Half an hour later, Toby strolled into the kitchen. “Cornbread smells good.”
“You get your appetite back?” Cassie asked.
“And then some. I could eat the ass out of a leather duck.”
Cassie laughed. “I see you found one of your old shirts.” She nodded at the table. “Take a load off. It’s almost done.”
“Cassie’s gon’ learn me to cook,” Verbena announced as Toby pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Teach you to cook,” Cassie murmured.
“Huh?”
“I’m going to teach you how to cook.”
“That, too. And she’s gon’ take me to the library so’s I can get me one of them books by that gopher feller.”
“Dr. Seuss,” Cassie said. “And I said he was a philosopher, not a gopher.”
“That right?” Toby rubbed his jaw to hide his smile. “Tell you what, you come home with me tonight—I’m still feeling puny, and I’d appreciate the company. First thing in the morning, I’ll take you to the library, then bring you back here.”
“Sure, Mr. Toby.” Verbena slid Cassie a knowing look. “Got me a notion, too. Reckon Mr. D and Cassie would like to be private.”
To Cassie’s annoyance, she blushed. Good grief, what was she, sixteen? But the girl was right. She wanted to be alone with Duncan.
Toby noticed her heightened color and chuckled. “Mind if I borrow the Dodge? My truck’s at the house.”
He was referring to the 1960s Dodge D100 pickup the former owners of her property had left as a lawn ornament. The truck had been sun-faded and sat on rotted tires. A scurry of squirrels had nested under the hood, gnawing holes in every belt and hose, but Cassie had fallen in love with the old blue and white beater on sight. Over the course of several years, she’d had it restored, installing a new engine and transmission, tires, and a refurbished interior and exterior.
“Of course, but there’s no rush,” Cassie said. “Eat something first.”
“Oh, I ain’t leaving until I eat,” Toby assured her. “Nobody ever called me to dinner twiced.”
While Toby ate, Verbena excused herself and went upstairs to pack her things for the night. “May take me a while,” she said. “I kind of throwed things in a bag when we was at the restaurant, and I need to sort ’em out.”
“Take your time,” said Toby. “I’m in no hurry.”
When Toby finished eating, he insisted on helping Cassie tidy up the kitchen. Afterward, they carried their tea glasses out onto the porch. It was late afternoon, maybe an hour before full dark, and the rich, musky scent of the river hung in the air. In the trees, birds sang a twilight aria before conceding the stage to the symphony of bugs and frogs waiting in the wings. A spring peeper near the water grew impatient and launched into a high-pitched chirp. A leopard frog, not to be outdone, answered with a chuckling croak.
“Choir practice,” Toby said with a grunt, taking a seat in one of the rockers. “I love to hear the critters sing.”
“Me, too,” Cassie said, plopping into the rocker beside him.
Something was different, but what? Then it dawned on her. The hammering had stopped. Either Duncan’s carpenters had grown tired of working overtime or his house was finished. What sort of house did a Dalvahni warrior build? she wondered. She tried to guess and gave up. There was no telling, but she was looking forward to finding out.
“You learn that technique in a master gardening class?”
“What?”
“The lawn.” Toby raised his glass, indicating Cassie’s once-green grass. “What the hell happened?”
Cassie looked out upon her formerly pristine landscape and sighed. The slope leading down to the river was scorched and pitted in dozens of places, the flower beds had been demolished, and Jeb had trampled her herb garden. Thinking of the work ahead of her made her tired. “Demon fight. Happened first thing this morning.”
“Must’ve been a doozy.” Toby pointed to the abandoned plinth near the river. “What’s that?”
“The base to Jeb Hannah’s statue.”
“You stole Jeb Hannah’s statue? Why in tarnation did you do that?”
“I didn’t steal it. It was there when I got up this morning.”
“Huh,” Toby said. “Demons put it there, did they?”
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure Duncan got pounded on chocolate and left it for me.”
“Most fellers bring flowers.”
“Duncan’s not ‘most fellers.’ ”
“I’ve noticed,” Toby said. “Where’s the rest of it? Or did the cheapskate just bring the base?”
Cassie chuckled. “Oh, he brought the whole thing.” She coughed a few words into her hand.
Toby sat up straight in the rocker. “Come again? I could swear you just said you brought Jeb to life.”
“I did,” Cassie said. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Jeb’s crackerjack at fighting demons.”
“He is?”
“Yep.” Cassie made a swinging motion with her hands. “Whacks them with his giant peanut.”
“His giant peanut,” Toby repeated, staring at her in disbelief. Rising from his chair, he eased to the edge of the porch and looked around as if he expected to see Jeb peeking from behind a bush. “Where is he now?”
“No idea. Wandering around somewhere. Last time I saw him, the sheriff was chasing him in his Jeep.”
“Good God almighty.”
Toby’s stunned expression and tone of utter astonishment sent Cassie into a fit of the giggles, and once she’d started laughing, she couldn’t stop. She laughed until her sides hurt and tears ran down her cheeks. Just when she’d catch her breath, she’d glance at Toby’s incredulous face, and that would set her off again. At length, however, the whoops subsided, and she collapsed against the back of the rocker to catch her breath, her sides aching.
“Good to hear you laugh,” Toby said. “You been wound tight since I don’t know when.”
“Oh, Toby.” On impulse, Cassie jumped up and threw her arms around him. “I do love you.”
“Love you, too, baby doll.” He gave her an awkward pat and pushed her gently away. “You need to calm down, boy,” he said, addressing someone behind her. “It ain’t what you think.”
Cassie whirled to find Duncan standing in the doorway.
“I am not a boy.” Duncan’s tawny eyes blazed. “I am older than you by millennia.”
“Yeah? Reckon being immortal don’t keep you from being an idjit.” Ignoring the signs of Duncan’s simmering temper, Toby turned back to Cassie. “If you’ll give me the keys to the Dodge, Verbena and I will shove off.”
“Sure,” Cassie said, hurrying inside to find her purse.
A quarter of an hour later, she waved good-bye to Verbena and Toby from the back porch as the Dodge puttered down the drive and disappeared into the trees. Her skin tingled with awareness, and the hair on her neck and arms stood on end. If she’d been standing in the open, she’d have hit the ground, certain she was about to be struck by lightning, but the sky was blue and cloudless.
A subtle, woodsy scent tickled her nose. Oh, there’s a storm brewing, all right, she thought. A storm of the Dalvahni kind.
The air thrummed with suppressed energy, and so did she. Let it come, she thought, vibrating with exhilaration. I’m ready. Been ready.
She turned. Duncan stood near the porch door, his expression stony and unyielding as marble. He radiated displeasure, and the nimbus surrounding him crackled and sparked with dark energy. He wasn’t merely angry. He was livid.
Cassie braced her legs and glared back at him. “Stop it. I know you’re ticked, and I know why.”
“Indeed?” His tone was flat, emotionless. “Pray, enlighten me.”
“You’re jealous.”
“You are mistaken. I am disappointed.” He folded his arms across his broad chest. “I thought we had an agreement—an exclusive relationship for so long as it lasts. I depart but briefly and return to find you in the arms of another.”
“I wasn’t ‘in his arms.’ I was giving him a hug. Friends do that, you know. Toby’s like family. We’ve known one another for more than a hundred years.”
“You declared your love for him. I heard you.” He took a deep breath, as though struggling with something, and let his arms drop. “So be it,” he said, his voice dull with weariness. “I release you. Be with him, an it pleases you.”
“Well, I don’t release you,” Cassie said as he started to shimmer around the edges. “So don’t even think about leaving.”
Duncan’s wavering form solidified, and he stared at her in surprise. “I do not understand.”
“Obviously.” Cassie tapped one sandaled foot. “Listen and listen good, Duncan Dalvahni, because I’m only going to say this once. I’ve got thirty years on Toby, but he’s always been like a father to me, maybe because he’s always looked much older. At any rate—”
“That is no longer the case,” Duncan said, interrupting. “Tobias’s mien is now that of a young and virile man. What is more, his appearance is not displeasing.”
“Yeah, he’s a real heartbreaker, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about him.”
“Which is?” Duncan asked, watching her with an intensity that was unnerving.
“I love Toby, but I’m not in love with him. I don’t want to marry him. I’ve never had sex with him and I don’t want to. I want to have sex with you. Is that plain enough, or do I have to spell it out?”
“I believe I possess sufficient intelligence to grasp your meaning.”
“And another thing,” Cassie said, the words welling from a place of deep frustration. “I didn’t have sex with Zeb. We had dinner a few times, and that was it. He kissed me. Once. Our . . . relationship, if you can call it that, ended the night I saw you in the parking lot of Beck’s Bar. So you can stop being jealous of him, too.”
“So noted.”
“Excellent.” Cassie marched across the porch and shoved past him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long day, and I’m tired.”
“Hold.”
Such was his tone of command that Cassie froze with her hand on the doorknob.
“Our arrangement still stands, then?”
His deep, rich baritone sent a quiver of awareness through her. Merciful heavens, he was going to be the death of her.
Closing her eyes briefly, she faced him. “Yeah, but not if you’re going to be a dick, and not if—”
He jerked her into his arms and kissed her, a bruising caress of possession and desire. Cassie’s head swam as the world dissolved around them and they fell into nothingness. She clung to Duncan and cried out, but in the space of a moment, they were back on solid ground. She opened her eyes and gasped. The porch and house were gone, and they stood in a large clearing deep in the woods. Silhouetted against the purpling sky was an enormous tree with thick, spreading limbs, a trunk the size of a small house, spreading roots like steel girders, and a dome-shaped crown. The tree shone in the gloom like a burst of fireworks, aglow with the light from myriad lanterns that twinkled among the leafy branches like lightning bugs.
Nestled high among the massive limbs was an elaborate tree house, three circular pods with pitched, shingled roofs and railed porches connected by walkways. The cottage in the tree shone with welcoming light, and a soft breeze coaxed a winsome tune from the wind chimes dangling from the eaves. A spiral staircase with burled and twisted railings wound around the huge trunk. It was altogether lovely and magical, like something out of a fairy tale.
“It’s beautiful,” Cassie said, enchanted. “I half expect a troop of elves to greet us over the railings.”
“The elves went home.”
Startled, Cassie opened her mouth to ask for an explanation, but her question was forgotten when Duncan swept her into his arms. “I can walk,” she protested as he started up the curving staircase.
“A thrall will be silent.”
Oho. So that’s how we’re playing this.
Cassie’s insides fluttered, and she was jittery and shaky with excitement. She was going to be his thrall, his to command.
And then he would be hers, his gorgeous body subject to her every whim.
Her every whim—Cassie resisted the urge to wriggle with excitement. In the years of their separation—one hundred and eighty-two in all—no one had compared to Duncan. No one had even come close. He was the gold standard.
One-hundred eighty-two years, sixty-five days, and nine hours, her inner voice said. But who’s counting?
Cassie ignored the pesky whisper. She needed this, and she refused to overanalyze it. She and Duncan were going to have sex. No baggage. No pretensions. No false protestations of devotion. No emotional scenes. She would be his plaything, and he would be hers, satisfaction guaranteed. Was she brilliant or what?
Clueless, more like, the crafty voice said.
Cassie stifled the squeam. You just couldn’t make some folks happy.
She settled back to enjoy the ride as Duncan climbed the stairs that wound around the tree and among the lighted branches. The lanterns swayed at the slightest whiffet of air, setting shadows dancing along the limbs and the rough trunk. She studied Duncan, memorizing his features. Looking at him was no chore. He was extraordinarily beautiful—unreal, even, like something rendered by an artist’s brush. Strong, stubborn jaw, cleft chin, and prominent cheekbones. And his mouth . . . firm and kissable. Designed to make a woman sigh.
It was perfect, really, that mouth, the bottom lip slightly fuller than the upper. When he was in a teasing mood, the corners tilted just so, expressing amusement and tenderness, but when he was angered or displeased, that gorgeous mouth firmed to a hard, intractable line.
Right now, his jaw was set, and his oh-so-tempting mouth was tightly under control. Toby thought she was wound too tight? Duncan was a coiled spring.
Excellent, she thought, itching to trace the stern line of his jaw with her fingers. I’ll make you relax, Mr. Dalvahni, and in the loveliest way.
They neared the top of the huge tree, and Duncan stepped onto a deck inlaid in a complex pattern of alternating planks of dark and light wood. Cassie expected him to set her down then, but he kept going. He showed not the slightest strain from carrying her, but then he was Dalvahni and supernaturally strong.
The railed porch encircled the tree, and Duncan strode along the soaring walkway until he came to a heavily carved white oak door. He muttered something in a language Cassie did not recognize, and the door swung silently open.
He carried her inside and lowered her to the floor. Cassie looked around, wide-eyed, at a bedroom unlike any she’d ever seen. The walls were curved and finished in gleaming woods of varying hues. White oak pillars supported the high, conical roof and beamed ceiling. Centered beneath a large skylight was an oversized bed with carved posts that resembled the antlers of some fantastic beast. A large tub was sunk in the floor in front of three arched windows with a spectacular view of the night sky.
Cassie was enchanted. She wandered around the room, taking in details she’d missed: a bookshelf cleverly tucked behind a soaring pillar, the spiral design of the beamed tower ceiling, a comfy divan situated in front of a large window that invited a cozy session with a good book.
She paused in front of a large, arched window with her back to Duncan and gazed out at the velvet sky studded with stars. This place was so beautiful it made her throat ache, a hidden aerie apart from the world, sheltered and safe. Inexplicably, she was filled with sadness and an unnamable longing.
“When you said that you were building a house, I didn’t expect this.” Her throat tightened with sudden tears. “This . . . Duncan, this is beyond lovely, like something from another world.”
“A thrall was instructed to wear her hair down.”
Cassie stilled, confused and disconcerted by his harsh, peremptory tone and his abrupt dismissal of her.
“Excuse me?”
“A thrall would do well to plead with a warrior. A thrall swore to abide by a warrior’s wishes. A thrall has not done so.”
“I said I would wear my hair down, but it was hot,” Cassie said. “I was cooking, and—”
“A thrall will take it down, and now.”