"You seemed angry when you came up here." She slipped her hand from his hold.
He shook his head no slowly. "No. I was a lot of things, but angry wasn't one of them."
"Can you just tell me the whole conversation, coherently?"
Again he shook his head slowly. "Not right now I can't." His gaze scored her, then trailed down to the Isis.
"Why not?"
"It's a matter of honor," he said evenly.
Her hand went to her hip. "Whose?"
"Yours," he said in a low voice. He hadn't moved, his eyes now slowly trailing back up her arm to her throat. "Damali... back off for now." It sounded like a half-hearted request. "Please."
He could feel her mood lighten as she paced away from him a few feet. He walked out onto the terrace; he needed some air. He heard her footsteps behind him and sighed. But he allowed her hand to rest on his shoulder.
In fits and starts his mind tried to tackle the problem. The visit to the council to get a passport, the inspection, the ball of nerves this whole ordeal inspired, then Damali's fluctuations, then having to go head-to-head with a strong master, and now a hit of pure Neteru梐ll of it was wearing him out.
He sent fleeting transmissions, like slow sips, as not to batter her senses. If he came at her full throttle, he'd render her a vegetable, would fry her brain. The power struggle contained in a council to master negotiation was lethal to a human being, and he had no idea if even a Neteru could handle it. He even told her that, and could feel her body relax, then tried to communicate as best he could the way negotiations had gone down. The sender had to revisit the sensations in order to broadcast them. He was still feeling the aftershocks, and with Neteru in the air, it was no wonder McGuire had thundered down the hall in search of a female.
"Wow," she whispered, awe in her voice.
"Yeah," he murmured, trying not to howl at the moon. Then he chuckled, the laughter a tension release. "Had to remember a few good episodes, girl, to make the offer worthwhile. You will be nice to the man, won't you?"
They shared a private smile, and she nodded. "I'll do him the way he deserves to be done," she said for any spies to hear.
Carlos smiled, but it was strained. Watching her play the game so good was not helping his condition in the least. But he was proud of her, knew she'd be able to smoke McGuire with one blade stroke. If not, well... he'd have to rescind the offer and rip out the man's heart. Nah, it wouldn't even come to that. McGuire's nose was wide open. This was a sure bet.
Peeping over her shoulder toward the door sheepishly, she smiled and shook her head. "Dead or alive, you know men are crazy, right?"
"Dead or alive, you know women are treacherous, right?" Carlos stared out at the moon. "Y'all make promises you don't keep, change your minds on a dime, and take a man through changes. You know that, right?"
"Like y'all don't? Beside... it's not a change, it's a bittersweet transition."
They both laughed, and she took his hand and led him inside as the timer locks began to engage to seal the suite. Safely shut in, he stood with her before the gurgling fountain, then began putting the room back together so no evidence of the damage could be seen. He had to do something to distract himself.
"It's late and we should probably go to bed."
He smiled as she walked in front of him, with the blade still in one hand, toward the bar. She took down a bottle of blood from the wine rack and then walked toward the bedroom. "But first, you definitely need to get something to eat."
"Yeah, I do," he said, his tone playful.
She ignored him and went down the steps - he had no choice but to follow her, then sealed the door behind them. She set the bottle down on the dresser and spun the locks on the terrace door, then closed the drapes. He didn't move toward the bottle, just stood transfixed as she walked around the room giving him wide berth, then sat slowly on the edge of the bed.
Half of him wished that she'd transform one more time; the other half of him was glad that she was back to her old self again.
"This is going to be a long day," he said, finally finding the will to walk over to the bottle and open it.
"I wouldn't want to make you vulnerable in a castle with a competing master," she said, not looking at him as she stretched out on top of the covers and tucked her blade next to her.
"I think he's distracted at the moment," Carlos said, taking a swig and leaning against the dresser, his eyes never leaving her voluptuous form.
"Never can be too sure," she replied, smiling. "But tell me about these other guys we're up against."
He took another healthy swig and swallowed it hard. "Is this what happens to a man once he gets married?" He'd evaded the question and delighted in her smile, the way it played on her lips as she tried to think of a quick comeback. Every instinct in him told him he needed his rest and should be regenerating for a major battle of wills that evening. But it was the way the soft candles lit her skin, and the way she glanced at him shyly... and there was just something so erotic about that blade being in bed with her, too.
"Tell me about the other masters, Carlos."