Floote bravely interjected at this juncture. “Please, madam, lower your voice. We are not yet out of danger.”
“You sent me away!” Alexia hissed, low and fierce.
“No, I didna—that is, not really. I didna intend it that way. You should have known I didna mean it. You should have realized I needed time to recover from being an idiot.”
“Oh, really? How was I to know idiocy was only a temporary condition, especially in your case? It never has been before! Besides which, vampires were trying to kill me.”
“And they didna try to kill you here as well as back home? ’Tis a good thing I had enough sobriety left to send Channing after you.”
“Oh, I like that… Wait, what did you say? Sobriety? You mean while I’ve been running across Europe pregnant, escaping ladybugs, flying in ornithopters, landing in mud, and drinking coffee, you have been inebriated?”
“I was depressed.”
“You were depressed? You!” Alexia actually started to sputter, she was so angry. She looked up at her husband, which was always a strange experience, for she was a tall woman used to looking down on people. Lord Maccon could loom all he liked; so far as she was concerned, she was not impressed.
She poked him in the center of his chest with two fingers to punctuate her words. “You are an unfeeling”—poke—“traitorous”—poke—“mistrusting”—poke—“rude”—poke—“booby!” Every poke turned him mortal, but Lord Maccon didn’t seem to mind it in the least.
Instead he grabbed the hand that poked him and brought it to his lips. “You put it very well, my love.”
“Oh, don’t get smarmy with me, husband. I am nowhere near finished with you yet.” She started poking him with the other hand. Lord Maccon grinned hugely, probably, Alexia realized, because she had slipped up and called him “husband.”
“You kicked me out without a fair trial. Do stop kissing me. And you didn’t even consider that the child might be yours. Stop that! Oh, no, you had to leap to the worst possible assumption. You know my character. I could never betray you like that. Just because history says it is not possible doesn’t mean there aren’t exceptions. There are always exceptions. Look at Lord Akeldama—he is practically an exception to everything. Why, it took only a little research in the Templar records and I figured it out. Stop kissing my neck, Conall, I mean it. Templars should have practiced more of the scholarly arts and stopped whacking about at everything willy-nilly.” She reached into her cleavage and produced the small, now-garlic-scented Roman curse tablet, which she waved at her husband. “Look right here! Evidence. But not you, oh no. You had to act first. And I was stuck running around without a pack.”
Lord Maccon managed to get a word in at this point, but only because Lady Maccon had run out of breath. “It looks like you managed to build your own pack, anyway, my dear. A parasol protectorate, perhaps one might say.”
“Oh, ha-ha, very funny.”
Lord Maccon leaned forward and, before she could resume her tirade, kissed her full on the mouth. It was one of his deep, possessive kisses. It was the kind of embrace that made Alexia feel that somewhere in there, even though her touch had stolen all the werewolf out of him, he might still want to gobble her right up. She continued poking him absently even as she curled into his embrace.
Just as swiftly as he had started, he stopped. “Ew!”
“Ew? You kiss me when I haven’t even finished yelling at you and then you say ‘ew’!” Alexia jerked out of her husband’s grasp.
Conall stopped her with a question. “Alexia, darling, have you been eating pesto recently?” He started rubbing at his nose as though it were itching. His eyes began to water.
Alexia laughed. “That’s right—werewolves are allergic to basil. You see the full force of my revenge?” She could touch him and the allergic reaction would probably stop immediately, but she stood back and watched him suffer. Funny that even as a mortal, he had reacted badly to the taste of her supper. She resigned herself to a life without pesto, and with that thought realized she was going to forgive her husband.
Eventually.
The werewolf in question approached her cautiously once more, as if he was afraid if he moved too fast she would panic and bolt. “It’s been a long time since I tasted that flavor, and I never liked it, even as a human. I’ll put up with it, though, if you really