the remains, the two witches also had to sit in the trailer. Astrid and T. Laine emerged deathly ill from the stink, but free of contamination, and once they were free, the coven sealed the null trailer and set a twelve-hour timer to completely deactivate the shirts, carpet scraps, and bodies.
As we ate, deputies and witches ran around like ants. Overworked paramedics took the last of the patients to UTMC. Law enforcement changed out shifts except for us; we had no replacements. Official vehicles drove away. Etain flashed across the driveway, modern and trim and everything I wasn’t. I looked down at my hands in the dark: square, hardworking hands, calloused from gardening, hauling dirt, splitting wood, and shoveling snow. My woody nails. Occam said, “I reckon we should go see what’s happening, but”—he took a deep breath—“I’m too tuckered out to care right now, Nell, sugar.”
“I don’t care either,” I said, because I was busy thinking about the green footprints tracking through my soul. As I watched Etain dart across again, I was aware that Occam watched me.
Occam pushed the vampire tree’s crate to the middle of the dash, out of the way, and said, a soft cat-purr in his voice, “I love you to the full moon and back, Nell, sugar.” Which was exactly the right thing to say.
It reminded me that Occam had given me his heart and my own melted. But . . .
“You got something on your mind, woman,” he said softly, the entire state of Texas in his drawl. “Spit it out.”
I frowned, thinking. There were so many things that could or might get in the way of our relationship. Simple things like me being jealous. Or growing leaves. Or him being moon-called and needing to mate with a female werecat. Did he want that? A werecat woman?
I swiveled in the seat to face him, bending one knee under the steering wheel. “I come from a polygamous background, Occam. Jealousy was a prevalent and pervasive problem, and some men used it to keep their women in line. I understand that a lot of men need to feel attractive to younger and prettier women, and I know I ain’t a cat-woman and that you might want one someday. And I know that mating urge might, or could, maybe, be stronger than usual in you right now since you been so puny looking for the last few months and I—”
Occam coughed out a cat laugh, stopping my words. “Nell, sugar, forgive me for interrupting, but I gotta say this before you say anything that might be the beginning of our first argument.” He leaned in slightly and took my chin in his hand, turning me to face him. He stroked along my jaw with the pad of his thumb, his fingers heated and gentle. He held my gaze with his. Something that might have been lust filled his eyes and they glowed pale gold. His voice a cat growl, he said, “Puny looking? I looked like a horror movie for the last few months and it never bothered me one whit.”
“No?” I managed as a whisper.
“No.” He leaned closer to me, his nose only inches from mine, his eyes glowing the gold of his were-creature. His voice went all scratchy, like a mad cat. “More importantly, it never bothered you. In fact, it wouldn’ta bothered you if I’da stayed as scarred and hairless as I started out. That right there is worth more than gold to me. So you listen and you listen good. I don’t now, and I never will, as long as the moon is in the sky and breath is in my lungs, need the attention of any other woman or werecat.”
His voice dropped lower, a full-on growl. “‘Doubt thou the stars are fire; / Doubt that the sun doth move; / Doubt truth to be a liar; / But never doubt I love you to the full moon and back.’” His lips twisted wryly. “That right there is a little bit of slightly mangled Shakespeare. I learned it because I know you love his writing. I don’t understand every word, but I understand the meaning. And I never have, and I never will quote them words to another creature as long as I live.”
Tears had gathered in my eyes and my mouth had opened as he quoted poetry to me, and it formed an O as I said, “Oh.”
“I said,” he said firmly, “I love you to the full moon and back.