Witching Fire (The Wild Hunt #16) - Yasmine Galenorn Page 0,1
though he was a god, she was Queen of the Bean Sidhe and she scared the hell out of him.
“She’ll be here at three. It’s noon and I still have to do the shopping. You have three hours to clean this place until it’s spotless. And I might add, I expect this to stick. I hate micromanaging people. You’ve been teaching Raj bad habits.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“I should hope so. You know I hate clutter. I don’t keep a messy house, and I expect both of you to do your chores without complaint. Got it?” Hands on my hips, I stared them down. That was one thing about man-boys and gargoyles. Give them an inch and they’d take a mile.
Both gargoyle and god lowered their eyes and whispered another “Yes ma’am” before kicking it into high gear. As I headed into the bedroom—which, I might add, was clean since I had made the bed when we got up, and dusted—they attacked the mess like industrious worker bees. Sometimes you had to give people a kick in the ass, lovingly so.
Half an hour later, after cleaning the bedroom bathroom and tending to the ferrets, I grabbed my purse and keys. “I’m going shopping. Keep working while I’m gone.” I turned to see that Raj had already dragged out several of his toys again and left them on the floor. I knelt, holding them up. “Did Raj forget what Raven asked him to do?”
Raj hung his head. “Raj is sorry. Raj doesn’t mean to make a mess.”
“Raven knows that,” I said, giving him a hug. He was about the size of a rottweiler and as heavy as one, but he was a sweetheart. Most of the time, if he hurt someone, it was an accident. “It’s usually okay for Raj to make a mess, as long as he cleans it up without being reminded. But Raven and Kipa are having a party tonight, so the house needs to stay clean today. Does Raj understand?”
“Raj understands,” he said, his gloom lifting. He gave me a smile that was as innocent as a child’s. “Raj will do better for Raven. Raj loves Raven.”
“And Raven loves Raj,” I said. That was our pattern. Whenever I left, Raj always told me he loved me and I reaffirmed it back to him.
In some ways, he was very much like a child. In gargoyle years, he was still young. I doubted that Raj could ever fend for himself—not fully. He was in his formative years and growing up away from his own kind. He had had his wings cut off by a demon, and so he was unlike his brethren. And one thing I did know about the gargoyle world was that physical imperfection was considered unacceptable. They’d never take him back, given what the demon had done to him. Gargoyles weren’t kind to their disabled. So I made myself a promise that I would always take care of him, and we had been together for over fifty years.
Next, I kissed Kipa, who wrapped his arms around me. He was so gorgeous and charming it was hard to stay irritated at him.
“Are you sure you need to go to the store?” He leaned down to nuzzle my ear. “Hmm? Do we have time for—”
“No, we do not,” I said, even though the thought of running off to bed with him appealed to me far more than grocery shopping. “I’d love to, but there’s nothing in the cupboards and we promised people a buffet. Also, if I don’t go shopping, we’re not going to have anything to eat beyond a few cans of soup.”
“Then go, wench! Rip your beautiful self away from me and leave me yearning for your touch,” Kipa said, throwing his hand across his forehead. He squinted at me from below the shade of his arm. “Is it working?”
“Oh go on, fly.” I swatted him lightly. “You’re just being a drama queen now.”
“Drama king, my love,” he said, laughing. “I’m your king, and you’re my queen. So is it working? Won’t you stay for a while?”
“No, it’s not. Though that bulge pressing against my thigh is tempting. Now, get your handsome ass back to work. I’ll be home in a while.” I pressed against him for another long kiss, then broke out of his embrace and headed for the door. “And don’t give Raj any more sugar. You two gorged on waffles this morning and you used up the maple syrup. That’s enough sugar for now.”