“Change is hard. I know you aren’t used to sharing your space.” He wrapped his arm around me and kissed my forehead.

Snuggling into his arm, I looked around the room. When really forcing myself to look at it, what I saw was a giant pigpen. My clothes were scattered everywhere. Two hairballs had dried on the floor, and the third that Shade had stepped in was still wet. Candy wrappers scattered across the floor beside my side of the bed, along with empty soda cans and a half-finished bag of Cheetos. My closet was a whirlwind.

On the other hand, Shade’s closet was ordered, with his clothes neatly lined up on hangers. His nightstand was clear except for what he needed. It wasn’t OCD-clean but definitely tidy. As I looked at him, at the warmth in his eyes, I suddenly understood. I was in an adult relationship. I was sharing my life and my room with a man I loved. The house might be in my sisters’ names and my name, but it was also Shade’s home. And he was here for the long run.

“Okay.” I straightened my shoulders. “How about this: We clean together. Every night, we pick up a little. I’ll clean up my hairballs and keep the litter box clean. You take out the garbage. We do laundry together. I guess it’s only fair. Hanna’s going to have her hands full with so many people here, and Iris isn’t going to be in any mood or shape to handle the work after a couple months.”

Shade brightened. “You’d do that, for me?”

“If you do something for me.” A thought occurred to me—something I knew that I probably couldn’t budge him to do without leverage.

He seemed to sense I was up to something. “And what is that?”

Grinning, I licked my lips. “You know that fantasy I told you about? The Jerry Springer one?”

He closed his eyes and began to shake his head. “No, oh no—I told you I wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face.”

I pressed my fingers to his lips. “Oh yes. Yes, you will. It’s called compromise. Couples compromise. I learned that from Camille and her men.” Laughing now, I stood and turned to straddle his lap, pushing him back on the bed. “And you, my love, are going to compromise with me.”

“Am I really, now? Are you so sure I’m ready to…compromise?” He wrapped his hands around my waist as his breathing deepened. I leaned down and pressed my lips to his, feeling the warmth of his breath fill my mouth. I nibbled his neck, tripping my fingers down his chest, sliding my hands under his shirt.

“Oh, you’re ready. Trust me.” But as I leaned in for another kiss, someone pounded on the door.

“Delilah! Shade! We need you downstairs, now.” When Menolly spoke in that tone of voice, everybody jumped. “Get off your asses and hurry!”

Whoa. I hadn’t heard her that upset in a long time.

We scrambled up and adjusted our clothing, then hurried downstairs. Menolly was already back in the kitchen when we came dashing in. Camille was there, along with Smoky, Trillian, and Vanzir.

“What’s up? Please tell me not another explosion.” Shade and I accepted mugs of tea from Trillian.

“We got a call from Chase. There’s been an ugly incident. We have to get down to the FH-CSI.” Camille jumped up and yawned, grabbing her keys.

“What’s going on?” A voice from the kitchen door startled me. I whirled around to see Marion standing there, clutching the terry robe tightly around her. She’d borrowed it from Menolly.

“Yet another incident. We have to roll. You and Douglas stay here. Just go back to bed and get more rest.” I patted her shoulder. She bit her lip, then nodded. She looked so tired and so lost.

As Marion vanished back to the parlor, Camille let out a long breath. “She’s gone through so much. The loss of her sister. The loss of her house.”

“Yeah, that’s why we’re doing this. For people like Marion. To keep the Tregarts—and their boss—from turning this world into a far worse hell than it already is.” I swallowed my self-pity. So I’d only had three and a half hours of sleep. At least we still had our house to come home to.

Camille motioned to Trillian and Smoky. “We’re leaving Morio at home. He still gets tired easier than usual. I’m making him stay home to sleep.”

Vanzir, who was eating a toast and peanut butter sandwich, yawned. “I’ll stay here, too. Shamas is still asleep. He has to get up in an hour to go to work and he needs to be on his A-Game while he’s on duty. Man, two hours of sleep isn’t enough for even me.”

“Rozurial’s still crashed out.” Menolly shrugged. “He looked so peaceful when I went down to the studio to wake up him and Vanzir, I decided to let him sleep. That way Roz and Morio will be fresh later today in case we need down time. We might want to sleep in shifts from now until we catch Van and Jaycee, so we always have fresh blood. And speaking of blood…” Menolly glanced at the clock. It was nearly five thirty.

“Maybe you’d better stay home, too. We don’t know how long we’ll be out and it’s almost dawn.”

She nodded. “Right. I’ll stay here and finish going through the last pages of the day planner and phone book. I don’t want to get caught out in daylight and, knowing what’s happened lately, if we get caught up in something big, I could fry.”

Nodding, I picked up my keys and backpack. Shade and I headed out to my car, while Camille, Smoky, and Trillian headed to hers. As the clouds parted to let the luminous dark through, I breathed in the crisp air. February was a grueling month in the Seattle area. Rainy, cold, sometimes a snowstorm, wind and gloom…the city streets never seemed as gritty as they did on a cold February night.

Shade stared out the window as we sped along. After a few minutes, he turned to me. “I love you. You know that, don’t you? I’ve loved you for a long time, far before you met me.”

I smiled, keeping my eyes on the road. “I do. And I love you.”

“How much do you love me?” The tone of his voice suddenly took a solemn turn. I darted a glance his way. He was looking bemused, staring at the windshield wipers as they slashed back and forth.

Unsure what he was up to, I hesitated. “I said I love you. Um…you want me to stretch my arms and say this much?” When he remained silent, I chewed the inside of my lip, then said, “Where’s this going?”

“Where it’s going is to the subject of that ring I gave you when we first met. The one you put on your finger to summon me to your side?” He pointed to the chunky smoky quartz that I hadn’t taken off since I first slid it onto the ring finger of my right hand.

A funny feeling shifted in my stomach. “Yeah?”

“I told you then, you’d be making a choice. And you made it. Do you regret it? Even a little?”

Suddenly feeling short of breath, I shook my head, praying he wasn’t going to break up with me. Sometimes love wasn’t enough to conquer differences. Sometimes…“No, I’ve never regretted it. You help me feel complete. If this is about the room—I promise, I’ll be less of a slob.”

Another pause while I fretted.

Then: “In a way, this is about the room, yes. But not what you think.”

“What is it?”

“Just…this. I figure, since we’re sharing a room and sharing chores, and sharing a bed…and since our master has chosen us for each other and it’s turned out to be a match made in heaven…then why don’t we make it official? Promise me that—when you’re ready—you’ll become my wife?”

Tears blurring my eyes, I pulled over to the side of the road and parked. As I turned to Shade, my heart began to swell. Here was this man who wanted to share my life with me. Who accepted me for all of my faults and flaws. I turned to him. “You and the Autumn Lord are the two loves of my life.”

They were both halves of the same whole. One was eternal, one was on my realm. My lips trembling, I reached for him, struggling against the seat belt, and kissed him long and deep. After a moment, I pulled back and took his hands in mine. “I never want to disappoint you. I want you in my life always. Yes, I’ll marry you. I’ll be your wife.”

“When do you want to get married? Any time you want, be it tomorrow, or in ten years. Just name the date.”

That, I couldn’t answer. I knew that—as much as I was happy to say “yes” to being engaged, I wasn’t prepared to actually get married yet. I shook my head. “I don’t know. Not yet, I know I’m not ready yet. But I am ready to promise you my future. Is that good enough for now?”

“Oh, Delilah, dirty cat box, hairballs on the pillow, Jerry Springer fantasies…it’s all part of you. And you, my love, are better than I deserve.” He pressed my hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “I leave it to you to name the date. I can wait—I’ve waited a long time to be with you. I’m a patient dragon.”

And, just like that, we were engaged.

Putting the Jeep in gear again, I turned back to the road, and we silently headed to the FH-CSI.

Chapter 17

As we hit the offices, Chase was waiting. He motioned for us to follow him. “Smoky, will you and the guys wait in conference room A? Camille and Delilah? Follow me, please.” He led us out the door toward the medical unit.

“Has someone been hurt? Has there been another explosion?” Camille and I were actually hard pressed to keep up with him.

He stopped abruptly and turned, his expression strained. “We’ve got a situation and it’s not one we can—or should—cover up. A woman was gang-raped an hour ago by a group of bikers from the Freedom’s Angels. They roughed her up and used a knife to carve the words Faerie Slut on her arm. I’ve got a citywide search going on, but we need to see if she can identify any mug shots.”

“This has gone too far.” Camille slammed her hand against the wall. “Something has to be done about these freaks.”

I put my hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. “What can we do, Chase? You know the climate of the city better than we do. What’s going to help?”

He smiled for the first time, a tight, white smile. “First, you can talk to her, see if she tells you more than she’s telling us. Second…the way she described a couple of the men, they sound like Tregarts. The more I think about it, the more I think that the demons are infiltrating the Freedom’s Angels to divide and conquer. Look at what happened at the Davinaka Mall. Same situation. What if they stir up enough anger between the Supes and the FBHs? It’s going to be easier to come in and take over.”

“But why—if they’re working for Trytian, and were working for Stacia Bonecrusher…hold on.” A thought occurred to me that I really didn’t want to think. “We’ve been assuming that all the Tregarts were working with Stacia, against Shadow Wing, and that all of them are now working for Trytian. But what if Shadow Wing used that assumption to his benefit? What if they’ve been on his side the whole time? And what about Van and Jaycee? Do we know if they were really in Stacia’s pocket? What if they were spying on her and reporting back to Shadow Wing?”

Breathless, I dropped to a bench in the hall and leaned my head between my knees, trying to calm the swirl of thoughts running through my head. I wanted to shift, but this wasn’t the time. I needed to maintain control.

Camille sat down beside me and took my hand, looking as pale as I felt. After a moment, I let out my breath in a slow stream and sat up.

“You think they might be double agents?”

“It makes perfect sense. Suppose Shadow Wing knew about Stacia Bonecrusher’s attempted coup? And suppose he sent her over here, knowing she might betray him, to either prove or disprove her loyalty? And in the meantime, he also sent Van and Jaycee to connect with her and put her to the test. We just accepted that they were totally in sync with Stacia.” I shook my head. “We could have been totally off about everything here.”

Camille rubbed her forehead, wincing. “If that’s so, then there’s the chance that Telazhar trained Stacia at Shadow Wing’s request. That she turned on him, too? If Telazhar is in the Demon Lord’s pocket, then he’s over here looking for ways to either rip open a new portal or gate in more demons.” Camille gestured helplessly. “If we’re right, we’ve wasted a lot of time assuming Shadow Wing hasn’t been active over here for a few months.”

Chase exhaled loudly. “This mucks up the works, all right. But I need you to talk to this victim, please. Then we can figure out where to go from here.”

We nodded, mutely. If we were right, then the war had taken a darker turn. And, if we were right, then Trytian was playing right into Shadow Wing’s hands and the entire Demon Underground was in danger.

I was about to mention this to Camille when we stopped in front of the ER. Chase led us in, after knocking gently. Sharah was standing beside the exam table. The stirrups were still in position, but the victim was sitting up as Sharah stitched up slash marks on her arm. The woman was Fae, with glimmering blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. Her glamour shone through the cloud of shame and anger. She had a black eye, a busted lip, and bruises on both wrists and ankles.

Sharah nodded us over. Chase hung back. We slowly approached the table and I could see the words carved into the victim’s arm. Faerie Slut. Wincing, I looked at Sharah, waiting for her lead.

She finished stitching up the last of the cuts. “Camille, Delilah, this is Alfina. She’s from Otherworld and came over to visit Talamh Lonrach Oll.”

Alfina let out a shuddering breath and gave us a short nod.

Camille drew up one of Sharah’s swivel stools and sat down, and Sharah pointed me toward the chair at the computer where she input all the wounds and treatments going through the FH-CSI emergency ward. Sitting down was a lot less intimidating than standing up, and regardless of whether she was Fae or human, a rape victim didn’t need any more intimidation than she’d already undergone.