“How freaking cool is that!” she shouted, tickled by the discovery and looking down to the bottomless tub. Then, testing it, she stood, amazed that there was an invisible floor that held her weight. “Way cool. How did you guys do that?” She stomped around in the tub for a few moments. “I can walk on water! Crazy!”
Totally revived, she held on to the side of the tub and propelled herself out of it in a swift vault. Her wolf was raging, wanting to run under the moonlight, but she thought better of it, half-Fae euphoria high or not.
When she wrapped herself in the thick, newly warmed towel, she moaned. The bench might as well have been spa-hot rocks that heated it to a luxurious temperature, massaging and sloughing her skin with tiny fingers as she snuggled down into it.
Had a robe not appeared on a hook she’d never noticed, she would have taken the towel with her to bed. It never got wet, just renewed itself with dry warmth. She looked at the fluffy white robe and let out a sated breath. “If you’re charmed, just stick a fork in me because I’ll be done.”
It took several minutes to release the towel. But unexpected warm air blanketed her instead of the normal knifing cold air that would be in her bathroom. Yeah… The Fae were the best when they rolled out the red carpet. No wonder the Vampires hated them so much. Plus their guys could come out during the day and were just as handsome.
“Haters,” Sasha said, giggling and holding a conversation between the self inside her head and the self outside her head. “Man… this is some really strong euphoria… whew!” She pulled on the robe, closed the sash and then gasped, sitting down on the bench hard with a thud.
Loving sensuality poured over her skin, caressing her as though it were applying body oil. Peacefulness and desire became one. But when she felt her nipples tighten and her body begin to get moist, she stood and quickly headed to the armoire.
Basic common sense told her to find something else to sleep in. If she fell asleep in the charmed robe, she was going to start a wolf war with her howl.
Sasha flung open the armoire doors, practically frantic, and began hunting. But sheer, lace gowns, obscenely indecent lingerie, and white silk sheaths glistened back at her, clearly charmed. The other options weren’t much better. There was an elaborate ball gown that stole her focus for a moment, and she pulled it out to hold it up against her as she stared into the full-length mirror attached to the door.
It was a glimmering blend of moss greens and woodland earth tones splashed across a sheer overlay with a forest-green silk sheath. The arms were bare, cut in a scoop to reveal her shoulders, but the front came up at the neck and was collared by exquisite genuine emerald bead-work. She turned sideways and pulled out the train and noticed that it was backless. But sheer panels fanned out on the floor-the gown was so beautiful that she gently returned it to the white padded hanger with reverence. A pair of silver-heeled, amber-and emerald-crusted shoes sat twinkling on the crystal rack beside a small emerald-encrusted purse. A white, velvet case revealed teardrop emerald and amber earrings.
“Oh, Sir Rodney… you shouldn’t have.” The note inside read, Happy birthday, love. She quickly closed the case and put it back, deeply conflicted, as she gently shut the armoire door.
Food. She needed to eat, clear her head, and stay focused. It didn’t matter that she’d brought a really inexpensive little black dress from Target to go with a pair of basic black pumps to wear for her birthday. She had never been a fashionista and black seemed to work with everything-but damn. If she wore that to the ball, she’d be vastly underdressed. But if she wore what Sir Rodney had left for her…
Sasha slapped her cheeks. She had to stop thinking about irrelevant things! “Steak, rare, with string beans-not too mushy, cooked but still crunchy… And, uh, new potatoes and a really, really cold beer would be nice,” she called out, testing Rupert’s instructions.
Within seconds the smell of broiled meat filled the room.
“Gotta love the Fae,” she murmured, pacing to the table.
A chair moved itself out for her to take a seat. Sasha just shook her head and plopped down. What the platter revealed made her close her eyes and say a little prayer. Gratitude filled every fiber of her being as she took up her fork and knife to find that there was no need for a steak knife. It was free-range bison, marinated to perfection and so tender that all she had to do was gently press the side of her fork into it and the meat cut. “Damn…”
It was impossible not to wolf down her meal, and the cold beer that she’d asked for made her stop with the first sip and close her eyes, holding the chalice in midair. “Oh, man…”
Bread baked to Dwarf perfection with honey butter made her lose her manners as she sopped up the juice on her plate and moaned with every bite. Until she had started eating, she hadn’t realized how starved she’d been. The vegetables were grilled to perfection, the potatoes so sweet and tender they melted like the bread on her tongue. Every bite of her steak made her close her eyes and moan out loud. By the time she covered the platter with the silver dome and polished off her second chalice of ale, she could barely keep her eyes open.
But it was amazing what a bath and full belly could do to a she-wolf’s mind. Relaxation brought clarity. Sasha sat up slowly. They didn’t have to do a frontal assault on a powerful Unseelie queen that would put the Fae at war. Queen Blatand of Hecate, for all her possibly unsavory qualities, most likely was unaware of the goings-on of the lower members of her court. Woman to woman and leader to leader, Sasha had to admit that she’d be equally pissed off if someone attacked her base just because Bear Shadow or Woods did something stupid.
Sasha stared at the moonlight. If something like that happened, the first instinct would be a defensive strike-then, and only then, would there be conversations about who’d shot John… And then the bottom line would be where was the respect? Why didn’t your nation come to our nation and lodge the complaint? There was no warning shot fired over the bow and you’ve attacked us? Nah… the Wolf Clans wouldn’t go for that, either, so why would a powerful Unseelie queen?
There had to be a way of forcing her hand, diplomatically, into outing the members of her own court that were involved in wrongdoing. And those guys were most likely here, not overseas wherever she resided.
An angry smile tugged at Sasha’s cheek. If they were with Vampires, an attack had already been launched against her people at Dugan’s old B &B… which meant that they had technically gone after Winters on Fae land. The Seelie Fae owned Dugan’s old spot, as well as the bar that Winters was running from. Winters was a clearly unarmed human that was resident in a Fae hostel, thus a guest, and therefore, by UCE law, the Vampires had launched an unprovoked attack on both the Fae and a member of the Shadow Wolf Clan’s protected membership. Beautiful. Baron Montague was gonna spit out his eyeteeth over this!
“Yeah…” Sasha said, thinking out loud. They could burn Vampire lairs in daylight looking, supposedly, for the female-the redhead-by law. And, knowing the Vampires, they would out the Unseelie spell-caster that had cost them so much prime real estate. Once they had the little son of a bitch in custody, they’d turn the screws on him… Wouldn’t take much; Shadow Wolves could always smell a lie. An emergency UCE trial could be called by the second night, and the Unseelie queen would be barred from retaliation. “Damn, Sir Rodney… I wish you didn’t have to wait for the morning to get this,” she murmured.
A light knock on her door startled her and yanked her focus away from the window. Flustered, she got up and went to the door, tucking her wet hair up into a loose twist. For a few seconds she just stared.