Friday, January 21, 2011

I sit back sipping the coffee Patti has made for me. My notebook is open before me and I tap my pen on the pages. There have been no other attacks on any of the swords the Adhene is seeking. Traeger has noticed someone skulking in the alley the last few nights. Ob has agreed to wear the replica. Pandora is hiding her concern better than I expected, but it still shows. We can put that down to her pregnancy.

The Tavern looks great. Poinsettias and evergreens have replaced the Harvest decor. The Yule tree is being slowly decorated each night. I smile to myself, letting it slip away as the Adhene joins me.

"There are traces of power in the alley. But that is not unusual for this town, it seems. I am more concerned about the human traces that I found."

His wings flex and he wrinkles his nose at the scent of my coffee.I offer to have Patti bring him a mug and he turns me down, flat. I smile sweetly. I like my coffee like I like my lovers... strong. I don't think I will tell the Fallen Angel that, though.

My accent is strong, betraying my concern. "Eet seems that Josephito ees truly next. No othair has been threatened, nor eeven approached. Thee attackair ees human. Hes men, they are also. I want to know who gave Josephito to thees men."

My eyes follow a man who pops in for a quick beer. His eyes wander the bar, pausing briefly at the entrances and windows. Recon. The Adhene notices too. Human, but with something more. The Adhene slips out the door. I know he will be waiting to follow the fellow when he leaves.

I pay Patti for the coffee, then slip into a shadowed booth. I pretend to doze, watching the man until he rises to leave. Patti offers to wake me if Traeger comes in, or Pandora comes down. I nod and close my eyes, listening to the quiet sounds of Patti and Monty prepping for the night.

A pair of demifae buzz past, hovering for a moment before zipping away to a nearby bit of greenery. I sigh, feeling the wash of erotic energy stir my hungers. They bring thoughts of what I would rather be doing. My mind caresses over Mortuis, touching the hard planes of his chest, the tight muscles of his legs. I stifle a groan and dream of hot nights and wrinkled sheets. When this is done...

I smile and drink up the gift of fae passion.

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