Scratching
her jaw, she stifled a yawn. “Are there Haunt women? I guess there
are, but all I’ve seen are guards. Not that I’ve seen a lot of this
place. Are you married?”
He started slightly, but slowly shook his
head.
“Me neither. It’s got its advantages, though.
There’s something to be said for only answering to myself. Though
sometimes…” she trailed off. Her bones started to grate against the
hard step through the padding of her muscles and she shifted.
The Haunt was an indistinct outline even in
the moon-flooded night, and she squinted, trying to see him better.
“You see better than I do at night, don’t you? And hear better?” He
affirmed it, and she considered the matter further. “And your sense
of smell...is it much better than mine?” Yes. “As good as a dog’s?”
This time, when he agreed with her, she shivered, reminded of their
differences. What else might be alien between them? Her toes
curled. “Are you stronger than humans, faster? Is that why all the
Haunt are guards?” He stared at her, and in the moonlight his eyes
reflected red.
She shut up, and it was a long time before
she got up the nerve to move.
Chapter 6
Jasmine slapped a deck of cards and a
decanter of honey liquor on the table. “Prepare to lose, Wiley. I’m
feeling lucky tonight.”
“Ha!” Wiley plunked down a drawstring bag
full of little snail shells. Next to it she set a platter of raw
vegetables arranged around a hollowed red pepper filled with creamy
dip. “You, my friend, are going down.”
Jasmine made a face at the platter and got up
to rummage in the pantry of the suite Wiley shared with Jayems.
Emerging triumphant with a jar of hot pickles and a bag of sour
candies, she packed them to the dining table and went back to
search the cold pantry for some cold cuts. Already she missed
cheese.
“What are you doing?” Jayems asked as he
entered the kitchen with Keilor and Knightin in tow. For some
reason, Wiley colored.
“Poker,” Jasmine answered. She returned to
the table, a large plate of sausages filling her hands and bottle
of fiery mustard clamped under one arm. She set those down and went
back to reconnoiter the kitchen cupboards.
“What are you doing, Jas, preparing to feed
an army?” Wiley asked. She leaned one hand on the table and rested
the other on her hip. “Keep this up and there won’t be room to
play.”
“Nag, nag, nag,” Jasmine muttered, her voice
muffled in the depths of the cupboard, blissfully unaware of the
two sets of interested male eyes wandering over her derriere. Twin
fires sparked in Knightin and Keilor’s eyes as she bumped her head
on something and wriggled.
Knightin came to his senses first and jerked
his eyes away in annoyance. “On second thought, Jayems, I’ll pass
on that drink. I just remembered I have some things to deal with
before morning. Good evening.” Keilor barely spared him a glance
before returning to savor the view. His vision fogged as he inhaled
her scent. It was all he could do not to act on the fantasy playing
out in his head.
Fingers snapped in front of his face and he
blinked at the unwelcome intrusion.
“Your eyes were glazed, my friend,” Jayems
told him dryly.
Jasmine emerged with a package of savory rye
chips, which she poured into a pieced wooden bowl. Munching on a
handful, she took the bowl with her and settled into a chair. “Your
deal,” she told Wiley, leaning back in her chair. Glancing at the
watching men she said briskly, “This is not a spectator sport,
gentlemen. Play or get lost.”
Jayems frowned with annoyance, but before he
could remind her that she was in his kitchen, not hers, Wiley said,
“Quit trying to rob them, Jas. You know they’d end up without a
penny to their names.” She poured a splash of liquor into two
glasses, adding an extra splash in one of them.
Leering, Jasmine reminded her, “They use gold
and silver here, remember?” She eyed the men calculatingly. “I
think we
her jaw, she stifled a yawn. “Are there Haunt women? I guess there
are, but all I’ve seen are guards. Not that I’ve seen a lot of this
place. Are you married?”
He started slightly, but slowly shook his
head.
“Me neither. It’s got its advantages, though.
There’s something to be said for only answering to myself. Though
sometimes…” she trailed off. Her bones started to grate against the
hard step through the padding of her muscles and she shifted.
The Haunt was an indistinct outline even in
the moon-flooded night, and she squinted, trying to see him better.
“You see better than I do at night, don’t you? And hear better?” He
affirmed it, and she considered the matter further. “And your sense
of smell...is it much better than mine?” Yes. “As good as a dog’s?”
This time, when he agreed with her, she shivered, reminded of their
differences. What else might be alien between them? Her toes
curled. “Are you stronger than humans, faster? Is that why all the
Haunt are guards?” He stared at her, and in the moonlight his eyes
reflected red.
She shut up, and it was a long time before
she got up the nerve to move.
Chapter 6
Jasmine slapped a deck of cards and a
decanter of honey liquor on the table. “Prepare to lose, Wiley. I’m
feeling lucky tonight.”
“Ha!” Wiley plunked down a drawstring bag
full of little snail shells. Next to it she set a platter of raw
vegetables arranged around a hollowed red pepper filled with creamy
dip. “You, my friend, are going down.”
Jasmine made a face at the platter and got up
to rummage in the pantry of the suite Wiley shared with Jayems.
Emerging triumphant with a jar of hot pickles and a bag of sour
candies, she packed them to the dining table and went back to
search the cold pantry for some cold cuts. Already she missed
cheese.
“What are you doing?” Jayems asked as he
entered the kitchen with Keilor and Knightin in tow. For some
reason, Wiley colored.
“Poker,” Jasmine answered. She returned to
the table, a large plate of sausages filling her hands and bottle
of fiery mustard clamped under one arm. She set those down and went
back to reconnoiter the kitchen cupboards.
“What are you doing, Jas, preparing to feed
an army?” Wiley asked. She leaned one hand on the table and rested
the other on her hip. “Keep this up and there won’t be room to
play.”
“Nag, nag, nag,” Jasmine muttered, her voice
muffled in the depths of the cupboard, blissfully unaware of the
two sets of interested male eyes wandering over her derriere. Twin
fires sparked in Knightin and Keilor’s eyes as she bumped her head
on something and wriggled.
Knightin came to his senses first and jerked
his eyes away in annoyance. “On second thought, Jayems, I’ll pass
on that drink. I just remembered I have some things to deal with
before morning. Good evening.” Keilor barely spared him a glance
before returning to savor the view. His vision fogged as he inhaled
her scent. It was all he could do not to act on the fantasy playing
out in his head.
Fingers snapped in front of his face and he
blinked at the unwelcome intrusion.
“Your eyes were glazed, my friend,” Jayems
told him dryly.
Jasmine emerged with a package of savory rye
chips, which she poured into a pieced wooden bowl. Munching on a
handful, she took the bowl with her and settled into a chair. “Your
deal,” she told Wiley, leaning back in her chair. Glancing at the
watching men she said briskly, “This is not a spectator sport,
gentlemen. Play or get lost.”
Jayems frowned with annoyance, but before he
could remind her that she was in his kitchen, not hers, Wiley said,
“Quit trying to rob them, Jas. You know they’d end up without a
penny to their names.” She poured a splash of liquor into two
glasses, adding an extra splash in one of them.
Leering, Jasmine reminded her, “They use gold
and silver here, remember?” She eyed the men calculatingly. “I
think we
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