I forced Sebastian into sharing a few minutes of quality wizard-feline time. I missed the grouchy old thing, but I couldn’t say it was mutual. He loved Alex; he tolerated me.
After he’d finally escaped, I created an open transport on the living room floor for Zrakovi, and Alex and I snuggled on the sofa. We drank black coffee that warmed me up for the first time since the courthouse deluge, and watched the breaking news story on TV about a mysterious fire that had broken out on the top floor of the parish criminal court building. The fire of unknown origin had just as mysteriously been doused by a flood of unknown origin. Soot-faced firefighters theorized that a plumbing pipe had burst because of the freezing weather and had probably saved the historic building from burning to the ground.
Sounded reasonable to me. At least the Blue Congress wizards appeared to have gotten the walls back in the right place before the firefighters had to explain a building renovation of unknown origin.
Alex leaned over and treated me to a Rhett Butler kiss, slow and deep but not too sweet. He once told Scarlett something to the effect of how badly she needed kissing, and by someone who knew what he was doing. Alex knew what he was doing. By the time he finished proving it, I was breathless. I rested my head on his shoulder, basking in his warmth and filling my lungs with his scent. “What was that for?”
“That was to show you how glad I am that we got out of that mess in one piece and that we’re here together.” He extracted his arm from around my shoulders and sat back. “Now let’s talk about your crazy stunt.”
Damn it, Rhett did that, too. He’d kiss Scarlett silly, then lecture her. “If I’d waited until Zrakovi convinced the Queen of the Faeries to intercede, we’d all have been standing there on the morning news, surrounded by firemen.” And probably a few police officers and, possibly, mental health workers. “She was floating around like a balloon from crazy town and laughing at the whole debacle.”
I’d been the only person in the room acting sensibly, in fact. “And besides that—”
“Hush.” He pressed a finger over my lips. “I wasn’t talking about that. You probably saved all of us by containing the fire and forcing Florian to act. That was smart. What wasn’t so smart was racing off with Jean Lafitte to catch Hoffman and the vampires. You could’ve been killed—or bitten.”
Yeah, I’d show him bitten. I clamped my teeth down on his fingers before he could jerk them away.
“Ow. Stop that. Did you break skin?” He examined them for blood. “Do you know how many germs are in the human mouth?”
Yeah, well, he’d gotten them all over his tongue and hadn’t minded.
I was sore and exhausted. I’d used up half a roll of paper towels getting my shoulder cleaned up and stopped bleeding. I’d need more stitches if I couldn’t get my hands on the materials for a healing potion. To do that, I’d need to go to my heatless house. And to do that, I’d need a vehicle.
“We’re not having this discussion.” Scarlett might have let Rhett get away with it, but I wasn’t taking lectures from Alex just because I’d done something he hadn’t approved of. On the whole, during an extremely bizarre evening, I thought I’d handled myself well. “I did what I thought was right. I did what my job calls me to do. And because there was no one else there and I had a split second to act, I went alone.”
Alex was quiet a whisper too long. “You weren’t alone. You were with Lafitte.”
The silence stretched between us and tightened around my throat. Damn it. “Is that what this is about? Jean? I thought we’d moved past that.”
He sighed and got up to look out the front window. “I thought we had, too. And yet, there you went with him on another half-assed adventure, acting without thinking. Jumping from one chaotic scene to another. I repeat, you could’ve gotten killed or bitten. He can’t die. You can.”
I tugged aside the crew neck of my sweater, and could tell by his widened eyes when he spotted the two puncture wounds. “Melnick,” I said. “He spat my blood out and said it tasted vile.”
Alex opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “Where was your partner?” He said it much as one might say pus-filled boil.