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Conn made a sound of resignation. “But we don’t know who it will be yet, do we?”

“No. The enforcer could be a previous co-worker who hated me or one of the younger ones who idolized me.”

“Or both,” Conn said. “I recall you had quite the fan club there.”

I chuckled. It was so many years ago that I doubted most remembered me at all. “The chances of it being someone I trained are good because they’d all be highly experienced now. Let’s hope for that possibility. Cross yer fingers.”

“Your trainees weren’t much younger than you, Aran. Most were barely your age.”

I thought about it and shrugged. “I didn’t have age in my favor back then, but I had the power and the experience. Plus, I had ya following me around. Those I worked with envied my demon partner, and I didn’t mind a bit. I thank the Goddess for ya every day, Conn.”

I looked around and frowned. “Where’s Mulan? How did the Wu Shaman get excused from this meeting?”

Conn blew out a breath. “She’s ill and decided to sleep it off. She’s blaming her Shaman staff for that as well. The woman broods hard.”

I laughed. “I know. She brooded hard about you. Should I go check on her? It appears I have plenty of time.”

“Yes, I wish you would. Then I’d know both of you were okay.”

“Poor demon. All the females in yer life drive ya crazy. Ya’d think we were conspiring to do it,” I said in mock sympathy, patting Conn’s unshaven cheek as I passed by.

Then I stopped. “What do ya think about Zara’s winged horse idea?”

Conn shrugged. “I don’t like it, but I can see how it might be necessary. After converting the jiangshi back into a human, I figured the idea wouldn’t bother you.”

That had me staring at him. “Do ya think that’s what Mulan and I did with her brother-in-law? Seriously?”

Conn nodded. “Yes. The method will be different, but the concept is the same. You can’t blame Zara for offering to do something for our benefit.”

“Between Rasmus and ya, I feel like I’m taking a philosophy class lately. The two of ya make me think so hard my head hurts.”

Chapter Twelve

“Mulan?” I called her name quietly as I walked through the house.

I didn’t want to surprise her. She might come out swinging her staff and cursing me.

Sounds of retching eventually led me to her location. A sniffing Mulan sat on the floor of her small master bathroom, hugging the toilet.

“Good Goddess,” I said, searching the shelves to find a washcloth. I wet it and then folded it to fit against the back of her neck. “Can I do a spell to calm the nausea for ya?”

Mulan squeezed her dripping eyes shut as she nodded. Any other time, she would have made herself some magick tea to cure herself.

I chanted with urgency and waved my hands around the small space. I could feel the moment it helped because Mulan lay down on the floor and sighed in relief.

I dropped to the floor and sat near her head. “This is bad, Mulan. Does Conn know ya’re this ill?”

“Yes. I told him he made me sick. I made him leave.”

“Did he make ya sick?”

Tears seeped from Mulan’s eyes, ran down her cheeks, and dripped onto the floor. I stared at her in shock. First, she’d been lethargic and uncaring. Then she’d summoned enough power to stop a fleeing fairy. But this sickness stuff was the worst if it was making her weep.

“Ya’re scaring me, Mulan.”

She lifted one tired hand into the air. “Shaman staff is full of cowardly mages. They do not tell me what I most want to know.”

I turned my face up to stare at her ceiling. Did she need sympathy or tough love? I had no idea. This was why I was not that great with women friends. I could rarely guess what was going on with them.