Page 22 of Carnal: The Beast Who Loved Me

CHAPTER FOUR

Sleep had been hard to find and Rosie didn’t know how much she’d gotten at the end of a night of tossing and turning. She’d formed a habit of rising at the same time every morning. So she woke when it was time to get ready for work, whether she wanted to or not. Since she wasn’t scheduled to report at the Commons until later that morning, she closed her eyes and stayed in bed. When she gave up on going back to sleep, she headed downstairs looking and feeling worse than if she’d just risen at the usual time.

On hearing the sound of voices drifting up from below at the front door, she stopped at the head of the stairwell. Charming was saying, “He’s drinking and fucking his way through Farsuitwail. He’ll be alright.”

“Go tell your mother you know where he is so she won’t be worried,” Free’s deeper voice rumbled in reply just before the door closed after him.

In an instant Charming appeared at the foot of the stairs, looking up toward Rosie. It was evident that he knew she’d been listening, but his face didn’t indicate that he judged her harshly for it. He watched as she descended and when she reached the bottom step, he said, “On my way out. There’s food in the kitchen.”

“Okay.” She didn’t feel like trying to force a smile.

She ate breakfast cakes and went to work, but couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that, based on what Charming had said, she might have to live through something like that again. And next time it might be someone she knew.

She went straight to the galley hallway, put her shawl on a hook, and pulled an unbleached muslin apron over her head. Dandy was wiping out glasses, but she looked up when Rosie entered the other end of the bar. The gray cat was sitting at her end and gave her an ugly meowl when she walked by.

Rosie turned on the cat. “I wouldn’t if I were you. Not today.”

The cat blinked slowly, rose, turned its back showing Rosie its asshole with tail high and twitching, then settled onto its haunches. The thing tried to give the appearance of nonchalant uncaring, but had its head turned just enough to watch Rosie in its peripheral vision, with one ear lowered to horizontal position as if to advertise annoyance.

“Why is that cat always here? Who does it belong to?”

“Tough day yesterday?” Dandy said. Rosie nodded, but didn’t answer. She went straight to work with the broom. “Look. I got nuts for the bar.”

Rosie looked at the bowls Dandy was pointing to.

“There will be cat hair in those bowls if you let that thing continue to sit on the bar.” Then it dawned on her that Dandy had made an effort to initiate conversation. Nothing could be more unlike her. “You’re talking to me now? After all this time? Why? Why now?”

“Because you’re a… good human,” Dandy said softly.

Rosie cocked her hip and put one fist on it. “How would you know that, Dandelion?”

“Scar told me.”

Rosie puffed out a breath of air. “Scar,” she said, shaking her head.

After that Dandy left her alone with her own thoughts.

Around ten o’clock Free came through the door. Nodding to Dandy he said, “I need a few with Rosie. That okay?”

“You want me to leave?” asked Dandy.

“No. We’ll sit over there.” He indicated the corner. To Rosie, he said, “Could you take a break so we can talk?”

She let the broom fall to the floor unceremoniously, walked to the corner table, and sat down in mock obedience. An observer would say she was behaving like a teenager or a diva, depending on the observer’s life experiences.

Free either didn’t notice or ignored it. “For the next small while, I’m making myself available to you. I’ll answer any questions you might have. I’ve decided you’ve been here long enough and witnessed enough to deserve that.”

She held Free’s gaze. “Is there a term limit on your service to Kellareal?” she asked.

Free’s lips parted and he looked surprised, like that wasn’t the sort of question he’d been expecting, but to his credit he answered in a simple and straightforward manner. “No.”

“You made an open-ended deal?” He nodded. Rosie secretly thought that lacked foresight, at the very least. An open-ended deal with an angel? If people realized that angels and demons were first cousins they’d stop doing that shit. “Have you thought about a renegotiation?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Free looked honestly puzzled by the question. “Because that’s not the deal I made.” He paused. “And, truthfully, I’d never considered it.”