Page 59 of Love the Way You Lion (Rise of the Resistance #3)
The Cat and The Witch Parlay
DELILAH
M y eyes dart around until the sound draws nearer. Clea emerges from the foliage, her eyes glittering as Argus watches me with a snarl. “Who would have thought all it took for you to get over that ridiculous fear was the need to break into my home?”
Blinking, I jump to the ground gracefully, crouching in a defensive position. “What can I say? I’m a motivated bitch these days.”
We eye one another warily, both waiting for the other to pounce, but it doesn’t happen. Neither of us is likely to be the first to extend a courtesy, so we’re going to stare until someone breaks. It’s Argus, who snorts, tosses his head, and howls at the moon before looking at me dead in the eyes.
“A shifter? Oh, my love, what a wonderful surprise you’ve given me,” Clea coos at the wolf, ruffling his ears as if he’s not terrifying.
She turns back to me and laughs, her voice husky with mirth.
“Well, well, little kitty. You have been up to no good. What other tricks are up those bespoke sleeves? ”
“Cut the crap, Heraclea,” I growl, rising to my full height. “We both know that I’m not here to giggle over a Cosmo.”
Sighing, she steps over to the sitting area, flicking her wrist at me. “Very well. I will find out whether or not you are comfortable sharing, and I am losing beauty sleep by the second. Come, sit, state your case and be as boring as everyone else who finds their way to my garden.”
My nose wrinkles and I huff. “Boring? Boring is the last thing I’m called anymore, Clea.”
Her head tilts as she studies me, and her lips curve. “No, I imagine you are right. Magick, a shifter, and mated to—something I am unfamiliar with. That alone is enough to whet my curiosity.”
I throw up my hands, infuriated that my shields have failed me. That never happens anymore. “What, do I have it stamped on my fucking forehead now?”
“No,” she purses her lips as I walk over to the table. “But you have cat eyes and a tail that I can see now that you are closer, your aura has significantly changed, and you wear a ring and bite marks. One doesn’t have to live at 221B Baker Street to put the pieces together.”
Rubbing my hand over my face, I drop onto the bench on my side of the table. I reach up and yank the cap off, shaking my hair out until I feel more in control. “Subtlety has never been my strong suit, as you well know.”
She laughs again, and Argus pads over to sit at her feet, much like Aradia does. “This is also true, Delilah. You have always been an open book to me.”
I glare, not wanting to rehash history or we’ll end up at one another’s throats. “The past is off limits, Clea. Our detente is for the here and now.” I pause. “And possibly in the future. ”
Her eyes widen, and she looks positively delighted.
“The future, you say? That is mysterious. Since you have no interest in finding out why I survived your outburst or why I provoked it, I suppose we should carry on with why you are here. I would have thought after evading me for the better part of a decade, you would have stayed under the radar.”
“Damnit, Clea! Not everything is about you.” I slam my fist on the table, and Argus snarls, to which I snarl back. “Sometimes, it’s about what’s best for other people.”
Looking thoughtful, she nods. “Yes. Am I to assume that you are here for something that your many talents cannot assist with?”
I roll my eyes as if she’s mentally deficient for asking, wishing that I had something to distract me from the roiling emotions of this meeting. “Don’t be daft. I’m here because I need something that only Heraclea Titania St. James can give me, if the whispers are true.”
“Spit it out, Delilah Lenore O’Hara.”
Her expression is imperious, and I have to curb the urge to punch her teeth in. Outside my parents, Clea is the only one who ever uses my full name. It’s always been part of our game, and she knows it. “I need your services.”
“That’s not good enough,” she sing-songs, her face breaking into a smug grin.
“Fuck!” I exclaim, jumping to my feet and walking over to punch a tree. I thought I’d locked our shit in its room in the inner sanctum, but apparently, I was lying to myself.
“Tsk, tsk. I imagine that will be hard to explain to whoever is waiting for you in your hiding spot, won’t it? ”
I growl, closing my eyes and willing the broken knuckles to heal as I walk back to the table.
I take another deep breath, saying the alphabet backwards in five languages before I feel like I’m under control again.
It’s been months since I’ve lost control like this in front of anyone outside of my family. I hate this woman.
When I open my eyes, she’s staring at my hand, and I smirk. She didn’t see that coming, so my inner rage cools. I’ve always wanted to one-up Clea, and for once, I got my wish. “You’re right. It would have been a problem, but now it’s not.”
A single brow arches, but she shrugs as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. “It’s a good thing that we’re not fighting at the moment. Our last battle was successful.”
I frown, almost taking the bait. She wants me to ask what she means, and that is a conversation for another time.
“Clea, I’m here because the gossip among the extras is that you are the most talented magickal midwife in the nine realms. I’m uncertain what that means, but given the circumstances, I’m willing to overlook my ignorance in favor of my needs. ”
Her eyes widen, and she pushes to her feet. “You? You need my services as--”
“I do,” I say carefully, not wanting to embellish just yet. “Are you willing? I can double or triple your usual fees if need be.”
Putting her hand over her heart, she tips her head back, and she looks up at the stars as if pleading with the universe.
When her eyes find me again, she tilts her head.
“If I agree, you will tell me everything. Part of the cost of doing business is that I must know every single thing that will affect the delivery. You must allow me to know what happened, how it happened, how you have changed, what your powers are, information about the father, your environment, and every aspect of your life. Are you willing to sacrifice your privacy for this boon? ”
I expected this, and though I’m not one hundred percent certain that she needs all of that information; I knew that I would have to haggle with her. Heraclea Titania St. James never agrees to do someone a favor—she bargains for her services.
“Yes. I will at a later date share every pertinent fact that you request. However, if you ask anything that I think will endanger me or someone I love, I will tell you to fuck off back here to Ferngully and find another option.”
She nods, tapping a finger on her lips. “You mentioned a price. However, I don’t trade in human currency unless my customers are human. You are not.”
Snarling impatiently, I slam my palm on the table again. “Spit it out, Heraclea Titania St. James,” I mimic.
Her laugh is soft, and she shakes the mass of waves that flows around her shoulders. “Ah, little kitten, I have missed our sparring, even if it is only with words. I shall indulge you, if only because it has been a long time since I had such a good time setting my terms.”
I give her a look that says, ‘get it the fuck over with’ as I tap my fingers on the stone table. “Tick Tock.”
Standing, looking regal in a way that only a woman over six feet tall can, she gives me a feral grin.
“My price includes the following terms, girl, so listen well. You will provide the information without complaint. You will introduce me to your people, whoever they are. You will not seek me out to harm me for the past—ever. The last item is paramount and non-negotiable, Delilah. After you have completed the journey you are on, you will seek me out again, and we will discuss why this shop is called Destiny. It will be most enlightening, and until then, we will not discuss the past. Are my terms clear? Do you agree to them? ”
I close my eyes and replay her words carefully.
It is never an intelligent idea to engage an extra in a bargain if you have not reviewed every word and phrase for a hidden meaning.
Many species will kill you for breaking one, even if it was unintentional.
This entire situation has clued me in that Clea is most definitely an extra, and I don’t have the foggiest idea of what kind, so I won’t risk being on the wrong end of a tricky bargain that allows her to kill me.
After I finally determine that I understand her terms, I look at her. “I agree to your terms, Heraclea Titania St. James.”
Her smile is wicked, and I ignore the victory in her eyes. “Delilah Lenore O’Hara, we have a contract. Blessed be those who honor their word.”
I watch as a tendril of magick snakes out from her hands, and I allow mine to join it, the two twining together as humans would shake hands. Sparks fly, and Clea shrieks with laughter as flowers burst into bloom at our feet.
“Oh, little kitten. This is going to be one hell of a ride.”
Giving her a dismissive look, I grow tired of the power plays, and disapparate without a word.
I don’t know how much more clearly I can say it, but fuck Heraclea Titania St. James.