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Divine Misdemeanors (Merry Gentry #8) Page 35
Author: Laurell K. Hamilton

One of the new men said, "They got into our range."

The man from the front seat turned around and asked, "What the f**k is going on, Brennan?"

He looked at me as he said, "I prayed for help."

"Well, God hears you good," the other man said.

"It wasn't God I was praying to," Brennan said, and he looked into my eyes and reached out one hand as if afraid to touch me.

I put his hand against my face. There was grit and dirt and blood. He had a wound in his hand that he'd touched to the nail.

"I was praying to Goddess," Brennan said.

"You called me with blood, metal, and magic," I whispered.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Los Angeles," I said.

I felt the dream, or vision, or whatever it was begin to soften and waver, and I spoke into the air, "Black Coach of mine, take them to safety. See that no harm comes to my people."

The radio in the front of the Humvee crackled to life, which made us all startle, and then give nervous laughs. The song was "Take it Easy" by The Eagles.

One of the soldiers said, "What is this, a Transformer movie?"

Their laughter was the last thing I heard as the dream faded, and I woke sitting bolt upright in the bed between the men. The bed was covered in pink rose petals.

Chapter Eighteen

Rhys was the only one awake for some reason. Galen and Wyn slept as if nothing was happening. The petals decorated their hair and faces, but they slept on.

Rhys said, "There's something on your face." He reached out and came away with dirt and fresh blood. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"It's not my blood."

"Whose is it, then?" he asked.

"Brennan's."

"Corporal Brennan - the soldier you healed, who helped us fight?"

"Yes," I said. I wanted to know if Rhys had watched me dream. I wanted to know if my body had stayed here in the bed, or if I'd vanished, but I was half afraid to find out. But I had to know.

"How long have you been watching me?"

"I felt the touch of the Goddess. She woke me, and I kept guard over your sleep, though if you could come away with Brennan's blood on you, maybe I wasn't guarding the right part of you."

"Why are Galen and Wyn not awake?" I asked, my voice soft the way you do when people nearby are sleeping.

"I'm not sure. Let's leave them sleep and talk in the living room."

I didn't argue. I simply slipped out from the petal-covered sheet and the warmth of their bodies. Wyn snuggled into the hole I'd made. When he touched Galen, he stopped moving and settled back into deeper sleep. Galen never moved. That wasn't entirely unusual; he was a heavy sleeper, but not this heavy.

I stared down at him as Rhys gathered his holster, gun, and a short sword that he usually wore at his back. He was licensed to carry the gun here, but the sword was only allowed because technically he was still the bodyguard of Princess Meredith, and some things that might attack me respected a blade more than a bullet.

He gathered his weapons, but he didn't bother with clothes. He held out a hand to me, completely nude, with his weapons in his other hand.

I scooped up a short silk robe that had been lost to the floor. Sometimes I got cold; Rhys seldom did. He, like Frost, had once been a deity of colder things than a Southern California night.

He laid his weapons on the kitchen counter and turned on the light over the oven, making a small glow in the dark, quiet house. He turned on the coffeemaker, which was ready to go for the morning.

I chided him. "You just wanted coffee."

He smiled at me. "I always want coffee, but I think this may be a long talk, and I worked today, too."

"It's industrial espionage using magic, right?" I asked.

"Yes, but the Goddess didn't wake us up to talk about a case."

I slipped the robe on and tied it. It was black with red and green flowers on it here and there. I seldom wore all black if I could help it. It was too much my aunt Andais's signature color. My hair had gotten long enough that I had to sweep it out of the robe to settle the collar.

I enjoyed watching Rhys move around the kitchen nude. I admired the tight line of his ass as he stood on tiptoe to reach mugs from the cabinet.

"The problem with a seven-foot-tall man being the main one who lives here is that he puts things you use every day too damn high."

"He doesn't think about it," I said, and slid onto the bar stool near the front of the outside counter.

He got the mugs down, and turned with a grin. "Were you watching my ass?"

"Yes, and the rest of you. I'm enjoying watching you move around the kitchen in nothing but your smile."

That made him grin again as he put the mugs by the coffeemaker, which was now making the happy noises that said coffee was on its way.

He came to me, face going solemn. He gave me the full attention of that one blue-ringed eye. He raised his hand again, and touched the blood and grit on my face.

"I take it Brennan was injured."

"A small cut on his palm, and it was that hand that he gripped the nail with."

"He's still wearing it around his neck," Rhys said.

I nodded.

"You know the rumors about the soldiers who fought beside us?"

"No," I said.

"They're healing people, Merry. They're laying on hands."

I stared at him. "I thought that was just for that night, just with faerie's magic bleeding all over everything."

"Apparently not," he said. He studied my face, as if looking for something specific.

"What?" I asked, nervous under his so-serious scrutiny.

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Laurell K. Hamilton's Novels
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