Cloud Rebel (R-D #3)(26)

"I am glad. I feel jealous," I admitted.

"Don't. Or, if you just can't help it, ask him to remove it. It's fairly simple for a Larentii to do; it doesn't harm you in any way and doesn't interfere with anything else except your jealousy."

"That's a fascinating concept," I mumbled, unsure whether I should ask the Larentii for any favors. I felt I owed him enough as it was.

"You'll be surprised at what Val might do for you—if you ask," Opal said. "He won't interfere past what he's already done, but that, in essence, was to protect Rinnelar first."

Opal's admission ramped up the jealousy I already felt. "Don't let it get too far or I'll call him back here myself," she cautioned.

She was right—we didn't need dissension among our ranks. We needed to stand firmly together or we could end up losing this war. The explosion in Quebec was a grim reminder of that reality.

There were so many questions I wanted to ask—not just of Opal or Val, but of Rinnelar. That's not all I wanted from her, but was terrified to even entertain such thoughts.

"I know this is hard for you," Opal said. "We'll sort it out, just have faith and bear with us."

"Before, I'd be ripping this deck apart while having this conversation."

"I prefer the more peaceful version," she deadpanned.

"As do I. I finalized the deal on the Italian villa. Should I inform Rinnelar?"

"I'd wait—we haven't tested Val's solution to its fullest extent," she replied. "It's difficult to gauge the strength of any obsession placed by a Sirenali."

"Ah. Probably wise."

"Probably."

*

Corinne

I hadn't meant to fall asleep while soaking up sunlight. I woke in Val's arms, both of us naked, of course. "Are you rested?" Val breathed against my cheek. "If not, I will sing you back to sleep."

"We should get back," I yawned.

"Then I will see that you sleep again when we arrive."

"Okay."

*

Captain Brett Walker

We'd been talking with Dr. Shaw much of the morning, then working out under Dr. Farrell's supervision most of the day. Therefore, Jennifer and I knew little about the events of the day or why there were now five new people at the beach house.

When we walked into the kitchen, searching for something that might pass for dinner, we found Rafe and Rinnelar working together to cook dinner while Val and Opal, another new arrival, sat at the island to watch.

"Is that chicken and dumplings?" I sniffed the air. My stomach growled, informing me that chicken and dumplings was exactly what was on the menu. I loved chicken and dumplings.

"Correct," Rafe turned and nodded at me. "A drink is in order, perhaps? We have Scotch, wine, rum—the liquor cabinet is fully stocked."

"How about an old-fashioned?" Opal asked, rising from her chair. "I make a pretty good one."

"I'll take it," I nodded. "Jen—what about you?"

"Wine?"

"We have pinot noir, Riesling, cabernet sauvignon, shiraz, several others," Rinnelar said. "Your choice."

"Pinot noir," Jen said immediately.

We watched as Rinnelar popped the cork from a bottle with barely a look, caught it neatly and set it in front of Jen while the bottle turned itself and poured into a wineglass.

"How do you do that?" Jen breathed as the wineglass floated toward her and set down gently by her hand.

"Power, young one," Val said. "Her hands are covered in flour, else she'd have done it in a more conventional way."

"That's amazing," Jen said before lifting the glass and tentatively tasting the wine. "Good," she nodded.

"It's my favorite red," Rinnelar smiled and went back to cutting dumpling dough into squares before dropping them into boiling broth. Rolled and cut dumplings—my favorite.

"Our werewolf is hungry," Val announced. I went still.

"Huh?" Jen's head swiveled toward Val.

"It is time Dr. Farrell told both of you what you are," he said.

"I was waiting," Richard Farrell snapped as he walked into the kitchen.

"What were you waiting for?" Val demanded. "Perhaps for the time when the full moon comes and he begins to feel its pull? Perhaps for that time? Things were different for Nicholas, because he'd grown up seeing it in others. This—you have three days, Doctor. I suggest you get to it. If you have limited experience with this, then I expect you to allow someone better versed in the change to tell him."

"I suppose you think you're going to?" Farrell wasn't happy, and I could scent the anger and embarrassment flowing off him. Yes, it shocked and worried me, but not nearly as much as the rest of the conversation had.

"No, I suggest that Opal make contact with one nearby. William Winkler is in residence down the beach—he is the Dallas Packmaster and will do this for us, I think."

"What the bloody hell?" Dr. Farrell exploded.

"You should have considered this before the drug was administered," Val said, his voice soft. "If you cannot calm yourself, I shall do it for you."