Goddess of the Rose (Goddess Summoning #4)(59)

"They're really more dexterous than they look," he said. "I have spent centuries learning to wield them."

Spreading his fingers, his hand quivered, and from each fingernail bed a long, pointed, talonlike claw extended.

"Shit on a shingle!" she gasped.

He barked a rough laugh. "Is that a curse?"

She drew her spine up straight. "Yes. A very bad one. I should watch my language, but you . . ." Her words ran out and she could only gaze at the five dangerous knives his fingers had become.

"I frightened you," he finished for her.

"No," she said quickly. "You didn't scare me, you just surprised me." She met his eyes. "May I touch them?"

"Yes . . ." The word rumbled from deep within his chest.

She touched one of the gleaming claws. "You're like Wolverine."

"I'm like a small, mean-tempered animal?"

"No." Fascinated, she stared at the claw. It felt cold and hard against the pad of her finger. "It's the name of a fictional character who was created for something called comic books in my old world. Actually, he probably was named after the animal. He's a man who has special abilities. One of which is that he can make claws come out of his hands, like you can."

The Guardian didn't take his eyes from his hands, where she was still tracing his claw with the soft warmth of her finger.

"And is this Wolverine a demon, shunned and rejected by the rest of the comic book characters?"

"He seems to get himself in more than his share of trouble, but he's really a man with a good heart who tries hard to do the right thing." She finally raised her eyes to his. "After you get to know him you understand that the only demon within him is the one he imagines in his own imperfections." Mikki couldn't look away from him. His dark eyes devoured her sense of reason. Reality bent until it wasn't important what he was, as long as he kept looking at her like that - like she was his world.

With a little tremor, she felt his claws retract and she realized that her hand was resting within his. With a nervous laugh, she pulled her hand quickly to her side. "So you actually use your claws as quills?"

"Yes, Empousa." His expression hardened into unreadable lines again.

Mikki's stomach clenched. She didn't want him to retreat from her, so before she sat back down she reached over and placed her hand gently on his forearm. His eyes shot to hers, but he didn't speak, nor did he pull away from her touch.

"Thank you for this beautiful map. It is exactly what I need to organize the women tomorrow."

"You are most welcome, Empousa."

She smiled and then returned to her chair. "I wish you would call me Mikki. I like being High Priestess, but there are times when I just want to be me."

"If you would not mind," his deep voice rumbled between them, "I would prefer to call you Mikado. It is a lovely rose, and I find that it reminds me of you."

She felt a thrill of pleasure at his compliment. "I don't mind. I like the way my name sounds when you say it - like there's some kind of secret hidden within the word."

"Perhaps there is," he said.

"Perhaps . . ." she said. She was falling into his gaze again, losing herself . . .

"I should go," he said abruptly, breaking their gaze and beginning to stand.

"Not yet!" Leaning forward, she caught his hand and felt the jolt that went through him when their flesh touched. "Stay a little longer and have one more glass of wine with me." When he relaxed back into his chair, she reluctantly released his hand and then busied herself refilling both of their wine goblets. "I know I should be exhausted, and my body is, but my mind keeps going around and around with all the things I need to do tomorrow and all the things I should have gotten done today."

"You accomplished much today. You should be pleased."

"I am. I'm just impatient to get to work on the rest of the gardens." He nodded. "It is important that the roses heal and thrive. They are the foundation of our realm and its strength. It is dangerous for them to be unwell."

"Can you tell me what it is in the forest that you're so worried about?" she asked quietly.

"Dream Stealers."

"That's what Hecate called them, too, but I have no idea what that means. All I know is that you and she, and by the way the women who went into the forest stayed quiet and frightened looking, everyone in this realm believes they're dangerous. I get that, but I don't get what they are."

"Dream Stealers take different forms, depending upon their victim. That is one reason they are so dangerous. The face they would show you would be different from the one they would show one of your handmaidens."

"So they're physical beings?"

"They can take physical forms, yes." He paused and studied her carefully. "In your old world, there must have been Dream Stealers. Perhaps they just chose to personify yet another form there."

She thought about the young gang members who were regulars in the ER until they inevitably ended up in the morgue or the state penitentiary - about the statistics that reported Oklahoma as one of the states with the largest number of teen pregnancies, as well as reports of child abuse - and about the ridiculously high number of Oklahoma women who lived in poverty.