Thorn Queen (Dark Swan, #2)(30)

A generous deal. The Oak Land was flourishing. I didn't doubt they had all sorts of food and other items we could use. I thought about those poor people in Westoria and even about my prisoners who'd spoken of having too many mouths to feed. I sighed.

"Fine. I'll talk to him. And I'll even be nice." I started to turn away, needing more than ever to get back to my own home. Then I glanced back behind me. "But Shaya? Just to be safe, you might want to keep looking for more trade partners."
   





Returning home was great. I was exhausted mentally and physically and didn't even mind the onslaught of dogs and cats that greeted me. Tim stood in the kitchen, mixing up some kind of batter. He also wore a full Native American feather headdress that went all the way down his back.

"Isn't that a Sioux thing?" I asked. "Er, Lakota?"

"I keep getting in trouble when I pretend to be one of the local tribes," he explained. "So, I figure if I claim to be from out of town, no one can push for details. Besides, you're one to judge appearance. Did you sleep out in the rain or something?"

Ironically, I had, but I wasn't about to tell him that. "It's been a long day. Days. Whatever."

"Lara called like eighty times. She's got a real attitude, you know."

"That's why she makes the big bucks," I said with a yawn. "I'm going to go take a nap. Wake me if she calls."

"You going to go hear me perform tonight?" he called as I headed down the hall.

I froze. "Oh, um, gee. I've got plans...."

"You do not!"

"I do." I turned around. "I'm going to my mom's."

"The reading's late," he said. "Doesn't start until nine. You'll be done by then."

I had long since accepted Tim's fake American Indian gig, but accepting it and witnessing it-aside from when he stood in full regalia in my kitchen-were two entirely different things.

"I've even written new material," he added when he saw that he wasn't making much progress.

"I'm not sure that's a selling point."

He held up the bowl of brownie mix. "I'll make them with walnuts."

I sighed and turned back toward my bedroom. "You don't play fair."

He whooped with joy. "You'll love it, Eug. I promise."

I fell asleep pretty easily and woke to two pleasant surprises. One was the scent of freshly baked brownies wafting in the air. The other was Kiyo sitting in a chair in my room, eating one of the aforementioned brownies. With the way he'd been in and out lately, I never really knew when to expect him.

"Nice surprise," I said, sitting up.

"Likewise," he said, eyeing my bare legs. I'd gone to sleep in a T-shirt.

"Anything new in the Otherworld?"

"Not much. Maiwenn's getting nervous about the delivery, but I kind of figured that would happen."

"She's got good healers," I said, wanting to reassure him in spite of all the troubled feelings Maiwenn generated in me. I noticed then that he wore his white coat. "You going into work?"

"Just got out." Damn. It was later than I'd realized if he'd hung out with Maiwenn and pulled a shift at work.

"Do you want to go see my parents with me?"

Kiyo made a face. "Roland hates me."

"Hate is a strong word."

But it wasn't an entirely inaccurate one. Roland, my shaman stepfather, made no secret of the fact that he didn't like me spending as much time as I did in the Otherworld. Bringing home an Otherworldly boyfriend hadn't earned his approval either, even though Kiyo was half-human like me. Still, Roland was always more or less polite. My mother, who didn't know about Kiyo's heritage, couldn't gush over him enough. I think she'd nearly given up on me ever dating anyone, so me landing a veterinarian was quite a coup as far as she was concerned. She was a fantastic cook and so even though Roland made him uneasy, Kiyo still consented to go.

"Are you sure you got enough to eat?" she asked after we finished dinner with them later that night. She operated under the assumption that I was on the verge of malnutrition and that Kiyo was incapable of feeding himself if someone else didn't cook for him. In truth, Kiyo was a much better cook than me.

"It was great," he assured her. "Believe me, I had more than enough."

"Well, don't be afraid to go back for more. Or take home leftovers."

"Geez, Mom. He had three helpings. Are you fattening him up for the kill?" I asked.

"There are worse fates," mused Kiyo good-naturedly.

My mom beamed. I thought she was exceptionally pretty, but maybe I was just biased. People said we had similar looks, and we did as far as build and facial features went. It was the coloring we differed in. Her eyes were just plain blue, and her dark hair was graying. My reddish hair and violet-blue eyes were Storm King's legacy.

After dinner, I stole Roland away to the den to talk shop and left Kiyo to entertain my mother. She knew what it was we did, but after her own experiences in the Otherworld, she preferred to avoid our shamanic discussions.

"Still with him, huh?" asked Roland, relaxing back in an easy chair.

"He's nice, and you know it. He's the same as me."