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keep it turned off when we’re not using it.”

“The talking box seems okay.” He nods at the TV.

“That’s the second one I’ve had this year. Sixth one in five years. The lady at the insurance company cries when I call. They keep sending the same poor guy out to check the electrics. I’m surprised it hasn’t gone while you’ve been here, given everything that’s happened. If I throw a major circle, it’ll blow.”

“That why you don’t have one of those little computers here at the house?” At my nod, he says, “Couldn’t believe it when I saw how much those had changed from the last time I was topside. Dead bitch had one she carried from room to room with her. Smaller than her fuckin’ make-up case.”

“Laptop.” I lust after one, too, but I can barely keep the sturdy desktop machine at my office from going when I brew, so a laptop is not likely to have a long life-expectancy around me. “Jou, about Ro—”

“Let it go, sweetness,” he says, his tone dropping. “Nothin’ you can say that won’t ruin this fine coffee.”

“Actually, I was going to say that I was thinking about her today and decided I have to forgive myself for whatever part I played in her . . . you know.”

“Yeah?” He sips his coffee while he considers. Slides his arm around my shoulders. “You humans hold on to too much shit. She was gonna go the way she was gonna go. Had nothin’ to do with you. An’ there was nothin’ you coulda done to stop it.”

“Do you believe that? I mean, are we really pre-destined? Don’t we have any role in shaping our own lives?”

“Yeah, you do. Destructive free-will’s your defining feature. But it was her nature. Only person who coulda changed her path was her, and she didn’t want to. Not for one second. She took every step down that road freely. Fuck, eagerly. She was sprintin’ down it. Reason she needed that ring was because her ambition exceeded her ability. She’d have gotten to that point on her own eventually, maybe in a couple more years, but that wasn’t fast enough for her. She was exactly who she wanted to be, sweetness. Only one who was confused is you.”

I lean my head back against his arm. “She wasn’t a bad person when I knew her, Jou. I can’t understand what she became.”

“I know you can’t. You ain’t wired that way. You don’t got one drop of ambition in you. I’ve come to like that more’n a little.”

“Really?” I put down my empty cup and look up at him. “I thought, I mean, you ridiculed me—”

He turns his head and kisses my temple. “I was wrong about that.”

Not something I ever thought I’d hear. “I don’t understand. What changed your mind?”

“Seein’ you at home. The way you melded our magics. It’s only ‘cause you got no, I dunnow, ego maybe. An’ I know you won’t ever challenge me. That’s a big thing. I appreciate it’s hard for you to imagine what it’s like to be with someone for a thousand years, but let me tell you, there’s a fuckload of friction. Don’t matter that you’re all pullin’ in the same direction. Or that there’s no way any of ‘em could take me in a real fight. They all got their own agendas and they let me know it every single fuckin’ day.”

I finally realize he’s talking about his family – his clutch, as he calls them. A thousand years of dealing with their ambitions is an extremely long time. “That’s exactly why the whole seggurach thing scares me, Jou.”

He nuzzles my temple. “Not me. I got no second-thoughts, sweetness, none at all.”

Because he believes I won’t challenge him. That I’ll always bend to his will. Because, so far, I always have. “Me being afraid of you isn’t the best basis for a relationship, Jou. Particularly not one that might last centuries.”

“You got no reason to be afraid of me, ‘cause I won’t ever hurt you. An’ I won’t let anythin’ else hurt you, either. Th’ reason we’ll get along is ‘cause you got no agenda. You just wanna be happy. I can make you happy, if you’ll let me.”

Could he? Everything in me wants to believe it, but not everything does.

“Bedtime?” he asks. He sounds so hopeful, like a kid asking for ice-cream, that it makes me laugh.

“It’s still light out,” I protest. I don’t think it’s even seven o’clock, although we didn’t rush dinner.

“So? I like fuckin’ in the light.”

“We both just had espresso. I don’t think we’ll be able to sleep for hours.”

“Good,” he says. “I wanna go to bed, but I got no interest in sleepin’.”

Despite what he says, we do sleep. With him curled tight against my back. He’s still inside me as I drift off, but he’s come this time, and remembered to look at the Wall, and settled down to sleep with just a few soft words.

I go down easy, warm and contented, in the arms of my demon-lover.

But I don’t come up that way. Because for the first time since I started sleeping with Jou, I dream of the Shadow Man. He has no face. No mane of dreadlocks. But he has a knife, which he uses to peel strips of skin off me while I scream.

I wake, shuddering, choking, in the hard prison of Jou’s arms. His hold on me gentles as I wake and stop thrashing. He pulls me against his chest and strokes my sweat-damp hair back from my face. “S’okay, sweetness. Turn off the lights.”

I do, pulling the witchlight blazing around the room back into me. I lean into him; rest my face on his shoulder. “Jou,” I whisper.

“That’s some nightmare,” he says, deep and soft. He gathers the blankets, tossed aside as I thrashed, and tucks them around me.

“Y-yes, it is.”

He holds me for a long, quiet time, while I try to stop shaking. “You wanna go back to sleep?” he asks finally.

“Uh-huh, I’m

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