He winced. “Rex?”
“He came back late, made me feed him, and then took over my side of the bed.”
“You should have shoved him out.”
“Easy for you to say. Personally, I try not to get into arguments with anything that has more teeth and sharper claws than I do.”
“Rex wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Are you sure of that? I saw his hunting eyes. They tell me that is not a good sign when it comes to dust bunnies.”
He looked down and was reassured to notice that he was wearing his briefs. He got to his feet.
“Pretty sure,” he said.
“He’s a feral animal, Slade. He appears to have formed some kind of psychic bond with you but I don’t think you or anyone else can predict how he’d react if someone else tried to push him around.”
She had a point, he realized. He rubbed his jaw. He needed a shave.
“I apologize for Rex’s behavior,” he said. “Would you mind if I took a shower before we finish this conversation?”
“You can have the bathroom after me. I’m the one who had to sleep on the couch.”
“You know, we could shower at the same time. That way we wouldn’t have to worry about running out of hot water.”
She gave him one of her radiant smiles and for a couple of seconds his hopes soared.
“It’s a very small shower and I’m not worried about using up all the hot water because I’m going first,” she said sweetly. “By the way, would you mind stripping the bed while I’m in the shower? I want to wash the sheets.”
For some obscure reason, that hurt. He reminded himself that the sex had been hot and wet. The sheets probably did need washing.
“Sure,” he said.
“There will be dust bunny hair on my side of the bed,” she explained. “And on my pillow.”
He relaxed. It was Rex she wanted to wash out of her sheets, not him. Rex could take care of himself.
“No problem,” he said. “I’ll get right on it.”
She turned on her heel, went halfway down the short hall, and vanished into the bathroom. A moment later he heard the shower running.
He looked at Charlotte’s pillow. There were a few scruffy gray hairs but the damage didn’t look all that bad to him. Still, he knew enough about women to know that they could be picky about that sort of thing.
He bundled up the quilt, tossed it onto a chair and went to work stripping the sheets off the bed.
THE ENERGIZING AROMA OF BREWING COFFEE GREETED him when he emerged from the bathroom sometime later. He followed it into the kitchen and found Charlotte at the stove. She drew a long-handled spatula slowly through a large pan of creamy-looking scrambled eggs.
For a moment Slade stood in the doorway, allowing himself the luxury of watching Charlotte make breakfast for the two of them. She was dressed in black trousers and a deep blue pullover that skimmed her gently rounded breasts. Her hair, still damp from the shower, was tucked behind her ears and secured with a thin black headband.
It felt good just being here with her, he thought. She probably didn’t feel the same way about him, though. He’d seen his face in the steamed-up mirror a few minutes ago. He looked like he had just walked out of a disaster movie. True, he had showered but he’d had no way to shave and the clothes he had on were the ones he’d worn last night.
He made a note to bring a fresh shirt, a change of underwear, and a razor the next time he came to dinner at Charlotte’s. The fact that he hadn’t remembered to bring a few necessities last night only went to show how long he had been out of the dating world.
Charlotte raised the spatula in greeting and smiled. “Ready for breakfast?”
“Sure,” he said. He looked around. “Did Rex come back?”
“Not yet. Just as well. There aren’t enough eggs for all three of us.”
He glanced at the small table. It was neatly set with two green placemats, silverware, and mugs. Butter and a jar of marmalade were arranged in the center.
“Can I do something?” he asked.
“You can pour the orange juice and the coffee.”
“I should be able to handle that.” He opened the refrigerator and took out the bottled juice. “We need to talk.”
“I thought you wanted to rez with the frequency,” she said lightly.
He tried not to let the touch of frost in her voice bother him.
“Not about us,” he said. He closed the refrigerator door and looked at her. “About my talent.”
“Oh, right, your talent.” She hefted the pan off the stove and spooned the eggs onto two plates. “Well? What about it?”
“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything about it to anyone else, especially the members of your family.”
She glanced at him, brows lifted. “Why not?”
“Because your family is well-connected with Arcane and I don’t want J&J or anyone else getting curious about the effects that gas had on me.”
“Got it.” She set the pan down. “I understand and I agree.”
“You do?”
“My family may be well-connected within the Society but that doesn’t mean that I don’t know how things work in the organization. I’m well aware that rare and unusual talents make some members of the Society uneasy. That goes double if those talents are powerful. I don’t think there’s any doubt but that you are now off the charts. Level Ten with a very large asterisk.”
“Off the charts with an unknown talent,” he added quietly.
“A heretofore unknown aspect of your core talent,” she corrected.
“Doesn’t matter.” He poured the juice into two glasses. “Arcane gets nervous when the words unknown and off the charts appear in the same sentence. The same is true in the Guilds and at the Bureau.”
“I’m aware of that. Don’t worry, I have no intention of discussing your talent with anyone else, including the members of my own family.”
He was glad she was not going to argue with him. He put the bottle of orange juice back into the refrigerator and picked up the coffeepot.
“You were right about one thing, I’m going to need time to figure out just what has changed in my talent,” he said.
She carried the plates to the table and sat down. “You probably won’t figure it out until the first time you use it intuitively. We both know that’s how psychic abilities manifest themselves.”
He sat down across from her. “And sometimes people find out the hard way.”
She picked up a fork. “Don’t worry, you know now that you’ve got the control you’ll need to handle the energy you’re capable of generating.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“Absolutely.”
He ate some eggs, thinking. “What was it like for you?”
She gave him a wicked smile. “Are we talking about last night or my talent?”
He grinned. “I was thinking about your talent but if you’d rather discuss last night—”
“Forget last night. I spent a good portion of it on a lumpy sofa because there was a dust bunny on my side of the bed.”
He groaned. “Don’t remind me. It won’t happen again. By the way, I left your sheets on top of the washing machine.”
“Thanks. I’ll take care of them before I go to Looking Glass.”
“I don’t know why Rex took over your side of the bed last night. At my place, he never sleeps on the bed. In fact, he’s usually gone most of the night. Shows up around breakfast time.”
“Got a hunch he was guarding you,” she said, very thoughtful now.
“From you?”
“No.” She paused. “I think he was watching over you while you slept off the burn. Somehow he understood that you weren’t in a normal sleep state. He must have sensed that you were vulnerable until you woke up. He’s your buddy. He was watching your back.”