"I'm just saying we shouldn't put everything at Cel's door. He's your enemy, but he may not be the only one. I don't want us to be looking so hard in Cel's direction that we miss something important."
"Well said," Frost said.
"Gee, Galen, that was almost like a smart thing to say," I said.
Galen slapped the top of my foot gently. "Compliments like that will get you nowhere near my body."
I thought briefly of pressing my foot into his groin and kneading, to prove that I was already close to his body, but I didn't. He was hurt and it would just pain him to no purpose.
Kitto was watching us all with an intense blue stare. There was something in his face, the way he held himself so attentive, that I was betting he'd be able to repeat everything we'd done, everything we'd said. Would he tell Kurag? How much "mine" was he?
He caught me looking at him, and his eyes stared into mine. The look was not fearful. It was bold, expectant. He'd been more relaxed since I'd kissed Frost, though I wasn't sure why.
My stare seemed to make Kitto grow more bold. He crept forward, toward me. His eyes flicked to Galen, then to Frost, but he knelt on the floorboard, legs straddling the hump in the middle.
He spoke very carefully, keeping his mouth as closed as he could to hide the fangs and the forked tongue. "You have f**ked the green-haired sidhe tonight."
I started to protest, but Galen touched my leg, squeezing slightly. He was right. We didn't know how, much we could trust the goblin.
"You have kissed-" The "s" in kiss was the first sibilance he'd allowed in the speech, and it made him hesitate. He started over. "You have kissed the silver-haired sidhe tonight. I would ask permission to uphold the goblin's honor in this matter. Until we share flesh, the treaty between you and my king is not finalized."
"Hold your tongue, goblin," Frost said.
"No," I said, "it's all right, Frost. Kitto's actually being very polite for a goblin. Their culture is very bold when it comes to sex. Besides, he's right. If anything happens to Kitto before we can share flesh, the goblins are free of the treaty."
Kitto bowed until his forehead touched the seat, hair brushing along Frost's hand where he still held mine. He rubbed his head against the seat, along the line of my body like a cat.
I tapped his head. "Don't get any ideas about doing it in the car. I'm not into group sex."
He raised up slowly, those drowning blue eyes staring at me. "When we get to the hotel?" He made it a question.
"She's injured," Galen said. "I think it can wait."
"No," I said. "We need the goblins."
I could feel Galen tense just through the hand on my leg. "I don't like it."
"You don't have to like it, Galen, just acknowledge the practicality of it."
"I do not like the thought of the goblin touching you, either," Frost said, "but it would be a simple thing to assassinate the goblin. They are easier to kill than a sidhe, if you use magic."
I looked at Kitto's delicate body. I knew he could trade blows with almost anything and limp away, but magic... That wasn't a goblin's strong point.
I was tired, so tired. But I'd worked hard for the alliance with the goblins. I wasn't going to lose it now through squeamishness. The question was what piece of my body was I willing to let him sink those fangs into? I wasn't going to lose a pound of flesh, but a bite, which Kitto was within his rights to take. Where would you want someone to take a bite of you?
Chapter 34
I COULDN'T WALK BECAUSE OF MY ANKLE. DOYLE CARRIED ME INTO THE hotel lobby. Kitto stayed very close to me. Rhys had made a nasty comment on the way inside. If Rhys continued to carry a grudge against all goblins, it was going to make things harder than they already were. I didn't need harder. I needed something to be easier.
What was waiting in the lobby was not easier.
Griffin was sitting in one of the overstaffed chairs, long legs stretched out so that the back of his head rested against the back of the chair. His eyes were closed when we entered, as if he were asleep. His thick wavy copper-colored hair spilled just to his shoulders. I remembered when it had hit his ankles, and I'd mourned when he cut it. I'd avoided searching the crowd for him tonight. A glance was enough to prove that that deep, nearly auburn, red hair wasn't in the room. Why was he here? Why hadn't he been at the banquet?
I watched him with his line of black lashes closed on the pale face. He was wasting glamour to pass for human. But even dulled by his own magic, he was a shining thing. He was dressed in jeans with the bottoms of cowboy boots showing, a white dress shirt, buttoned up, and a jean jacket with leather touches at shoulder and arm. I waited for my chest to tighten, my breath to catch, at the sight of him. Because he wasn't asleep. He was posing so that I could get the full effect. But my chest was just fine. My breath didn't catch.
Doyle had stopped with me in his arms just short of the imitation Oriental rug that the chairs sat upon. I stared down at Griffin from Doyle's arms and was empty. Seven years of my life and I could look at him now and feel nothing but an aching emptiness. A wistful sort of sadness that I had wasted all that time, all that energy, on this man. I'd been afraid to see him again, afraid that all those old feelings would come flooding back, or that I'd be furious with him. But there was nothing. I would always have sweet memories of his body and less sweet memories of his betrayal, but the man that sat so carefully posed was not my love anymore. The realization was both a profound relief and a great sorrow.
He opened his eyes slowly, that smile curling his lips. The smile made my chest hurt, because once I had believed that that special smile was meant just for me. The look in his honey-brown eyes was familiar as well. Too familiar. He looked at me as if I'd never gone away. He looked at me with the same surety that Galen had had earlier. His eyes filled with a knowledge of my body and the promise that he would have access to it soon.