And so she spent the night in his room, perched on a sword rack that he dragged in and put right next to his bed.
She listened contentedly to his breathing as her mind drifted on a cloud of happiness at having him so near. One of these days, she thought drowsily, we will be able to kiss.
And share that bed.
On that thought she tucked her head under her wing . . . and woke as her body began the shift. This time she knew instantly what was happening—it felt like a thousand bee feet tapped over her body. She leaned over from the perch and in human form dropped neatly onto Nikos’s bed. She wasn’t anywhere near the expertise with which the other shifters made the transition between one step and another, but hey, improvement!
She sighed, taking in the empty bed. She caught his scent on the pillow, and shivered with desire. Thwarted desire. He’d already left—and she sensed him in his unicorn, down at the hall with the hetairoi.
The desire simmered as she went to his wardrobe, as he’d invited her to do. He didn’t have a million clothes, but what he had was fine. Her eyes were drawn to the coat he’d mentioned once. It was a long black military coat of the sort he would look very good in. She touched the sleeve of a linen shirt, then moved down to shelves where she saw neatly folded workout clothes.
She picked out a black T-shirt and gray pants, showered, and pulled on his clothes. They were clean, of course, and smelled only of sun-dried fabric, but the fact that he’d worn them made her body under her skin flash with heat. So near, and yet so far.
She took a moment to breathe out the craving, and regain her calm. Not yet. But it would happen—she could feel his own desire, a match for hers.
By the time she ran down the frescoed corridors and mosaic-decorated stairs to the hall, breakfast was almost over. Everyone rose to greet her.
“Please don’t do that,” she said, and to the staff person who came up, “Toast and coffee is fine.”
She caught a shy smile from Lindy, the gentle pegasus-shifter, and went over to sit with her, but she chose a chair opposite Ezios, one of the wary hetairoi. His shoulders were tight, his gaze otherwhere. She’d seen him flying the day before—he was a steel-feathered minokawa in his shifter form, a ferocious warrior, Petra had said. In human form Ezios was long and lanky, wearing his hair in a braid down his back. He had a sensitive mouth, and Jen—listening hard on the mythic plane—caught an echo of memory, a little boy thrown out of an otter-shifter family, bewildered and alone.
“What’s the schedule?” she asked.
“Weapons practice after breakfast, then trade between patrol and school, or whatever else is part of your day watch schedule,” Lindy said softly. “Except for those with a free day.”
Bryony put in, “Though until we’re rid of Medusa and the rest of them, no one but mythic shifters can spend their free day down at the harbor.”
Rastus the cockatrice shrugged. “Keraunos would be crazy to come ashore. Unless they want to go to war.”
“Bring it,” Calix growled.
Bryony grinned fiercely. “That’s what I say. But the boss says, we’re not making the first move. Too many vulnerable civilians. So we wait, and watch. Oh yes, and practice defense drills, twice a day. Added to weapons practice.”
General groans rose, but it sounded to Jen like no one was surprised. “What’s defense drill?”
Bryony had just taken a huge bite, so Petra said softly, “We have several. One is to cut off the castle from the paths. Staff deals with anyone who got inside the perimeter, flyers deal with those outside. We all have stations.”
Jen didn’t have one—because no one, including her, knew what her future was to be. She knew she wanted to be with Nikos, but did she want to live the rest of her life here?
Now was not the time. So she said, “Weapons practice! I’m very much in the mood for that. Tell me your favorite weapons?” When she looked around, she made sure to meet Ezios’s eyes before moving on.
“Archery,” Lindy said. “It’s very meditative.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Jen responded.
“Spear,” Dru the peryton admitted. “What can I say? I like flash.”
“A spear is definitely flashy,” Jen said. “I kind of like them myself.”
She glanced toward Ezios, and caught his gaze, which immediately dropped. But then he said, “Fighting fan.” Color rose under his bronze skin.
“Fighting fan is the most amazing of all the forms to watch,” Jen said. “It take grace and precision—and when done right it looks so good you forget how lethal the moves are.”
Ezios didn’t say anything more, but Jen thought she saw a little of the tension ease from his shoulders. Instinct prompted her not to push it, and so she turned her attention back to the others, who were eager to speak.
Amazing, how a tiny sign like that—a slight easing of tension whose cause she didn’t even know—could give her more of a sense of victory than winning a trophy ever could, she was thinking as she followed the others out to the training court.
For weapons work she chose sword, and put in a couple of hard hours. After lunch, she was drawn as if by a magnet to the infirmary, where the natural springs bubbled up in pools and tiny waterfalls. She intended to offer her help, hoping secretly that there might be little kids to entertain, or even babies.