I swear, underneath the layer of sweat and yuck he blushed. “Perhaps it has slipped my mind.”

“That could get you in trouble.”

He looked around helplessly. “How can I leave them?”

“You have wonderful assistants. Trust them. You have to take a break to sleep, or whatever.” I managed a tired grin of encouragement. “Clean up and go to her. Life is too unpredictable to waste a moment.”

“But—” he stammered.

“Take eight hours. You won’t be any good to your patients if you’re too tired to see straight. I’ll stay for a while and make sure things are in order.”

“Rhea, you have a good heart, but you are really not experienced in caring for the ill.”

“Tell me about it. Don’t worry, I’ll just delegate and look goddess-like.”

“Now, that you have experience in.”

Seems everyone had my number. I made a face at him as he began calling his assistants to him and giving them their orders. I could overhear him dividing them up into shifts, so that some could rest, then come relieve the night shift.

“Lady Rhiannon?” A tentative voice called me from the doorway.

It was the assistant who had been sent to get the dead child’s parents. I could see the shadowed forms of two people standing behind her in the hallway. I squared my shoulders and walked toward them.

During my first year of teaching I had the privilege of teaching one of those students. You know—the kind of student that completes the teacher. Sarah had been bright and funny and full of promise. She had also been more deeply troubled than any of us knew. She committed suicide shortly before her seventeenth birthday. Walking up to the podium to speak at her funeral, I had felt then much as I felt now, sure of only two things: a horrendous tragedy had happened, and whatever I could think to say wouldn’t change that.

“My Lady—” the assistant’s voice was hesitant “—these are the child’s parents.”

I turned to face the couple. They could have been the parents of any of my students. They held hands and had that look about them that said they knew what I was going to say but they wanted desperately not to hear it.

“I am so sorry, but your daughter died this evening.” I would have gone on, but the mother began sobbing. She clung to the husband as if she was unable to stand by herself. Suddenly, she straightened and, between sobs, asked, “May we see her?”

Oh, God. This was awful—they couldn’t even see their little girl.

“Her body still holds the disease. She has to be cremated quickly, at the behest of Epona.” Their looks of desperation made me change my mind and finish with, “You may not touch her, but you may say your goodbyes to her.”

I made a motion to the assistant for her to take them to see their daughter. Before they turned to go, the father reached out and grasped my hand.

“Goddess—” his voice shook “—were you with her when she died?”

I didn’t even hesitate. “Yes,” I lied. “I was by her side, as was Epona.”

“Thank you. May you be blessed for your kindness.” They followed the assistant slowly, like their bodies were being turned to living stone.

Then I realized it wasn’t their bodies—it was only their hearts.

“Rhea, come away now.” ClanFintan stepped out of the shadows. He quickly occupied the space in front of me the parents had just vacated. His hands lifted to my face, and his warm thumbs wiped the tears from my cheeks.

“Come,” he repeated.

I nodded silently and let him lead me away from the scent of death.

4

“I smell bad.” I sniffled back my tears and mumbled at him as we walked down the torchlit hallway.

“That I know—which is why I am taking you to the bathing room.”

I nodded numbly, thinking how nice it would feel to be clean. If nothing else, the thought alone was good for morale. Mine.

We walked without speaking. I noticed campfires burning in the courtyard, and I could make out the dark shapes of women cooking over the open fires. The aroma drifted in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and my stomach growled in response.

ClanFintan chuckled. “Dinner is waiting in your chambers.”

“Thanks.”

“It is not a problem.”

“You’re starting to sound like me.”

“There are worse things to sound like.” His deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, and I felt my depression lifting in response. The guy would make one heck of a vibrator. Hell on the grocery bills, but one heck of a vibrator.

Before you could say Billy Jo Bob loves his cousin, we were walking through the door to what was quickly becoming my favorite room. I noticed that the guards didn’t flinch from my husband’s possessive stare.

“Where’s Alanna?” I looked longingly at the steaming water.

“She has a husband of her own who requires her attention.” He smiled at my confusion. “I will be your servant tonight.”

Before I could make my tired brain conjure a witty response, he had taken the back of my filthy dress in his hands, and with a quick motion, ripped it neatly in two.

“Eeek!” He could have warned me.

“You did not want to save it, did you?” His voice almost sounded innocent. Almost.

“Absolutely not. Oh and make sure you burn that nasty thing later. I don’t want any of the girls touching it.” I reached for his arm to steady myself as I stepped out of yet another tiny thong. Kicking off my sandals I practically ran, again hoping desperately my ass didn’t jiggle too much, into the pool of hot water and submerged myself up to my shoulders with a groan.

“Rhea?” he caught my attention.

Before answering him, I felt along the side of the pool until I found my sitting ledge. Situating my butt, I succinctly said, “Hmm?”

“Give me a moment.” He was shedding his vest as he spoke. “And, I must remind you again, please do not speak.”

“What?”

“Shush.”

Then his concentration turned within and he began the chant I recognized from the previous night. At the same time I felt a shiver of desire, I felt a rush of fear when I remembered the pain The Change had caused him. Again, I wanted to cry out as the shimmering became his flesh shifting and re-forming. Almost too late I remembered to close my eyes—the light against my lids was sharp and penetrating.

Then there was darkness.

Blinking, I refocused on his kneeling, temporarily human, form.

He wiped the sweat from his eyes and tried to control his accelerated breathing.

“You—” he paused to take a deep breath “—may speak again now.”

“I hate that it hurts you.”

He stood, still a little shaky. “If I could not shape-shift, we could not be together as husband and wife.”

“I know, and I’d hate that, too.”

He walked to the pool, his steps growing steadier with each stride. Using the stone stairs that led down into the water, he joined me.

“I didn’t notice that you smelled bad.” I was, apparently, a little nervous.

“I told you I would be your servant tonight.” He took a sponge and a bottle of soap from the edge of the pool. “Turn around.”