I took a deep breath, calming myself. My hand shook. I really wanted a drink. But Clint forbade me from buying any wine. There was none in the house. ...he shiver shook me more. I grit my teeth and went back to mixing the breading.Cooking was soothing. I used to do it almost every night for two decades. I would come home from my job as a paralegal for Elisabet Reenbug, a tax attorney, and start dinner. Clinton loved home-cooked meals. I made enough for Vicky and her children, too. And now I. And in all of these there was Demure: sometimes a saviour and sometimes a bane. On this occasion, Demure was a saviour.When Glade's consciousness fully returned after several days of fever and delirium it was Demure who greeted her with a face of unfeigned delight at her lover's recovery.And Demure wasn't alone. She was accompanied by several warriors with straight noses, long straight black hair and brown skin. They wore fur around their crotch and shoulders which was a bizarre sight for. More

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