“Geez!” Jim said, promptly sitting down and doing a wiggle to extinguish the fire. “Some people just aren’t open to sharing their experiences with others—”

Ysolde slammed the door closed in its face.

“I wasn’t done talking!” Jim yelled through the door.

“We’re done listening to you,” Ysolde yelled back.

“But I got something to say to the Vickster.”

I sighed, and opened the door. “What?”

It tipped its head and, I swear, winked at me. “It’s kinda private.”

“What?” I repeated, guilt making me sound more irritable than I was.

“I just thought you might want to know that you can’t get it on with the First Dragon.” The demon stood up, shook, checked its tail for signs of singeing, and sauntered down the hallway. I stared after it a minute, then hurried after it.

“What do you mean by that?” I stopped it at the top of the stairs. Drifting up from below, I could hear the rumble of masculine voices. No doubt the other dragons had come over with the First Dragon—dammit, I really would like to know his name—and were probably trying to convince him to turn me over to the Watch, the Otherworld’s version of the police.

“Just what I said. The First Daddy can’t get it on with mortals. Well, I mean, he can, probably—I don’t know for sure, but I’ll ask if you’d like—but there’s a thing with demigods. They can’t fall for mortals without losing their status.”

“You’re kidding.”

The demon shook its furry head. “It’s a thing. It makes sense, if you think about it.”

“How on earth does anything so contrived make sense?” I demanded to know. “It sounds like a convoluted plot device.”

“Or it’s a fundamental precept that explains the difference between demigods and mortals,” Jim said with a knowing look in its eyes. “You ever wonder why they got to be demigods in the first place? Stuff had to set them apart from the mortal race, and there has to be repercussions if those lines are breached. Otherwise, we’d just have demigods everywhere running everything, because nothing was there to stop them.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense.” I thought about that for a minute. “It keeps everyone to their own, I assume.”

“Mostly. I mean, if you knew that you’d lose your god status if you fell for a mortal, it would kind of keep you from looking too closely at them, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose so, but it’s really a moot point. I like the First Dragon—he’s an intriguing man—but I’m not looking to ... er ... hook up.”

“Uh-huh,” Jim said, smiling. “You just keep telling yourself that.”

I returned to the bedroom to find Ysolde on her cell phone. “No, you may not. I don’t care if it was run over—I will not have you carting home a deceased weasel. Brom—can we have this discussion another time? I have to get Vicky settled, and then go calm down Baltic. He’s with the First Dragon, and you know how cranky that makes him. Leave the weasel where it is, and go back to the house. And be sure to close the gate. Drake will have kittens if you leave it open again.”

May emerged from a small attached bathroom. “I put everything in the bathroom, Vicky. ... Er ... would you mind me asking what your real name is?”

I blinked at her for a couple of seconds, my mind whirling, what with dead weasels and demigods who couldn’t have sex with mortals, and me stuck with a bunch of dragons who were being remarkably kind, given the situation. It was almost as if they had an ulterior motive. I wondered what that could be. “Vicky?”

“Eh? Oh. Er ... what makes you think Vicky isn’t my name?”

“The First Dragon says it’s not.”

I made a face, thought about denying it, and decided there was little use. “My name is actually Charity.”

“Pretty name,” she said.

I gave a little half shrug. “It was a description more than a name. My parents dumped me without any information when I was about a year old. The foster-kid people thought it was amusing to give me that name.”

“I’m sorry,” May said, clearly uncomfortable, which just made me feel guilty all over again. “Is that why you steal?”

“It’s a long story, but I would like to point out that I don’t actually steal anything.”

“But, you’re working with people who do.” Oddly, there was no anger or even accusation in May’s eyes. I was a bit surprised by that. “Is there a reason you’re doing so? I’m sorry if I’m prying, but I’m just trying to determine if there was a reason other than material gain that you are working with the thieves.”

Now I was really surprised. It was as if the women could see through to my soul. “Assuming you are refering to my past, and the fact that I’m basically persecuted by the Otherworld police force, then yes, there is a reason I am with the band.”

“We thought it must be something like that. We’ll want the whole story later, but for now, we’ll let you be so you can take a shower. Painkillers are in the bathroom,” Ysolde said, tucking her phone away. “Aisling said to let her know if you need something else, like a hot water bottle. She also wants to know if you like needlework.”

“Needlework?” I repeated, confused.

“Embroidery in particular.”

Both women watched me closely.

“Sure. It’s very pretty,” I said, hoping I was making the right answer.

Ysolde and May beamed at me.

“Such a good fit,” Ysolde said cryptically. “Be sure to tell us if you need anything more.”

“I’m fine,” I said miserably. I hated lying to people. “Thank you for everything.”

“Not a problem at all. You have no idea the good you are going to do—” She paused when a bellowed yell could be heard from downstairs. “And that’s right on schedule.”

“What is?” I asked, somewhat startled by the vehemence in the voices coming up the stairs.

“The First Dragon has annoyed Baltic. I’d better go save him before he says things he shouldn’t. Good night, Charity. It’s been ... interesting ... meeting you.”

“Good night. Thank you.”