change, after all, and she was pushing at her own changes as much as she could. “Brand-new game with a prologue that determines character attributes instead of choosing your own.”
Averill snorted into his cup. “Huh, might cut down on those who prefer close-in fighting, melee, rushing in and striking with sword or fist.” He cocked an eyebrow at his wife, who only lifted her chin and gave a little sniff. Shannon’s preferred character had stinger fingertips at the end of deadly hands.
Turning back toward Kiri, he asked, “Looks like you can get out of IT and on to a career track that suits you better? More creative?” Of the pair, he was the web designer.
“Looks like,” Kiri said.
He nodded. “Good for you.”
Then Kiri turned the talk from Eight Corp to house hunting and babies and they spent the next half hour talking before Averill stood, then pulled Shannon to her feet. “Come on. Early to bed. Since we visited so much now, shall we cancel brunch tomorrow morning?”
“Sure,” Kiri agreed.
Averill wrapped her in a strong hug. “Later.”
“Bye,” she said and hugged Shannon, and then all three of them rocked together. That was one of the best parts of Sunday brunch, the hugs.
“Keep in touch,” Kiri said, kissing Shannon’s cheek.
“I will,” she said.
But when they walked out of the door, Kiri knew things would never be the same.
She plunked down in the chair and the pillow released the slight fragrance of Shannon’s perfume, the scent she’d used since Kiri had bought her the first bottle as a birthday gift in college.
Kiri swallowed, beat back tears and allowed herself a three-minute sulk. No children in sight for her. Crap, not even a man. Visuals of the Mystic Circle couples rotated in a slide show before her mind’s eye—Jenni and Aric, Rafe and Amber, Dan and Frank. All seemed very happy.
Why was she brooding about this, for heaven’s sake? She’d decided to concentrate on her career, get to a place where she was happy there, before she started looking for a guy. Or before she expected to find the right guy looking for her.
That’s what she wanted, a good, solid career, not to depend on a man to support her, like her mother. Kiri had had acceptable jobs, but now she wished to pursue her passion and get paid for it. Husband and family would come later. She thought of Lathyr, but if there was a less-likely man to have a family, she didn’t know one. He’d seemed solitary, and liking it that way.
Her sulk time was over so she stood and stretched and cleaned up the cup, saucer and tea bag that Shannon had used, poured the untouched chai down the drain and tossed her own and Averill’s empty cups in the trash. So much for domestic chores.
The sky held streaky clouds tinted with gold and pink sunset colors. A good walk would shake off the cobweb grims. Not too long before snow would fly and the nights would be too frigid for saunters around the Circle.
Sticking her keys and key card in her pockets, she headed out and went directly to the koi pond, since she hadn’t really watched them today. A half hour of observing the fish and the sunset let her inner calm well through her. She rose to leave and saw lights on in the Castle.
* * *
Kiri’s heart bumped with excitement. For the first time, the iron gate at the bottom of the stairs of the Castle was open. She angled out of the park and back onto the walk in front of Dan and Frank’s house. As she jogged, twilight became night. The Castle’s front door was open, too. Soft yellow light washed out around Lathyr Tricurrent’s shadowy form.
And on the steps were people—Jenni and Aric, Rafe and Amber. Rustling came from the heavy plantings of bushes and Kiri thought she saw darting shadows. Cats? Didn’t seem to move like cats. She shivered again.
Amber and Jenni held food dishes in their hands. Dammit, Kiri didn’t have any food offering. Her cleaner-than-new brownie pan was back on the kitchen counter.
She did have boundless curiosity. She hesitated in going forward, just craned to see. She told herself that she hung back because she’d had enough of people today—and heaven knew that she’d been watching every minute of her behavior, very self-conscious earlier at the neighborhood party. But the truth was, the foursome had a friendly intimacy that she both yearned for, but thought she’d break up if she joined them. She wasn’t an insider yet.
“They’re opening up the Castle?” Amber Davail asked.
Jenni Emberdrake smiled at her with teeth that seemed to flash. “Lathyr Tricurrent got permission to move in.” Her dark brows dipped and her chin jutted. “Eight Corp informed us that this will be strictly a guesthouse from now on.”
“Oh, that’s such a pity,” Amber said.
Rafe Davail snorted. “Jerks.”
A corner of Jenni’s mouth lifted. “Yes. We’d been hoping for a permanent resident—”
“It is best that none of the...officers...of Eight Corp decide to live here,” Aric said in his deep voice, curving his fingers around Jenni’s shoulder. He nudged her up the steps. Amber and Rafe had already gone inside.
“Very true,” Jenni said.
At the door, Lathyr seemed to glance Kiri’s way, but said nothing, then Aric asked a question and Lathyr faded back, bowed to his guests and closed the door.
Wind tugged on Kiri’s sweatpants like tiny hands and she shuddered. Too damn imaginative the past couple of days.
Loneliness wrapped around her like the night, echoing that vague wish for a man, a life partner. Someone sort of like Averill, in the computer industry, who wouldn’t think she was wasting her life writing games as her parents and most of the other people Kiri knew believed. Not much respect from them.
She trotted faster. Like her current job of dealing with irate people and their problems was fulfilling! Maybe for some, but Kiri wanted to tell stories illustrated by graphics, let people fall into worlds and play. Entertaining people, giving them an outlet for frustration or boredom or a place away from the troubles and despair of real life was important, too. And that was what was fulfilling to Kiri. Why, she could even consider herself in the mental health field. Heaven knew she’d taken enough mental health breaks where she’d played Fairies and Dragons to rid herself of the insanity of working inside a structured and office-politics company.
She wondered how different Eight Corp was.
Again, she shivered. Yes, summer was truly gone and autumn would come soon and bring snow. She hurried home.
* * *
Lathyr had gritted his teeth at the knock on the door, sensing beyond it stood Princess Jindesfarne, her husband and the humans-with-magic couple. He should have expected this, but he hadn’t. He had only arrived a few minutes ago.
And when he opened the door, they stood there, discussing him and the Castle, rudely. He blinked. They held food in their hands—a human custom he hadn’t anticipated.
A slight wave of a more sensual feeling hit him, and
