Damn him.

She sat there stewing, running it over and over in her mind, for another five minutes before Grey came back.

“Is something troubling you?”

“No,” Ahnvil said to Jackson, frowning at the Pharaoh even though his reply was absentminded.

“Then why the frown?”

“I was just thinking abou’ something. ’Tis no’ a matter of concern.”

“Oh?” Jackson smiled, his eyes light with amusement. “Anything that has my chief Gargoyle frowning like that might have to be my concern.”

“No. ’Tis nothing. ’Tis just that … I doona like the idea of Grey making my Kat feel like she might be something to be fearful of.”

“Fearful? Why would she think that?”

“He thinks she might be Sheytan.”

“I see,” Jackson said, his amusement tempered with a measure of seriousness. “Sheytans are a very serious business. Not to be messed with. I don’t think her being one is a bad thing at all. However, I, for one, wouldn’t mind having a Sheytan Djynn in my camp.”

“I dinna think you would. ’Tis no’ you I’m worried abou’ ’tis Kat. She’s had tae learn abou’ so many wild and strange things these past days. I doona want her tae think she should fear herself.” He frowned. “I’ve seen how she’s behaved this past week. Afraid tae use her power. Afraid she’ll blow someone up.”

“A healthy fear to have, considering. At least until she learns more about her abilities and how to control them.”

“I doona see the health in it.” His frown deepened. “No’ for her. She’s feared herself enough. ’Tis time she got to revel in what she is.”

“And she can’t do that if she’s a Sheytan.”

“No. I mean … no. I doona mean—” His brow wrinkled.

“Seems to me the only one not liking her being a Sheytan is you.”

“That’s no’ true!” Ahnvil snapped. “I’d love her no matter what she is!”

Jackson leaned back against the counter, folded his arms over his chest and raised a brow. He waited.

It took a moment. A very long moment.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Ahnvil said, shock widening his eyes as he ran a hand down over his face. “This is no’ good,” he said, taking a deep breath. Then another. Before he knew it he was practically hyperventilating.

“Hey. Easy, big fella,” Jackson said, amusement in every line of his body as he went over to the Gargoyle and thumped him on the back a few times. “Take a good breath. Easy now. It’s always like this the first time you figure it out.” He suppressed a chuckle, simply for fear of getting decked. “It’ll be okay.”

“No, it willna!” Ahnvil bit out at him. “This is horrifying!”

“Ahnvil … it’s not as bad as all—”

“I have nothing to offer her!” the Gargoyle snapped. “What do I have for her? A life here, ground zero for Apep’s next demented scheme? You barely survived Apep’s last incursion onto this territory. She’s got nothing to protect her from him!”

“She has you. And if I’m not mistaken, she protected herself pretty good from Panahasi … and she wasn’t even trying.”

“Panahasi is one thing, a god quite another,” he returned sharply, although not sounding as convinced as he had a moment earlier.

“And you do have something to offer her. You said it yourself. You love her. From what I hear, that’s more than enough for a woman.”

Ahnvil scoffed.

“You know, I won’t hold you here if you do not want to be here. You are free to take her somewhere safer any time you like. I am sure any one of the Bodywalker nexus houses would be happy to have you.”

Again, Ahnvil scoffed. “And leave the center of things when you’ll be needing me most? I doona think so!”

“You know what it sounds like to me? Excuses,” Jackson said. “You’re afraid. And you should be. It’s a big responsibility, to love and care for someone.”

This time Ahnvil looked at him with interest instead of reactionary emotion.

“How do you do it? I mean, how do you keep from being afraid?”

“I don’t. I’m terrified. All the time. And so is she about me. It’s just the nature of the beast. If you think you can reap the glories of love without paying the price, then you clearly aren’t willing to do the work and you should end it right—”

“No,” Ahnvil said hastily. “No, ’tis no’ that. No’ at all. I just … I doona want tae … I’m afraid I’ll …”

“Hurt her?” Jackson filled in for him.

“Oh aye,” Ahnvil said on a big, gusting breath.

“You will. You’ll fight. You’ll make up … one of my favorite parts, by the way. But if you want to find out your favorite part …” Jackson trailed off. But he could already see the fever of excitement laced with fear in the Gargoyle’s eyes.

“I’ll fuck up. I just know I will fuck up.”

“Oh aye,” Jackson said with a chuckle.

“How … how do I tell …”

“Sorry, big fella. There you are totally on your own,” Jackson said with a grin as he turned and looked in the refrigerator.

By the time he turned back, the kitchen was empty.

“Dude, you were so just looking for an excuse,” Jackson said to the empty room.

“There, see? Just imagine your fingers floating away on the air … but not too far from the rest of you. Cohesion is important,” Grey said.

“Whoa. This is so cool,” Kat murmured as her fingers dissolved into smoke. “I thought this was going to be so much harder!”

“When the sun hits you your body is naturally trying to do this, but since you are a hybrid something in the instinctive mechanism is mis-wired. Now bring yourself back to cohesion. That’s very well done. Not bad for an hour’s work.”

Once her fingers were solid, she beamed at Grey … only he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking with obvious surprise at a point above her shoulder behind her. Curious, she turned and saw …

A very big, very tall … Scot. And she did mean Scot. As in, a kilt of green and black with strands of violet, a matching sporran with a white furred beard around its base and a white shirt with pirate sleeves dressing up her big Scot. All he needed was a bag of pipes and he’d be complete.