And now, night time.
- Asher and Damian have gone to bed.
- Zane and Merle are alive.
- Anita is unhappy that she and Micah haven’t exchanged ‘Love yous’. I have no idea why they would. Presumably so Anita can still feel like a good girl.
- Nathaniel dresses Anita. I have no idea why she is unable to dress herself.
in the coolest jammies I had – a silky spaghetti strap nightshirt that would have been too revealing if I hadn’t been so damn short.
YOU ARE AVERAGE HEIGHT. YOU ARE AVERAGE HEIGHT. YOU ARE NOT A HOBBIT!
Anita and Nathaniel share a bed because Anita can’t be alone otherwise someone would probably chop her head off. And then burn the remains to make sure she can never return. She then wakes up as some flunky of Narcissus calls up. Narcissus has information about the missing shapeshifters – OH LOOK THE PLOT HAS RETURNED LIKE A PRODIGAL SON – and Anita has to go to the club right this very minute or Narcissus ain’t gonna spill the beans. If she doesn’t go, the head of the lions will die. And then the flunky is lying and it means that Narcissus likes to help fellow shapeshifters but doesn’t want people to know because he always wants something in return?
You suck at writing politics, LKH.
Anita sighs at how awful the system is. This system she has never cared about and never wanted to interact with. The flunky then says they want the head lion alive to see the birth of his child because Narcissus wants a child.
Right. This is going to turn out badly, I think. Narcissus is already a… delicate situation, and Hamilton doesn’t have much skill in this sort of area.
Anita is horrified that Narcissus is maternal. The flunky ignores this and tells her to come to the club. Anita and Nathaniel get up and this takes forever because Nathaniel has to braid his stupid floor length hair.
SOMEONE IS ABOUT TO DIE. AND YOU’RE BRAIDING YOUR HAIR!
Then Anita says she takes the longest getting dressed?? Oh, I get it. Time doesn’t exist in the AB universe. It’s just a myth.
I was halfway to the club when I realized that the ardeur hadn’t set in. It was morning. I was awake. There wasn’t a stir from the ardeur. Hope flared through me in a warm, fuzzy wash. Maybe the ardeur was going to be temporary. Dear God, I hoped so. I said a brief prayer of thanks and kept monitoring myself for the first hints of unbridled lust.
That’s mightily convenient. It’s almost like LKH can’t stomach writing about the consequences of actions in her books.