I have to admit I still felt a bit self-conscious stripping down to my bathing suit with the memory of Nico’s ginormous schlong bobbing in the air—not to mention my own response, along with everyone else’s, to his funky satyr pheromones—but true to his word, he ignored me, concentrating on his task. I took a neatly folded towel from the cupboard beneath a pergola that looked like something from the set of a Pottery Barn photo shoot and went to join Lurine, who lifted a mostly empty champagne bottle from an ice bucket beside her and regarded it with a critical eye.

“Nico!” she called. “Go see if Mr. Edgerton’s got the Bellinis ready, will you?”

“Yes, kyria.” Setting down the pool skimmer, the satyr trotted toward the French doors, his tail swishing amicably.

“So . . . you’re keeping him?” I asked Lurine. That didn’t sound right, but I wasn’t sure how else to phrase it.

“Oh, for a while. He doesn’t know anyone else in the area.”

“How did he end up here?”

Lurine shrugged. “Most places with a functioning underworld tend to be pretty metropolitan these days. Cities built atop the ruins of cities. He heard that Pemkowet’s a better fit for pastoral types and decided to check it out.”

“Nice timing,” I said sardonically. “Jesus, I didn’t even think he could talk the other night.”

“Oh, he couldn’t,” she said without irony. “Satyrs in rut revert to a preverbal state. But don’t worry, it only happens every twelve years.”

“Really?”

“Immortals live long lives, cupcake. And it’s not like satyrs are impotent between their cycles.” Her lips curved in a smile. “They’re just not hyper-potent.”

The satyr returned, balancing a tray with two champagne glasses filled with sparkling wine and peach nectar. After delivering them, he went back to skimming the pool. I sipped my Bellini thoughtfully, watching him. “So I don’t have to worry about Nico going into rut for another twelve years?”

“Right.”

“But I need to be prepared for it,” I said. “I mean, assuming he stays and Hel doesn’t fire me for not knowing what the, um, hell I’m doing half the time. Which means I need to keep track of his cycle.” I glanced over at Lurine. “Do you think he’s staying? Does he like it here?”

“Well, he’s not thrilled that I made him put on shorts,” she said. “But that was just for your sake.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate it. But that’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” Lurine gave me an amused look. “Yes, he likes it here. I don’t know if he’s staying. But if I were you, I’d err on the side of caution and assume so. And I’d assume there may be others that will follow.”