“You’re absolutely right. I apologize.” She leaned forward to spread Brie on a cracker, then tapped a finger against the Tarot deck. Light flickered over them, then was gone. “These will do you no harm. You may develop a skill for readings, or even find you have a gift for them.”

“You . . .” Zoe pressed her lips together. “If you hadn’t come when you did . . .”

“It’s my duty, and my wish, to keep you from harm. When and how I can. Now I should go, leave you to your evening.” Rowena rose, looked around the room. “You have a pretty home, Malory. It suits you.”

Feeling ungracious and childish, Malory huffed out a breath. “Why don’t you stay, finish your wine?”

Surprise ran across Rowena’s face. “That’s very kind of you. I’d like that. It’s been a very long time since I’ve sat in the company of women. I’ve missed it.”

It wasn’t very strange, after the initial awkwardness, to have a woman who’d lived for thousands of years sitting in her living room drinking her wine.

And it became apparent by the time they started on the truffles that women—goddess or mortal—were the same under the skin.

“I rarely fuss with it,” Rowena said while Zoe worked her mane of hair into an elegant upsweep. “It’s not one of my talents, so I tend to wear it down. I’ve cut it occasionally, but I always regret it.”

“Not everyone can wear it simply as you do, and still look regal.”

Rowena studied herself in the hand mirror as Zoe worked, then tilted the glass to study her stylist. “I’d love to have your hair. It’s so striking.”

“Couldn’t you? I mean if you wanted to look a certain way, couldn’t you just . . .” Zoe fluttered her fingers and made Rowena laugh.

“That isn’t my gift.”

“What about Pitte?” Dana rolled over on the couch. “What’s his deal?”

“He’s a warrior, full of pride and arrogance and will. He’s maddening and exciting.” She lowered the mirror.

“Zoe, you’re an artist.”

“Oh, I just like playing with hair.” She stepped in front of Rowena and released a few tendrils around her face. “A great look for that important board meeting or the after-Oscars bash. Sexy, female, and powerful. Well, you give that off no matter what the do.”

“Excuse me, but I just have to ask,” said Dana, “what’s it like to be with the same guy for, well, basically forever?”

“He’s the only man I want,” Rowena answered.

“Oh, come on, come, on. You’ve got to have had a few hundred fantasies about other men in the last couple of millennia.”

“Of course.” Rowena set the mirror down, and her lips bowed into a dreamy smile. “There was a young waiter once, in Rome. Such a face and form. With eyes so dark it seemed I could see worlds drowning in them. And he served me coffee and a bun. He called me bella donna with such a knowing smile. While I ate my bun I imagined biting into his tasty bottom lip.”