I hadn’t meant to ask that last question, but it had been trembling on the tip of my tongue ever since I’d recovered my wits. “I’ve been called Red before—just about everyone seems to think they have to point out that I have red hair, like that escaped my notice—but never goddess. So, what’s your name?” There was no answer, just the rapid, hot breath on my shoulder. I gave his shoulders a shove. “Hello?”
My word seemed to echo, and came from a distance. I froze, listening intently, holding my breath as if that would help me hear better.
“Hello? Tempest? She must be in bed. Jakob, you do not need to check on Mr. Pibbles. He’ll be asleep in his warm, comfy stall, and if you open the barn door, it’ll let the cold air in.”
“Someone is here,” a baritone Spanish voice declared in a dramatic m
