OMG!! ::chokes, gasps:: I have…122 reviews!! FOR JUST EIGHT CHAPTERS!!!

I'm telling you…I'm fuckin happy…

And for those of you who think I've got so many reviews because I'm a good writer ::cough oceanspike cough:: it doesn't. I just have a tendency to get people to advertise my stories. Like…Death Goddess Assassin. And Kassi helps…she has me on her profile…and so does oceanspike…although oceanspike insults me most of the time…hmm…okay, that's enough rambling…

Um…I edited the last chapter, at the end, so it has a bit where Joren gets a good glance at Kel's part-naked breasts and he doesn't faint. And the link to fictionpress won't show up on here. So you'll have to go to my profile…but anyway.

"Dip it low, pick it up slow, roll it all around…" Dip It Low, by Christina Milian…awesome song, I'm telling you.

And to whomever commented on how Jump's name should be changed (sorry, I forgot who it was): if his name was changed to Jump, the Bitch then people would think he was a girl, since bitch is the term for a female dog. Jump-the-Bitch has two meanings: he jumps dog-bitches (meaning he does the forbidden activity) or he jumps people-bitches (meaning he attacks people).

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The first-aid kit patched Joren up quite nicely, but Keladry was still not satisfied. Blood could ooze through the bandages, however thick they were. And what if an artery had been slashed? The worries were needless, and she knew that, but she had to think of anything to get her mind off earlier, when Joren had looked at her like that. She shivered just thinking about it, then scolded herself. It's not like he matters, she thought. He's just a bodyguard. A really, really hot bodyguard. No! Bad Kel…

"Hurry up with the coffee, Mindelan!" said-bodyguard called from the couch in the living room, where Queenscove had ordered him to rest for a bit. Gods, send me an angel.

She bit back a retort. Joren had saved her life, and Neal's if one thought about it, so she decided to be cordial to him. Or, at least, politer than he was being to her.

"Yes, Master," she called, her features schooled to blandness. "Coming, Master."

"Master my arse," Neal muttered darkly, stomping by with a platter of half-eaten cookies settled neatly in his arms. "If I hear one more demand I'm going to – "

"Queenscove! Where's my Sports Illustrated?"

The platter crashed to the floor with a clatter. Neal's arms were still in the position they had been. His right eye twitched dangerously. Before Kel could stop him, he had darted back in the living room.

"Queenscove, what're you doing –"

"SUFFOCATING YOU!"

Kel blinked, then followed calmly in her roommate's wake, eyebrows disappearing under her bangs. Neal had a pillow over Joren's face and he was pressing down with alarming pressure. Joren himself was yelling – although it was rather muffled – behind the confines of the pillow, and his limbs were flailing dramatically. Her lips twitched. If he truly wanted to, he could kill Neal.

She snorted, shaking her head and glancing out the window – or what was left of it. In place of the shattered glass they had hammered a strong cloth over the empty space. She called the carpenter, one of her old friends, Seaver Tasride, and he told her he would get to her in a couple days.

After a little bit more of this childish activity, Kel clapped her hands together. "Okay," she called to them, "enough. Neal, you need to finish your lunch."

"But I ate all of it," he protested, pausing in his task.

"Not your vegetables," she pointed out sweetly.

"Damn," he grumbled.

Joren snickered, and Kel rounded on him.

"As for you –"

"You're in for it," Neal told him sympathetically, scuttling into the kitchen when a death glare was sent his way.

"You did not eat a single bite of your broccoli," she continued.

Joren stared at her. No other woman had ever stood up to him like that, and here she was, trying to boss him around. Hell, he admitted to himself as he took the plate of cooling broccoli, she was bossing him around.

"It's good for you," she snapped when he paused. "And it heals injuries."

"Actually –"

"Shut up, Neal."

"Yes ma'am."

-----

"Oh, yeah! I told you the Knights would win!"

"I thought for sure the Ocean Spikes would…"

"Yeah, well you thought wrong! So ha!"

"Shut up, Queenscove."

"Oh, you're just mad because I was able to slip my broccoli to Jump without Kel seeing me!"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh…heh…hi, Kel…didn't see you standing there…"

"You have some explaining to do."

"I know."

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"Hey, Joren?"

"What, Mindelan."

"If a rabid squirrel attacked me, would you protect me?"

"…"

"Kel…what kind of question is that?"

"It says here there are rabid squirrels lose in the park. They were some kind of experiment."

"Mindelan, if a rabid squirrel attacked you, I'd die laughing."

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"Kel?"

"What, Neal?"

"You know that bird that's always flying into the window?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I think he's dead."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because he's not moving."

"Queenscove, don't stick your head out the window. Something's bound to shit on you."

"Okay, okay…"

-----

"Neal, for the seventh time, get your head out the window."

"But the bird…"

"It's dead, Neal."

"I know, but – OW! HOLY FUCKIN SHIT! THAT BIRD ISN'T DEAD AFTER ALL! IT JUST FUCKIN BIT ME!"

"Hey, Queenscove…"

"What?!"

"That looks more like a squirrel than a bird."

"…So?"

"Well…there are rabid squirrels about…"

"OH MY GOD!"

-----

It took a while to finally convince Neal the creature that bit him was just the neighbor's hairless dog. When the phone rang, Kel abandoned her "dying" friend and snatched it from its cradle.

"Hello?"

"…"

Kel frowned, and repeated herself, more persistently. "Hello?"

"…"

"Is anybody there?"

Joren snapped his head up, then jogged toward her, placing his ear near hers so he could hear.

"Hello?"

"My love…"

A tremor shook through her voice. "Who is this?"

A deep chuckle. "I've been wanting to talk with you for a while…"

"Who is this?"

"Oh, if only I could tell you. Listen carefully, my lady Keladry. Are you listening?"

"Yes."

Her voice was calm and controlled. Joren admired her strength.

"Get rid of your new boyfriend. He's trash. He will hurt you."

"I see."

"This is not a laughing matter, my darling. I'm the only one you need. Let me warn you, though. If you fail to accomplish this simple task, I will execute you as well as him. You will be dead by next week."

Kel slammed the phone down. The only action that betrayed her emotions was the trembling in her hands. Neal was bolt up in bed, mouth set in a grim line.

"Him again?"

She nodded silently. Gods help me, Kel thought, glancing at Joren. I asked for an angel and I got a devil.