THIRTY-THREE
Josephine took Rune’s hand to trace him to her home, what promised to be some grand manor or stately castle. As she began to teleport, she and Rune seemed to fade before traveling. Whereas Sian’s tracing was quick and seamless, the vampire’s left him swaying.
Rune frowned at his new surroundings, a small dingy room with red carpet worn down to the foundation and paint curling away from the cinder block walls. A garish floral cover topped the bed, and the air conditioner rattled. “Where did you take us?”
“To my digs.”
“This is where you live? It’s a rat trap! You had the nerve to call my place quaint?” In one corner of the room, next to stacks of comic books were stacks of cash. “If you’ve got money, why not get a nicer place?” This one was pitiful and demoralizing. The only positive he could discern? It was spotlessly clean.
“I like to fly under the radar. I don’t mind it here.”
A picnic table stretched the length of one wall, covered with random things: a phone, a tiara, plastic beads, a metal stick with a camera on the end.
“Immortals with power simply don’t live like this.”
“I can’t get an ID, okay?”
“I could get you one in an hour.” He bit the inside of his cheek. She’d never need an ID because he could never set her free in the world. She still potentially had his memories. “So this is where the fair Josephine sleeps. Since you’ve taken my blood that first night, have you had dreams of me? Experienced any scenes from my past?”
“Oh, yeah, constantly. I love watching you screw two hundred nymphs at one time and kick puppies.”
“I have never kicked a puppy.”
Rolling her eyes at him, she crossed to a garment rack filled with dark clothes, all in various stages of disrepair. She selected black jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt with some band logo, then tossed them on the bed.
“Why did you dress as a man-eater the other night?” Definitely not to seduce Thaddeus. “You wore that skimpy red dress to impress me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” No denial.
A cracked full-length mirror hung on the bathroom door. Had she inspected her reflection there before setting out to find him? “Perhaps that’s why you made your earlier vow—your power play—because you yearn to be near me. And now we’re trapped together for as long as the mission continues.” He should still be pissed over that play; yet he found the corners of his lips curling.
And for some reason, his cock was semihard.
“Believe whatever you like, Rune, but I told you why I made that vow.” To protect her brother.
If Nïx found the two siblings valuable, then the Møriør should as well. Though Rune might have difficulty assassinating the oracle, he could hurt her by recruiting the weapons Nïx wanted: Josephine and Thaddeus.
It wouldn’t matter that Josephine knew his and his allies’ secrets if she became an ally herself.
He crossed to the picnic table, reading the inscription: Orleans Parish Parks. He inspected a sequin-covered phone, then moved on to the next item. “What is all this stuff?” He twirled a plastic tiara on his forefinger.
She snatched it from him. “Mementos from my experiences.” She set down the tiara, arranging it just so.
“So you took my talisman to remember me by?”
Shrug. The one that meant Yes, Rune.
“How do you steal so easily? And why not anything of significant value?”
“Like your relics? All you’re doing is inviting B&E.”
At his blank look, she said, “Breaking and entering? People coming into your territory to boost your stuff?”
He’d noticed a brace on her motel room door. She might be a hybrid, but she was just as territorial as other vampires he’d known.
She walked to a set of drawers, opening one filled with underwear, selecting two pieces of black lace. “So what’s up with your talisman anyway? I’ve seen you roll it in your pocket.”
“I’ll start talking about my past as soon as you tell me anything about yours.” He sat on the bed, his good mood unaffected. How could he feel this way after what he’d lost? For millennia, his collection had been his one nondeadly pursuit. Perhaps it’d masked his lack in other areas.
No generations to discover before him; no generation to come from him; no hope of a mate.
Now as he gazed at the vampire about to undress, he had difficulty recalling which piece had been his favorite. Which one his newest. At least she’d spared his precious library. Still, he said, “I should destroy everything here for turnabout.”
She smiled over her shoulder. “See where that lands you.”
He leaned back on the bed, hands behind his head, inhaling the meadowberry scent of her pillow. “So you believed I was out diddling nymphs, and you smashed my belongings? You must’ve been in a fit of jealousy.” Possessiveness had always rankled the hells out of him. Strangely, hers made his cock grow harder.
He’d still break her of it though. “This is why we need to work on your jealousy issues. . . .” He trailed off when she removed the shirt she’d borrowed from him, leaving her naked in front of the cracked mirror.
He rubbed his now-aching cock. When he could drag his gaze off her ass, he met her eyes in the mirror. Black forked out over his. “If we’re going to be partners on this mission, we’ll partner in other ways.”
“How’s that?” As she wriggled into a tiny thong, light glinted off the metal of her nipple piercings.
He needed to suck those nipples so hard she’d feel him the next day. “Prepare for blood and bed play.” Once his task was complete, they wouldn’t leave his room for weeks.
“You’re bringing up sex again? I’m not looking for a meaningless hookup. Be warned: I’m going all-in with the next guy I sleep with. Relationship, trust, commitment, love. The works.”
So young. So immature. “What do you know about any of these things?”
She fastened a lacy bra over tits that should never be covered. “I’ve seen love, and I want it for myself.” The combat-boot-wearing blood-drinker wanted romance?
Fascinating woman. Still, he made a scoffing sound.
Her eyes flickered as she explained, “When two people form an unbreakable bond, it’s like a reactor, feeding them power and heat and a sense of belonging. It makes them strong. They’re the true superheroes.”
She was so passionate about this, he could almost find himself believing. Then he remembered reality. “Dark fey don’t love. We aren’t capable of it.”
She glared at him as she reached for her jeans. “Don’t pull that Spock shit with me. Everyone’s capable of it.”
“Spock?”
“Star Trek? TV show? He’s all logic and pointed ears.”
“So Spock is a fey? They are known for both.” Rune was somewhat versed in this world’s popular culture since his sources—mainly the nymphs—were. But he wasn’t a hundred percent certain about Spock.
Josephine rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’d never sleep with you unless we were exclusive.”
“In your strange imaginings, how long am I not to take another?” That he was considering even a day of monogamy . . .
“If you have sex with me, you’ll be telling me you want a commitment, a bond between only us. That you will never want another female as long as you live.”
He tilted his head as she tugged jeans over her ravishing ass. Then her words sank in. “Given your parameters, sex is decidedly off the table,” he said, even knowing he’d bed her soon. He’d seduce her into thinking his way.
Seduction was what he did. “Your views on this are naïve. Not surprisingly.”
She pulled on her T-shirt. “Your loss.”
He was fine with his life right now. Or, at least, not utterly miserable, as Dalli had said. Any other male would kill to have Rune’s existence, traveling worlds, warring, and swiving new females each night.
Now this vampire wanted to change Rune once more? “You’ve known me for four days—and you were passed out for two of them. Yet you think you know me well enough to have a relationship?”
She shrugged. Yes, Rune. “I know I won’t sleep with a guy without a commitment first.”
“Naïve,” he repeated. “I’ll talk you out of this. Like I said, we’re going to work on your jealousy issues.”
“I vow to the Lore I will never have sex with you unless we’re—”
He traced in an instant, putting his palm over her mouth. Exclusive? “Don’t say that word. You do not mean it.”
She squirmed from his grip. “You sound terrified!”
“Have you not learned your lesson? These vows are not to be played with.”
“Okay, okay. You know how I feel on the matter.” She fetched her combat boots and socks. “And you know how stubborn I can be.”
“Demons need sex multiple times a day,” he informed her, stating a fact well known by Loreans. Did he believe she was a Forbearer? Not particularly. But he believed she knew as little as they did. “I’m going on days without.” Not since the four nymphs.
When he recalled that rendezvous, he felt not even a twitch below the belt. But imagining Josephine up against that courtyard wall as he pistoned between her thighs got his shaft so stiff, it pained him. “Don’t you even want to try to land me through sex?”
She stomped into her boots. “Pass.”
No matter. Her resistance now would make her eventual surrender all the more rewarding. He turned to the set of drawers, opening one. Inside was a backpack and a scrapbook with the edges of pictures sticking out. She’d drawn abstract designs on the cover.
She sidled in front of him, closing the drawer with her hip. “I’m ready.”
“Now I know where to look when I return.” So many secrets for a master to uncover.
“Better make sure your return doesn’t have anything to do with the mission to kill Nïx, or I’ll never get to drink again.”
What if he went to a nymph covey and Nïx showed up? If he killed the Valkyrie there, that assassination would trigger Josephine’s vow! How could he leave the vampire at all? Again, the pressure to kill Nïx weighed on him. “Come, then. We need to start hunting. Besides, I’m keen to leave this pitiful place.”
“Go to hell, Ruin.”
His shoulders tensed. “I told you not to call me that.” The vampire did not want to challenge him, not when he was still hard from watching her change and his demon half suffered from lack of sex. Not when their futures were becoming more entangled with every hour. Pressure increased from all sides. “So shut the fuck up.”
Her eyes went wide. “You shut the fuck up, Ruin.”
Gods, she was sexy when pissed. “I wasn’t jesting about tanning your ass, little girl.” Picturing that got his demon in a lather.
She gave a haughty laugh. “Try it, old man.”
Her defiance . . . it called up his every primal need to pin her down and make her submit. To cover her and rut till the pressure within him relented. “You wouldn’t be able to sit for days.”
“I dare you, Ruin.” She shoved at his chest with a flash of her fangs.
Like flipping some kind of switch.
The demon in him reacted outside of Rune’s control. He lunged at her, one hand gripping the back of her head, the other palming her ass as they flew into the wall. Cinder blocks cracked. He trailed his lips down her neck. “You defy me?” She wouldn’t if I marked her. She’d be too busy coming, surrendering. “When I’m so much stronger than you?” She’d respect the male who mastered her.
“Wall’s still standing. Is that all you got, limp dick?”
He shoved between her legs. “I’ve got your fucking limp—AHHH!”
She’d sunk her sharp little fangs into his neck.
He threw back his head. Fighting not to come at once, he growled, “You can’t get enough of me!”
She nodded, lapping and sucking.
“Ah, gods, that’s it, baby. Drink me. I want you to swallow me down.” Using his grip on her ass to hold her in place, he rocked his swollen shaft between her thighs. I need on her, in her.
She couldn’t seem to get close enough to him either. Her claws dug into his back, her legs locking around his waist.
This tiny creature wants me as prey. The thought made his balls ache. “Suck me. Drain me!”
“Ummm.” She met him, grinding her sex against him faster.
“Ah, I scent you! Your tight little pussy gets so wet. Sweet and slick. Can’t stop thinking about your taste.” He tried to hold back, to draw out their pleasure. But he could hear her swallowing as she consumed him, could imagine his hot lifeblood filling her lush body, coursing all over her. “Ah, fuck,” he groaned. “Too good! You going to come for me?”
She whimpered against his neck, sucking wantonly, grinding, grinding. . . .
“Harder!” His shaft throbbed, his ballsac tightening. “You told me you’d fuck me with your fangs—do it.”
She dug her claws in deep, and she bit down hard.
His mind turned over. His cock jerked in his pants. He shoved and shoved, words bursting from his lips. Pleasure racked him, whipped him, made his knees go weak. His bellow was like an explosion from his lungs.
She released her bite to throw back her head. Still writhing on him, she screamed, her pale throat working.
He rasped at her ear, “That’s it. You like the way I make you come. . . .”
When she finished with a shiver, she met his gaze. Her irises were black, her lips so plump as she licked them for more of his taste.
They caught their breath, still languidly moving against each other. The moment was thick with . . . something. He felt as if he might say words he’d regret. Or she might.
But he couldn’t seem to let her go—
A knock sounded, and she hissed at the door.
He reluctantly set her down, then adjusted his sensitive cock. Curious how she would interact with others—he’d only seen her with Nïx—he said, “By all means.”
She traced to open the door. A human male stood outside.
“You want me to flay you,” she told him. “To contribute to my man quilt. Come back Sunday. That’s my sewing day.”
The man’s face was pale, and he reeked of urine. He offered up a piece of paper. “A woman named Nïx left a message earlier.”