Lothaire

“No!” She lunged forward, slapping his hand. Hard. “You just mended that skin.”

He lowered his hand, grumbling, “My heart doesn’t fucking work right without you.”

She seemed to soften at that, but then she asked, “Has anything really changed?”

“I’ve learned I need to consult you in matters, lest you decapitate me.”

“Lothaire . . .” she said warningly. “You didn’t truly want me, not until I was a vampire. And that hurts.”

“When Saroya was cast out of you that night, it felt like someone had injected me with feeling for you. I saw you clearly for the first time, knew you as my Bride with no doubts. Before you were a vampire.”

“What if there’d been no ring, no way to turn me? Could you have accepted that?”

“Never.”

Pain flashed in her expression. “Why?”

“I don’t court my own death, Lizvetta. You were mortal, could perish so easily. When a vampire’s Bride dies, he is ended, back to being the walking dead—if he doesn’t greet the sun. So ultimately, I’m only as strong as you are.”

“That’s why you were so raring to turn me?”

He hiked his shoulders. “And the sex is better.”

“Ugh!” She threw her hands up.

“Because it’s safer. Each time I denied my instincts, I feared I’d harm you myself.”

“If I’d remained human, could you have felt the same way about me?”

“I would never have acknowledged to myself everything I felt for you while you were so vulnerable. But then, when you’d been turned, you were so strong. . . .” Voice dropping an octave, he said, “You took all my lusts and made me weak.”

When she nibbled her bottom lip with one of her little fangs, his thoughts blanked for a moment.

“Everything you felt for me?”

“Come, come, Bride. You’re exceedingly clever. You must know that I’m in love with you. Now will you return with me?”

Seeming to steel herself against him, she said, “But you told me we weren’t equals. That doesn’t really go along with my idea of love.”

“You traced the first day you were a vampire. You took me down with a sword. Most of the Lore lives in fear of you. Your loyalty to your family never faltered, no matter how much I offered you, or how much pressure I put on you. You’ve much to teach me, Elizabeth.”

When she remained uncertain, he said, “I understand how important your family is to you because I remembered how important my mother was to me. These long millennia, I’ve hated Serghei for taking my family from me—now I’ve realized I tried to do the same to you.”

“And what if we have another falling-out? Will you refuse to talk to me? I longed to tell you how sorry I was for hurting you—until you sent me that awful package!”

“And you gave me the finger in return. Which I can now admit was uproarious.” Especially since it had grown back.

“You didn’t answer my question. You don’t exactly have relationship skills mastered. And we will fight in the future.”

“As I said, you’re to teach me. Plus, you’ll have my memories and know how I truly feel. All you have to do is drink from me every night.” He gazed at her mouth, at her fangs readying from the mere thought. “You miss my blood—admit it.”

“No!” she gasped, pressing her lips together.

Voice gone hoarse, he said, “Then why are those sexy fangs of yours so sharp?” Raising his gaze to her darkening eyes, he rasped, “Gods, I am going to do depraved things to you back at our castle.”

She swallowed. “I-I haven’t agreed to go with you.”

“Then tell me where I may do those things to my Bride. If we remain here, we’ll break this flimsy bed, possibly this entire conveyance.”

Chin raised, she said, “You need to apologize for how you treated me.”

She’s wavering. He checked a look of victory, saying honestly, “I am sorry, Elizabeth. I tried to go back in time with the ring, intending to treat you like a queen from our first meeting.” Then he frowned. “You should always tell me whenever I need to apologize.”

“Just till you should be gettin’ the hang of it!”

“Ah, you’re agreed, then? So let’s be off.” He sat up, going still. “Am I wearing a wife-beater, Lizvetta?” He gaped down. “Oh, come on!”

“I suppose now’s not a good time to give you your Skoal hat?”

“Your retaliation is unspeakable. For this alone, you must forgive me for my treatment of you.”

“Still high-handed?”

“I literally risked my neck just now to say that in front of you.”

He saw her lips quirk, but she schooled her expression.

“I told Nïx that I would go to the grave again if it would make you love me. I went to the grave in that mine, ergo . . .”

“Are you trying to make me feel guilty so you can manipulate me?”

He blinked. “Of course. Now, tell me you love me.”

“I do, Lothaire. For some reason, I truly do love you. And I will give this a chance,” she said. “If you stay here with me.”

* * *

Ellie had already made up her mind that she’d try living in Lothaire’s castle and being a queen of the vampires and all, but this was too funny an opportunity to pass up.

Lothaire swallowed, his gaze flickering over the Beanie Babies on the windowsill and the stuffed animals.

“You could like it here, Lothaire, I just know it!”

With a pained expression, he said, “Those stuffed animals horrify and repel me.” He shuddered. “And the aura of pathos in this place is inescapable. You don’t . . . you can’t want to live here. Not instead of a castle with servants to wait on your every need?”

“Sure I could! And then you wouldn’t need all those fancy clothes of yours.”

He squirmed. “I don’t think I can live here. I really don’t, Elizabeth.”

And because she was so attuned to him, she could feel something akin to panic inside him. “Don’t want to even give it a try?”

“Actually, I can’t even be here for much longer.”

She patted his hand. “I know, baby, I know.”

“If you know I can’t be here, and you won’t come with me . . .” His eyes reddened ominously. “You believe we’re living apart? I tried that; I detested that!”

Then he made a clear effort to calm himself. He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it. At length, he grated, “I’m purchasing this mountain and the adjoining ones for you.”

A breath left her. “Lothaire, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Come with me back to our kingdom, and I will have a mansion built here for your mother.” With great effort, he said, “We could visit, if infrequently.”

She leaned down until their faces were inches apart. “We’ll visit every weekend, holidays, and NASCAR, vampire.” She pressed her lips against his, sighing from the rightness of it, from the certainty that her life was with him.

Oh, Lothaire, you’re not even gonna know what hit you. . . .

Between kisses, he told her, “If you agree to only Sundays and holidays, I will buy all your brethren homes.” Against her lips, he said, “And you knew NASCAR was pushing it, Bride.”