Hunt the Moon

terrible rate of death in childbirth among ancient and medieval women, or if it was the fact that the babies were half-incubus, a species designed to prey on human energy, that had been the cause. But none had lived. None until him.

“So he wasn’t pimping you out,” I said harshly. “He was putting you out to stud.”

“In a manner of speaking. Half demons aren’t overly fertile, either, but in comparison . . . And any demon race would give more—much more—for a power exchange, if even an outside chance of a child came with it.”

“And I thought I hated him before,” I said grimly. “How could he expect you to agree to that?”

“Because a full demon would have, without question. Would not have concerned himself with the futures of any children he helped to create, or the use Rosier was putting to the influence he gained. He would have viewed it as an honor, as a way to help the clan and to increase his own status at the same time. But needless to say, I felt differently.”

“I’d hope so!”

“My refusal caused the first major breach between us, although there had been others. But it was what finally convinced me to leave it all behind, to rejoin the human world, to build a life free of him, of the courts, of the constant scheming and power plays.”

“And he let you go?”

Pritkin finally smiled, and it wasn’t a very nice one. “I forced his hand, you might say. But in the end, it mattered little, as his ambition for me remained the same. And a monogamous marriage to a nonentity would do nothing to service it. He said he warned her, but he does nothing counter to his own interests. Nothing!”

I didn’t say anything that time, because I had finally caught on to where he was going with this. At least, I was afraid that I had. But I don’t think Pritkin noticed. He was staring at the damn paneling, but his face was . . . somewhere else.

“I will never know for certain what went on at that meeting,” he said. “I know only what she did. On our wedding night, she initiated the exchange of power. I believe she hoped it would strengthen her own magic, make her acceptable in the eyes of the courts. And had she been fully demon, even half, it may well have done so. May have given her entry into that world she wanted so badly. But she wasn’t, and she didn’t understand. . . .”

He paused, and for a moment, I thought that would be it. But then he spoke again. And it was so raw, so bitter, that the very tone hurt to hear.

“The exchange of power is designed to be exactly that. But I suppose she never wondered what would happen if one partner had no excess power to give. Had nothing but the energy she needed to live. And I was . . . distracted.... I didn’t notice what was happening, not for a moment, because incubi typically feed in those instances. But not that much, not that fully. And by the time I realized, it was too late. Before the cycle could even properly begin, she was—” His lips tightened. “She never received anything back. She never had time. She gave and gave and then it was over . . . so quickly. . . .”

He trailed off, for which I was grateful. Pritkin had described what happened once before, and I remembered the conversation in vivid detail. It was a little hard to forget, as he hadn’t spared himself. He hadn’t told me the reason his wife ended up a dried-up shell of a creature, shriveled and desiccated, barely recognizable as human. But he had made sure I knew who had been responsible, at least in his mind.

He might have hated his father because of what he knew or suspected.

But he hated himself a lot more.

Again, I didn’t know what to say. Except the obvious. “It wasn’t your fault,” I said quietly, only to have him give me a look of incredulous disbelief.

“I’ve just explained—”

“That you tried to stop it and you couldn’t. What else could you have done? You didn’t know—”

“I should have! There must have been signs, clues to what she intended—and yet I saw nothing!”

“Maybe there was nothing to see. Maybe she was careful—”

“Maybe I was a blind fool!” He got up and poured more whiskey. “I should have realized what was going on, should have noticed how giddy she suddenly was, how happy . . . but I put it down to the forthcoming wedding. Women like weddings, all the . . . the decorations and the gowns and the . . . And I was busy searching for a home for us. I’d lived in bachelor quarters until then, but they wouldn’t do for her, and—”

He broke off and went back to the sofa. He took the whiskey bottle along. I really couldn’t blame him.

“That night . . . I should have been able to shut things down before they progressed that far. But I couldn’t, because I’d refused to mate with demons, had restricted myself to humans, and therefore knew little about the process. I knew what was happening, but not how to stop it. And obviously, neither did she. I’d kept my lofty principles, thwarted my father’s wishes, and in doing so, left myself ignorant in the one area that mattered. And he knew that. Knew he had the perfect way to punish me for daring to tell him no—”

“Which is my point,” I said, leaning forward, because I couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “Rosier set you up. If you want to blame someone, blame him!”

“I do! But he wasn’t there. He didn’t drain her, he didn’t steal her life away, didn’t feel her crumble in his arms like—”

He cut off, breathing hard, and put his head in his hands. I went over and sat beside him, not hugging him because those moments in the shower had been an aberration, and I somehow knew he wouldn’t appreciate it now. Maybe because of the nervous energy that was thrumming through him, like a grounded lightning rod. I could feel it, just sitting there, an electric charge jumping under his skin.

I didn’t know what to say to Pritkin. When you hated and blamed yourself for something for years, it became truth, your truth, whether it actually was or not. And technically, we were in the same boat. What had happened to Eugenie wasn’t my fault, at least in the sense that I couldn’t have prevented it.

And that was exactly no fucking comfort at all.

After a while, I pulled my feet up and grabbed the whiskey, drinking straight from the bottle. My stomach wasn’t too happy about it, but my stomach could go to hell.

“The worst part,” he finally said, his voice hoarse, “was that I enjoyed it. Emotionally, mentally, I was horrified. But physically . . . it was the same as tonight. When I woke in that car, it was to terrible pain, but also to indescribable pleasure. You held nothing back, your power was right there, and I . . . I could have . . .”

“But you didn’t. You didn’t drain me.”

“I came damn close!”

I shook my head. “No, you didn’t. You took a lot, but I know drained, okay? I’ve fed ghosts, vampires and now a half demon—twice. And both times—”

“I was conscious last time!” he said savagely. “I kept control for nearly the entire process, and you had a place to run when I lost it. None of that was true tonight!” Green eyes blazed into mine. “Do you understand that? Do you realize the risk you ran? You were trapped and there was no one to help you and—”

“And nothing happened.” I didn’t even bother to get annoyed at his tone; yelling at me for saving his life was typical of the man. “Besides, there was someone to help me.”

He snorted. “Caleb? Do you have any idea how inadvisable it is to disturb a demon when it is feeding? And I am more powerful than most because of who sired me. If he’d interfered, the only damage would have been to him!”

“I wasn’t talking about Caleb,” I said evenly.

“You couldn’t access your power. You couldn’t have shifted—”

“Damn it! I’m not talking about me, either. And if you say Rosier, I swear I’ll hit you.”

“There was no one else there.”

I rolled my eyes. Maybe I’d hit him anyway. It was starting to look like the only viable option.

“There was you. I knew I would be okay because I was with you. I knew you wouldn’t—”

“Then you’re a fool,” he rasped. “For one moment, I didn’t know where I was, who you were—I didn’t know anything, but how good pulling on all that power felt. And a moment is all it takes!”

“But you didn’t do it,” I repeated, because he didn’t seem to get that. Which was odd, because for me, it was kind of the main point here.

“But I could have! I felt it, the hunger, the burning, the need.” His fists clenched. “I didn’t want to stop—”