Lothaire

Lothaire’s plans.”

“I’ve got it. But hey, you don’t tell the kid that I was in prison for murder, okay?”

Hag nodded in agreement, and they returned to the kitchen.

At once, Thad stood up from his seat at the counter. What a gentleman.

He was dressed in worn jeans that highlighted his powerful legs and a plain black T-shirt that stretched over his well-developed pecs.

The kid was built like a linebacker.

“You got your color back, Ellie. You’ll be right as rain by the time.

Mr. Lothaire returns.”

As Hag continued her work on the new potion base, Ellie took a seat beside him.

“Tell me how you and my bro met,” Thad said, his eyes excited.

Up close, she could see they were hazel with vivid blue flecks. “Um, Hag brought us together,” Ellie answered vaguely.

He frowned at the word Hag.

“I mean, Balery used her foresight and all.”

“Those oracles”—he smiled over at the fey—“always helping folks out.”

Bite your tongue, Ellie. “So you . . . you can’t truly be friends with Lothaire?”

“I am, ma’am,” he replied proudly, his chest bowing. “I’m fairly sure I’m his only friend.”

Why did that make her heart clench? She hated Lothaire more than ever after last night. Didn’t she?

Surely she did. Yet something else was stirring inside her. Ellie didn’t dare name it because that would confirm she was a fool.

I’m nobody’s fool, least of all Lothaire’s.

He might have changed the way he looked at her, but she was still fresh from sobbing about her upcoming execution. Not to mention this morning’s trip— “Wait, did you call me ma’am? I’m not much older than you are. You look like you’re twenty.”

“Just turned seventeen.” In a matter-of-fact tone, he said, “Everybody thinks I’m older ’cause I’m so tall and built.”

Hag muttered, “That you are.” After clearing her throat, she asked, “How did you meet Lothaire? We find you an unlikely acquaintance for him.”

“He and I were both captured by these human soldiers, then imprisoned on this island to be tortured and experimented on and everything.”

“Oh, my God, that’s awful!” Ellie said, briefly clutching his brawny arm. “Why would they do those things to you?”

“They’re called the Order. They consider immortals miscreats—miscreations. Abominations and all. They plan to exterminate every last one of us.”

“How did you get taken?”

“It’s the damnedest thing. I’d just gone to pick up a girl to take to the movies, worried about nothing more than Eagle Scouts, my curfew—and maybe stealing a kiss from my date.” He winked at Ellie, and she felt like fanning herself. “Next thing I know, I’m waking up in a holding tank with all these creatures. That’s when I flipped out.”

“It must have been terrifying.”

“Well, it wasn’t a June picnic, that’s for sure. And the cell! You can’t imagine what it’s like to be caged for days on end.”

Can’t I? Your friend put me in the big house for five years.

Rubber band snap. Snap!

“I only got one torture session, not too bad, but Mr. Lothaire? They burned him until his skin charred away and you could see his bones.

They starved him. He just laughed, messing with the humans’ minds and all.”

Ellie could easily imagine him doing that.

“When all the prisoners broke loose, he saved my life, repeatedly. And all the while, he was desperate to get off the island. We figured he had someone to get back to. Didn’t know it was you!” Clearly recollecting some memory, Thad said, “Mr. Lothaire sure is wild for you.”

Not for me.

“So, what do you do, Ellie?” he asked.

Well, previously, I held a position on death row, but lately I’ve been a vampire’s plaything. Soon I’ll be sacrificed so the Soul Reaper and the Enemy of Old can make babies.

“What do I do?” Ellie caught Hag’s look of warning. In a feigned bubbly tone, she said, “Hey, you want a drink, Thad? I could use a drink. I’ve gotta show you this chest. . . .”

* * *

Three hours later, Ellie slurred to the chest, “Hos-say Kvervo tee-killer, please.”

Somehow she, Thad, and Hag had already finished two buckets of Coronas.

Thad had told her he’d never tasted tequila. Ellie scarcely remembered it. One way to remedy that!

“Lime. Salt. Another bucket of Coronas. And chips, thanks.”

When Ellie dragged her score out to the deck, she found Thad buzzedly tightening a shutter hinge with a multipurpose pocket tool. So the Eagle Scout.

She and Hag were in bathing suits, and he’d removed his shirt. Though it was a cloudless day, Thad had no problem with the sun, and he had the tan to prove it. “Guess it’s my phantom half,” he’d explained with a shrug.

Behind his back, Ellie mimicked a kitty-cat clawing him; Hag grinned into her beer.

After popping open a round for the three of them, Ellie sank down on the lounge chair to watch sweat trickle along the rises and falls of Thad’s cut torso muscles.

Am I feeling lust for him? Or just appreciating his amazing hotness?

It occurred to her that he was exactly the type of boy she’d always imagined herself with. Good-natured, handsome, considerate.

So why was she so attracted to a deadly, forbidding bloodsucker like Lothaire?

Because of mental trauma and sexual desperation?

Or because of his brilliant mind and seductive touch? That molten gaze . . .

Maybe she should test out whether she truly desired Lothaire or if she simply needed a male—any male.

Maybe test this with Thad? Countless Coronas said this was the best—plan— ever.

When her timer went off, Hag wobbled to her feet, pointing to the sky. “Potion!” she said, like she might say, “Eureka!” Then she veered off to the kitchen.

Alone with Thad, Ellie said, “Thank you so much for bringing me back this morning.” Taking yet another swig of liquid courage, she stood, crossing over to him. “You’re my hero.”

Still concentrating on his chore, he drawled, “Anytime, darlin’.” She’d found out that he was a born-and-bred Texan. A long, tall, gorgeous drink of Texas . . .

“You mind if I give you a hug in thanks?” Her voice had gone throaty.

He turned toward her with a frown, scrubbing his palm over his chin.

Before he could say anything, she laced her hands around his neck, her nails sifting through the hair curling at his nape.

God, he smells incredible. The muscles of his chest flexed against her breasts, his damp skin so hot she could feel it through her top. “Or how about a thank-you kiss?” She stood on her toes.

He blushed deeply. “Uh. You’re Mr. Lothaire’s female, which means you’re taken. Really taken. And as for me, I’m—”

Ellie pressed her lips against his, tightening her embrace while he froze in shock.

But his lips were firm, tasting of lime with a hint of salt. Nice. She kissed harder,