Lothaire

She’d just started talking herself out of it when she realized she at least had to tell them they could safely come out of hiding now.

Besides, she still refused to accept that she couldn’t see them, that she’d never return to her mountain.

Though she understood Lothaire’s caution about mixing immortal strength with human frailty—Vampirellie never met a doorknob she didn’t break—she believed she could train herself to control her strength.

And what of the warning that she should never needlessly reveal the Lore to humans? Well, her family had had their blinders pulled off long before now. First with Saroya, and then with Lothaire.

If the gods wanted to punish Ellie, she’d remind them that hosting Saroya in her body for six years was time fucking served.

On that thought, she dialed her mother’s cell. “Mama? It’s me. Ellie.”

“Oh, Lord Jesus in heaven, I knew you wasn’t dead! They told us you’d been shot in some prison escape, but I knew you still lived! Why ain’t you come home?”

Ellie could hear the bafflement in her mother’s tone, understood it. If she was alive and out of jail, then she ought to be home—end of story. “I will in the future. Sometime. But it’s . . . complicated, Mama. And really hard to believe.”

“Well, let me see if I can’t keep up and keep my eyes in my head.”

Where to begin? So much had happened. How much should she reveal to her mother? “First, tell me how Josh is doing.”

“Josh is getting even more rambunctious, unruly, and willful, so naturally the family’s proud as all get out —”

Valkyrie shrieks sounded in the next room.

Mama cried, “What in the hell was that?”

“The TV! Let me turn it down.” She sped to the door, closing it and locking it—by breaking the knob. Shit. “How’s everyone else doing? How about you?”

“Oh, honey, we’re all managing just fine,” she said brightly. Too brightly.

“Tell me how bad it is, Mama.”

An exhalation into the phone. “We’re scraping together mortgage payments each month, but Va-Co’s holding our feet to the fire, girl.”

Ellie’s fangs sharpened, violence simmering inside her.

“All our men are back in the mine.”

“What? But they swore they were done with that. What about Ephraim’s store?”

“In this economy? All closed down. It was either the mine, or we’d lose the mountain. Most of your cousins are just happy for the work.”

“I’m gonna figure out a way to send you money, okay?”

“Ellie, just tell me about you. Start from the beginning.”

She nibbled her lip. “Remember that red-eyed demon everybody saw that night?”

“The one we’re hidin’ out from? The Mothman?”

“That’d be him. Only he’s not a demon or Mothman, and you don’t have to hide any longer. He’ll never hurt you.” Lothaire could never break his vow not to harm her family—she’d seen firsthand how binding those vows were.

“Then what is he?”

After a hesitation, Ellie admitted, “He’s a vampire. He’s the one that broke me out of prison. His name’s Lothaire Daciano.” Merely saying his name brought on a pang. You took my name the instant I claimed you. . . .

Mama sputtered, “V-vampire? Oh, Ellie, you’re about to give me a heart attack. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure—I’ve seen him drink blood.”

“Jesus! Did this . . . vampire hurt you? Are you with him now?”

“He came to be protective of me, took me traveling over the whole world. He’d thought that Saroya freak was his mate, but it turns out I was.”

“Is Saroya still killing?”

“She’s gone, Mama. Forever.”

“You’re cured! Why didn’t you tell me that first?”

Because I was cured of one thing only to become afflicted with something else—something you might have an even harder time accepting. “Um, it hasn’t really sunk in that I’m free of her.”

“Are you still goin’ with that vampire feller? Or do I need to send our menfolk to collect you?”

“No way, Mama! Unless you want them all killed. Besides, I’m not with him at present. I kinda got nabbed by some of his enemies. A bunch of gals. They’re very decent though,” Ellie quickly added. “I get all the food I can eat”—blood I can drink—“and we watch soap operas together. I’ve got my own room”— which used to belong to some kind of ice princess—“and they treat me real nice.”

Not that Ellie relished being a prisoner, but until she could figure out all her new powers, being in a protected, sunless environment wasn’t all that bad.

Every hour here she was learning more about the Lore, and the girls were good company. Never kicking my ass much more than I kick theirs.

One of the first things she’d learned? Fighting was kind of fun when you never stayed hurt from it for long.

“I don’t mind it here at all, really.” In a way, she was grateful to be in Val Hall. Because for whatever reason, Lothaire hadn’t come to get her.

Deep down, Ellie knew she had nowhere else to go. That knowledge was terrifying.

“They’re teaching me all about vampires”—myself—“while I wait to see if Lothaire will come ransom me.”

Nïx had been a lifesaver, hooking Ellie up with the same tracing tutor who’d taught Thad—though Ellie wasn’t allowed to see or communicate with the boy himself. Thad was too loyal to Lothaire, and the Valkyries feared he’d divvy information about her to their enemy.

The tutor, a halfling vampire/Valkyrie named Emmaline MacRieve, was utterly lovely, with bone structure to die for, petite fangs, pointed ears, and long golden locks. She’d been genuinely encouraging when Ellie had started to trace. Well, to waver. Though Ellie hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it, she practiced every day.

But she could tell Emmaline was keeping her distance, and something about the halfling kept tugging at Ellie’s memory, making her wary as well.

Emmaline had probably had some kind of bad personal experience with Lothaire. It seemed like everyone in the Lore had a story to tell about that vampire.

“If he ransoms you?” Mama demanded. “I thought you said he’s protective of you. Why wouldn’t he?”

“We kinda had a falling out. But I’m confident he’ll come ’round.” Please come ’round, Lothaire!

“What is he like?” Mama asked, lighting a cigarette. “That blood-drinker?”

“He’s tall, handsome, rich as the day is long.” And quite the celebrity.

In the mortal world, Lothaire would’ve been a heartthrob actor—who’d merely committed an average of a couple of murders a day, for millennia.

As “the Bride of Lothaire,” she’d gained some notoriety as well, among Loreans curious about the death-row mortal who’d somehow survived the turning to vampire. When no other female on record had.

“He’s also a powerful king among his kind,” Ellie said. “Famous in his circles.” Infamous for his underhanded ruthlessness.

Yes, Ellie had heard all about his misdeeds, knew everyone in the Lore considered him a diabolical fiend. But in the end, she’d decided that while he might be a fiend, he was still her guy.

She sighed again. Was he hers? She wondered that every minute of the day. Would he never come to collect her?

In her mind, what it boiled down to was that they had a lot of work to do on their relationship; now that she