Néomi sighed, 'Quite.' Not only was Conrad insatiable, the male had stamina. He was discovering all the wonders of lovemaking, but she was rediscovering it with a virile male, forever in his prime. 'I'd never been with anyone immortal before. There's certainly a difference.'
By turns, he could be both gentle and fierce with sex. But he never hurt her, and she loved that she never knew what side of Conrad she'd get.
And the more self-assured in bed he became, the more domineering he grew. His growing confidence thrilled her, giving her delicious shivers because she knew it would only continue to get better and better.
Then she would remember she was leaving.
'I knew a witch who slept with a vamp once,' Mari said in a lower tone. 'I asked her what it was like, and she told me, 'You never forget for a second that you're with a vampire.''
'C'est vrai. That is one hundred percent true. Conrad once told me of having new vampire instincts that overrode his human ones, and I can definitely see it.'
Whenever he put his mouth on her, he held her down, until she felt like the caught lure he'd nicknamed her. If he kissed her mouth, he held her face and the back of her neck, as if he feared she'd get away. When he suckled her breasts, he'd greedily cup both of them from the sides, firmly gripping them. As he squeezed, she could almost hear him thinking, Mine.
Leaning forward in her chair, Mari asked, 'Does he ever want to drink you? I've heard some chicks actually like it.'
'I think he does want to, but he never has.' Sometimes when they had sex, she sensed him skirting the edge of his control, especially now that he was growing so fatigued from hunting that demon. But she always pulled back from him, and he didn't press. 'He's afraid of hurting me.'
'He can't have your blood anyway. If he got your memories, then that'd be a surefire way to find out your secret. Think about it—you're never going to tell anyone. I'm not, and Nïx won't. How else could anyone find out unless Conrad drank you?'
'I know. Believe me, I know.'
'So what are you going to do if he asks you to marry him or something? Isn't he from the seventeenth century? Guys from the past seem to get really weird about issues like marriage. And I should know, since I married one.'
'I've thought and thought about it, and I've decided that I can't in any way promise my future when it's so uncertain.' She didn't want Mari to think she was complaining, but pretending with Conrad was already difficult at times—Néomi didn't know how she could make it through even a short marriage ceremony. Till death do us part... possibly next week.
'Has he told you he loves you yet?'
'No, and I'm glad for it.' Néomi knew he'd fallen for her as deeply as she had for him, but she dreaded that he would tell her he loved her. 'Whenever I sense he's about to get serious, I keep the mood light.'
'What would be so bad about him telling you that?'
'I wouldn't be able to stop myself from saying it back! And once he knows for certain how I feel about him, he'd never accept that I won't marry him.'
'Yeah, that would be a strange conversation: 'I love you with all my heart!' 'Then you'll marry me!' 'Meh.''
'Exactement—' She froze. 'He's home! I must go!'
'Don't be a stranger, Néomi!' Mari made her tone ominous. 'No. Really. Don't be. Or my crew and I will show you a bar tab you'll never forget.'
Her worry for Conrad evaporating, Néomi laughed. As she dashed out of the studio and up the stairs to their room, she wondered what side of him she'd get tonight.
34
Vicious, eager to torture, and impatient to drink, he thought as he sank down onto the front steps with a weary exhalation, mug of blood in hand. So far, everyone he'd seized to question about Tarut had believed the notorious Conrad Wroth was the same as he'd always been.
Which was good—because he wasn't anything like he'd always been.
Staring into his mug, he reflected on his latest hunt. He'd chased down his final solid lead, and it hadn't generated any additional ones. Another failed search.
Conrad had nothing new to go on, and fatigue had begun setting in hard as he searched relentlessly for Tarut. When Conrad did sleep, his nightmares were grueling.
He dreamed of Néomi in ghostly black-and-white again, her cheeks and eyes shadowed. He saw her trapped somewhere in the dark, screaming in horror, choking on it.
The image was so agonizing to him, he wondered if it was some sort of dream demon's weapon that Tarut was wielding.
So Conrad had ceased sleeping for the most part, using the time to hunt longer in whatever part of the world was still night.
He'd gone to all of the demon's lairs, and to all of his comrades', mercilessly combing for leads. Conrad had been attacked twice so far, by human Kapsligas who didn't know better. He'd dealt them a lesson, but hadn't killed them—they weren't enough of a challenge to truthfully claim self-defense.
Yet no sign of Tarut.
Conrad had continually debated whether he was making things worse by staying with Néomi. Ultimately, he'd admitted what he'd always known: the damage had already been done. She'd been in danger since the night of the gathering. He'd been offered his dream—and he'd selfishly accepted it.
Even if Conrad was separated from her for a thousand years, she would still be what he treasured above all things—and what he feared losing most.
If only I could turn her into a vampire. Then she wouldn't be so utterly vulnerable. But he knew females never made it through the transition. Not one of his four sisters had risen... .
In a way, he'd always been relieved that they hadn't. They'd been sensitive girls—he couldn't imagine them waking from the dead with a cup of blood shoved in their faces. Now Conrad wondered if they would have grown from their childhood. Could they have adapted? He'd never know.
Once he'd finished the mug, he traced directly to the bathroom to shower and shave, allowing her to sleep longer. Under the hot water, he cursed under his breath. He'd forgotten to make plans for them tonight. Where in the world to take her... ?
Yet when he entered the room, he found her awake and smiling to see him. She made his heart speed up just to see her. 'You're up and dressed? But not to go out?'
She was wearing a red negligee, with her creamy breasts spilling out. Her hair was long and free as she knew he liked it. Even his beaten body stirred behind his towel.
Every time he took her, he fell more deeply under her spell. After three hundred plus years of musing what sex would be like, he'd had high expectations. She continued to shatter them.
'I don't want to go out tonight,' she said. 'Maybe we could relax here?' She sat on the bed and patted the spot beside her. 'I could rebandage your arm.'
He eyed her suspiciously. 'Are you intent on managing me for something?'
She plucked up the roll of gauze. 'My intentions with your body are pure.'
Once he sat beside her, she rose to her knees and wound the gauze around his arm.
'There's more to this hunt than merely striking first, isn't there?' When he nodded, she said, 'Tell me.'
'As soon as you tell me about your secret.' Thoughts of what it could be plagued him.
'Are we to quarrel, Conrad? I'd rather spend the night massaging your back and making love, but if you insist... '
'You must know I'll only let this go for so long. I have unfinished business—but when I'm freed of that worry, I'll track down everything you keep from me.'
Conrad had two theories. It was possible that she'd made a deal with a sorcerer—one of the very ones he'd
