Nigellus snorted. “Oh, dear. That would explain it, I suppose. For an undead erection lasting more than four hours...?”
“Excuse me?” I squeaked, trying not to blush crimson. “Holy shit, was that what you meant by the quip about my blood being ‘stimulating’?”
Apparently, not even vampires could burn someone to ashes with the power of their gaze. Otherwise, Nigellus would presumably have gone up in a puff of smoke under the dark look Rans was leveling at the back of his head.
“Yes. It was,” he said, biting off the words, one by one. “Nigellus, don’t be crass.”
“You’re absolutely right, of course,” Nigellus said diplomatically. “Forgive me, my dear. I forget that all this is new to you.”
“It’s going to continue to be new to me until I get the answers I need,” I snapped. “So, give me some. I assume you’re a vampire as well?” It was a guess, but it seemed a logical one based on Nigellus’ darkly striking looks and the aura of otherworldly danger that seemed to lurk beneath the cultured exterior.
“No,” Nigellus said, as though I’d surprised him. “What would give you that idea?”
He sounded genuinely taken aback.
Beside me, Rans shifted. He was looking out the window, and didn’t move his gaze from the scenery outside as he spoke.
“There are no other vampires,” he said quietly.
SEVENTEEN
“THERE ARE NO other vampires.”
Rans’ voice had been so low as to be nearly inaudible.
“What... none?” I frowned, having difficulty taking that on board. “Why not? What happened?”
He waved a careless hand toward Nigellus in the driver’s seat. “You’ll need to ask someone else that question. I have no memories at all of either the war, or its immediate aftermath.”
“All of the other vampires were killed in the fighting,” Nigellus explained. “They were allied with my people during the last few centuries of the conflict.”
I mulled that over for a few moments. “So... that makes you a demon, Nigellus?”
“For my sins,” he said lightly.
Another short pause. “I thought you weren’t allowed to interfere in the human realm,” I pointed out. “Aren’t you doing exactly that right now?”
“Neither of you are human,” Nigellus replied smoothly.
Rans gave a derisive snort, though he still didn’t look away from the window.
“Technicalities have value,” Nigellus insisted. “To answer your question more fully, Zorah, there are unwritten rules. Places where the Fae don’t generally care to go, and where Demons still maintain a low-key presence.”
“Places like Atlantic City?” I hazarded.
“Atlantic City... Monte Carlo... Las Vegas... New Orleans. There are a few others,” he agreed. “Some places are more conducive to Fae magic than others, and as a species they’re not fond of either technology or rampant vice.”
“Whereas demons are all about rampant vice?”
“Demons are morally adaptable, within limits,” he allowed. “Morally, and... otherwise. Though, even given that adaptability, I must say I’m surprised that you’ve managed to pass as human for... what? Two decades or more on your own? That’s rather extraordinary.”
I thought of my chronic health problems, my relationship issues with family and lovers alike, my nagging unhappiness, and my inability to quite fit in anywhere. A bitter smile pulled at my lips.
“What can I say?” I quipped. “I guess it’s a gift.”
Conversation trailed off after that. Both Rans and I were surrounded by our own dark clouds of discontent, and Nigellus seemed content to let us stew. What I had just been told was fantastical. Ridiculous. So why did it also feel like the missing jigsaw puzzle piece that, when slotted into place, would help my life make sense?
After all, I’d been so convinced that there was more to the world than what we were told. Now the explanation was being handed to me on a platter, garnished with mystery, uncertainty, and danger. Was knowing the truth better than remaining ignorant, even if it meant my life was in danger?
I wasn’t sure.
* * *
A little over an hour later, we pulled up to what could, without too much of a stretch, be called a mansion. Nigellus turned out to be a consummate host, showing us to our respective guest rooms before giving us an abbreviated tour of the house and grounds. For some reason, it surprised me that the place was done up in cool pastel shades, the rooms light and airy, the decor inviting.
It did not surprise me that Nigellus had a butler. A freaking butler, like Alfred from the Batman movies. Nigellus introduced him as Edward, and it was obvious that he, too, knew Rans from long acquaintance.
“How lovely to see you again, sir,” the elderly gentleman enthused, shaking Rans’ hand in both of his wrinkled ones. “Allow me to get you and your lady friend a drink.” His bright eyes slid to me. “And perhaps a light brunch after your journey?”
I declined the food but accepted a glass of iced lemonade, sipping it in the kitchen while Rans nursed a glass of rosé wine. Nigellus excused himself to deal with some business, whatever that meant. Edward puttered around, prepping food for the evening meal. The old man was impossible not to like, and I wondered how on earth he’d ended up working as household staff for a demon.
Somehow, it seemed impolite to ask.
“You’ll need to acquire some basics,” he told me as he chopped vegetables. “Clothing, toiletries. Would you like me to have those things delivered?”
To say I wasn’t used to having a butler on call was putting it mildly. “I can’t ask you to do that, Edward,” I said. “I’ve got a bit of cash on me. I can pick up the essentials if there’s a Wal-Mart or something nearby.”
Rans made a disgusted noise. “Nonsense. We’re practically on top of the boardwalk here. I’ll take you out shopping. You can use Guthrie’s card—his accountants won’t even notice such a negligible amount.”
For a moment,
