A Hunger Like No Other (Immortals After Dark #2)(62)
Author: Kresley Cole

"So. Do you wuv him?"

"Shut it."

"Would you run into his arms?" Nïx asked. Her aunts believed that a Valkyrie would always know her true love when he opened his arms to her and she realized she would forever run to get within them. Emma had thought it a quaint legend, but her aunts swore by it.

"We’ve only been together for two weeks." The only thing she knew for certain was that he made her happy. Because of Lachlain, she could now determine that she enjoyed – in addition to getting gifts from vending machines and popping bubble wrap – showers big enough for two, stripping to his riveted gaze, drinking straight from the tap, and night-blooming flowers. Oh, and daily gifts of priceless jewels.

"Do you enjoy it there?"

"It’s a sweet setup, I’ll admit. For all that the maids still show up each day with jumbo crucifixes, jumpy movements, and eyes red from crying over the short straw that drew them vampire duty." Yesterday, she’d just stopped herself from raising her clenched hands above her head and chasing one of them around the room groaning, "I vant to suck your blood."

"If that’s your only complaint… Or are your memory dreams a problem? I’m assuming the ones you spoke of were Lachlain’s memories."

"Yeah, I can see things from his eyes, smell scents he smelled." Just the thought of those memories made her mood turn serious. "In one dream, he was buying this gorgeous gold necklace, and when he picked it up, I felt the metal warming in my hands. I know, I know, it’s crazy."

"Are they all old memories? Or do you experience what he remembers about you?"

"They all seem connected to me somehow, and yes, I’ve heard him thinking to himself about me."

"Nice things, I hope?"

"Very nice things. He…he thinks I’m beautiful." In her dream just today came the memory of him watching her pad into the shower one night, his eyes glued to the ribbon swaying down from the string waist of her Strumpet & Pink thong. Back and forth.

She now knew he liked her elaborate lingerie, liked that he alone knew what was beneath her clothing. Back and forth went the ribbon. He growled so low she didn’t hear him.

She has an arse men should write sonnets to…

Her toes still curled to think of that one.

"How welcome that must be for someone so irrationally insecure as you."

It was. "There’s only one drawback – "

"Seeing him in the past with another woman?"

"Bingo. I think if I saw that, I’d lose it. I fear that I will see that." To know his thoughts and his pleasure as he touched another?

"You know, I never see what I truly don’t want to see."

"Like the death of a Valkyrie." Nïx had never been able to. She could predict much about their charges, could often see the Valkyrie’s upcoming injuries, but never to the point of death. To Cara’s great despair, Nïx couldn’t see Furie’s fate.

"Yes. It’s likely that you will never see these things because your mind knows you might not recover from it."

Chapter 20

"I hope. Why do you think this is happening?"

"Why do you?"

"I, uh, well, the thing is that…I drank directly from him," she finally confessed. "I fear it’s related to that."

"Emma, I’ve heard that all vampires can take memories from the blood, but only some can interpret them and see them. Looks like you just found a new talent."

"Great. Why couldn’t I be good at underwater origami or something?"

"Have you told Lachlain?"

"Not just yet. But I will," Emma added in a rush. "It’s not like I could not tell him, right?"

"Right. Now, on to a much, much more important subject… Did you get the gold necklace you saw him buy?"

29

I think your queen misses her coven," Harmann remarked when Emma had been at Kinevane for her second week.

"Aye, I gathered as much," Lachlain said, glancing up from papers strewn all about his desk. Missing her family was a blight on her happiness, but one soon rectified. As would be her marked dread of meeting other Lykae. She’d told him she was "shooting one in three with Lykae" and "wouldn’t take that to the track." They were arriving in just three days. "But what makes you say that?"

"She dragged a maid into her drawing room to play video games. Then they painted each other’s toenails. Blue."

He leaned back. "How’d the girl react?"

"Scared at first, but growing more comfortable. They all are. She could actually win them over." With a proud smile, he confided, "She calls me Manny."

Lachlain grinned.

"She didn’t even ask me to do impressions." Harmann frowned to himself, and muttered, "They always ask me to do impressions."

"Does she have everything she needs?" he asked, though he knew she was growing content. When happy, she’d sing softly, absently. Oftentimes, he heard her voice lilting up from the "lunarium," as she called it, while she tended her garden. He could almost wager she liked the jasmine better than the jewels.

"Oh, yes. She’s, uh, quite the talented, efficient, and, dare I say, aggressive shopper."

Lachlain had noticed her purchases himself and suspected he stood a little taller now that she was filling their home with things she liked or needed, making it her own. He found it deeply satisfying to see it taking shape. Did he even pretend to know why she needed hundreds of bottles of nail polish? No, but he liked that when he kissed her wee toes, he never knew what color they’d be.

For his part, Lachlain was healing, feeling stronger every day. His leg was nearly back to normal and his power was returning. His own sense of contentment – even in light of everything that had happened – was shockingly strong. And it was all because of her.

The only blight on his happiness was the fact that he would soon leave her, which was unbearable in itself, but now she’d begun insisting on going with him. She’d told him that she would go and fight by his side and "not let all this considerable badassness go to waste," or she would return to her coven.

She refused to remain behind at Kinevane. He knew he could talk her from her ultimatum. Surely, she could be brought to see things logically. Yet every day as she got stronger, he was a bit less confident. If she remained resolved in this, his choices would be to give up his revenge or possibly lose her to her coven. Both were untenable, in his mind.

He and Harmann finished speaking of some other business details, and shortly after Harmann scuttled off again, Bowe rapped on the door.