Lothaire (Immortals After Dark #12)(108)

As he watched her saunter away, he thought, She doesn’t believe I’m evil, not really.

Yesterday when he returned to Hag’s to pick Elizabeth up, she’d been asleep. Carefully he’d lifted her into his arms, and she’d burrowed her face against his chest so trustingly. He’d gazed down at her, troubled, thinking, She still has no idea what I’m truly capable of, no idea what I’ve done.

What I would do to possess her forever.

Now he exhaled a gust of breath, sitting at the dining table. In a low tone, he asked the fey, “Does Elizabeth speak of me?” Hag gave a wary nod. “And? What are her feelings toward me?”

“They vary according to your behavior.” She dropped leaves into a pot. “Amazing how that works out.”

His gaze narrowed. “Watch yourself, Hag.” Again his mood was foul. He’d spent the day uselessly dreaming his own memories once more.

“She hasn’t told me that she loves you, if that’s what you want to know.”

It was. He needed Elizabeth to fall in love with him—because only then would he trust her loyalty to him.

Yet a lesser male might suspect that she still hated him for all his sins against her and merely bided her time until she could be free of him.

And free of Saroya.

Hag asked, “Do you not see her thoughts in dreams?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “None.” Even though he continued to sip from her.

Whenever he slept, Elizabeth was like a quiet blank spot in his mind. And no matter how much he prompted, she’d never told him of her feelings.

Yet nightly, she said or did something to remind him of how much she longed for her family.

Though he felt like a petty, jealous lover, he knew that if she was loyal to them, then she couldn’t be fully loyal to him. The situation would be ripe for betrayal, because she would choose their interests over his if a conflict ever arose.

And let’s be realistic, when would I not be in conflict with those ill-bred humans?

Severing contact with them was the wisest course. News reports held that Elizabeth had been mortally wounded in a botched prison escape. Her family would believe her dead.

“You’re ceding your heart to her,” Hag observed.

He gazed in Elizabeth’s direction. “She is”—he paused, then admitted—“treasured. If anything should happen to me, you are to protect her. Search for a way to free her.”

The fey nodded. “Speaking of something happening to you, Dorada’s been felt in the South, near the Valkyrie coven in Louisiana.”

The sorceress had previously lived in the Amazon; now she was in Louisiana? He’d bet the hideous mummy and her Wendigo lackeys were hiding out in the swamp basin.

“I’ll go there this eve.” He would trace to a bayou bar called Erol’s, one frequented by scores of immortals. Perhaps Dorada had journeyed to that area because of the Lore energy. Or perhaps she’d sensed he had been there recently.

“Has Saroya risen?” Hag asked.

“Once. While Elizabeth slept.” The girl had never even known.

He’d wasted no time castigating Saroya, taking out his fury at himself on her. “You knew you weren’t my f*cking Bride!”

“Are you so sure?”

How could he ever have been fooled? “You’re not mine. I’d seek a noon-day sun if paired with you.” Hadn’t he told Elizabeth the same thing? He flinched when he thought of how incredibly much he’d insulted her. “You knew all along that I had no fated tie to you.”

“I used your own arrogance as a weapon against you. Such a plentiful arsenal. Besides, deep down you recognized Elizabeth as yours but refused to accept it. Which is understandable in the extreme, Lothaire. Regardless, you’ll forsake her for me, because you still want your crowns.” She’d gazed down at Elizabeth’s body with contempt. “Even though you’re obviously mating with her.”

“I’ll find another way to get my kingdoms.”

“If you discover a way for a vampire to break a vow to the Lore, do let me know. . . .”

His vows bound him like shackles, forcing him onto a path from which he could not veer.

They compelled him to search tirelessly. In order to spend time with Elizabeth, he had to resist the compulsion, but could only do so for limited amounts of time.

She returned then, showered, dressed, carrying a loaded breakfast plate. “Will you play nice with all the other little vampires when you’re out searching tonight?”

He ignored Hag’s inquiring look. He knew the oracle wondered what his Endgame was now.

Lothaire only wished it were as clear as it’d been for the millennia before. “Of course.” He stood. “I leave now.”

“At least kiss me like you’ll miss me, Leo,” Elizabeth demanded in a saucy tone that made him want to do nothing more than trace her back to their bed. “Else I won’t think you’re sweet on me.”

The corners of his lips curled. He liked her accent now. Even if he hadn’t started to find her mountain drawl sexy, it was an asset for her—people heard her speak and saw her beauty and underestimated her.

Just as he had. Sucker punch. But no longer. Each day with her, he was learning what a formidable female she was.

Whenever they traveled, her keen mind soaked up knowledge like a sponge. Teaching her proved rewarding, enjoyable. And experiencing those locales with her cast them in a new light, making them exciting for him once more.