Lothaire (Immortals After Dark #12)(130)

“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.”

N?x 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?