Lothaire (Immortals After Dark #12)(148)

Ellie had already made up her mind that she’d try living in Lothaire’s castle and being a queen of the vampires and all, but this was too funny an opportunity to pass up.

Lothaire swallowed, his gaze flickering over the Beanie Babies on the windowsill and the stuffed animals.

“You could like it here, Lothaire, I just know it!”

With a pained expression, he said, “Those stuffed animals horrify and repel me.” He shuddered. “And the aura of pathos in this place is inescapable. You don’t . . . you can’t want to live here. Not instead of a castle with servants to wait on your every need?”

“Sure I could! And then you wouldn’t need all those fancy clothes of yours.”

He squirmed. “I don’t think I can live here. I really don’t, Elizabeth.”

And because she was so attuned to him, she could feel something akin to panic inside him. “Don’t want to even give it a try?”

“Actually, I can’t even be here for much longer.”

She patted his hand. “I know, baby, I know.”

“If you know I can’t be here, and you won’t come with me . . .” His eyes reddened ominously. “You believe we’re living apart? I tried that; I detested that!”

Then he made a clear effort to calm himself. He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it. At length, he grated, “I’m purchasing this mountain and the adjoining ones for you.”

A breath left her. “Lothaire, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Come with me back to our kingdom, and I will have a mansion built here for your mother.” With great effort, he said, “We could visit, if infrequently.”

She leaned down until their faces were inches apart. “We’ll visit every weekend, holidays, and NASCAR, vampire.” She pressed her lips against his, sighing from the rightness of it, from the certainty that her life was with him.

Oh, Lothaire, you’re not even gonna know what hit you. . . .

Between kisses, he told her, “If you agree to only Sundays and holidays, I will buy all your brethren homes.” Against her lips, he said, “And you knew NASCAR was pushing it, Bride.”





EPILOGUE


SOME TIME LATER . . .

We’d snickered behind your back,” Stelian told Lothaire in a dazed tone, “amused by how such a young female was managing you.” His expression was thunderstruck.

Lothaire knew that look, wore it often himself. “But you understood nothing of which you spoke?” he said, gazing at Elizabeth across the den of their castle apartments. She sat before a hearth fire, laughing with Hag and Kosmina, the royal hound at her feet.

“Correct.” Stelian swigged a deep drink of blood mead. “How did she just get me to agree to her family’s Christmas visit?”

In a tone both rueful and brimming with pride, he said, “You never see my queen coming till it’s too late.” Just this evening, Elizabeth had somehow gotten Lothaire to agree to take Joshua—and eight of his cousins—trick-or-treating.

But really. How hard could that be?

Though it shouldn’t have surprised anyone, the mortal boy worshipped Lothaire.

I’m acquiring relatives like unspayed cat shifters.

Elizabeth caught his gaze, casting him that mind-scrambling smile of hers. Draped in the jewels he lovingly bestowed upon her, she radiated her contentment.

She’d had no trouble adjusting to this foreign way of life, taking everything in stride. With each foray out into their new realm, she’d readily picked up more of her subjects’ language and customs.

And taught them some of her own. The reserved Daci . . . adored her, found her refreshing. As predicted.

After excusing herself, Elizabeth traced to sit beside him on the settee. Their hound—which he refused to call Bo Junior—chuffed indignantly, still baffled whenever anyone traced.

As Lothaire took her hand in his, pressing a tender kiss to the back, Stelian excused himself with a wary glance at Elizabeth.

“Everyone’s getting along so much better, don’t you think?” she asked. She’d long since dreamed his memories of Dacia, and after analyzing Lothaire’s relationships with the royals, she’d set about “salvaging” them.

Now that Elizabeth was queen, some of the ice among them all was in fact thawing. After centuries of strife, they’d begun gathering around the den hearth. Still he said, “Would I admit it, if I did?”

“Lothaire-speak?” She quirked a brow. “Well, I think everything’s coming along nicely.”

Upon meeting Viktor, she’d told the general, “You’re the fierce one Lothaire bragged about! No wonder he appointed you to be head of my guard. When he’s away, he’ll trust me with no one else.” The soldier’s chest had bowed.

To Mirceo, she’d said, “You could ask Balery to see how long your wait for your Bride will be. Counting down sometimes helps.” Advice from a wise queen who’d had grueling life experiences to count down.

She’d told Trehan, “If I can live with Lothaire, then anything is possible with your Bride. Can’t you give your relationship just one more try?”

With Kosmina, she’d done little managing, admitting to Lothaire, “I don’t even know where to start. She might truly need a complete reboot. . . .” Hello, Louisiana.