Lothaire (Immortals After Dark #12)(33)

Thaddeus laughed, though Lothaire was in earnest. Ages ago, he’d consumed a sorcerer who knew how to neutralize Wiccan spells. Lothaire still remembered the taste of his blood, still remembered the unlikely ally who’d helped him seize it. . . .

Thaddeus rushed forward, hand outstretched. “In any case, it’s good to see you.”

Lothaire gave his hand a withering glare until the boy dropped it with a grin. No matter how unpleasant he was to the young immortal, Thaddeus still thought the best of him.

In their first encounter, Lothaire had been starving from his captivity and singled Thaddeus out to drink. Young, not so many memories, preferred. The boy lived only because he was part vampire.

“I guess you’re here to check on Chase, huh? I could ask the Valks if they’ll let you past the wraiths, but”—he shuffled his snakeskin boots, discomfited—“they don’t seem to care for you much.”

“I do not ask for anything—I take it. If I wanted in badly enough, even the wraiths couldn’t stop me.” Had I packed appropriately . . .

But he didn’t need to be inside, just nearby Chase.

Thaddeus raised his brows at that but knew better than to disbelieve. Lothaire’s feats on the island had mind-boggled the lad. “Chase is hanging in there—barely—but still unconscious.”

The man had been gutted with a sword. “To be expected, Thaddeus.”

“My friends call me Thad.”

The Enemy of Old conversing with a teenage football-playing Eagle Scout named Thad? A vampire/phantom halfling named Thaddeus was more palatable.

In any case . . .“We are not friends,” Lothaire said, then frowned. The words had made his throat burn, almost as if they were a lie.

How could that be? Thaddeus was everything he wasn’t: a good and decent virgin devoted to his loved ones and friends. Other than the fact that he and Thaddeus were both considered remarkably attractive—Lothaire much more so, of course—they couldn’t be more dissimilar.

“I gotta tell you, Regin’s still really pee-ohed at you for screwing all of us over.” He kicked a stone in the path.

Regin the Radiant was a warmongering Valkyrie. Along with Lothaire, Thaddeus, and eventually Chase himself, she’d been part of a group of six allying solely to escape the island, a not-so-merry band. Lothaire had saved their lives in exchange for vows from Chase.

If the Blademan lives, he’ll go into my account book.

The six had been on the run together for a week, had fought mutual enemies side by side. Until Lothaire had cut a deal with their adversaries—whom he’d ultimately dicked over as well.

“I saw a play open and took it.” In a thoughtful tone, Lothaire said, “And yet, Regin forgave Chase for all his sins against her?”

Before Chase had remembered that he’d loved her in a past life, the Blademan had followed Webb’s orders and tortured Regin, had looked her in the eyes and released an excruciating pain poison into the Valkyrie’s body.

Later he’d been wracked with guilt.

“Regin knew DC wasn’t evil, not deep down,” Thaddeus said. “She’s certain you are.”

Sanctimonious Valkyrie. Regin had probably killed thousands of Loreans over her long life. Yet she was admired for it. Lothaire? Reviled.

“I hope your blood does the trick for DC,” Thaddeus said. “If you saved his life, then they’d have to forgive you, right?”

“You are so na?ve, it physically aggrieves me.” Besides, not every man survived the transformation.

Thaddeus nodded gravely. “Been hearing a lot about you, Mr. Lothaire. None of it good. I take up for you all the time, but it seems like half of these Lore folks have this really bad impression of you.”

“For accuracy’s sake, I’d put that percentage closer to ninety. And their impressions are accurate.” Lothaire had happily wronged most of them in reprehensible ways. “Taking up for me only makes you appear pitiably uninformed or willfully obtuse . . .” He trailed off, his attention already wandering toward the house. Keen to get back to my Bride.

The thought brought him up short. Why did Lothaire feel so connected to her now? Years before, he’d easily parted from her. Now, spending mere moments without her was affecting him. Blyad’!

“Regin also said your red eyes mean you’re going crazy.”

“Surely she phrased it more colorfully than that?” Regin was a loudmouthed attention whore who thought herself amusing.

Thaddeus ran his hand over the back of his neck. “She said, ‘Look at me, I’m Lothaire, I am the walrus, koo-koo-ka-choo.’ Or something like that. She told me you were gonna be even loopier than N?x. Is that true?”

N?x the Ever-Knowing, the Valkyrie oracle. His nemesis for millennia, she’d thwarted more vampire schemes than all the other factions’ soothsayers combined.

“Crazier than N?x? Impossible.” She was much worse off than Lothaire. He wondered if she’d foreseen Saroya. The only good thing about N?x? She was so maddened that she often forgot her visions.

But what if she had remembered? What if N?x conspired against him even now? White queen moving against black king on the chessboard . . .

Thaddeus muttered, “Your eyes are changing by the second. Worse than I’ve ever seen them.”

Uneasy leaving my Bride alone. Mercenaries and assassins from all factions hunted him constantly. Whenever powerful Loreans owed him blood debts, they usually opted to send their best warriors for Lothaire’s head. “Occupational hazard. But the benefits are fantastic.”