Lothaire (Immortals After Dark #12)(94)

“I don’t understand. Saroya has no powers.”

“The Horde will only accept a royal vampire heir, or one married to a royal. . . .”

“Or a former vampire goddess.”

“Exactly. And since he plans to use the Horde to take over the Daci, Saroya equals two crowns.”

Ellie equaled nothing.

Doesn’t matter if I’m his Bride. He’d have to want her more than he did those thrones.

When Ellie finished dressing, Hag said, “Again, you can’t tell Thad anything that might get in the way of Lothaire’s plans.”

“I’ve got it. But hey, you don’t tell the kid that I was in prison for murder, okay?”

Hag nodded in agreement, and they returned to the kitchen.

At once, Thad stood up from his seat at the counter. What a gentleman.

He was dressed in worn jeans that highlighted his powerful legs and a plain black T-shirt that stretched over his well-developed pecs.

The kid was built like a linebacker.

“You got your color back, Ellie. You’ll be right as rain by the time

Mr. Lothaire returns.”

As Hag continued her work on the new potion base, Ellie took a seat beside him.

“Tell me how you and my bro met,” Thad said, his eyes excited.

Up close, she could see they were hazel with vivid blue flecks. “Um, Hag brought us together,” Ellie answered vaguely.

He frowned at the word Hag.

“I mean, Balery used her foresight and all.”

“Those oracles”—he smiled over at the fey—“always helping folks out.”

Bite your tongue, Ellie. “So you . . . you can’t truly be friends with Lothaire?”

“I am, ma’am,” he replied proudly, his chest bowing. “I’m fairly sure I’m his only friend.”

Why did that make her heart clench? She hated Lothaire more than ever after last night. Didn’t she?

Surely she did. Yet something else was stirring inside her. Ellie didn’t dare name it because that would confirm she was a fool.

I’m nobody’s fool, least of all Lothaire’s.

He might have changed the way he looked at her, but she was still fresh from sobbing about her upcoming execution. Not to mention this morning’s trip— “Wait, did you call me ma’am? I’m not much older than you are. You look like you’re twenty.”

“Just turned seventeen.” In a matter-of-fact tone, he said, “Everybody thinks I’m older ’cause I’m so tall and built.”

Hag muttered, “That you are.” After clearing her throat, she asked, “How did you meet Lothaire? We find you an unlikely acquaintance for him.”

“He and I were both captured by these human soldiers, then imprisoned on this island to be tortured and experimented on and everything.”

“Oh, my God, that’s awful!” Ellie said, briefly clutching his brawny arm. “Why would they do those things to you?”

“They’re called the Order. They consider immortals miscreats—miscreations. Abominations and all. They plan to exterminate every last one of us.”

“How did you get taken?”

“It’s the damnedest thing. I’d just gone to pick up a girl to take to the movies, worried about nothing more than Eagle Scouts, my curfew—and maybe stealing a kiss from my date.” He winked at Ellie, and she felt like fanning herself. “Next thing I know, I’m waking up in a holding tank with all these creatures. That’s when I flipped out.”

“It must have been terrifying.”

“Well, it wasn’t a June picnic, that’s for sure. And the cell! You can’t imagine what it’s like to be caged for days on end.”

Can’t I? Your friend put me in the big house for five years.

Rubber band snap. Snap!

“I only got one torture session, not too bad, but Mr. Lothaire? They

burned him until his skin charred away and you could see his bones.

They starved him. He just laughed, messing with the humans’ minds and all.”

Ellie could easily imagine him doing that.

“When all the prisoners broke loose, he saved my life, repeatedly. And all the while, he was desperate to get off the island. We figured he had someone to get back to. Didn’t know it was you!” Clearly recollecting some memory, Thad said, “Mr. Lothaire sure is wild for you.”

Not for me.

“So, what do you do, Ellie?” he asked.

Well, previously, I held a position on death row, but lately I’ve been a vampire’s plaything. Soon I’ll be sacrificed so the Soul Reaper and the Enemy of Old can make babies.

“What do I do?” Ellie caught Hag’s look of warning. In a feigned bubbly tone, she said, “Hey, you want a drink, Thad? I could use a drink. I’ve gotta show you this chest. . . .”



Three hours later, Ellie slurred to the chest, “Hos-say Kvervo tee-killer, please.”

Somehow she, Thad, and Hag had already finished two buckets of Coronas.

Thad had told her he’d never tasted tequila. Ellie scarcely remembered it. One way to remedy that!

“Lime. Salt. Another bucket of Coronas. And chips, thanks.”

When Ellie dragged her score out to the deck, she found Thad buzzedly tightening a shutter hinge with a multipurpose pocket tool. So the Eagle Scout.