Lothaire (Immortals After Dark #12)(96)

So much for his imaginings. Hag completing the potion, me administering it, Elizabeth’s stubborn gray gaze coming into focus, her arms wrapping around me in gratitude. . . .

Ash vines clutched in his shaking fist, Lothaire rendered himself invisible, half-tracing to the opened patio doors to find Elizabeth, Hag, and Thaddeus doing tequila shooters on the deck.

Relief washed over him as he surveyed the scene. Elizabeth was awake, her eyes bright. She wore cutoffs and a bathing suit top; since Thaddeus wasn’t ogling her body, Thaddeus got to live.

Elizabeth was safe, the boy was being a gentleman with her, and Lothaire could tell that Hag had changed the boundary code since he’d left. All was well.

Still, he was furious with the three of them. Though Lothaire didn’t know for what. He just knew that his oracle, his woman, his . . . friend did not need to be drinking and laughing together without him around.

Lothaire’s eyes narrowed. This felt vaguely like . . . mutiny, but he couldn’t precisely say why.

He listened to them talking between shots. Thaddeus was telling tales about him? “Lothaire’s the funniest guy you’ll ever meet,” he said.

“Yeah, right,” Elizabeth scoffed. “I can process that as well I did the Cerunnos.”

“I’m serious! In the middle of our escape, all the world was going to hell—fights everywhere, explosions going on left and right with bloodcurdling screams. And Lothaire shows up out of nowhere just as calm as he can be. The last we’d seen him, he’d been fighting this huge vampire gang. One of our group asked him how he could possibly have survived that battle. In this deadpan voice, he says three words: ‘I’m that

good.’ ”

As the females laughed, Lothaire leaned his shoulder against the doorway, still unseen, casting his mind back to that exchange. He remembered it because Thaddeus had shown him loyalty directly after.

The group had been about to take off in a plane with Declan Chase, bound for escape, but they hadn’t wanted to include Lothaire. Yet Thaddeus had demanded that he be allowed on.

Lothaire had declined, of course. Then he’d ordered winged demons to crash the plane—to bring Chase to him.

But Lothaire would never forget that Thaddeus had stood up for him—though the boy would have gained nothing from it.

One of the first instances of true loyalty Lothaire had experienced since his mother had died. . . .

“Tell more,” Elizabeth cried, swigging a beer chaser. The area around her lounge chair was covered with crushed snack chips, which made his lips curl. “More!”

“One night, we were taking a time-out in this creepy lab,” Thaddeus began. “Torture tools were hanging everywhere, but Lothaire was completely unfazed. He just climbed on top of this cage to go to sleep, telling the rest of us, ‘To anyone who contemplates even nearing me while I sleep: I will garrote you with your own viscera.’ I mean, who says shit like that?”

More laughter.

By that time, I’d drunk Chase’s blood, was already keen to get to the man’s memories.

The boy pounded a shooter. “And out on the trail, Lothaire told this burly berserker to watch himself, ‘else I’ll revisit my juvenile skull-f*cking phase.’ ”

Elizabeth snorted beer out of her nose, and Thaddeus threw back his head to laugh. Hag didn’t join them; she knew Lothaire had been serious.

Ah, my mischievous youth . . .

“And he’s crazy brave,” Thaddeus averred, exhibiting that unmistakable case of hero worship.

But Elizabeth is hanging on every word he says about me. A satisfying feeling.

“Now, that I can believe,” she said. “I know he killed a pack of Wendigos.”

Thaddeus waved that away. “That was early in the fight. After that, he took on an army of them, saving all our lives. And all the time he was trying to get back to you.”

Elizabeth’s smile faded. Lothaire could almost hear her thoughts: Not trying to get back to me.

“On the island, I was the one who suspected he had a lady,” Thaddeus continued. “When Lothaire got spacey, he’d murmur to me about his young Bride gazing up at him with fear, which, granted, is a little weird to hear—”

“I’ve returned,” Lothaire interrupted. They all jumped, heads whipping in his direction.

He hadn’t remembered telling Thaddeus those things. Young? Fear? Definitely not describing Saroya.

Have I always known deep down that Elizabeth is mine?

Her smile returned now. “Lothaire, you’re safe.”

As are you. After last night’s tears—and this morning’s terror—she was happy to see him unharmed? “Of course.” To Thaddeus, he said, “You’ve made yourself at home.”

The boy gazed down at his beer. “Thought I’d hang out, maybe give you a hand guarding your lady.”

“Did you revive Elizabeth?”

“Just helped her along some.”

Lothaire gave him a curt nod. “A word, Hag.” He traced inside, tossing the vines on the counter.

She followed. “You secured them.”

Barely. The guards had been as vicious as he’d expected. Somehow he’d breached their defenses to face Nereus. . . .

As the god handed over the vines with relief, he asked Lothaire about his new Bride, the one Loreans everywhere were speculating about. “Is she anyone I know?”