“What’s the problem, Dalli? My cock’s hard enough.”
“Please. I’ve seen you get it up for a pus demon.”
He drew back and sat on the edge of her bed, head in his hands. “Lot on my mind.” He stood and began to pace, bare feet silent on the plush carpet of her nest.
She pulled her robe back on. “Will you please tell me what’s wrong?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Maybe on some level he’d suspected he wouldn’t be in the moment. Maybe he’d chosen Dalli because he needed a friend more than a fuck.
“Clearly it does matter.” Rays of sunlight stole inside from the carved-out window, catching her gray eyes. “Will you not confide in me?”
He shook his head. How could he possibly explain a creature like Josephine?
“I don’t ask where you go when you’re not here,” Dalli said. “I don’t ask what you’re doing with your life, or what plans you have for the future.” She knew he was a secrets master in a shadowy alliance, but he’d given her no other details.
“Which is why we’re still friends.”
As if he hadn’t spoken, she continued, “I’ve never asked those questions, because I could see for myself you weren’t utterly miserable with your life.”
He paused his pacing. “Why would I be?”
Dalli rose, heading to her wine service to pour them goblets. “Someone your age with no mate? No offspring? It wears on a soul.”
“Speaking from experience?” She was almost his age, the oldest nymph he’d ever met.
“We’re talking about you today. And how you are now completely, utterly miserable.”
He scowled. “I just want to get laid. It’s why I’m here.”
“Uh-huh. This has got to be over a female.”
“Why do you say that?”
She handed him a drink, then crossed to the settee with her own. “Give me some credit.” Taking a seat, she motioned for him to join her. “I’ve been in the desire game for a long, long while.”
He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “There is a girl. She’s got me tied up in knots.”
“I think you better bring the bottle over.”
Good thinking. He grabbed it and joined her, setting it on an amber side table. He sank down beside Dalli. “I’ve only known her for four days.” Out of the millions he’d lived. “In my lifespan, that’s a blink of an eye.” In Dalli’s too.
“Do you think this girl could be the one?”
Maybe? No. No! “I will never have a mate. I’ve expected no destined female for myself.”
“Because of your poison? I know how much you despise it.”
I hate it so godsdamned much. Yet for a while, his hatred had faded—because Josephine bloomed whenever she fed from him. She’d craved him. But he didn’t want to be dependent on a vampire just because she could tolerate his hated blood!
He didn’t want to want someone who loved another.
Even if Josephine chose Rune instead, what kind of future would they have? He would never be exclusive with her, couldn’t imagine spending the next several millennia in bed with one female.
Especially when his value to the Møriør depended on him sleeping with others.
He emptied his goblet and set it aside. Forget the vampire. “Let’s just do this.” He rubbed the heel of his palm over his cock until he was hard enough. “Does it matter to you if I’m engaged or not? I’ll make you purr. I always do.”
“Are you sure?”
I want inside Josephine. Inside the silken heat he’d pleasured with his tongue. I want to see her reaction when I enter her for the first time. “Hundred percent.”
Dalli pursed her lips. “You might as well start talking. Tell me her name. I want to know all about her.”
He exhaled with resignation. “Very well. Her name is Josephine.” He poured another healthy serving for them both.
“What is it about her?” Dalli asked, excitement in her demeanor. “Why is she different from all the others?”
How to put into words what he was feeling? “She’s a walking contradiction. She’s powerful, but young. She seems world-weary at times, but again, she’s so bloody young. She’s insanely secretive—and yet she’s outspoken to the point of being blunt.” He recalled her telling him, “You. I like. I like you so much.” How could she have been so believable in the throes?
“When you say young . . . ?”
He hesitated, then admitted, “Quarter of a century.”
Dalli coughed on her wine.
“I know. And, damn it all, Dalli, she’s a vampire.”
“How can that be? Female vampires are so rare.”
“I don’t know a lot”—anything—“about her. But she’s definitely a vampire.”
Dalli’s excitement faded. “Rune, I’m so sorry. No wonder you’re miserable.” She put her hand over his. “Maybe your Josephine could drink bagged blood or something like that. Not feeding from her partner would be a sacrifice, but I’m sure she’d want to try for you.”
Over the rim of his goblet, he said, “She drinks my black blood. Couldn’t crave it more.” His tone was smug.
“What? How is that possible?”
“She says it’s because she’s ‘wicked strong and all.’ ”