"You know, I never see what I truly don't want to see."

"Like the death of a Valkyrie." Nïx had never been able to. She could predict much about their charges, could often see the Valkyrie's upcoming injuries, but never to the point of death. To Cara's great despair, Nïx couldn't see Furie's fate.

"Yes. It's likely that you will never see these things because your mind knows you might not recover from it."

Chapter 20

"I hope. Why do you think this is happening?"

"Why do you?"

"I, uh, well, the thing is that...I drank directly from him," she finally confessed. "I fear it's related to that."

"Emma, I've heard that all vampires can take memories from the blood, but only some can interpret them and see them. Looks like you just found a new talent."

"Great. Why couldn't I be good at underwater origami or something?"

"Have you told Lachlain?"

"Not just yet. But I will," Emma added in a rush. "It's not like I could not tell him, right?"

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"Right. Now, on to a much, much more important subject... Did you get the gold necklace you saw him buy?"

29

I think your queen misses her coven," Harmann remarked when Emma had been at Kinevane for her second week.

"Aye, I gathered as much," Lachlain said, glancing up from papers strewn all about his desk. Missing her family was a blight on her happiness, but one soon rectified. As would be her marked dread of meeting other Lykae. She'd told him she was "shooting one in three with Lykae" and "wouldn't take that to the track." They were arriving in just three days. "But what makes you say that?"

"She dragged a maid into her drawing room to play video games. Then they painted each other's toenails. Blue."

He leaned back. "How'd the girl react?"

"Scared at first, but growing more comfortable. They all are. She could actually win them over." With a proud smile, he confided, "She calls me Manny."

Lachlain grinned.

"She didn't even ask me to do impressions." Harmann frowned to himself, and muttered, "They always ask me to do impressions."

"Does she have everything she needs?" he asked, though he knew she was growing content. When happy, she'd sing softly, absently. Oftentimes, he heard her voice lilting up from the "lunarium," as she called it, while she tended her garden. He could almost wager she liked the jasmine better than the jewels.

"Oh, yes. She's, uh, quite the talented, efficient, and, dare I say, aggressive shopper."

Lachlain had noticed her purchases himself and suspected he stood a little taller now that she was filling their home with things she liked or needed, making it her own. He found it deeply satisfying to see it taking shape. Did he even pretend to know why she needed hundreds of bottles of nail polish? No, but he liked that when he kissed her wee toes, he never knew what color they'd be.

For his part, Lachlain was healing, feeling stronger every day. His leg was nearly back to normal and his power was returning. His own sense of contentment - even in light of everything that had happened - was shockingly strong. And it was all because of her.

The only blight on his happiness was the fact that he would soon leave her, which was unbearable in itself, but now she'd begun insisting on going with him. She'd told him that she would go and fight by his side and "not let all this considerable badassness go to waste," or she would return to her coven.

She refused to remain behind at Kinevane. He knew he could talk her from her ultimatum. Surely, she could be brought to see things logically. Yet every day as she got stronger, he was a bit less confident. If she remained resolved in this, his choices would be to give up his revenge or possibly lose her to her coven. Both were untenable, in his mind.

He and Harmann finished speaking of some other business details, and shortly after Harmann scuttled off again, Bowe rapped on the door.

"You know where the scotch is," Lachlain said.

Bowe had apparently just come from the kitchen and was licking his thumb of something sweet-smelling on his way to the bar. When he poured one for his host, Lachlain emphatically shook his head.

Bowe shrugged and lifted his own. "To creatures that are other."

"They do make life interesting." Lachlain realized Bowe was almost not in evident pain. "Are you relieved?"

"Aye. Spotted her tending her plants downstairs, and when I saw you'd claimed her, I was glad for you." After a swig, Bowe observed, "You marked her a bit...hard, did you no'?"

Lachlain scowled.

"By the way, do you know what 'heroin chic' is? She said I should be aware that it's so last year." When Lachlain shrugged, baffled, Bowe turned serious. "The elders want to know what happened to you. Have been pestering me."

"Aye, I understand. When they come here, I'll tell them everything. I need to anyway so we can begin this."

"You think it wise to leave her so soon?"

"No' you, too," he snapped.

"Just want it noted that leaving her behind is a risk I myself would no' take. And they've no' found Garreth anyway."

Lachlain ran a hand over his face. "I want you to go to New Orleans. Find out what the hell is going on."

"Have to check my schedule." At Lachlain's look, he said, "All right. Leaving in the morning. Now, would you like to view the latest in vampire intelligence?" He tossed a file on the desk. "Courtesy of Uilleam and Munro, who look forward to seeing you soon."

Uilleam and Munro were brothers and two of Lachlain's oldest friends. He'd been pleased to hear they were doing well, though both still had not found their mates. Probably a good thing for Munro, since ages ago a clan seer had once predicted he would have a harridan for himself.




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