When they reached the highest floor in a castle spire, a large room spread out before them. Atop a plush rug, sofas made an L shape, and fires in two hearths burned. One entire wall opened to the night.
Ellie waved at the opening. “That’s the great thing about a kingdom with no rain.” She sauntered behind a bar. “What can I get you to drink?”
“I don’t know a lot about royalty, but I’m fairly certain you shouldn’t be getting me anything.”
Ellie laughed. “Leo wants me to have servants tracing about at my beck and call, but ‘indolent rich’ is not my scene.” Her scene? “I grew up poor as dirt, and I like doing for myself. So, I’m having a blood margarita, which is probably not your scene. What’s your drink?”
Anything but blood. Ren imagined consuming it to live and grew queasy. “Do you have brandy?”
“Yep. Cop a squat.” At Ren’s confused look, Ellie pointed to the sofas. “Get comfy. Comfortable.”
Ren had to step around what looked like toys. “You have children?”
“Hoo! I’m not even eating food of the earth yet.”
“Pardon?”
“Oh, vampire females have to eat food to be fertile. Leo and I are holding off on kids until the Accession passes. Those are my little brother’s toys. He comes over to visit all the time. Leo spoils that boy so bad,” she said with a smile. “What about you? Got any plans for kids?”
“None at present.” She’d never felt a bone-deep craving for children—not until she’d feared she couldn’t have them as a replica. Or maybe she craved Munro’s children.
Each night that he and Ren had camped in the forest, he’d shown her photographs on his phone—some of his twin, who looked like a defeated version of Munro, and many of his wards, Rónan and Benneit.
But a random picture had struck Ren intensely: one of a packmate’s toddler perched upon Munro’s shoulders. The adorable little girl, with her dark hair and golden eyes, could’ve been his daughter. . . .
“You called children pups,” Ren said, “so I pictured something more wolven.”
“The beast is all but latent for the first several years of life. Pups look like wee humans. But they’re much stronger, o’ course. Better senses too.” He grinned fondly at the picture. “I love bairns. How they think. How they feel everything so passionately. They are a reminder for older immortals to view life with a fresh eye.”
Gazing at that smile of his, all of a sudden Ren understood exactly what a biological clock was. But to have children, she would need not to be a virgin. . . .
When Ren sat, Ellie traced over to hand her a glass, then took the couch across from her with her own drink: something that looked like watery blood. Her glass was oddly shaped, the rim coated in white crystals.
Ellie said, “The salt brings the tequila and blood together in a surprising way.”
If you say so. Ren sipped her delicious brandy and remarked, “The king can hardly take his eyes off you.”
“He’s whupped. But so am I.” Whupped must mean in love. “Munro’s eyes were locked on you too. Good gawd, he’s a long, tall drink of wolfy water.”
Possessiveness simmered in Ren. He’d looked amazing in his formal dress, and she’d been proud to be on his arm.
Ellie leaned forward and said, “By the way, I’m so sorry Leo sicced fire demons on your asses.”
“No hard feelings. At one time, I’d planned to assassinate him.”
Ellie nodded without surprise. “He gets that a lot.” They shared a grin, any potential awkwardness out of the way. “So, what was your life like in Transylvania a hundred years ago?”
“Busy but fulfilling. I performed in the circus during the days and hunted immortals each night.”
“It must’ve been hard to learn about your, uh, death.”
“It was.” Lothaire’s revelation had rocked her. “But I needed to find out what had happened.” She only wished that her loved ones had known she’d gotten a chance to live on. Would they believe she was now sitting in Dacia, sharing drinks with a vampire queen? “Considering my hunting past, I hadn’t thought to find such a welcome here.”
“Girl, immortals have given me so much shit, I get where you were coming from. I was possessed by an evil deity, and if some carnies saved me from her, I would’ve sung their praises. And then when Leo kidnapped me? I would’ve given anything for some circus folk to put the hurt on him. He was a huge dick.”
“He was a big private detective?” Ren couldn’t imagine Lothaire as one.
“Oh, no. Dick is a way of saying someone is a jerk. You know, a pecker. That vamp gave me so much grief, I ended up loppin’ off his head.”
Ren blinked. “Loppin’ off?”
“I cut off his head. Well, almost. And I didn’t mean to. I ended up leaving a sliver of skin, so he regenerated. I’m glad he did. I love my guy so hard—my arrogant, crazy, red-eyed guy. He churns my butter for sure. But I can understand anger against immortals.”