Hot Blooded

human to tell the truth." Bastien's tone was a mix of
incredulity and awe.
    "Well… yes, but I mentioned the part about confessing to stealing recipes
first. She didn't know she'd nearly killed you, by the way," he said to Mariann,
the twinkle bright in his eyes. "She thought the worst she'd done is knock you
out. Eaten up with envy, if you're interested. Evidently, her subconscious
considers you to be indestructible."
    "Well," Mariann said at this irony, her hand spread across her chest. Because
Arabella had been so hell-bent on protecting her lie, Mariann practically was
indestructible now.
    The commercials over, the show was everything she could have hoped in her
wildest dreams of revenge. Not only did Arabella confess to taking credit for
Daniel O'Faolain's work, she also felt compelled to share her not very
flattering opinions of her producers, her assistant, and her goggle-eyed
audience. When she began to describe her fiance's unfortunate shortcomings in
bed, the station developed mysterious technical difficulties and went to black.
When it returned, a repeat of
Emeril
was shouting "Bam!"
    Emile quickly switched it off.
    "Wow," said Mariann, "I almost feel sorry for her. She'll have a heck of a
time digging out from this."
    "Not to worry," Emile dismissed breezily. "I am not the strongest spinner of
thralls. The effect should wear off within a month."
    "A month!" Mariann couldn't help it. She covered her mouth and laughed.
"Thank you, Emile. That's the second-nicest present I ever got."
    "I have your book, too, if you want it." He flashed his teeth at her gasp of
delight. "You may kiss me, if you like. Here, on the cheek."
    She felt Bastien relax when Emile specified the spot, but a kiss was not
enough for her. She hugged his friend as well, with all her rib-cracking
upyr
strength. As she did, a peculiarly vivid image flashed through her
mind, of herself handing the recipe journal to Heather. The idea made her
happier than she would have thought.
    Maybe it was time to share her legacy.
    "Oof," Emile complained laughingly. "And welcome, sweet Mariann, to Bastien's
pack."
    "My unofficial pack," Bastien corrected.
    "That's what you think, old friend. Ulric—our previous pack leader—and I had
a little talk before we left Scotland. Then Ulric had a little talk with the
Council. You have been approved to act in your full elder capacity. They sent
word by e-mail last night."
    Bastien looked completely stunned. "You did that? For me?"
    "Of course I did. You think I want someone else bossing me around?"
    Bastien rubbed the side of his head. "I'm an elder. Me. I'm approved to run
my own pack."
    "You could have run one at any time," Emile pointed out, "with or without
their approval. You only needed to trust yourself. Then again, maybe you settled
that when you decided to change Mariann."
    "Surely you didn't tell them I did that."
    Emile reassured him with a shake of his head. "I'm not crazy. Better the
Council think they had the power to say 'yea' or 'nay.' You were born today," he
added to Mariann, "in case anybody asks."
    "Is it just me," Mariann asked, "or is our pack really small?"
    Bastien laughed and kissed her noisily on the mouth. "What an ambitious
upyr
you are. Already thinking like my queen."
    "Wait a second," she protested. "I didn't say I wanted to be anybody's—"
    He picked her up and kissed her more soundly. Even with Emile watching, even
with the sun high in the sky, her insides began to melt. By the time he'd
released her, her legs were firmly wrapped around his waist and the blanket had
drooped dangerously. She suspected more than daylight had made her dizzy.
    For one thing, his excitement was prodding her pointedly. He hitched her
higher to improve the fit.
    "I love to work," she warned, gasping just a bit. "My ex didn't like that at
all."
    "You'll get your work done faster than you ever did," he countered. "And I
fully expect to provide you with good incentives for coming home."
    The gleam in his eye made the hottest part of her squirm.
    "All right," she surrendered. "I'll be your queen, but only if you dig that
tunnel and make a room for my cat."
    Bastien's grin was as broad as his friend's. "You'll be my queen because you
almost love me, because you're nearly positive you will soon."
    "You're a bully," she said, but she could see he didn't believe her. His arms
tightened teasingly beneath her rump.
    "I'm the man who will love you till the