Immortals After Dark 09 - Pleasure of a Dark Prince

“I
left
because I have things to do around the Accession.”
    “What things?”
    “
Private
things!”
    “So many bluidy secrets. Has anyone ever told you that you’re a high-maintenance mate? By the gods you’re a complicated woman! The first night I saw you I wished for a female who would give me a challenge. Now I wish I could take it back.” After digging his sat-phone from his bag, he stormed for the door, snatching up the bowcase on the way out.
    Out on the deck, the rain was a cool mist. Garreth raised his face to it, struggling for calm. Once he’d gotten the worst of his ire under control, he called his brother. “Lachlain, I have her.”
    “That’s excellent! Are you being patient with her?”
    Hesitation, then he admitted, “Nay, no’ exactly, but I’m trying to be.”
    “Watch yourself, brother. I will never forgive myself for the things I did to Emma.” Lachlain’s voice was rough with regret. “Doona make the same mistake. And no’ like Bowen either. Learn from our misjudgment.”
    Their first cousin Bowen had treated his mate, Mariketa the Awaited, even worse than Lachlain had Emma. Before Bowen had accepted that Mariketa was his, he’d almost killed her.
    “Is the Valkyrie bristling that you’ve caught her?”
    “Oh, aye,” Garreth said, relating all that Lucia had just told him, from the apocalypse to the vows, finishing with, “I want to throttle her.”
    “You’re no’ really letting her go with you to stop this apocalypse?”
    “Bluidy hell, no. Just letting her think that until I can get more information out of her.”
    “Good then,” Lachlain said. “For now, you can start fresh with the Valkyrie. You have the opportunity to no’ fuck up with her. Find the patience.”
    Patience?
Before Garreth could correct him, Lachlain said, “Take the edge off by yourself if you have to.” He added in a mutter, “Gods know I did.”
    Garreth heard Emma sleepily say, “Lachlain, comeback to bed. It’s late.” Two in the afternoon in Scotland was late for a vampire.
    “I’ll be there in a second, love.”
    Garreth felt a moment of envy, then grew shamed. After Lachlain’s torture and imprisonment at the hands of the Horde, he above all men deserved the solace his pale-haired bride had been giving him over the last year. “Go to your queen, brother.”
    “Call me tomorrow,” Lachlain said. “We have much more to discuss. Remember—she’ll come around if you treat her well and respect her beliefs.”
    Her beliefs.
Little hypocrite.
Garreth loathed vows like hers, thought them ridiculous. Lykae revered food, touch, sex. She didn’t eat, wouldn’t have sex, but by the gods, he’d set to touching her. Tonight. Aye, he would—
    “Remember, Garreth, you only get one female.
Ever
.”
    After he hung up with Garreth, Lachlain returned to bed, quietly easing in beside Emma.
    But she was still awake. “Was that Garreth?”
    “Aye.” He pulled her into his arms, inhaling her sweet scent. “He’s found the Archer.”
    “How’s she taking it?” She briefly peeked up, reading his expression. “That good, huh?”
    “It’s hard when one’s mate is
other
. Think of what we went through. And Bowen and Mariketa?”
    Bowen had probably had it hardest of any of them. He’d believed his mate was dead, had mourned her loss for well over a century. Then, just this year, he’d met Mariketa the Awaited, a witch. When he’d begun to fall hopelessly for her, he’d hated himself for his unfaithfulness,hated
her
for tempting him, accusing her of casting a spell over him. Bowen had found out nearly too late that things… weren’t always as they seemed with Mariketa.
    Emma asked, “Do you think it will work out for Aunt Luce and Garreth?”
    “I do know this—my brother is nigh head over heels for your aunt.”
    He could feel her grinning against his chest. “If he’s anything like you, then my aunt is going to be head over heels for your brother.”
    “Let’s hope. Garreth has long needed a good woman in his life. Now,
aingeal
”—he curled his forefinger under her chin, lifting her face—“did you happen to wake thirsty?”

TWENTY-SIX

    Though exhaustion weighed on Lucia, she had no hope for sleep.
    A storm was boiling outside, and as the boat slogged through the night, the bow collided with log after log, keeping her on edge. Now she understood why the fore cabin wasn’t preferred.
    Long after MacRieve had left, she stared at the door, imagining what would