Immortals After Dark 12 - Lothaire

that’s for sure. And the cell! You can’t imagine what it’s like to be caged for days on end.”
    Can’t I? Your friend put me in the big house for five years.
    Rubber band snap. Snap!
    “I only got one torture session, not too bad, but Mr. Lothaire? They
burned him until his skin charred away and you could see his bones.
They starved him. He just laughed, messing with the humans’ minds and all.”
    Ellie could easily imagine him doing that.
    “When all the prisoners broke loose, he saved my life, repeatedly. And all the while, he was desperate to get off the island. We figured he had someone to get back to. Didn’t know it was you!” Clearly recollecting some memory, Thad said, “Mr. Lothaire sure is wild for you.”
    Not for me.
    “So, what do you do, Ellie?” he asked.
    Well, previously, I held a position on death row, but lately I’ve been a vampire’s plaything. Soon I’ll be sacrificed so the Soul Reaper and the Enemy of Old can make babies.
    “What do I do?” Ellie caught Hag’s look of warning. In a feigned bubbly tone, she said, “Hey, you want a drink, Thad? I could use a drink. I’ve gotta show you this chest. . . .”

    Three hours later, Ellie slurred to the chest, “Hos-say Kvervo tee-killer, please.”
    Somehow she, Thad, and Hag had already finished two buckets of Coronas.
    Thad had told her he’d never tasted tequila. Ellie scarcely remembered it. One way to remedy that!
    “Lime. Salt. Another bucket of Coronas. And chips, thanks.”
    When Ellie dragged her score out to the deck, she found Thad buzzedly tightening a shutter hinge with a multipurpose pocket tool. So the Eagle Scout.
    She and Hag were in bathing suits, and he’d removed his shirt. Though it was a cloudless day, Thad had no problem with the sun, and he had the tan to prove it. “Guess it’s my phantom half,” he’d explained with a shrug.
    Behind his back, Ellie mimicked a kitty-cat clawing him; Hag grinned into her beer.
    After popping open a round for the three of them, Ellie sank down on the lounge chair to watch sweat trickle along the rises and falls of Thad’s cut torso muscles.
    Am I feeling lust for him? Or just appreciating his amazing hotness?
    It occurred to her that he was exactly the type of boy she’d always imagined herself with. Good-natured, handsome, considerate.
    So why was she so attracted to a deadly, forbidding bloodsucker like Lothaire?
    Because of mental trauma and sexual desperation?
    Or because of his brilliant mind and seductive touch? That molten gaze . . .
    Maybe she should test out whether she truly desired Lothaire or if she simply needed a male—any male.
    Maybe test this with Thad? Countless Coronas said this was the best—plan— ever .
    When her timer went off, Hag wobbled to her feet, pointing to the sky. “Potion!” she said, like she might say, “Eureka!” Then she veered off to the kitchen.
    Alone with Thad, Ellie said, “Thank you so much for bringing me back this morning.” Taking yet another swig of liquid courage, she stood, crossing over to him. “You’re my hero.”
    Still concentrating on his chore, he drawled, “Anytime, darlin’.” She’d found out that he was a born-and-bred Texan. A long, tall, gorgeous drink of Texas . . .
    “You mind if I give you a hug in thanks?” Her voice had gone
throaty.
    He turned toward her with a frown, scrubbing his palm over his chin.
    Before he could say anything, she laced her hands around his neck, her nails sifting through the hair curling at his nape.
    God, he smells incredible. The muscles of his chest flexed against her breasts, his damp skin so hot she could feel it through her top. “Or how about a thank-you kiss ?” She stood on her toes.
    He blushed deeply. “Uh. You’re Mr. Lothaire’s female, which means you’re taken. Really taken. And as for me, I’m—”
    Ellie pressed her lips against his, tightening her embrace while he froze in shock.
    But his lips were firm, tasting of lime with a hint of salt. Nice. She kissed harder, and his lips finally parted on a breath.
    He smells, feels, and tastes wonderful.
    So where’s the lust ?
    Dang it! Now she could admit what she’d instinctively known. Without Lothaire, I’ll never feel such passion again.
    She was just about to break away when Hag walked out. “Dark gods! What is this, Elizabeth?” she cried. “You want this boy dead?”
    Thad and Ellie both stumbled back mumbling apologies to Hag, to each other.
    The fey pointed Ellie toward