Immortals After Dark 12 - Lothaire

no one else had.
    “This ‘endgame’ is your end goal ?” she asked. “Okay, then what is it?”
    His gaze drifted as he paced. “Seven little tasks.”
    “Tell me.”
    Sounding as if he recited a list, he said, “Find ring. Dispose of Elizabeth’s soul. Turn Saroya. Kill Dorada. Take over Horde. Find and kill Serghei. Conquer Daci.”
    Dispose of my soul. How easily he said that! And who was Serghei? “Vampire, I hate to tell you this, but those tasks are not an end goal.”
    He swung around to face her. “Hold your tongue, little mortal! Or I’ll have it from you.”
    She fell silent, on edge as he paced/traced.
    Long moments later, he snapped, “What the hell were you talking about?”
    “An ultimate goal should be the result, not the process of reaching it.”
    “Perhaps I take pleasure in the process itself.”
    Ellie said, “Then the ultimate goal is pleasure. The tasks are still the process.”
    “My ultimate goal is service to a blood vendetta. I work for that alone, have for millennia.”
    In a small voice, she pointed out, “Still a process.”
    “Ahhh!” he roared, punching the wall yet again. “Shut the fuck up!”
    In as casual a tone as she could fake, she said, “Most people have goals of a fulfilling family life and a rewarding career, with happiness and pleasure resulting.”
    “And what do you know of happiness?” He calmed, seeming intensely interested in this subject.
    “I experienced it for most of my life. And I appreciate it all the more after my recent miseries.”
    “How could you have been happy in that trailer, forced to hunt for food, having so few possessions?”
    She blinked. He wasn’t insulting her? Lothaire was genuinely curiousabout this. “I cherished the good times spent with those I love, and I quickly worked past the bad times. What’s done is done. I never dwell on the past.”
    “That’s simplistic.”
    “It’s not a complicated thing,” she countered.
    “It’s an abstract one.”
    “And yet it can be learned. You can teach yourself to be happy. You said your killing skills were well-honed. What if you put all that effort into finding happiness?”
    “Then I wouldn’t have survived all these years.”
    “Maybe you can find it sharing interests with Saroya.”
    “Leave her out of this.”
    “She’s kind of instrumental. What does she enjoy doing?”
    He narrowed his eyes. “Saroya hunts, just as you used to do.”
    “She does not hunt like I did.” The idea made her want to punch a wall! “Did you see me leaving deer carcasses all over the mountain to rot? For no reason? There is no comparison. I would never be wasteful and disrespectful of life like that.”
    “Touchy subject? Have I found a chink in your armor?”
    “Any comparison to her riles me up. We are nothing alike.”
    “True, you are—”
    “Oh, just save it,” she interrupted. “I already know I’m her inferior in every way, blah, blah, blah.”
    He quirked a brow, then continued, “As for sharing interests, Saroya and I will rule together, protecting and educating our offspring.”
    My offspring! “I can only imagine what a goddess of death would teach her kids.”
    “You won’t sow dissension. Your ploy is transparent.”
    “It’s only a ploy if I’m being dishonest. Otherwise, it’s an observation. And I truly do wonder about Saroya’s parenting skills, not to mention yours .”
    He frowned, his demeanor turning contemplative.
    “Lothaire, have you never thought what it’d be like to be a father?”
    “It would be a risk—although few would dare harm Saroya’s offspring. Certainly no vampire enemies of mine would. . . .” He crossed to the balcony and gazed out. As a breeze sifted through his hair, his shoulders tensed. “A mist rises,” he said in an odd tone.
    She was getting nowhere with him. “Am I done entertaining you, vampire? I’m tired. This inferior mortal needs to rest.”
    He turned back to her. “You’ll sleep in here.” At her disbelieving look, he said, “I don’t exaggerate the threat to you. I’d hoped to have separate rooms—not because I wished to afford you privacy, but because I didn’t want to look at you. Unfortunately, we do not have that luxury.”
    “Fine.” She rose, retrieved a pillow and a blanket from her room, then returned to the settee.
    “Do not touch me when I sleep,” Lothaire said. “Do not get near me.” When he held her gaze, she suddenly recalled the haunting bellows echoing from his room