On the Prowl

verbatim. Words that had clearly been seared into his memory. And it hadn’t even really been his fault. At the time, Gryphon, my lover, had been trying to throw me into Dontaine’s bed so that I might acquire his rare Half Form ability. Another oddity of mine. When Monère men mated with a Queen, they usually gained some of her power, and if lucky, some of her gifts. It worked that way with me, too, but went the other way as well. I tended to gain some of the men’s power and gifts, as well. I was like a sexual vampire sucking up gifts instead of blood.
    “Forgive me,” Dontaine said, seeing the expression on my face. “I did not wish to bring up painful memories for you, though I obviously did so in my clumsy attempt at explanation. What I am trying to say is that I come from a line that has proven fertile. Not just my sister and I. My mother Margaret had two brothers, and her father had a sibling as well. If you desire a child…” He stopped speaking and looked at me, his eyes pained by my rejection in the past, yet generous enough to offer this when he’d seen my need.
    “Dontaine—”
    “Please, before you rebuff me yet again, let me explain that what you feel will only grow stronger with time.”
    My eyes widened upon hearing this. “What do you mean?”
    “Your yearning for a child. It comes to all Monère women of child-bearing age. An inbred instinct, a need that will grow even stronger with each passing year.”
    “Oh. I’d thought it simply part of my grief for Gryphon, not an in-built species propagation thing. Though I shouldn’t be so surprised by it.” Lots of other in-built goodies to ensure that our people spread wide and proliferated. It had worked, up to a point.
    “I can give you a child,” he said.
    I looked at him, this extraordinarily proud and handsome man, humbling himself to offer me this tempting gift. But I could not take it. And he saw that answer on my face even before I spoke.
    “Thank you,” I said, my voice soft, husky. “It is a most generous offer, but—”
    “But you still have another lover, Lord Amber.”
    “And Halcyon,” I whispered.
    “Ah, the Demon Prince, too.” He was quiet for a moment, obviously searching his memory for when Halcyon and I could have come together. “When you helped him return to his realm,” he finally said.
    Actually, it had been right after we’d rescued him from Queen Louisa, the former ruler of this land. She’d been a little pissed at having to give up her territory to me. But I didn’t bother to correct Dontaine’s assumption. No need to get into the details of when and how it had happened. Just that it had.
    “I understand, my Queen.” He smiled ruefully. “You are young, the need for a child is not yet that strong, and your bed is not as empty as I thought.” The light smile he’d forced upon his face dropped away. “But my offer will stand open to you…”
    Indefinitely . For as long as I must wait, were the words he did not say. And that scared me. That offer, that yearning for me. I didn’t want it or desire it. Too many men had been willing to wait for me—first Amber, then my Demon Prince—and still I did not know why. Why they desired me, a woman common in looks, less than average in build, and of mixed mongrel blood. Life was too short to have to wait for such a tenuous possibility, even among the long-lived Monère, whose lives could stretch three centuries long. But just because you could live that long, didn’t mean you did. Look at Gryphon.
    “Don’t wait for me,” I told Dontaine, looking up into that handsome patrician face. “You can have any woman you want. Go to them. Be with them instead.”
    His eyes lowered and he bowed and stepped back, face impassive, body held stiffly with sudden tension. As if I’d struck him a literal blow. “As my Queen commands,” he said, his voice as blank as his face, both carefully wiped clean of all expression.
    He turned to leave, and I had a horrible feeling that something was amiss. I almost let him leave. But my instincts were crying out that something was wrong, that his reaction was too strong just to be from my rebuff alone.
    “Dontaine, wait please,” I said, reluctantly prolonging the agony for both of us. “You said ‘As my Queen commands.’ You meant that as a formality, right?”
    “I am not certain what you are asking, milady.”
    I struggled for the proper words. “You used that as a polite phrase, like the English would say,