The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

‘Wuss’?” Kyle echoed.
    “American slang for ‘wimp’,” Katrina clarified. “Coward, loser, chicken—”
    “All right, I understand,” Kyle said wryly. “I won’t go ‘poof. And the correct term is ‘shift’, not ‘poof.”
    “Whatever,” Katrina said, smiling up at him. She removed the gentle, restraining hand on his arm and sat back in her seat. “You’re really tall. I thought Nik was tall, but you have him beat. But you’re not big. Nik has muscles—”
    “Please tell me I’m not being subjected to this to fulfil some strange comparison fantasy of yours,” Kyle cut her off as he returned to the chair he’d been occupying. He reached for his glass. “Is Nikolai lacking in some way?”
    Katrina shook her head.
    “You’re alone, and I know how lonely it gets,” she said. “I mean, it’s been less than a year for me, being . . . not like everyone else. Most days I’m OK with it, especially if Nik is around, but sometimes being ‘alone’ gets to me, even if I am something of a queen.”
    “I wouldn’t downplay the importance of your role here, Katrina. You’d hurt Nikolai’s feelings, not to mention those of the others,” he said gently. “You’re not ‘something of a queen’. You are the queen of Clan Destrati, wife of Sovereign Nikolai Peityr. It pleases me to see that he hasn’t gone the way of Dominic by having you sit as his right hand on the Council.”
    Katrina lowered her eyes and shook her head. “I thought everyone should get used to me being around before I try to change the way they govern themselves. But Nikolai is gone so often, attending things like that, and I can’t help but feel lost and alone.”
    She looked back up at Kyle and shrugged a little, chagrined. “Though I’m sure that sounds pathetic, coming from me, considering how long . . . How long have you been alone?”
    “I do not wish to have this discussion,” Kyle said as he poured himself another glass of what Nikolai had informed him was goat’s blood obtained from a local butcher. It certainly had the taste of livestock to it, and was unlike the cattle blood he was accustomed to.
    It would not sustain him at all. Unlike the others of his supposed ilk, he needed human blood to maintain his form and powers. “To live off those he betrayed his Master for.” That was the curse. Ironic and fitting.
    Kyle often found a great deal of humour in irony.
    “Kyle.”
    Katrina’s voice recalled his attention.
    “Yes? I’m sorry, my lady. I beg your forgiveness. My mind was elsewhere for a moment.”
    Katrina smiled. “I know,” she said. “I asked you if there was anything else I could get for you, to make you more comfortable. You seem a little troubled.”
    “No, thank you, my lady,” Kyle said, regaining his composure. “I should go. It has been a pleasant evening, and I thank you for your company and hospitality.”
    “Please, stay until Nikolai returns,” she asked, putting her hand on his arm again. “He shouldn’t be much longer. Keep me company.”
    Kyle looked uncomfortable, but nodded. He was losing himself in thoughts of her again. Why? Was it because no one had touched him as familiarly as Katrina had tonight since—? And Katrina had asked who “she” was. It was rude to ignore a question, though it was also rude to ask inappropriate ones. Katrina’s question hadn’t been entirely improper, just . . . one he’d never thought anyone would ask.
    Four hundred years in the mortal plane and he still hadn’t managed to rid himself of the compulsion to answer direct questions asked of him. He tried to reason with himself, telling himself he didn’t have to reply to her, that curiosity was natural to humans. She was only being polite. He rationalized for a long moment, but he knew if he didn’t answer her, the question would weigh on him until he did.
    “Do you know what today is?” he asked softly.
    “It’s Thursday, the nineteenth,” Katrina replied, confused. “Why?”
    The nineteenth of March. Kyle’s heart lurched in his chest as he remembered carefully choosing the rose he’d delivered that evening. It had to be perfect. Nothing less would do. When he’d found the perfect one, he’d used his power to make it as flawless as she had been. He could have used his power to manifest one in its entirety, but then it wouldn’t be of this realm and would fade with the morning light. She deserved more.
    “ La festa di San Giuseppe,” Kyle murmured. “The feast