“Ah, yes.” Leaning forward, he nipped her bottom lip. “I’m not asking.”
“I’ll consider it.” She settled her hands over his shoulders. “Do I taste different? I mean, since we’ve mated?”
He huffed out a chuckle. “Forever the scientist, huh?” His thumb rubbed against the twin puncture wounds in her neck and she fought a sigh. “No. You taste just as wonderful as before I marked you—like passion fruit and vintage wine. Maybe a Shiraz.”
The king had the heart of a poet. “So, are we still at war?”
“No. I’d say we’ve reached an uneasy alliance here.”
She smoothed his dark hair back from his rugged face. “Until I roll over and drop all my problems in your lap to solve?”
His jaw relaxed. “Exactly.”
Not in a million years. Love or not. The king had borne the weight of ruling by himself for centuries and she couldn’t allow it to continue. She shook her head, her thighs tightening against his hard hips. “You said you were at war on three fronts. Besides the Kurjans, who’s gunning for us?”
With their connection she could feel his heart fill from her use of the word us. He smiled. “The demon nation declared war on us earlier today.”
Shock rumbled through her. “Demon nation? Demons exist?”
“Sure.”
“Are they minions from hell?”
Dage threw back his head and laughed. “Well, right now don’t ask me that question.” He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth. “Though, no. Demons are yet another species trying to survive on earth.”
It couldn’t be good to have demons mad at you. What kind of powers would a demon have? “Why are they mad at us?”
“Caleb has been at war with the demon nation for quite some time.”
She knew the massive rebel would be trouble. Maybe she should warn Lily. “Oh. He became our friend and thus his enemies became our enemies?”
Dage nodded in approval. “Simply put, but yes. For now.”
“Can you fix it?” She began to trail her fingers across his chest and down those amazing abs.
He stilled. “We’ll see.”
“Dage?”
“Yes, love?”
“You’re still inside me.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“So do something.”
His cock jumped inside her. “I thought you’d never ask.”
A couple of hours later Emma ran her foot down Dage’s leg, her entire body loose and relaxed in the big bed.
“Knock it off. Unless of course, you’d like to go for round three.” His low rumble pulsed around her.
She stifled a giggle. “Round five. I believe it would be round five.”
He tucked her further into his warmth. “Go to sleep. You have a virus to demolish tomorrow and I have a demon nation to appease.”
“If we both finish before lunch maybe we could go out.” She grinned, wrapping her hands around the arm banded at her waist. Even his forearm was lined with muscle and strength.
“Funny.” His breath brushed her hair.
Questions clicked through her in slow motion. “Do you ever go out? I mean, when you’re not at war?”
He nipped her ear. “Sure. There’s an Italian restaurant in Boulder I’d love to take you to. Sometime.”
“What about jobs? I mean, have you guys had jobs through the years?”
His arm tugged her closer into his heat. “Being the king is mainly a full-time job. In peace and war.” He sighed, his body relaxing behind her. “Talen has plotted strategy for centuries and Conn has trained our soldiers full-time. Though Kane has attended many schools to study science, biology, genetics ...”
“Probably a good idea.” She’d love to open up Kane’s brain and suck all the knowledge into her own. “What about Jase?”
“Ah, the youngest brother. He’s mastered all of the above.”
“No kidding.” He seemed so carefree and happy, though the sense of danger clung to him like a well-fitting jacket. She’d figured that was part of being a vampire. A predator.
“Yes. When he wasn’t skydiving, working as an oceanographer, giving flying lessons ...”
She fought a laugh. “So Jase has quite the résumé, huh?” Talk about a vampire of all trades.
“Yes. He wanted to be a race car driver for a while, but I had to veto that idea.” Dage’s voice rumbled with sleepiness.
“You didn’t want Jase getting hurt?”
A masculine snort stirred her hair. “No. I figured he’d win and get his picture in the paper. We can’t afford that.”
“Oh.” Jase probably would’ve wiped the track clean.
Dage yawned. “I forgot to ask. Does Kane’s blood show any sign of the virus?”
“No.” Her mind began to swim in lazy circles. “But if it shows up, we may have found the path to an antidote. Assuming he doesn’t contract an illness.” She yawned. “That was brave of him to ingest the virus for Cara.”
Dage shrugged, his chest knocking against her head. “He’s a good man. You do what you have to for family.”
Hurt caught the breath in Emma’s chest for a moment. For family. She hunkered down and began to count test tubes until sliding into an uneasy, dream-filled sleep.
Damn. She hated this dream
Fall had given up the fight to winter and its murky fog descended low. Eighteen years old, she sat on the chipped front steps of her home. The dirt road potted with holes stretched out before her. The trees spread naked limbs through the chilled air, allowing themselves to be swallowed by mist while dots of frost littered the brittle brush.
She shivered, the scent of nature’s demise skittering across her skin. It was the saddest part of the day—dusk. The day ended and night had yet to provide the protection of darkness.
Yet she waited on the porch.
Cara hummed a quiet tune inside the house, working on a school project. Mama had gone to the library and Daddy ... Well, Daddy was likely dead.
A low rumble echoed from down the road and soon the sheriff’s battered squad car emerged from the murk. He’d left the lights off this time. No one was screaming or getting hit, so why hurry?
He rolled to a stop and stepped out of the vehicle, hitching his pants up over his big belly. “Hi Emma.” A pronounced limp impeded his way as he moved toward her until Old Spice tickled her nose.
“Hi Sheriff.” She stood to her feet, wiping her hands on ripped jeans. She needed to look surprised when he gave the news. “What are you doing here?”
His faded blue eyes softened. “I have bad news, sweetheart.” The soft jowls in his neck jiggled as he spoke.
She nodded, sorry the sheriff had to feel anything for her father. The cop was a nice old man, one who’d tried to help more than once. “What is it?” He needed to tell her the bad news. Then she, Mama, and Cara could move on.
“There was a car accident. Your father’s truck went over the embankment by Shilly’s Hill.”
Yep. She’d seen him crash to the bottom in a fiery explosion. Handy curse these visions. “Was he drunk?”
The sheriff widened his eyes for a moment and slowly nodded. “He left the tavern an hour or so before the wreck.” Rubbing a hand across his thick white beard, the sheriff sighed. “You’re eighteen, so there should be no problem for you to keep your sister with you.”
Emma had celebrated her birthday a few weeks back. “Well, sure.” A warning tingle set up at the base of her skull. “Mama should be home soon. I’ll ask her to call you.”
The sheriff paled. He extended his hand, then dropped it back down to his side, empty and useless. “Oh Emma. I thought you knew. They were together. Your mother was in the truck, too.”
A decade later Emma’s strangled cry had her sitting straight up in the bed.
Warmth instantly wrapped around her and she found herself cradled against a hard chest. “Oh, love. I’m so sorry.”