“And he cannot get you pregnant as I can,” Dontaine said bitterly. Another harsh truth that I could not deny. Halcyon was demon dead. He could not bring forth life. Dontaine, on the other hand, was descended from a potent fertile line, rare among the Monère, and usually prized because of it. But not so with me. His potency, in my eyes, was a huge detriment. I could not risk becoming pregnant, infected as I was with demon darkness.
All of Dontaine’s strengths were detriments with me. First, the unusual Half Change state that he was capable of achieving, arresting his change halfway into his wolf form so he became that terrible, horrendous embodiment of human legend—werewolf. A gift usually prized for its rareness. I had shied from its ugliness—the part-man, part-animal hybrid. Monstrous, I’d called it. Not an ability I wanted to gain for myself. I could gain others’ gifts by having sex with them, and I could pass my gifts along to them in turn. That was how I had acquired Gryphon’s keenness of vision, and some of Amber’s great strength. In exchange, they had obtained from me the ability to withstand sunlight, to not burn beneath its hot rays.
Sex and Basking—a Queen’s ability to call down the renewing rays of the moon and share it with her people. That was what the Monère society was based upon. Or perhaps it was even simpler than that. Maybe it was just based on power: Warriors gaining it by Basking and having sex with Queens; Queens gaining it by sleeping with her men—a great many, varied number of them. One big fuck-fest of power and pleasure.
I’d rejected Dontaine once. And again a second time after he’d offered what he saw as the most valuable part of himself—his potency, his ability to give me a baby—when he’d found me grieving at the knowledge that there would be no living remembrance of Gryphon, that I wasn’t pregnant with his child as I had hoped. I’d hurt not only Dontaine’s heart, but even more unforgivably, I’d pricked his male pride. I saw it all there in his eyes, and didn’t know what to do about it. He was too angry to heed his words. Had in fact spilled out in a heated rush the very knowledge I’d knocked him unconscious to keep hidden—that he was aware of my demon infection, as he called it.
I shouldn’t have pulled my punch, worrying about my strength when I’d knocked him out. I should have hit him harder, kept him out of it longer. Maybe knock some more sense into him. He could scarce have any less of it.
I turned away from him to plead with Halcyon instead. “Don’t kill him.”
Menace still emanated from the Demon Prince. His words, though, were calm. “If he restrains himself, I will not. Mostly because you will need him.”
His words drew Dontaine’s attention as nothing else could have. “What do you mean?” Dontaine demanded roughly.
“Your Queen will need a source of blood near her at all times. Even when she learns to call wild creatures to her, fresh animal blood will not be so easy to keep at hand. She will need someone to drink from should her bloodlust stir. A little drink of blood to sate the hunger, and she gains much control over it. Would you be willing to let her feed from you?”
“Halcyon—”
My Demon Prince turned to look at me. “Hell-cat, what you have cannot be passed to him in that way. You cannot ‘infect’ him, as you fear.”
And what the Demon Prince offered to Dontaine was clearly a balm to the warrior’s wounded pride—to be needed by his Queen.
“She can have anything of me that she desires,” Dontaine said. And like that, his aggression began to fade. He sheathed his dagger…while I wanted to plunge it into him, so pissed off was I by how badly I’d bungled things with my new lover…and how easily Halcyon had fixed them. But he was the ruler of Hell, after all. Soothing one Monère warrior’s wounded pride had to be a piece of cake compared to handling a realm full of dangerous, bloodthirsty demons.
It was my first lesson in rulership. And I accepted it, bitter though it tasted in my mouth. “Thank you, Dontaine.”
My eyes flashed gratitude to Halcyon, or at least tried to, for restraining himself. For not slaughtering Dontaine. For handling the situation without bloodshed.
“I will leave you now,” Halcyon said. The barest brush of those sharp nails—a sweet and dangerous caress across my cheek—and he started to walk away.
“So soon?” Disappointment coated my voice as I followed after him. “You just got here,” I said almost plaintively.
He stopped, turned around. “Hell-cat,” he murmured, and I felt the mental brush of his power, invisible lips pressing against mine in a brief, phantom kiss. “I am being prudent. I expended a lot of energy. It would be wiser for me to go now and recover. I will tarry longer next time, I promise.”
I could not argue with him for being careful. The last time he had come here had ended disastrously for the both of us. “How will you get back to the portal?” I asked. The nearest one that I knew of was in New Orleans, almost an hour’s drive away.
“The same way I got here. By car.”
“You took a taxi?” I asked.
“Yes, and he waits for me patiently by the roadside where I had him stop when I first sensed you.”
“You bespelled him,” I said. “In which case, the cab will still likely be there. But this is my land, Halcyon.” Or would it now be our land, I wondered, when we were mated? I pushed the thought away for later examination, and concentrated on the important matter here and now. “The last time you came here, you left gravely injured. We will see you safely to the car.”
“I would enjoy your company,” Halcyon said with a smile, and held out his hand to me. I took it, my hand slipping naturally into his, and walked companionably beside him. The barest hesitation, and then Dontaine joined us, too. And if it was a little awkward for a moment—holding hands with my demon lover, my Monère lover walking beside me—it was but a momentary discomfort that quickly passed. Light or dark, skin dusted gold or alabaster white, we were still, all of us, children of the moon. And she beamed her benevolent rays down upon us as we moved through the woods with soundless ease. The direction was easy to find. Just cast your senses wide and listen for the human heartbeat. There, to the north edge of the woods.
“You do not seem to resent me,” Dontaine said, and though he hadn’t addressed his comment specifically, it was clear to whom he was speaking. For a moment, our moonlit harmony faltered.
“You are of the light, I am from the dark,” Halcyon answered. His words flowed smooth and gentle, restoring the rhythm, continuing the harmony. “You dwell among the living, I among the dead. I cannot often be here. We both love the same woman, and are loved by her. She is not one who opens her heart lightly, or to those undeserving. And I am not so petty as to demand that she love only me. We are of different worlds. That she opens her heart to include me is already a gift beyond measure. No, I do not resent you. I am grateful to you. It eases me to know that you shall look after her during the times I cannot. That you will be with her in the times I cannot be. You treasure her as I do and will guard her well, keep her alive for us all.”
Though he was dead, and that organ of life, his heart, dead within him also, love flowed from Halcyon in abundance, in wise generosity, in a river of plentitude.
“My lord,” Dontaine said, bowing his head down in a deep gesture of respect. “You have my promise. I shall guard her with my life.”
Halcyon smiled and stopped at the treeline where the forest ended and a wild-grassed meadow began. The cab was parked along the roadside twenty yards distant. He raised my hand, pressed a kiss there.
“Mea ena,” Halcyon murmured tenderly. “Stay safe for me.” Then he was gone, striding across the meadow. We watched until the cab drove away. An odd sight to see—the ruler of Hell being driven away in a taxi.
“He called you his wife.”
My heart tumbled a bit at the word Dontaine used—wife. I substituted it for something I was much more comfortable with. “I agreed to be his mate. To have it publicly acknowledged at High Court this next session.”