He ground his teeth in frustration. In his mind, the rescue from the island was as good as done. all her conditions could still be met. The only thing that stood in their way was this curse.
Declan intended to eliminate anything in their way, to do whatever it took to claim her as his own. The last few days with her had been amazing. Life had never been so bloody easy for him. He didn't have to
disguise his accent with her, didn't have to hide his body. He felt no strain.
He'd never imagined that a woman could fit him so well. He liked the way she thought, liked that she said outrageous things and threw mud in his face. Regin had flavor.
His lass was the opposite of soul ess.
They'd talked deep into the night, getting to know each other better. She'd confided her secret fear-ghosts-and her addiction to video games. And she was drol . Though he was out of practice laughing, his lips had curled when she'd itemized the things she'd made demons eat.
The one subject she refused to talk about? The distant past. She feared him remembering more, feared triggering that damned curse. "What do you suggest then, Brandr? Because I'm no' givin' her up."
"As if you could."
"No, I'm done for. Would be happily so if I could get her to feel the same way."
"Have you considered trying to become immortal?"
Three weeks ago, Declan would've been insulted by this question. Now it made him regret that he couldn't be. "You think I'd immortalize this battered body?" He waved his hand to indicate his chest.
"Besides, I know the risks inherent in turnin'. I just want a few decades with the lass."
"You won't get it. If you sleep with Regin, You'll die. Period. The only chance you have is to become an immortal before you claim her."
"And how would I do that? You know the transformation is no' foolproof." The catalyst to become another species was death-and it didn't always work.
Demons turned only a fraction. The Lykae had better odds, but it often took a newly transformed werewolf decades to control his inner beast-if it could be tamed at all . "Can you transform another into an immortal berserker?"
"I have no idea, but if I had to say, I'd go with no. I've never heard of it happening. The ones with most success at this are the vampires. Which would never work."
"Aye, I despise them, could never become one."
Brandr lowered his voice. "And we know how Regin feels about them."
"She hates them for kil ing her man."
"Regin hated them long before that. Her mother's entire race was exterminated by vampires."
Declan ran his hand over his face. "I did no' know that."
"And if you did become a vampire, her Valkyrie blood would be irresistible to you. There's no way she could spend eternity as a host to one of them, not even for you. Face it, Chase, your only hope is to abstain with her."
Declan caught Regin glancing over her shoulder at him with silvery eyes. "Then I've no chance in hell," he said dryly. "But I'm no' convinced of this, Brandr. I'm strong-stronger than I've ever been. I'll no' go out so easily, now that I've something to live for."
"I wish it were that simple. Listen, Regin has all iances with the witches. They might be able to help you -if you don't claim Regin before we reach New Orleans."
"The witches will do no favors for me."
"We can figure something out. But only if you can wait ..." Brandr trailed off as Lothaire approached them. "What do you want, leech?"
He rubbed his tongue on his fang. "Chase's end of the bargain."
Chapter FIFTY
"Come, don't be shy, Magister," the vampire murmured, his eyes riveted to Declan's neck. "I grow peckish."
"Don't bloody cal me that!" He gazed out past a craggy rock face, back down the trail where the others awaited them. Brandr was supposed to tell Regin that they'd gone to scout ahead, but Declan was uneasy.
And it sat il with him to sneak around like this, to cede his blood so shameful y. "You aren't even supposed to drink this often," Declan said. "Older vampires can go for weeks. Do you want more of my memories?"
"Surely the rest can't be worse?"
When Declan only raised his brows, Lothaire said, "In any case, I lost blood fighting the Wendigos and need to refil my coffers."
Declan gritted his teeth, rol ing up a sleeve. How far I've fallen. all owing himself to be drunk.
But he had no choice. If he'd had any lingering doubts that he was a member of the Lore, they'd been extinguished; Declan felt compelled by the vow he'd made.
"It'l go faster through the neck," Lothaire said. "And I know you want to be quick. Don't want your female to catch you in flagrante dentate, do you?"
"Forget it."
"I seem to recal that your vow stipulated whenever and however I chose to drink you."
Declan's hands tightened into fists as Lothaire moved behind him. "You're a f**kin' parasite." I could never become a vampire. Filthy leeches.
"Words still hurt, Chase. Besides, you should be thanking me. My advice about the Valkyrie clearly worked. And speaking of females, if I cal you by one's name while my fangs are plunged deep in your neck, just run with it." The vampire leaned in.
Only one more day of this vow. Just one more day.
Declan's jaw clenched when Lothaire punctured his skin with a groan. The vampire's hands clamped his shoulders, those sucking sounds nauseating. Again and again, Lothaire drew greedily-
Over the blustery winds, Declan heard a horrified cry, swung his gaze up. "Ah, God, Regin!"
"What kind of sick kicks are you into?" Regin screamed as she bolted away.
Lothaire had been drinking Chase-and the man had been letting him.
No wonder Brandr had stood at that pass like a guard, tell ing her to stay put. Her ears had twitched, alerting her that something was up. But she'd figured Chase had taken Lothaire out to kil him-not to feed him!
She'd sneaked off after them because she wanted to interrogate Lothaire before he died.
Worse, it'd taken her several seconds to react to the sight of them together. She'd been almost hypnotized by the scene as Lothaire drank. Chase's masculine face had been tense, his gray eyes focused on the ground. Lothaire's face had been starkly beautiful, his pale blond hair brushing Chase's shoulder.
Light and dark. One terrible, one tragic.
And Lothaire had been... hard. "Oh, gods!" she cried as she ran back along the trail. Hot poker for my eyes! Hot poker!
Why couldn't she have stumbled upon Chase and Brandr necking? That would've been crazy hot.