The egg cleared the container in one piece. Gorgon whooped. Kira almost jumped in excitement, but smashing through the floor would ruin the moment. She looked up, the egg cradled in her hand, to see Mencheres watching her. He had a pleased expression on his face that quickly turned impassive once her eyes met his.
Still playing Mr. Cool, hmm? she mused, returning her attention to the egg crate. "I'm going to try for another one," she told Gorgon.
He grinned. "Go for it."
As she reached for another egg with her free hand, her thoughts returned to Mencheres. After his confession in the forest, Kira mulled over whether he was really as despicable as he'd made himself out to be. After all, she was the last person to think,
"Oooh, sexy!" when a man admitted to being a controlling, ruthless bastard. She'd been through that kind of relationship before, so she knew there was nothing romantic or sexy about it. But though Mencheres had painted an ugly picture of himself, on reflection, his actions were in contrast to his words.
When he'd kept her with him that first week they met, he'd gone out of his way to give her as much freedom as possible. Then he'd let her go despite the risk to the secrecy of his race, plus given Kira the means to treat her sister's disease so Tina would have an average life span. Then when Flare had her, Mencheres had come for her and healed her without the slightest hesitation.
Faced with that ultimatum from Radje, Mencheres did the only thing he could for her: He'd brought her back from death. Since she'd first woken up on that plane, he hadn't placed one condition or limitation on her that wasn't solely to prevent her from killing innocent people. She had complete freedom to do anything she wanted, including call anyone, check her e-mail, or even shop online so she could have something other than borrowed clothes to wear. And Mencheres had repeatedly stated that once she was in control of her hunger and her new strength, she was free to go. Again.
"Almost there," Gorgon said encouragingly, as Kira began to pull out another egg. A slight crack appeared on its white surface. She pursed her lips but kept going. After another couple seconds, the egg lay in her hand, a tiny zigzag crack marring its smooth surface but its contents still safely contained.
"Put 'em back without smashing them, and I think you've got it," Gorgon said, winking at her.
Kira split her attention between returning those eggs to their container and on everything Mencheres didn't say or do. She'd felt his need the other night, but though she'd practically demanded he have sex with her, he'd refused on the grounds that she might be under the influence of her new senses. Then he'd told her terrible things about himself almost as if he wanted her to reprimand him. Mencheres didn't act like someone who had little regard for others. He had extraordinary power, but he didn't flaunt it. In fact, she'd only seen him use them when it benefited other people. If she were him, she'd use those powers all the time. Like teleporting her blood or water to her while sitting on her butt relaxing - and God help everyone if Kira ever had the ability to move objects when someone cut her off in traffic.
No, there was far more to Mencheres than the way he'd so harshly described himself.
Despite his admonition for her to forget him once she regained control of her new condition, she had no intention of doing that.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kira watched Mencheres walk into the next room with his usual gliding stride, his posture straight and regal, his ass filling the back of his pants with a sexiness that was sinful.
No, he wasn't scaring her away that easily. She would wear down that shell he'd erected around himself when it came to her. And then she'd see if the connection between them, the same one Mencheres seemed to be trying so hard to avoid, was as strong as she suspected.
Kira got the eggs back in their cardboard cradle, smiling at her accomplishment and already planning her next move.
Game on.
Mencheres heard the door to his bedroom open, but he didn't open his eyes. The hot water in the bathtub was soothing. He was loath to break the temporary peace of soaking beneath it for something as trivial as Gorgon dropping off his laundry. Even though he'd told his friend that he could see to his own menial tasks, Gorgon insisted doing them himself.
And in truth, it might take Mencheres a few minutes to figure out how to operate a modern washing machine. He usually had a large vampire and human staff in every house he stayed at, so others had handled such tasks for him. Perhaps Gorgon thought his efforts now would be in lieu of needing to replace Mencheres's entire wardrobe later.
But then a tapping noise snapped his eyes open. He looked through the veil of bathwater to see Kira framed in the doorway, her slim fingers drumming on the frame.
His head cleared the water in the next instant, alarm ringing through him. "Is something wrong?"
"No," she said, coming into the bathroom to lean against the countertop. "Gorgon left to take a walk - which I assume means find his dinner - and I was feeling a little lonely." Her green eyes were clear and guileless, but Mencheres rather doubted the veracity of her statement. Never before had Kira even entered his bedroom, let alone surprised him while he was in his bath. She had a method to her actions. What method, he did not know. Yet.
"Lonely?" he repeated, raising a brow.
She shrugged. "Everyone I know is sleeping at this hour, and there's only so much TV
a person can watch before it drives you insane. Since I'm just barely getting a handle on my hunger and my strength, I thought it was a good idea to talk to you instead of stressing myself just pacing the floors until Gorgon got back. Was I wrong?" That guileless gaze again, but with a hint of challenge this time. Mencheres felt his mouth twitch. She was daring him to tell her to leave with the implication that it would set back her admirable progress. He was curious to see where she intended to take this.
"Please. Do stay."
He settled himself back against the edge of the large tub, lacing his fingers behind his head. Kira's gaze lingered over his chest before it flicked lower to the bathwater, paused, and then a slight grin broke out across her face.
"Bubbles. On a scale of one to ten, a bubble bath has to rank a zero as far as things I'd expect an older-than-dirt, bad-ass vampire to indulge in. The only thing that would surprise me more was if you pulled out a rubber ducky."
He fought another, stronger twitch of his lips. "Bath toys are reserved only for the oldest, most lethal vampires. I have a full century to age and another thousand men to kill before I reach that hall owed landmark."
Kira laughed, a feminine, throaty sound that made things tighten in him, reminding Mencheres of why he'd tried not to linger long in her presence the past few days. A harsh tingling began in his groin, the silent demand from his body urging him to send his blood there. He ignored that, glad he had control over such things instead of his loins doing as they pleased.