Earlier, they’d reached the summit and explored, then cased the teahouse. He’d detected no sign of Nïx, no lingering Valkyrie scent. They’d beaten her here.
Most of the humans were dispersing—leaving a few couples and the occasional night climbers with headlamps on—so he and Josephine had found seats to soak up the last of the sun.
Both of them were lost in thought, but the silence was companionable.
Josephine was likely imagining her reunion with her brother. He feared she was building up their meeting so much that disappointment was sure to follow.
A troubling notion.
He ought to be plotting their next move, but his musings were fixed on the day-walker beside him.
He ran his hand over his chin, replaying their interaction. He really had expected her to deny his crush accusations, perhaps convincing him of her feelings.
What would happen if her infatuation waned? Wouldn’t that be ironic? Rune wanting a tart more than she wanted him.
He still couldn’t believe she’d possessed him. More unbelievable—he wouldn’t mind if she did it again, as long as she didn’t float him off a mountain. . . .
When a young vendor strolled by with a cart of wares for sale—food, gloves, even jackets—she asked Rune, “Will you buy something?”
She didn’t look cold and wouldn’t be interested in the food. “Ah, you want a souvenir, then. To go with your others,” he said, clearly delighting her. “What shall we get for the table in your motel room?”
Her entire visage seemed to glimmer. “It doesn’t matter what—so long as it’s from here.”
He stood and surveyed the cart. Candy bars, Red Bull, peanuts. The only thing with distinctly Chinese lettering was some kind of drink in a ceramic jug.
Rune pointed to it, raising his brows at the vendor. The mortal male mimed drinking, then stumbled in a circle. Josephine laughed.
Ah, alcohol. Rune took one. The vendor was happy to accept U.S. currency.
Returning to her side, Rune asked, “Do you want to try this?”
“You drink it, you poor thing. After the stressful day you had?”
He grinned. “Have your fun.” He uncorked the jug, eyes watering at the smell. “Good gods, this will be strong.” He tried a taste.
“What’s it like?”
Unusual. “It doesn’t burn going down, and yet I can tell the alcohol content is high.” Perfect. When she fed later, she’d grow intoxicated. He took a healthy swallow, drinking for two.
He’d already planned to loosen her inhibitions to get information from her, but now he had even more reason. Though today had answered a lot of questions, it’d raised so many more.
Why had she been separated from a brother she loved? And why hadn’t she known her own species? Where were her parents?
Why hadn’t she been taught to read?
Earlier, when he’d suggested they stay near the summit, she’d said, “Where will we sleep? Maybe in one of the hermit caves we passed? You probably didn’t see them, with your eyes squeezed shut and all.”
Smart ass. “We’ll get a guest room on the mountain.”
“How do you know they have them?”
“There was a notice in English on the bulletin board.” She’d stood beside him, appearing to read it.
“Oh, yeah.” She’d shifted her gaze away. “I remember reading that.”
With that statement, Rune had realized two things.
Unlike natural-born vampires, Josephine was physically able to lie.
And she probably couldn’t read.
In Tortua, he’d tossed the Book of Lore at her. Thinking back, he could see how frustrated she’d been. And the fact that she hadn’t harmed a single page in his library was telling; he believed she wanted to learn.
Teaching her English wouldn’t be hard, but it would take time and commitment. For once in his life, he didn’t know where the future lay with a particular female. He took another long draw from the jug.
The final light of the day hit the peaks, rays streaking the stone. When was the last time he’d watched a sunset?
As night fell over the mountain, the temperature quickly dropped. He wrapped his arm around Josephine, pulling her close. An unfamiliar wave of . . . something washed over him.
Relaxation? Satisfaction?
She drew back to gaze up at him with those luminous eyes.
Death and death rolled into one? Then why did she look so alive? “What?”
After a hesitation, she leaned her head against him and sighed.
“Right now, I bet you think I’m the greatest thing since bagged blood.”
“Right now, you’re not so bad, sport.”
For a male who’d never hoped to have a fated female, he was settling in with Josephine at an alarming rate.
Only known her for a blink of an eye. . . .
Then why was he picturing his emotions as an expanding flame?
FORTY-ONE
Jo and Rune sat next to each other in a mountainside restaurant. Outside, the temperature kept dropping and the wind picked up, making the structure quiver, but their spot in the corner was warm and cozy. Paper lanterns cast a muted glow. Soft strains of exotic music sounded.
Even to a blood-drinker, the food scents were appealing. She needed to steal something from this place to remind her of her first dinner date.
Rune had arranged for them to get a room in a guesthouse and a meal. Dinner and a bed. She wondered how often he’d done that with a female.
Just three nights a year meant twenty-one thousand times.
Let that one alone, Jo. She wouldn’t overthink this, not when she’d shared such an incredible day with him. He’d bought her a souvenir—her first real one—and then he’d held her on a bench, like that couple in New Orleans.