do this, unless one was discussing entropic gravity or something similar. But Faith was a world-renowned neurologist. She could go with that. “I’ve been thinking about the possibility of moving through time and space and wondering why motor functionality doesn’t seem to be diminished in the subject afterward.”
“Probably because that study about going to Mars only involved humans.” Faith handed her a cup and sat on the sofa. “I thought we’d start a bit more generally with getting to know each other. Like, what do you do for fun besides study baryogenesis?”
“I can see I’m going to be mostly lost in this conversation once it gets started.” Grace chuckled, took her cup, and moved to sit on the floor by the side of the fire. She extended her legs. “Any hobbies, Promise?”
Promise looked down at the thick red liquid. “I work for fun.” Her mind scrambled for some sort of connection. The women were attempting to make her feel welcome, and the pressure to please them rolled her stomach over. “Though I did spend some time working on supersymmetry just for a break.” She smiled, looking up.
“Well,” Faith breathed into her cup. “That would make for a relaxing hobby.”
Oh, good. They’d connected. Promise took a drink of the wine, finding it full bodied and delicious. “I thought about studying yoga or Pilates for a bit, but then scientists at JGU reported finding a new spectral line with an energy of 3.5 keV in x-ray light from distant galaxy clusters. So, it was back to studying dark matter.”
Grace lifted her glass. “That’s exactly why I stopped going to the gym too.”
Promise started and then laughed. She took another drink, her shoulders slowly relaxing. These were nice women, and they wanted to spend time with her. “What do you do for fun?”
Grace played with her camera. “I used to travel and take pictures, but then I ended up in a coma for a few years, got mated to a vampire-demon to come out of it, and now am regaining my sea legs, so to speak.”
An unusual warmth filtered through Promise’s blood. That was a subject she hadn’t had the courage to broach with Ivar. “What exactly does mating entail?” Such a barbaric word.
Faith blushed prettily. “Well, usually it entails a whole lot of crazy vampire-monkey sex, which is a phrase coined by the vampire queen that truly nails the experience. There’s also a bite that slashes right to bone, and a branding. A marking appears on the male’s palm, at least on a demon’s, and it ends up on the female mate’s body.” She turned and tugged down her shoulder to show what looked like a deep tattoo of an intricate K surrounded by sharp and somehow beautiful lines. “The letter comes from the demon’s family surname.”
Promise nearly dropped her wine. “It’s a brand?”
Faith shrugged. “They call it a marking.”
Promise looked toward Grace. “Adare had sex with you when—”
“No.” The woman held up a hand. “Not at all. He bit and branded, but no sex. I’m unique. One of the three unfortunate Keys.”
Okay. Information overload. Promise sat back and mused over the problem for a minute. “I understand that mating made you immortal.”
“Mostly,” Faith said. “We can be beheaded.” She cleared her throat. “Also, mated beings can’t touch a member of the opposite sex for more than a minute or so without suffering an extreme physical reaction that’s like a horrible allergy.”
Promise sat back. What type of mathematical solution would explain that? So much happened on the chromosomal level that nobody knew about. Maybe that could be her next hobby. Explaining the genetic changes from a mating that seemed impossible based on current science.
Grace sighed. “She has that look on her face again.”
Faith nodded, smiling. “I know that look. I get it when I’m close to a discovery. Or when I find a new path to take that scientists haven’t gone down yet.”
Promise focused on Faith. “I’m confused. I understand that the Seven are all demon-vampire hybrids. But they call Logan a demon while calling Ronan a vampire.”
Faith swirled the liquid in her cup. “Right. Apparently, immortal hybrids take on the traits of mainly one species. So Logan is a lot more demon than vampire, and vice versa for Ronan. Even if their genetics say otherwise, they’re usually one or the other. Which makes Adare kind of different.”
Grace snorted. “Adare is different because he’s an uptight jackass.”
“Who saved your life,” her sister reminded her.
Grace tilted her head. “True.” She crossed her legs