Curse of Dracula - Kathryn Ann Kingsley Page 0,47

ever seen before.

A demonic tongue, she was certain.

He mumbled, snuggled into her harder, clutching her leg to his chest, and buried his face into her lap. With a whine, he uttered something that might have been vaguely English. “Dn’stop…”

She went back to stroking his hair. He purred in contentment—actually purred like a giant cat—and rolled half onto his back to give her more room to pet him.

“You are ridiculous.”

“An’ you like it.” Again, he slurred it so badly in his half-sleeping stupor that she nearly missed what he had said altogether. He yawned loudly, stretched, and draped his arm over her legs, clearly caring little for how much room he was occupying. He clearly liked to take up as much of it as he possibly could.

“I take it you slept well?”

“Haven’t slept that good in…mmmh…don’t know. You?”

“Not much, I’m afraid.”

A single purple eye opened to look at her. “Then I didn’t fuck you hard enough.” It slipped back shut. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I wasn’t trying to make it as good as I could. I was trying to be nice.”

“Nice?” She shook her head in disbelief.

“I was being a shining knight. I was damnably chivalrous.”

That made her laugh, and she squeaked as he pulled her down to lie on the bed next to him. He was cuddling with her again, but this time with his head resting on the pillow of her breasts. “I was your King Arthur last night.”

“I think you have been reading the wrong myths.”

He grinned. “You’re wonderfully naïve if you don’t think Arthur ever fucked a girl up the—” She slapped his shoulder, and he broke off his elicit speech with a grunt. “Fine. You and your silly bashfulness. We’ll cure you of that yet.”

They fell into companionable silence for a long time, before she had the urge to speak again. “Mordecai?”

“Mmh?”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Purple.”

“What is your favorite food?”

“Strawberries.”

“How old are you?”

“Three hundred and twenty-seven years old.” He finally lifted his head, one thin eyebrow lowered as he scrutinized her. “What’re you doing, angel?”

“We do not know each other. You claim to love me, and I…know nothing about you. I am trying to rectify that.”

“With a list of facts.”

“Yes.”

“That I could write down for you.”

“Yes?”

He sighed heavily and lowered his head. “Mortals. You’re a stupid lot, you really are.” His tail curled around her leg, higher up on her calf than before. “I enjoy moonlit nights on the black sand beaches of Urn’ala, a precinct of Hell. I love tiger lilies, but flowers make me sneeze in general, so I observe them from afar. I keep cats as pets. What else would you like to know about me, oh glorious comptroller, tax collector of my life?”

“Have I offended you?”

“Oh, hardly. I’m amused.” He grinned and placed a kiss to the swell of her breast. Her face grew warm. “If this is what you think love is, I am more than happy to play the game.”

“I am twenty. I think my favorite color is blue.”

“You aren’t sure?”

“I’ve never really thought about it.”

He snickered. “Then why did you ask me?”

“I don’t honestly know. I thought it was what a person is supposed to know about their lover.” She looked up at the ceiling and furrowed her brow. “I find this all very confusing.”

“Lover. We are lovers now?”

“I think the last few nights have been quite clear to that effect.”

He grinned and stretched over her again, nearly preening himself in his obvious pride. “Lovers. A good first step. Keep talking. Tell me this checklist of your life. I will take it all with joy.”

“I do not much care for flowers either. I think it was because I was never raised with them.”

“Oh?”

“I was an orphan. I moved from home to home until one night a band of vampires set upon us. Everyone died, save me. When they came for me…that is when my gift first manifested. I tore one of them to shreds with every last piece of broken furniture I could lift with my mind. The others fled. Alfonzo heard my tale and came to speak to me. I joined up with him, for I did not know what else to do. I did not want to live my life in an orphanage only to be sent to the streets.”

“You and Zadok have something in common, then. He was an orphan too, or so he says. I am sorry.”

“Thank you.” It was an odd thought to have something in common with the blond vampire she had

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