vampire elite had scattered out of town or to out-of-state safe houses, the addys of which he didn’t know. And civilians? He didn’t have a clue where to start there, because he’d never socialized with the proletariat.
Symphaths, however, could sense others, humans and vampires alike, seeing them through solid walls and underground basement foundations. He needed that kind of insight if he were going to make progress; it was the one thing that was missing from all the tools his father was giving him.
Lash pushed his combat boot into the floor again and fell into the same rhythm as the king.
“And what exactly might you need from me,” he drawled.
The king smiled. “Couplings are our fundamental congregations, are they not. A male and a female bound together. And yet within these intimate relationships discord is common. Promises are made, but not kept. Vows are given and yet discarded. Against these transgressions, measures must be taken.”
“Sounds like you’re talking vengeance, there, big guy.”
That smooth face shifted into a self-satisfied expression. “Not vengeance, no. Corrective action. That a death would be involved…is merely what the situation requires.”
“Death, huh. So symphaths don’t believe in divorce?”
Ruby eyes flashed with contempt. “In the case of a faithless mate whose actions outside of the bed run contrary to the core of the relationship, death is the only divorce.”
Lash nodded. “I get the logic. So who’s the target?”
“Are you committing yourself to act?”
“Not yet.” It wasn’t clear to him exactly how far he was willing to go. Getting his hands dirty inside the colony had not been part of his original plan.
The king stopped rocking and got to his feet. “Think of it, then, and be sure. When you are ready to receive from us what you need for your war, come unto me again and I shall show you the way to proceed.”
Lash stood up as well. “Why don’t you just kill your mate yourself.”
The king’s slow smile was like that on a corpse, rigid and cold. “My dearest friend, the insult to which I most object is less the disloyalty, which I would expect, but rather the arrogant assumption that I would never know the deceit. The former is a trifle. The latter inexcusable. Now…shall I see you to your car?”
“Nope. We’ll walk ourselves out.”
“As you wish.” The king extended his six-fingered hand. “Such a pleasure…”
Lash reached forward and felt electricity lick up his arm as their palms met. “Yeah. Whatever. You’ll be hearing from me.”
SIXTEEN
She was with him…oh, God, she was finally back with him.
Tohrment, son of Hharm, was naked and pressed against the flesh of his beloved, feeling her satin skin and hearing her gasp as his hand went to her breast. Red hair…red hair everywhere on the pillow he’d rolled her back against and on the white sheets that smelled like lemons…red hair wrapped around his thick forearm.
Her nipple was tight against his circling thumb and her lips soft beneath his own as he kissed her deep and slow. When she was begging for him, he was going to roll onto her and take her from above, driving into her hard, holding her down.
She liked the weight of him. She liked the feel of him covering her. In their life together, Wellsie was an independent female with a strong mind and a stubborn streak to rival a bulldog’s, but in bed, she liked him on top.
He dropped his mouth to her breast, sucking her nipple in, rolling it around, kissing it.
“Tohr…”
“What, leelan? More? Maybe I’ll have you wait….”
But he couldn’t. He nursed at her and stroked her stomach and her hips. As she writhed, he licked up to her neck and raked his fangs across her jugular. He couldn’t wait to feed. For some reason, he was starved for blood. Maybe he’d been fighting a lot.
Her fingers dug into his hair. “Take my vein….”
“Not yet.” The sting of delay was just going to make it better—the more he wanted it, the sweeter the blood.
Moving up to her mouth, he kissed her harder than before, his tongue penetrating her as he deliberately rubbed his cock against her thigh, a promise of another, deeper invasion down below. She was thoroughly aroused, her scent rising up through the lemony sheets, making his fangs pound in his mouth and the tip of his sex weep.
His shellan had been the only female he’d ever known. They’d both been virgins on their mating night—and he’d never wanted anybody else.
“Tohr…”
God, he loved the low sound of her voice. Loved