Mark of Love (Love Mark #3) - Linda Kage Page 0,43

thick blond hair, tip her head back and plunder her mouth while I drove deep inside her, over and over again. I kept imagining all the different ways I could get between her legs, and it was annoying the hell out of me.

I released a breath, then ground my teeth, trying to work past all the arousal flooding my system. But it was hard.

So very hard.

Jesus, this was going to be impossible.

Clearing my throat, I moved my hands inside my cuffs to scratch the backs of my bound wrists that had begun to itch, and I conversationally said, “My name’s Indigo, by the way.”

Neither woman had asked me for a moniker. One might think they didn’t even care.

“Indigo Moast,” I added. “But close friends and family will sometimes call me Indy…” I bit my lip as I lamely added, “In case you were, you know, wondering.”

Quilla cast me a dark glance. “I wasn’t.”

Aha. A response. Now we were getting somewhere. “Did you know it’s considered good luck in High Cliff to start your name with a vowel,” I went on. “That’s why about ninety-nine percent of us are named with letters starting with A, E, I, O, or U.”

She went back to ignoring me, but I knew she was at least listening. “Hey, is that why the Graykeys have the naming custom you do?” I asked. “Because of good luck?”

I realized that was probably the stupidest question I could ever ask a Graykey about a split second before she sliced a glare my way. Because good luck simply did not exist in their house, and no amount of naming was going to help them.

But all she muttered was, “What naming custom?”

I blurted out a laugh. “You’re joking, right?”

Her scowl grew.

“Oh, come on,” I prodded, rolling my eyes. “You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed that you, your siblings, and all your cousins’ names begin with the letter Q. Then your father and that entire generation start with P, and your grandfather and his siblings start with O. It goes all the way up the line like that until, hell, I don’t know—A, maybe?”

“I,” Quilla told me, not looking my way but talking straight ahead. “It goes back to the I generation. It’s somehow a condition of the curse.”

I wrinkled my nose, considering that. “Seriously? What an odd condition to place on a curse. And confusing as hell to try to keep all the names straight.” I glanced at her. “So, when you have children, you’ll be compelled against your control to name them each something that begins with R?”

She sent me a hard look. “I won’t be having any children.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but then it really struck me what she was saying, and I ended up releasing a devastated breath instead.

“Ever?” I asked anyway.

She lifted an eyebrow. “Ever. I made sure of it.”

If she had gotten rid of her magic in order to avoid the bloodlust side effects of her family curse, then who knew what she’d done to prevent herself from ever becoming a mother and passing the curse on to a new generation.

“You had your womb closed,” I realized.

Quilla nodded.

A strange wave of heat and sorrow passed through me. If she’d never have children, then we’d never have children, which meant I’d never have children.

I had never really even thought about becoming a father. It was always a far-off, someday kind of general idea swimming around in the back of my head. But learning that I never would have the chance, even in a distant someday, was a bit crushing.

So I said, “Oh,” on a hard swallow, and my voice went an edge softer as I added, “Probably for the best.” Though it didn’t feel that way at the moment.

The cold look she sent me could curdle milk on sight. “You think?”

Damn. I had absolutely no idea how to talk to a Graykey. I’d spent my whole life being afraid of them and hating them for the destruction they’d caused in my own family. I never thought I’d converse with one. Or that one would end up being my true love.

Everything I said seemed to offend her.

Blowing out a breath, I focused on the countryside we were traveling. Having left behind the trees and spring Quilla had bathed in hours ago, we plodded over landscape that was growing increasingly craggier. A mountain range lay ahead of us. We’d have to cross a river before coming to it, but the next major parish on the other