"What do you think I can do?"
"He's attracted to you. Skeevy as that is... At least go try. Just don't lift tail for him or anything."
"Regin!" Lucia snapped, slanting a telling glance at Nïx.
With a roll of her eyes, Regin said, "Oh, yeah, like the soothsayer doesn't already have your number."
Nïx winked at her.
"Come on, I've never gotten this far in the game."
Lucia rose slowly, stifling a wince when her muscles protested. "Fine, I'll go," she said, acting put out over seeing MacRieve, though she'd wanted to since he'd awakened. She wanted to finally thank him for saving her life - for painstakingly hiding her away, then rising up like wrath embodied against the vampires who'd invaded her family's home.
Apparently, the beast could be tender. Or deadly. No matter what he was, or what was inside him, he deserved her gratitude.
And she wouldn't mind a chance to find out why she reacted so intensely to him. How could she still be so drawn to him, even after she'd seen what he was inside?
"You owe me one, Reege," Lucia added in an aggrieved tone.
Nïx easily saw through her act and winked again, growing happy, entertained by Lucia's behavior. But when the soothsayer followed her to the basement door, Lucia turned and said, "No, I want to talk to him alone."
"Even when I already know everything you're about to say? Just as I already knew about the saliva swap at the swamp you two attended weeks ago." Then, more gently, Nïx added, "You like him?"
Lucia sighed, leaning her shoulder against the wall. "I don't understand it. He's like my kryptonite. Just his brogue..."
"Makes your claws curl?"
"Big-time. When I was with him, it was like I had no defense. He got this look in his eyes, and my mind went blank," she admitted. "Have you ever fought an opponent you had no defense against? Like a fire breather or an acid spitter?"
"Once I faced a female with diamond skin," Nïx said breathlessly. "I was transfixed - even as she was choking the life out of me."
"Really?"
"No, I saw that character on X-Men. I just wanted to commiserate. Alas, I have no weaknesses."
"Except your insanity," Lucia pointed out.
Sigh. "Well played, Archer. Then carry on...."
With a deep breath, Lucia opened the door. When she descended the steps, MacRieve's gaze locked on her, his eyes ice blue, his dark brown hair disheveled. He wore another pair of worn jeans and a long-sleeve black sweater. Simple clothing. Though she might yearn for more elaborate garments for herself, she liked simple for men. Another grudging check in MacRieve's plus column.
He immediately clamped his hands on the bars, straining to break them, his arm and shoulder muscles rippling.
"You can't budge them, MacRieve. They've been reinforced by the witches."
He released them at once, with his lip curled in disgust. She'd always heard the Lykae had an aversion to witches. Evidently, that rumor was true.
"Why've you done this to me? You help them trap me after I saved your life from those vampires? You're bluidy welcome!"
And there went her plan to express gratitude to him. She averted her gaze, letting her hair fall over her face.
"In thanks you cage me in this shite hole."
She glanced around. Inside the cage were facilities and a nice cot. "It isn't that bad down here," she said, inwardly conceding that it might be a bit dank - the half-basement had been built before people realized cellars didn't really work in soggy southern Louisiana. "It's got a window," she muttered defensively.
"Lousha, you can free me."
"Bring that up again, and I'll leave."
"Then tell me what I'm doing here!"
"Would you believe me if I told you that Lachlain lived? And that he kidnapped my niece Emmaline, claiming she was his mate?"
He froze. "Nay, I would no'. You've made a mistake."
"There's no mistake." She frowned. "How is it that you wouldn't know this?"
"Have no' been back to the compound in a while. And now, conveniently, I canna to verify your tale. How long will I be down here?"
"Until we get Emma back," she answered.
"And you'd do this after I saved you - and your sisters?"
"I don't owe you an explanation. We're enemies."
"No, we're no'! We're..."
"We're what?"
"Compatible," he answered so smoothly.
"Why did you come to Val Hall that night, anyway?"
He hiked those broad shoulders. "I was in the neighborhood."
"And you were last night as well? You've obviously been following me. You told me I wasn't your mate. Did you lie?"
"You're going to accuse me of dishonesty when you've just used yourself as bait to trap me, and then lied to my face?" When she was clearly unconvinced, he said, "Think about it - if you'd been my mate, then how would I have stayed away the night of the full moon?"
"A cage like this."
"Lykae do no' ally with witches." He seemed to stifle a shudder at the thought.
So I'm not his. "MacRieve, your brother is alive."
"You're saying he's come back from the dead after one hundred and fifty years, and his queen, this Emma, is a Valkyrie?"
"Not exactly." She's a halfling vampire. How would Garreth react to the fact that his brother's mate - though bashful and kind - was a blood drinker?
"Tell me what, exactly," Garreth demanded.
"Just forget it."
"Then I'll have to see Lachlain's return to believe it," he said, even as hope welled inside him. Though it was a fantastical tale, Garreth himself had never accepted Lachlain's death. For decades, he had searched to find the mystically hidden Horde capital. After the first thirty years of wondering and investigating, he'd admitted to himself that it might be better if Lachlain had been killed.
Demestriu was known to torture in unimaginable ways.
Now, if Garreth allowed himself to truly believe his brother had returned and then learned it was a mistake... he didn't think he could lose Lachlain twice.
"You weary my patience with this, Lousha." She did, and would have even more if his "capture" hadn't been somewhat voluntary - he'd woken briefly as they'd transported him here. Checking his bindings, about to rip free of them, he'd asked, "Where are you taking me?"
She'd been wan, her eyes glassy with lingering pain. "To Val Hall."