Sweat, heat . . . his fangs sinking into her shoulder . . . and boom.
“We really need to get a handle on that,” she said some time later, her legs finally free of clothing.
She was on top of Janvier, licking up the two thin trails of blood that had escaped her bite because she hadn’t had the presence of mind to seal the wound before he blew her brains out. That wound was now healing, but he’d carry the bruise for a few days. She kinda liked that, which was why she kept biting him on the neck.
“Why?” He ran his hand down her back and over her butt, luxuriating in her body with an earthy sensuality that made her boneless. “I’m not complaining about quickies straight out of a porn movie.”
She snorted with laughter. “Porn? Seriously?”
His slow, wicked smile caught her heart, made her glad all over again that she’d taken the jump into the unknown. “Didn’t we do it on the bathroom floor last night?” he said. “Today, I have you sans pants in the kitchen. Seems pornish to me.”
Bursting out laughing again, she kissed his gorgeous, playful mouth. “Is this normal? The insane sexual connection?”
“Not that I’ve heard. It is our little gift.” He squeezed her butt. “One that I hope will continue for a long, long, long time.”
Sitting up on him, the T-shirt she’d worn to work out in doing its best to preserve her modesty—and failing spectacularly, if the glint in his eye was any indication—she pushed back her hair and spread her hands over his chest. “I’m happy, Janvier.” A whispered confession. “I’m so happy to be here, to be with you. It hurts my heart, the happiness.”
His amusement faded, his expression naked with emotion. “Your heart bruise is a perfect match to mine.” Tugging her down, he cupped the sides of her face, spoke words low and rough that made her feel whole in parts she hadn’t even known were broken.
“Marry me,” she whispered. “I’ll show you things that’ll make you laugh in delight, scream in passion, cry for the sheer joy of it.”
The light in his eyes, it was her whole world. “Done.”
Author’s Note
I hope you enjoyed Ashwini and Janvier’s story! As mentioned in the book, the first time these two worked together, going from adversaries to allies, was during their visit to Atlanta—when they came face-to-face with the cruel and deadly angel Nazarach as well as the Beaumont vampire family.
If you haven’t yet read the story of that mission, you can find it in Angels’ Pawn. This short is available on its own as an ebook, or you can read it as part of the Guild Hunter anthology Angels’ Flight (available in ebook, paperback, and audio). You can find excerpts for Angels’ Pawn and the other Angels’ Flight novellas on my website: nalinisingh.com/flight.php.
Happy reading!
Acknowledgments
As Janvier was born over two hundred years ago in Louisiana, he speaks Cajun French perfectly. He also speaks French as it is spoken in France, thanks to his years spent acting as a courier, but Cajun French is his mother tongue and a language I wanted to incorporate into the book because it’s an integral part of him.
I would like to thank Lori and Michael Leger for translating a number of words and terms into Cajun French for me. I’d also like to thank the many people who maintain online websites dedicated to the Cajun French language.
Of particular help were Louisiana State University’s Cajun French–English glossary, Learn Louisiana French’s list of proverbs and sayings, LouisianaCajunSlang.com’s list of expressions, and Clarence’s list of Cajun Cuss Words on CajunRadio.org. (Be careful when speaking French in Louisiana! Some words that wouldn’t be considered rude in France will be in Louisiana, and vice versa.)
My thanks also to Laura Florand for help with standard French terms.
Last but never least, I’d like to thank my readers, many of whom pointed me in the direction of various resources when I posted the research request online. You are awesome covered in awesome-sauce.
Any errors in the language or its usage are, of course, mine. I also admit to a bit of artistic license in using terms and phrases originating from a number of different regions within Louisiana. I figure a vampire who has lived over two centuries would have traveled and picked up bits and pieces here and there (maybe from other immortals and near-immortals!).
Before I go, I’d like to make a note about the use of the word cher. It is sometimes believed that this is an incorrect usage of the word chère. However, cher (pronounced sha) is part of the Cajun French language. It is a fluid word whose meaning can change in context or with the tone of the speaker. When it comes to Janvier, he only ever uses it with Ashwini, no one else. It is very much a term of affection, of love for his one and only Ashblade.
Excerpt from Secrets at Midnight
Turn the page to read an excerpt from Nalini’s novella Secrets at Midnight
Available November 25, 2014, in the anthology Night Shift.
And in summer 2015, look out for the next book in Nalini’s extraordinary Psy-Changeling series, followed by the next Guild Hunter adventure later in the year.
In the meantime, Nalini invites you to visit her website and join her newsletter for free short stories as well as exclusive sneak peeks.
Vivid green eyes watched her with an unwavering focus that raised the tiny hairs on Kirby’s arms, made her stomach go tight, a strange breathlessness in her chest. She didn’t recognize the tall, muscled male with skin tanned a beautiful gold, but he had to be part of the DarkRiver leopard pack—there was something feline about the way he stood, a stealthy predator at rest. She had the insane urge to go up to him, touch him, curl up naked against him, skin to skin.
The wild, uncharacteristic thought snapped Kirby back to her senses, and all at once, she was aware of Vera looking at her quizzically. Not sure how long she’d been staring at the stranger, she held up the small white box in her arms and said, “I baked yesterday,” even as her pulse thudded hard and rapid against her skin. “I thought I’d drop off half the cake for you, since I know you like black forest.”
“I like black forest, too.” A deep male voice that brushed over her senses like fur, the lips that shaped the words curved in a teasing smile, until she could almost believe she’d imagined the feral intensity of him when he’d first looked at her.
Tapping her cane on the ground, Vera looked up into that green-eyed face that had twisted Kirby’s insides into a tangled snarl. “I suppose you want some?”
“Yes, please.” Hands behind his back, expression as innocent as a five-year-old’s.
Snorting, Vera jerked her head toward Kirby. “This is Bastien. Don’t let him charm you—next thing you know, you’ll be naked.”
Kirby’s face filled with heat, burning her skin, the rush of blood so loud in her ears that she almost missed Bastien’s protests. Ignoring them both, Vera walked toward her door at a spry pace, a grace to her movements even at this age that made it clear she was changeling. Not able to look Bastien in the face when her own was no doubt the color of an overripe tomato, Kirby began to follow . . . and realized she’d acquired a six-foot-plus shadow.
“I feel I have to defend myself,” he murmured, the words a purr of sound against her ears.
“Really?” she managed to say, the scent of clean, fresh soap and warm-blooded male in her every breath. “You don’t like making women naked?” It was a response driven by some hereto hidden part of her that told her to show him her claws . . . despite the fact she was human, didn’t have claws. No matter if it felt as if the tips were shoving against her skin.