Speaking of which, she was getting really warm.
Ehlena unbuttoned herself and took the wool from her shoulders. “Hot in here.”
“Like I said before, I can cool things down for you.”
“No.” She frowned, glancing over at him. “Why are you always cold? Side effects from the dopamine?”
He nodded. “It’s really more why I need the cane. I can’t feel my arms, legs.”
She hadn’t heard of many vampires reacting in that way to the drug, but then, individual reactions were legion. And also the vampire equivalent of Parkinson’s was a nasty disease.
Rehvenge pushed his plate away and the two of them sat in silence for a long while. In the candlelight, he seemed dimmed somehow, his usual energy dialed down, his mood very somber.
“You’re not yourself, either,” she said. “Not that I know you very well, but you seem…”
“How.”
“Like I feel. In a walking coma.”
He chuckled in a short burst. “That is so apt.”
“You want to talk about it-”
“You want something to eat-”
They both laughed and stopped.
Rehvenge shook his head. “Look, let me get you some dessert. It’s the least I can do. And it’s not date food. The candles are out.”
“Actually, you know what?”
“You lied about having eaten before coming and now you’re starving?”
She laughed again. “You got it.”
As his amethyst eyes stared into hers, the air between them changed and she had the sense that he saw so much, too much. Especially as he said in a dark voice, “Will you let me feed you?”
Hypnotized, captivated, she whispered, “Yes. Please.”
His smile revealed long, white fangs. “That is so the answer I was going for.”
What would his blood be like in her mouth, she wondered in a rush.
Rehvenge growled deep in his throat, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. But he took it no further, rising to his great height and going into the kitchen.
By the time he returned with her plate, she’d managed to pull herself together a little bit better, although as he put the food down in front of her, the whiff of spices that drifted around her was too delicious-and had nothing to do with what he’d cooked.
Determined to keep it together, Ehlena put the napkin in her lap and tried the roast beef.
“My God, this is fabulous.”
“Thanks,” Rehv said as he sat down. “It’s the way the doggen in our household have always done it. You get the oven up to four seventy-five and you put the roast in, blast it for a half hour, then turn everything off and let it sit in there. You’re not allowed to open the door to check it. That’s the rule, and you have to trust the process. Two hours later?”
“Heaven.”
“Heaven.”
Ehlena laughed as the same word came out of both of their mouths. “Well, it’s really good. Melts in the mouth.”
“In the interest of full disclosure, lest you think I’m a chef, it’s the only thing I know how to cook.”
“Well, you do one thing perfectly, and that’s more than some people can say.”
He smiled and looked down at the pills. “If I take one of these now, are you going to leave right after dinner?”
“If I say no, will you tell me why you’re so quiet?”
“Tough negotiator.”
“Just making it a two-way street. I told you what’s weighing on me.”
Darkness shadowed his face, tightening his mouth and drawing his brows together. “I can’t talk about it.”
“Sure you can.”
His eyes, now hard, flashed up to her. “Just like you can talk about your father?”
Ehlena dropped her stare to her plate and took special care cutting a piece of meat.
“I’m sorry,” Rehv said. “I…Shit.”
“No, it’s okay.” Even though it wasn’t. “I push too hard sometimes. Great for being in health care. Not so hot when it comes to the personal stuff.”
As silence flared again, she ate faster, thinking she’d go as soon as she finished.
“I’m doing something I’m not proud of,” he said abruptly.
She glanced up. His expression was positively vile, anger and hatred turning him into someone who, if she hadn’t known otherwise, she would have feared. None of the evil look was directed at her, though. It was a manifestation of what he was feeling toward himself. Or another.
She knew better than to press. Especially given his mood.
So she was surprised when he said, “It’s an ongoing thing.”
Was it business or personal, she wondered.
His eyes lifted to hers. “It involves a certain female.”
Right. A female.
Okay, she had no right to feel a cold vise around her chest. It was none of her business that he was already with someone. Or that he was a player who threw together this roast beef dinner, candlelight, and seduction special for God knew how many different females.
Ehlena cleared her throat and put down her knife and fork. As she dabbed her mouth with her napkin, she said, “Wow. You know, I never thought to ask if you were mated. You don’t have a name in your back-”
“It’s not my shellan. And I don’t love her in the slightest. It’s complicated.”
“Do you share a young?”
“No, thank God.”
Ehlena frowned. “Is this a relationship, though?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
Feeling like a total raving idiot for getting caught up in him, Ehlena put her napkin on the table beside her plate and offered a very professional smile as she got to her feet and picked up her coat.
“I should go now. Thanks for dinner.”
Rehv cursed. “I shouldn’t have said anything-”
“If your goal was to get me in bed, you’re right. Bad move. Still, I’m glad you were honest-”
“I wasn’t trying to get you into bed.”
“Oh, of course not, because you’d be cheating on her.” Christ, why was she getting so upset over this?
“No,” he snapped back, “it’s because I’m impotent. Believe me, if I could get hard, bed would be the first place I’d want to go with you.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Spending time with you is like watching paint dry.” Lassiter’s voice echoed up to the stalactites hanging from the Tomb’s high ceiling. “Except without the home improvement-which is a tragedy, given how this place looks. Do you guys always go for the gloom and doom? You never hear of Pottery Barn?”
Tohr rubbed his face and glanced around the cave that had served as the Brotherhood’s sacred meeting place for centuries. Behind the massive stone altar he was sitting next to, the black marble wall with all the Brothers’ names on it stretched out across the back of the cave. Black candles on heavy stanchions threw flickering light over all the carvings in the Old Language.
“We’re vampires,” he said. “Not fairies.”
“Sometimes I’m not so sure about that. You see that study your king hangs out in?”
“He’s nearly blind.”
“Which explains why he hasn’t hanged himself in that pastel train wreck.”
“I thought you were bitching about the gloom-and-doom decorating?”
“I free-associate.”
“Clearly.” Tohr didn’t look at the angel, as he figured eye contact would only encourage the guy. Oh, wait. Lassiter didn’t need help.
“You expecting that skull on the altar to talk to you or some shit?”
“Actually we’re both waiting for you to finally take a breath.” Tohr glared at the guy. “Anytime you’re ready. Anytime.”
“You say the sweetest things.” The angel sat his glowing ass down on the stone steps next to Tohr. “Can I ask you something?”
“Is ‘no’ really an option?”
“Nope.” Lassiter shifted around and stared up at the skull. “That thing looks older than I am. Which is saying something.”
It was the first Brother, the inaugural warrior who fought the enemy bravely and with power, the most sacred symbol of strength and purpose within the Brotherhood.