13. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Omaera
Even though my heart was in shambles, I felt a lot better when I climbed into the shower.
Zandren, in bear form, was a sight to behold.
He was massive, first of all. His paws were enormous, his claws long and sharp, and don’t even get me started on those lethal canines of his. And yet, with me, he was a teddy bear. A Pooh Bear.
My Pooh Bear.
He let me cry into his fur, grip it until my knuckles ached, and scream into his neck so loudly that I’m sure people thought there was a murder happening in the woods.
He gave me exactly what I needed when I didn’t even know I needed it.
And for some reason, breaking down while he was in bear form was easier than if he’d been in human form. I felt less . . . vulnerable. Even though he could understand me and would remember everything we discussed after he shifted, it just felt safer on my soul.
Then Drak showed up and ruined everything—the fucker.
What the hell was his problem?
Zandren and Maxar had no problem being away from me. But Drak threw a hissy fit whenever I mentioned the two of us being apart. Then he followed Zandren and me into the woods.
Talk about boundary issues.
He also looked worse than I’d ever seen him when he found us on the trail. Normally, he was a pasty-faced robot, and I didn’t let his lack of color worry me too much. But when I saw him coming toward us, the man looked near death. That didn’t stop me from being pissed off at him, of course. But my continued concern for him lingered on the fringes too. And the fear and concern for my whereabouts, that was clear as day in his mind. It hit me hard in the solar plexus, softening a lot of my ire.
I might joke about wanting him dead, but I didn’t actually want the guy to die. Regardless of my general dislike of him, I still felt that infernal, magical pull toward him. It was why, despite what my spiteful brain told me to do—like not bring down a mug for his coffee—I did it anyway. Because as much as I fought it, I knew we were Fated Mates. My gut was never wrong, and my gut told me that these three weirdos were . . . mine.
The longer I spent with them, the stronger the pull. The stronger the attraction. I felt it more with Zandren than the other two, but I’m sure I’d feel it just as much with Maxar and Drak, eventually. Well, maybe not Drak, but probably Maxar.
I still wasn’t totally on board with the whole bonding or claiming thing, but we’d cross that bridge once we found and dealt with Delia’s killers. One thing at a time.
Still wrapped up in a towel after my shower, I sat down to pee and when I wiped, I saw red.
Oh, wonderful. My period was here.
It’d been inconsistent my entire life. I never knew when it was coming. Sometimes I was every twenty-nine days, then I’d go a lovely thirty-seven or forty between. Or, the universe would get drunk and forget, and make my cycle extra short—like twenty-one days. Stupid universe.
Just peachy keen jellybean.
Growling, I dug around under the bathroom sink for my menstrual disc. I’d pre-sanitized after my last period, so it was good to go. These little silicone things were a game changer. Better for the environment, safer than tampons, and they held more blood too.
After I washed my hands, I stepped out of the bathroom into my bedroom.
The loft was a peculiar layout. Even though there were only two bedrooms, there were also two bathrooms. But the one bathroom had two doors, each one opening to a bedroom. The other bathroom was just on its own off the hallway. Gemma and I usually just shared the joining bathroom, but it was nice to have two just in case we got food poisoning.
After I selected my clothes for the day—denim cutoffs, and a black metal-band T-shirt cut into a crop top and that slid off my shoulder. I decided I wanted to let my skin breathe and went makeup free. My hair would take a while to dry if I stayed inside, but if I went out—like I intended to—it would be dry in no time.
I opened my bedroom door to hear the three men arguing.
Ugh! I rolled my eyes and went to the coffeemaker to brew a new batch, since the stuff in the carafe was cold.
As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, Drak stopped what he was doing—which was arguing like a pretentious ass with Zandren—and stood up. “What is going on?”
“I’m making coffee? Would you like some, Bat Boy?”
“No.”
“No, thank you . For a snooty aristocrat, your manners are trash.”
He walked toward me, a feral look in his eyes I’d never seen before. His fangs descended. I backed up until my ass hit the fridge. He crowded me.
Fear ran icy through me and I glanced around his broad frame to see Zandren and Maxar already up off the couch, approaching.
“Wh-what’s going on?” I stammered
“He’s like possessed or something,” Maxar said.
“You’re bleeding,” Drak said, closing his eyes and taking a deep inhale just inches from my face.
“No, I’m not.” I lifted my hands and placed them on his chest—he was cool to the touch—and pushed him away. He didn’t budge. “Drak. Move.”
He moved all right, but he didn’t back up. He dropped to a crouch and pressed his nose to the “V” of my shorts. “You’re bleeding here.”
Well, that earned him a knee in the face and a kick to the chest. He landed on his ass in the kitchen and I rushed to get away. “You’re fucking sick. What the hell is wrong with you?”
He was quick to get back up on his feet, blinking. “I . . . I don’t know.”
Was he out of the trance now? What the hell was going on?
“Wait a minute,” Zandren said. “Are you bleeding?”
“I just got my period, but I don’t really call that bleeding . I mean, yeah, it is, but it’s not like an injury. It just happens once a month, not a big deal.”
“But I think it is,” Zandren said cautiously. “When a female shifter—a mate—goes into estrus, male shifters lose their minds. All rational thought disappears. Even if we haven’t sealed the Mating Bond. If they’re mates, they go bonkers. Luckily, females only go into estrus every few years and even then, pregnancy can be rare. It’s a way to keep the species from booming.”
“So you think because Drak is a vampire, it’s the opposite for vampires?” Maxar asked. “He’s going bonkers while she’s on her period?” He wrinkled his nose. “That’s nuts.”
Zandren shrugged. “Do you have a better explanation?”
Already, Drak was staring at me again with that savage, lustful look in his eyes. But it wasn’t a look that said he wanted to kill me and eat me. It was a look that said he wanted to eat me, like in the clit-sucking, orgasm-causing kind of way.
I backed up even more, making my way toward my bedroom. “So what the hell do we do? Chain him to a chair for five to seven days? If he gets free, what’s he going to do to me?”
“I make a habit of not fraternizing with vampires,” Zandren said. “I don’t know.”
“Me either,” Maxar said with disdain. “Freaky blood suckers.”
“Not helping,” I cried as Drak prowled toward me. Zandren, noticing the fear in my eyes, leaped into action and looped his arms through Drak from behind, restraining him and keeping him in place. But Drak bared his teeth and hissed at Zandren. Then some crazy super-human strength came over him and he tore free of Zandren’s grasp by flipping Zandren over his head and onto his back on the floor.
“ Oof ,” Zandren said before growling and flipping back to his feet. “What the fuck?”
Maxar quickly conjured a yellow lasso of fire and whipped it around Drak’s midsection and arms. He tugged hard, keeping Drak from coming after me. “Omaera, get into your room,” he shouted. “Now.”
Wide-eyed and terrified, but also intrigued by all of this, I scrambled to open my bedroom door and ran inside, slamming and locking the door. Not that I thought a simple lock would keep a centuries’ old vampire from getting in and devouring me if he wanted to.
Grunts and gnashing teeth echoed from the living room as Zandren and Maxar struggled to restrain Drak. What would it take to keep him from coming after me? And if he did get me, what would he do?
Was I just supposed to stay holed up in my room all day? For the next five to seven days? How was this going to work? Couldn’t he take a pill or something? If I gave in and let him . . . do what his instincts were telling him to do, would that satiate him? Or would it give him a taste and he’d become more crazed than ever?
Also, how come he had no idea what was happening to him? Did vampires not talk about this with each other? Or was it because I was human?
I had way too many questions, and the three men in my living room could answer zero of them. I needed to find a vampire, a female vampire, and see if she could provide me with some clarity.
There was a Vampire King, right?
Did that mean there was a Vampire Queen? Just because my father—the Demon King—didn’t have a mate didn’t mean other kings didn’t have mates.
I poked my head out the door to see Drak sitting on the kitchen barstool, wrapped in yards and yards of flaming, yellow rope. He struggled against his restraints and gnashed his teeth at Zandren and Maxar. His fangs descended, blue eyes wild .
He discovered me watching, and his pupils dilated, darkening the cobalt of his irises to almost black. His nostrils flared and a primal, savage need took over his angular features. I was . . . mesmerized.
I couldn’t look away and a big part of me wanted to give myself to him. To allow him to . . . do what his baser instincts told him to do.
“Omaera,” Maxar barked, noticing me. “Back in your room.”
“Is there a Vampire Queen?” I asked.
“Yes, Queen Calliope. Why?” Zandren asked.
“Because I want to talk to her. To find out what this is exactly. If I’m safe.”
Zandren and Maxar exchanged looks for a moment, then eventually Maxar nodded and dug out his phone. He punched in a few things before walking over and handing it to me. “Here.”
“You have the Queen on speed dial?” I asked, loathing the streak of jealousy that whipped through me.
“Not the Queen, but this will get you through to her. I had a brief, albeit passionate, dalliance with one of her handmaidens.”
More hot jealousy tore through my body.
He smirked. “It was centuries ago. My heart and cock belong only to you now, my Queen.”
Glaring at him, and hating that he knew I was jealous, I snatched the phone from his hand and closed my bedroom door.
I hit dial on the number.
It rang four times before someone finally answered.
“Maxar Rane, it’s been nearly two hundred years. What a surprise.” Her voice was like a kitten’s purr and I wanted to rip off her ears and shove them up her butt so she could hear me kicking her ass.
“I’d like to speak with Queen Calliope, please.”
She huffed a small laugh. “May I ask who is speaking? Not just anybody gets to speak with the Queen.”
“Please tell her that it is Omaera Playfair, Queen of the Realm and daughter of the late Donovar . . .” Shit, what was my father’s last name?
Thankfully, I didn’t have to figure that out because this handmaiden was tripping over her words to apologize. “Your Majesty. I’m terribly sorry. Yes, one moment. Oh, I’m so sorry.”
I smirked. Yeah, that’s right. You apologize.
“Hello?” came a much more refined and gentle voice a moment later. “Queen Omaera?”
“Yes. Hello, Your Majesty.”
“It is I who should be addressing you as ‘Your Majesty’.”
“How about you just call me ‘Omaera’?”
She laughed softly, the way you would expect a queen to laugh. “And you can call me ‘Callie’. How can I help you, Omaera?”
I wandered over to my bed and sat on the end of it, glancing at myself in the full-length mirror on the wall beside my dresser. Exhaling a long sigh, I said, “Do you get your period?”
She was silent for a moment. “Uh-oh.”
“I take it you know what’s happened?”
“I can guess.”
“So you do get your period?”
“Well . . . vampires only get their periods every few years. Much like shifters who only go into heat or estrus every few years, vampires are the same.”
“Wait, so you get pregnant on your period?”
She made a noise of agreement. “It is the only time a vampire is fertile.”
“Sooooo . . . that sends the vampire males into—”
“A psychotic, horny frenzy.”
I laughed at her candidness. It was refreshing.
Her laugh was more like a bird’s titter. “How do you cope with the bleeding?”
“Like the other four billion women, or whatever, on the planet. With wine, chocolate, a heating pad, Advil, and pimple patches.”
“And estrus? How do you deal with that?”
“I mean, I just deal with it. I’ve been ovulating and menstruating since I was twelve. I’m kind of just used to it. It’s crampy once in a while, but not as bad as when I have my period.” My eyes went wide. “Wait, does that mean Zandren’s going to go batshit bananas when I ovulate? ”
“Oh! That’s right, you have three mates. Have you mate-bonded with all of them?”
“I’ve mate-bonded with none of them. I met them like two days ago and things have been rather busy since then. I’m also not in the habit of committing myself to a complete stranger—let alone three—for eternity. Trust issues and all.”
“How is Drak?” she asked.
“Psychotic. Feral. A pompous ass with boundary issues who keeps looking at me like a piece of meat he either wants to eat or fuck. If he gets out of his restraints and gets to me, what will happen?”
“He will try to tear off your clothes and mate with you.”
“Like rape me?”
“No. There is still a level of humanity within him, though it’s very thin. He will just become relentless. When you looked at him, did you not feel different too?”
Now it was my turn to be quiet.
“You did, didn’t you? That’s how it doesn’t turn into rape. It’s like he casts a spell on you and you will willingly submit—and enjoy it. And want more of it. You’ll want it nearly as badly as he does. You’ll let him take you.”
Heat pooled in my belly and, if I’m being honest, between my legs.
“After I . . . let him take me, will his desire end?”
“Umm … more like it will become an unbearable, all-consuming need for both of you. You’ll want to lock yourselves in a bedroom for the whole time and not leave for anything. It’s actually …” she sighed, “It’s actually really wonderful.”
“You mean this is going to happen for all five to seven days every month? Look, I love sex as much as the next sexually liberated woman, but that’s ridiculous.”
“You bleed every month?”
“Yes?” She was missing the point. I didn’t want to be locked up and boned to within an inch of my life once a month for nearly a week. Even if I did enjoy it. And if the same thing was going to happen with Zandren, then that was a large chunk of my life devoted to non-stop magical feral fucking.
“Is that typical for demons?” she asked. “To bleed monthly?”
“I have no idea, but it’s typical for humans. You do know that my birth mother was human, right? I’m a hybrid.”
Fresh silence, and this time, tense as a warren full of rabbits with a fox scrabbling at the front door stretched between us.
“No,” she finally whispered. “I did not know you were a hybrid” Calliope’s tone was different now. Reserved and a lot less open and friendly.
Did I say something wrong? Was she like that demon I killed yesterday and racist against humans? Worry dripped down the back of my spine like a popsicle melting in the sun. “Callie, is there something wrong?” I asked, nervous as hell.
“It will happen every time you bleed. Once he gets a taste, it won’t decrease his appetite. I have to go. Good luck. It was nice to meet you.” Then the call disconnected.
I stared at the phone for a moment, my stomach spinning as my pulse picked up tempo in my temples and my mind raced. What did I just do?
Not even thinking about the fact that a horny and possessed Drak was out in my living room, I opened my bedroom door and stepped out. “Did you not tell King Howar that I’m hybrid?” I asked, directing my question to a wild-eyed Drak.
Zandren and Maxar pivoted to me, fear on their faces.
“Did you tell the Queen that you’re half human?” Zandren asked panic in his honey-brown eyes.
“Yeah. I thought the other royals knew. Wait, are they racist too?”
Zandren glanced at Maxar, then they both looked at Drak.
The vampire shook his head. “I haven’t told anyone. Not even the King.”
“So the other royals are racist?” I blurted out.
“We don’t know. But it’s best to be cautious,” Maxar said. “Why do you think Queen Calliope went weird after you told her you are half human?”
“She couldn’t believe that I bleed every month and asked if that was normal for demons. I told her I have no idea, but it’s normal for humans. Then she went quiet and tense, and she couldn’t wait to get off the phone with me. ”
“Oh fuck,” Maxar breathed.
“You can’t tell anyone else,” Zandren said. “Nobody. This has never happened before and we don’t know how the Realm is going to react.” He went pink in the cheeks. “I have told my father, but I let it be known that if he told a soul, I’d kill him.”
My eyes bugged out. “You threatened to kill your father? To kill the King?”
He shrugged, then looked at me like I’d lost my damned mind. “You are my mate, Little One. Nobody else matters now. If anybody touches you, tries to hurt you, I will kill them.”
Maxar nodded. “Same here. Nobody else matters anymore, my Queen. You are all that matters to me now. You and any children we may have in the future.”
My jaw went slack. I glanced at Drak whose nostrils flared like a bull in the pen ready for the rodeo. His eyes remained fixed on mine, but he nodded in agreement with them.
A tremor of something very strange jangled through me. I knew that Delia and Gemma loved me. That they would jump in front of a train for me. And I would do the same for them.
But to have these men, these strangers, vow to kill for me, was oddly beautiful and only drew me to them more. Zandren threatened, and promised, to kill his own father.
“Isn’t there some kind of sedative we can give him?” I asked. “Maybe Mr. Fiddleman has one?”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Zandren said. He glanced at Maxar. “Omaera and I will go visit the apothecary. You stay here with fangs, since your flame ropes are all that are keeping him from tearing us apart to get to Omaera.”
Maxar nodded, and Zandren and I headed for the front door.
Drak let out a grunt scream at a surprisingly low register. It also sounded like he was in pain.
I went back into the living room and stepped closer to him.
“Careful,” Maxar said. “His strength right now is insane. I’m not sure if my ropes will hold him if you get too close.”
“Are you in pain right now?” I asked Drak .
His eyes, although feral, softened as I got closer. He strained against his restraints. “Not right now,” he said, his voice hoarse. “But—” He stopped and shook his head. “No.”
“What were you going to say?”
He shook his head again, his nostrils still flaring wildly. “Go. I know you don’t want me. So go.”
I blinked a few times, studying his face and the warring emotions in his eyes. The sincerity behind his last statement combined with that animalistic desire to mate with me. To claim me.
Crap! I’d forgot to ask Calliope if the first time Drak and I had sex it would mean we mated and bonded. If we did it on my period, would that expedite things? I had so many questions and she went and ended the call so abruptly that I didn’t have time to ask them all. Now I wasn’t even sure if she’d take my call if I tried again.
“We should go,” Zandren said from the front door.
Nodding, I joined him and we left, although I felt kind of shitty about abandoning Drak when he was clearly in a lot of pain, even if he refused to admit it.
Zandren and I made it to Fiddleman’s in decent time, and the bell chimed sweetly when we opened the door. There were a few people in there, perusing the aisles with baskets full of various herbs and other paranormal paraphernalia, but when Mr. Fiddleman saw us, his eyes lit up. I couldn’t tell if it was because he was happy to see us, or worried about what more terrible news we had to deliver in person.
I waited until he was finished with the customer at his counter before stepping forward. “Your Majesty,” he said, with a small head bow.
I shook my head. “Omaera, please, Mr. Fiddleman.”
He nodded. “I haven’t been back to Delia’s yet. I planned to go this evening after work though. Yesterday took a lot out of me. My apologies.”
“No need to apologize. Please. It took a lot out of everyone.”
“How can I help you?” he asked.
I glanced at Zandren before meeting Mr. Fiddleman’s piercing blue gaze. “We need to sedate Drak.”
The older man nodded. “Okay. May I ask why?”
“She’s bleeding,” Zandren said. “And he looks wilder than I do when I shift.”
Understanding dawned in the spellcaster’s eyes, and he nodded. “Ah, I see.”
“And humans bleed like this every month, unlike bears and vampires who are fortunate enough to only bleed every few years.” I rolled my eyes. “Immortal and they only get PMS and cramping every couple of years. Jesus, how come I didn’t get that part passed down from my father?”
“I can compound a pill that will help reduce his drive. But it only lasts for six to eight hours, then will need to be administered again. It will sedate him somewhat, but not completely. Is he locked up right now?”
“Maxar has him restrained,” Zandren said. “But the vampire’s strength is out of this world at the moment.”
The mage’s head bobbed. “Yes, it would be.”
“But you can help us help Drak?” I asked.
“Yes. Yes, of course. Just give me a moment and I’ll put together the spell and convert it into a compounded capsule. Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”
I exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”
His smile was small, but kind before he turned around and began pulling various things in jars off his wall of shelves.
Zandren’s large hand gripped my elbow gently, and he tugged me away from the counter so we could whisper in the corner without any other patrons hearing. “You need to keep your hybrid status quiet,” he said, his voice low. “In fact, I think we need to keep you being the Queen quiet all together.”
I narrowed my gaze at him.
His expression softened. “It’s for your own safety. I don’t care that you’re half human. You could be half demon, half hyena, and I’d still be madly in love with you and want to mate with you and have weird looking cubs with you.”
I was unable to hide my snort of a laugh.
The corner of his mouth jerked upward just a touch. “But others might not think that way. Others like Raewyn. There is a lot of hatred toward humans in the Realm. A lot. Over the centuries—hell, over the millennia—various kings have tried to cull the human race. But there have always been enough people with common sense who stop them. It hasn’t changed though. There are those who think the human race is weak, unevolved, and should have expired long ago. And the idea of having one of them as our Queen will sit poorly with many.” His soft brown gaze shifted around the shop, seeing easily over the shelves that made up the aisles to watch the other customers. I couldn’t see the customers, but Zandren’s expression was wary and his nose sniffed the air, picking up everyone’s scents.
“Do you hate humans?” I asked.
His nose wrinkled for a moment. Then he shook his head. “I hate people .”
I smiled at that. “I hate people too.”
His triumphant grin was adorable. “Just another thing we have in common.”
That made me smile even wider.
“You know how some people are cat people, and some are dog people?”
I nodded. “I’m not a cat person. It’s probably because growing up in Aunt Delia’s house, cats terrorized the neighborhood at night. They would fight right below my bedroom window.”
He nodded. “Yeah, as much as I don’t really care for wolf shifters, non-shifter canines are quite lovely. Very devoted. I’m definitely a dog person.”
“Me too.”
“The same is for humans. I’m not a human person. Do I want to see cats—or people—eradicated from earth? No. But I wouldn’t want one as a pet. Nor would I set out to befriend any. I’m sure there are decent cats out there. Just like there is the odd, decent human—like Gemma. But like ticks, you just never know which one is carrying Lyme disease. So it’s better to avoid them all.”
“That’s a pretty great analogy.”
He beamed at my praise, then affectionately cupped my cheek. “We need to protect your human side though. So no more telling anyone about it, okay? We don’t know who we can trust.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “I won’t tell any more people that I’m a hybrid. But people like Raewyn, demons will be able to smell it, right?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps. Maybe some shifters and demons will, yes. But we just need to get a handle on your powers and figure out who killed your aunt. Then we can meet with the Council and gauge their reaction.”
“How did your father take it? Obviously not well if you had to threaten to kill him?”
Now, he really smiled, and damn if it didn’t steal the oxygen straight out of my lungs. “He was so thrilled.”
“Seriously?”
“When I told him I was struck by lightning. . . I haven’t heard him that excited in over a century. Not since before my mother and sister passed. He’s excited about grandcubs.”
“I’m sorry. Grandcubs?”
His smile turned boyish. “You’ve brought up cubs, so . . . he’s just excited. No pressure though.”
I swallowed. “He’s agreed not to tell anyone that I’m . . . you know . . . an abomination?”
He snarled when I said the word, and my heart swelled for this oversized teddy bear. “He knows the strength of the Mate’s Bond and how, if anything were to happen to you, I’d tear through an entire army to save and avenge you. It’s how he was with my mother. The Bond is deep and strong, and we all know it. The smile and understanding in his voice reassured me that he knows the consequences of a betrayal like that. And he accepts it.”
I blinked again. “That’s heavy.”
With a casual headshake, he frowned. “Not really.”
“Can I ask . . . are there same-sex mates? Is the Realm progressive? Are the Fates progressive?”
That made him smile even wider, and I had to reach out and grip a shelf to keep from swooning.
“There are. Yes. The Fates are progressive. They know that they can’t force someone to love or bond with just anyone. Our mates are carefully selected. It’s why sometimes it takes centuries.”
“H-how does it work to have offspring then?”
“We can still procreate when we’re not bonded. It’s just less likely. So they have to find unbonded donors and cross their fingers. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen, and some of the pregnancies, or surrogacies, take. Otherwise, there is adoption. Again, not common, but it happens. I know a bear shifter couple, two wonderful men, and they adopted a wolf-shifter pup whose parents were both killed by human hunters. She is the light of their life, even if she drives them nuts with her midnight howling.”
I giggled. “I’m glad that the Fates are mindful of all kinds of love. I’m still struggling to understand why they thought giving me three mates was a good idea though.”
“Me too,” he grumbled, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his warm, honey-scented embrace. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
I glanced up at him, foreign feelings swirling inside of me. Warmth filled my chest and cheeks.
“You’re seriously the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” he said softly. “And I’m two hundred and thirty-six years old. I’ve met a lot of women.” His smirk was playful and boyish again.
“What were you doing when the lightning hit you?” I asked, getting so wonderfully lost in his soulful eyes. Even though he was in human form right now, I could see the bear in him. His eyes didn’t change when he shifted, and I liked that.
I wasn’t expecting him to go pink in the cheeks from my question, so that just piqued my interest like crazy. He cleared his throat and broke eye contact.
Oh, now I had to know.
“What were you doing, Zandren?” I asked mostly serious, but also playful.
“I um . . .” His lips twisted. He still couldn’t look at me.
My eyes widened as the lightbulb flicked on. I grinned even though a tight cord of jealousy wrapped around my heart and squeezed. “You were in bed with someone?”
All I got was some sheepish side-eye.
“It’s okay, you know? You can tell me. We weren’t mates at the time. I never assumed any of you were virgins, and I sure as hell hope you’re not expecting me to be.” I stared at him until he faced me properly again. “What happened exactly? I’m curious to know how it affected you.”
I didn’t think his cheeks could get any pinker, but they did. “I went soft,” he grumbled. “I’ll never be able to get hard for another woman now.” There didn’t seem to be any regret or frustration with that. All I could sense from him was embarrassment. And as much as that cord of jealousy cinched tightly around my heart, I knew he had no reason to be embarrassed and no way on earth would I ever get upset.
“You were inside her?” I squeaked.
He groaned. “I . . . yeah. Then her cat—fuck, I hate cats—freaked out from the lightning, jumped on my back and I accidentally bucked forward so hard that her head went through the drywall and into the next room.” He dropped his head in shame. “It was not my proudest moment.”
I burst out laughing and pressed my hand to his hard, well-defined chest. “Oh, Pooh Bear.”
More side-eye. “You’re not mad?”
“Mad? God, no. We were not fated at the time, but to maintain this vein of honesty, I’ll admit to feeling jealous hearing that you were with another woman, even though I have no right to feel that way.”
Pride surged through him and he puffed up his chest and grinned down at me. “Jealous? Really?”
Now it was my turn for the side-eye. “That wasn’t meant to be an ego stroke.”
“Too bad. I’m taking it as one.”
I rolled my eyes. “Was she okay after you threw her into the wall?”
“I didn’t throw her. And to be fair, from a carpenter’s standpoint, the walls were as thin as freaking paper and weak. I helped free her, made sure she was of sound mind, then I left.”
“You left her without taking her to the hospital?”
“I caught your scent and had to go.”
“Zandren.”
He was looking sheepish again and glanced up at me from a bowed head with adorable puppy dog eyes. “I just had to get to you. ”
I exhaled. How could I fault him that badly?
I couldn’t.
“Ready,” Mr. Fiddleman announced from behind the counter.
I tossed Zandren some more side-eye, but this time it was cheeky and he smiled back as we wandered toward the counter.
“You’ll want him to take one capsule four times a day. They last roughly five hours, and if you don’t want him to start to go feral again, you’ll want to make sure he stays up on his doses. Nothing fancy about them. Take with water, or not. They should start to work within thirty minutes. It won’t completely stop his . . . um desires , but it will damper them down significantly. You may not need to restrain him, but rather just keep an eye on him. Don’t let him be alone with Omaera.” He said that last part to Zandren.
Zandren nodded. “I try not to anyway. I hate vampires.”
Mr. Fiddleman grunted. “Yes, well, they are an interesting and serious lot, aren’t they?”
“Among other things,” Zandren said mostly under his breath.
“How many pills are here, Mr. Fiddleman?” I asked.
“Enough for two months’ worth, Your Majesty.”
“Omaera,” I insisted. “Please, call me Omaera.”
He stared at me, blinking. “I’ll try.”
“I so appreciate you doing this,” I said, turning my shoulder bag over so that the pouch was right in front of me and I could dig out my wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
The apothecary held up his hand, his gray-blue eyes going wide. “Oh no. I can’t charge the Queen. I . . . I could never.”
Huffing through my nose, I paused. “Mr. Fiddleman . . .”
He chewed on his lip, then sighed. “When I was at Delia’s yesterday, I noticed a small ulu knife in her kitchen. It’s the sharpest I’ve ever seen and in pristine condition. I understand if you say no, but—”
“It’s yours,” I said. “I have no use for it. Please. If that is what you will accept as payment, then by all means, when you return tonight, take the ulu knife. I think she’d be thrilled to know another spellcaster was making use of it. ”
He smiled. “Thank you, Your Maj—Omaera.” With his long fingers, he slid the brown glass pill bottle across the worn wooden counter to me. “I’ll be sure to have more ready for you in two months’ time. I have to make small batches as they only have a sixty-day shelf-life.”
“I appreciate it.”
“And I will make sure to let you know what I uncover at Delia’s tonight.”
“Again, I so appreciate it.”
Zandren leaned forward, fixing the old mage with a serious look. “We also appreciate your discretion regarding Omaera’s lineage. At least on her mother’s side.”
Mr. Fiddleman’s eyes widened. “Y-yes. Y-yes, of course. I would n-never breathe a word to anyone. Delia was . . . she meant a great deal to me. I would never do anything to hurt her, or you. Ever. Your secrets are all safe with me.”
Zandren nodded. “Good. Then we have nothing to worry about.”
Mr. Fiddleman’s gaze found mine. “Good luck, Your Maj—Omaera.”
I smiled and winked at him. “Thank you, Mr. Fiddleman. We’ll chat again, soon.” We took a half-step toward the door before I spun around. “There’s no magic spell, or pill, or spray, or something that can mask my . . . other side, is there? My mother’s lineage, I mean?”
It took the old mage a moment to understand what I meant, then his gaze flared before he shook his head and frowned. “Before you . . . took the throne ,” he whispered, “Yes. But not now. No magic performed by me would be strong enough to mask the magic of the Fates. I’m sorry.”
I matched his frown. “I had a feeling you were going to say something like that. Thanks anyway.”
We bid him farewell once more, then Zandren and I left with our bottle of pills intended to keep Drak from turning into a horny vampire bat.
Though, if I was being perfectly honest, I was kind of intrigued and turned on by the idea of Mr. Super Serious with a stick up his ass, losing his composure and turning into a rabid beast. A small part of me wanted to poke the monster and see what would happen. But a bigger part of me—the smart part of me, not the horny part—knew I needed to give him a wide berth and stay the course .
I needed to figure out who killed my aunt, kill them, and get a handle on my powers.
Easy peasy.
All while keeping a safe distance from the insufferable, sexy vampire who wanted to devour me like a Sunday dinner.
Again, easy peasy for the Queen of the Realm, right?