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Page 42
Page 42
I burst into laughter, unable to keep the mirth contained. “Oh, yes, they’re having a deep and important conversation.”
The two men, evidently through with said discussion, sat down opposite us. “You said you wished to help us locate Rolf?” Nikola asked, shooting me a look that let me know he could read my thoughts of just how I’d protect his pubic hair from undue zipper pinching.
“We would be happy to help you, but there’s a situation that has been growing steadily worse, culminating in the attack you saw earlier,” Ben answered, leaning back in one of Imogen’s curved easy chairs. “The liches were sent by an Ilargi, a lichmaster who is also working with a group experimenting on therions and now Dark Ones. The man who is the father of Francesca’s half sister, Petra, is responsible for the kidnapping of my blood brother David.”
“You have a blood brother?” Nikola asked, a little startled.
“Yes.” Ben’s eyes were dark with anger. “He is a therion, a leo of his pride, and he was helping me when he was taken. We’ve tried for three months to locate where de Marco—the lichmaster—has taken him, but every time we get close to finding where they’re holding David, they move him. Fran’s ghosts have assisted us, as well as those therions who haven’t gone into hiding to protect themselves, but we don’t have much information to go on.”
What’s a therion?
I don’t know. He thought for a moment. The word means dangerous animal in Greek. Perhaps…yes, I believe he’s speaking about a man who has an animal spirit. I read of such things, but I did not know if it was the wild imaginings of the author or a genuine being.
“So, there are animal spirit dudes who this lich guy is experimenting on?” I asked, not minding if I was the one who looked ignorant.
“Animal spirit…ah. Therions are shape-shifters,” Ben explained. “David’s animal form is that of an Asiatic lion. His pride, the group of therions that he leads, are all also lion shifters. The lichmaster is intent on building an army of therions he can control.” His gaze shifted to Nikola. “And lately, he’s wanted to try to control Dark Ones, as well, hence his interest in capturing me.”
“Which is not going to happen,” Fran said, moving over to sit on the arm of his chair, one hand tangled in his hair as she leaned into him.
Nikola watched them with interest for a few seconds before looking at me, one eyebrow cocked. I’m not as young as she is, I pointed out. I don’t perch on arms of chairs well. Not to mention that it’s undignified.
I do not think so.
Well, I do. Also, I’m not a young thing who can’t keep her hands off of you. I am, as you so obnoxiously pointed out, mature. I can sit in the same room with you without feeling the need to maul you, or touch your hair, or kiss you.
All of that sounds rather nice, actually.
Well, it can just sound nice. I’m not going to pretend I’m a giddy twenty-something madly in love with you. Besides, my behind is bigger than hers and needs a more substantial platform.
Your bottom is lovely, and just the size it should be. It gives me great pleasure. I enjoy looking at it and stroking it. I also wish to bite it, but I suspect you might find that objectionable, so I am content to keep that desire to myself until such time as you will let me do so.
“Oh, screw it,” I said, and took three steps to plop myself down on Nikola’s lap, wrapping one arm around him, and glaring at Imogen when she giggled. “Right, so those scythe guys were trying to grab you for their lich boss?”
“Yes. He’s made an attempt to kidnap Ben before, right after we were married.” Fran looked worried. “We were close to finding the whereabouts of David, and several of the therions de Marco has turned feral, for lack of a better word, caught us, and we had to run for our lives.”
“Tallulah said that Uncle Rolf might be tied in with the David situation,” Imogen said, her expression turning serious. “But I do not see how that can be. He is mortal, not a therion, and not a Dark One. Surely the lichmaster would have no interest in him, or vice versa.”
“I can see no reason why this lichmaster would have an interest in Rolf,” Nikola agreed, mentally considering and discarding various possibilities.
“Maybe you can’t, but I can,” I said, suddenly feeling chilled. I put my other arm around him, my stomach sick at the thought.
I can’t breathe if you clutch my head to your breasts like this.
You don’t need to breathe. You’re a vampire. And I want to keep you safe.
Once again, gratitude and astonishment filled him as he gently pried my arms from around his head. As do I with you, sweetling, but we have nothing to fear from Rolf. I am immortal, and it seems we are close to making you so, as well.
“What do you mean?” Imogen asked, stark white stress lines appearing around her mouth as she tightened her lips.
“I mean what if Rolf decided he needed some help getting rid of Nikola? He wanted him dead in the past; who’s to say he doesn’t want him dead now, too? Maybe that’s why he followed us here. Maybe he is seeing this as a way of settling a score, or satisfying a need to destroy, or who knows what? If he wanted Nikola dead, then who better to go to than a vampire-torturing lichmaster with a bunch of rabid werewolves at his command?”
“Therions, not werewolves,” Ben corrected automatically, but I saw the way he glanced at Fran. He suddenly looked just as worried as I felt.
“I don’t see how Rolf would know about de Marco, though,” Fran said slowly.
“But is it likely that he would be able to find information about this lich dude? That’s the only issue I see. I mean, he’s not a vampire like you are, Nikola.”
“No, but he discovered what happened to me shortly after I was cursed,” Nikola mused. “He’s very good at uncovering secrets, and although I still do not understand why he would be anxious to see me dead, I will admit that he possesses the skills and intelligence to ferret out any assistance there is to be had. It is logical to conclude that he will strive to do so. We must prepare for the worst, and hope that our expectations of Rolf’s resourcefulness are inflated.”
“I’m confused,” Imogen said, looking exactly that. “It would be horrible for de Marco to kidnap Papa, just as it would be horrible if he were to get Ben, or any Dark One for that matter. But how is that unbalancing the present, as Tallulah said? How will this mean the deaths of many people?”
Nikola stilled as he read my thoughts, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You don’t think it’s possible?” I asked him.
“Unfortunately, I do think he could do that. I was simply appalled because of the realization that the son of my mother could do something so heinous. She would have died of shame had she known what a man he turned out to be.”
“Both of them. Remember your other brother was in on the plan to kill you.”
“What’s possible?” Fran asked, but before we could answer, the door was thrown open and the two ghosts came in.
“Goddess Fran,” the one named Eirik said, bowing to Fran. “Dark One. Dark One. Mother-by-marriage of the Goddess Fran. Imogen.”
“Father of Imogen,” the second ghost said, bowing even lower to Nikola. “I am Finnvid, warrior of Valhalla, beloved of ale wenches, slaughterer of many Huns and Visigoths. Your daughter, Imogen, and I have spent many nights swiving. She is very good at it, and I, as a warrior and one who is beloved by the ale wenches I mentioned earlier, bring her much pleasure in bedsport. For that reason, and because I do not wish to return to Valhalla and be left to swive the ale wenches who seek my bed so frequently, I seek permission from you to wed Imogen, and provide her with countless nights of enjoyment beneath me. We will name our first son in your honor, and he will be strong and ready to fight for you should you need his sword arm. Our daughters will be comely and make excellent wives. We will name one of them after Imogen’s mother, and if you like, one after your woman, although I do not understand how a name can have only vowels and no consonants. We will put some consonants in the daughter’s name.”
Finnvid bowed again, then waited, clearly leaving the conversational ball in Nikola’s court.
“Oh, Finnvid,” Imogen said in a little exasperation. “I told you that we’d wait a bit to talk to Papa.”
“I waited,” Finnvid protested.
“You wish to wed a ghost?” Nikola finally asked, looking hard at Imogen.
“Well…” She made a vague gesture. “I’m not getting any younger, and…er…he’s right, we do hit it off quite well, although I don’t think he needed to mention the ale wenches quite so much. So, yes, I think I’d like to marry him, and that way, I won’t be de trop when Benedikt and Fran are around, and now, of course, you and Io. You don’t mind, do you?”
“I have consonants in my name,” I protested. “I just don’t use them very much.”
“You do not use them at all,” Nikola corrected. “I spoke to you about that, but you took offense and struck me.”
“I did not hit you! I barely touched you. And besides, you deserved it, you were being obnoxious about my name, not to mention you kept sneaking peeks at my boobs.” I stopped, and cleared my throat. “But that’s not here or there. You go right ahead and do your fatherly thing.”
“What fatherly thing?”
“Whatever it is fathers do when a Viking ghost asks to marry their daughter.” Nikola just stared blankly at me. I slapped my hands on my thighs. “Well, how do I know what that is? I’m not a father!”
“They wish to name a child after you. I believe that involves you in the marriage negotiations,” he countered.
“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not getting me involved in whatever bizarro historical thing dads did in your day. Dowries, wasn’t that it? Didn’t you dower your daughters when they got married?”