He lifted her from the bed, setting her on her feet, then began leading her to the bedroom door though she was naked.

"I need to put on a nightgown!"

"No one's here."

"Lachlain! I'm not walking around willy-nilly naked. Okay?"

His lips curled as if he found her modesty endearing. "Then go put on the silk I'll soon be ripping from you. You've no respect for your clothing."

She glowered, crossed to her dresser, and chose a gown. When she turned back, she found he'd slung on a pair of jeans. She'd realized that about him - he'd begun trying to make her feel more comfortable. Of course, he still often insisted that she "stretch herself."

He led her downstairs, then past the gallery, until they approached what had to be the end of the castle. There he covered her eyes with his hands, leading her into a room that felt moist and smelled decadent and lush. When he removed his hands, she gasped. He'd taken her to an ancient solarium, but now the light it captured was the moon's, illuminating all that grew within.

"Flowers. Blooming flowers," she breathed, staring in disbelief. "A night garden."

Emma turned to him, bottom lip trembling. "For me?"

Always for you. All things for you. He coughed into his fist. "All your own."

"How did you know?" She ran to him, leaping up into his arms. As she hugged him tightly - she really was getting to be a strong wee lass - she whispered her thanks in his ear, with little teasing kisses, easing the empty, feral desperation still clinging to him. He'd been stunned to realize how convinced she was that they would end.

After last night and today, he'd hoped their bond had been cemented. For his part, he was lost for her. Yet she dared envision a future without him? When she scrambled down, he reluctantly released her.

He simply had to use every means at his disposal to convince her. As she flitted back and forth among the plants, gently skimming her fingertips down the slick leaves, he wanted to convince her right then and there. When she brought one bloom to her lips and brushed it over them, closing her eyes in bliss, his gut tightened with want. He forced himself to lie back on a long chair, but felt like a voyeur as he watched her.

She crossed to a marble counter lining one of the glass walls and stood on tiptoe against it to reach the hanging plants strung above. Her short shift rose with each of her reaches, flashing him glimpses of her white thighs until he could take it no longer.

He stalked up behind her to clench her hips, and she stilled.

In a breathy voice, she asked, "You're going to make love to me again, aren't you?"

In answer, he lifted her onto the counter, tore off her shift, then pressed her naked body back into the blooms.

28

So I'm, uh, like a queen now."

"All hail Queen Emma!" Nïx cheered. "Is your coronation the reason you couldn't call for five days?"

"Or perhaps it was being hung up on repeatedly the last time I tried?" Emma didn't mention that two days ago she had called and found Nïx wasn't lucid. "Besides, I'm serious," Emma said, shaking her nail polish bottle. The color was I'm Not Really a Waitress red.

"So am I. And who are your people? Hopefully not all the other vampire Valkyries, or you'll have no one to tax. Or are they the Lykae?"

"Yep, I'm like queen of the Lykae." She hopped onto the bed, then stuffed cotton between her toes. "Aren't you going to congratulate me for fulfilling my destiny?"

"Hmmm. How do you feel about it?"

At the surprise fluttering of disappointment, Emma accidentally painted a stripe on her toe. She frowned, feeling as if she should have done something. As it was, her fate was no more than a quirk of the same. A quirk that had made her the queen of someone great. "I went from co-ed to queen. I'd have to be happy, right?"

"Uh-huh," Nïx said in a noncommittal tone.

"So is Annika there?"

"Nope. Out working on, er, a pet project."

"How's she taking this?"

"Luckily, she's up to her ears with work. Otherwise she'd be more of a wreck since 'a dog has her Emma.' "

Emma winced. "Will you not tell her that I'm here voluntarily?"

"Right. She'll believe that over the other options. A. You're delusional. B. He's terrified you into submission."

Emma exhaled, then said, "What's going on around the coven?" She hoped Nïx could talk for a while.

Since Lachlain had king stuff to do - land disputes, punishments for bad behavior, overarching improvements for the region - Emma had time, even day time. They'd discovered that, like Lachlain, she now needed only four or five hours of sleep in a twenty-four-hour span.

Though the nights were for them alone - each sunset they sent everyone away so they could have the run of Kinevane, literally - the days could get boring. He'd been concerned about that and had asked her if she could content herself by "buying goods via the computer." She'd batted her eyelashes up at him and answered, "I'll endeavor for you."

"You're far too far behind, Em," Nïx said. "You'll never catch up with this soap."

"Come on, gimme dish."

Nïx sighed and Emma heard her shaking her own polish. The Valkyrie loved painting their nails, since it was the only way they could semipermanently change their appearance.

Polish shaking meant Nïx was settling down for a long talk. This afternoon Lachlain was taking a break from meeting with Lykae and the Lore creatures that seemed to surround Kinevane and the village in droves, but only to read numerous abstracts on the computer. He abhorred the computer, and his big hands, which were so skilled with her, were clumsy on the keyboard. He was on his third one.




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