“But I’m immune to everything in you.” She turned his question back on him: “Why should we expect your semen to be different?”
“Would you take that risk? If there’s an infinitesimal chance you’re mine, there’s a chance you could die in agony.”
“I’m immune to you; you’re delectable to me. Seems we’re compatible, huh?”
He was either surprised or frustrated by her blasé attitude, or both. “There’s more. After giving you seed you might not survive, the demon in me would need to mark your neck with a bite, forever signaling to other males you’re taken.”
So that was what Desh had mentioned. “It’d be like getting a tattoo? You have tattoos—I want one!”
“No, no, it’s not like that.” Definitely frustrated. “It would be invisible to all but demons.”
She pouted. “I wouldn’t be able to see my own tatt?”
“Will you let me get to my point? I would sink my fangs—also lethal—deep into your flesh. Could you withstand so much poison in your body? What if the effect is cumulative?”
“You’d screw me, come in me, and bite my neck? You just described my dream date.” She shivered. “So what will I do?”
He shot another glass. “Females climax from a demon’s bite.”
“Sign. Me. Up.”
He was getting agitated. When he poured more of his drink, some sloshed over the rim. “Why would I go seven thousand years without a mate? What’s your explanation? I’ll tell you mine: because it was never going to happen anyway. You can’t change my thinking on this. I’ve had eons to accept my fate.”
“It’s because I wasn’t born yet, sport.” She poked his chest with her forefinger. “I just arrived on the scene twenty-five years ago. Plus, it’s an Accession. You said Loreans find mates around those times. So while seven thousand years sounds bad, in truth I’ve only missed the first thirteen Accessions of your life.”
He swallowed.
Boo-yah. “Hadn’t thought about it that way, huh?”
“You truly believe you’re mine?”
“Yep.”
He stared her down. “I guarantee you’re not.”
She nodded with understanding. “Because I’m Desh’s? I guess I could have my dream date with him.”
Rune ground his teeth until a muscle ticked in his wide jaw.
The host returned with a tray of food then, serving two large bowls. Each had a big noodle folded into it with vegetables on top. It smelled appetizing, and poor Rune was going to need his strength tonight.
“Go on and eat. I’ll still be your mate in twenty minutes.”
FORTY-TWO
“I’m gonna go out on a limb here,” Josephine began grandly as they strolled along a terrace, “and make a blanket statement. I like alcohol.” She swerved, so Rune put his arm around her.
He might’ve given her a jot too much. She’d had two more draws from his finger. “I think I’ve created a monster.” At least she was prepped for questioning.
“That blood mead you mentioned? Completely down with trying it. Hey, been thinking about phantoms . . .”
She’d asked him myriad things about her species, but he’d had little information to give her.
In all seriousness, she said, “If a phantom has an orgasm, is it a phantasm?”
He grinned. “I’m certain of it.”
She craned her head up, coming to a stop. “Look at the stars. I love stargazing.”
“Have you ever flown on a plane?” Over dinner, she’d admitted she’d never been out of the American South.
“Uh-uh.”
“Then at this altitude, you’re closer to the stars than you’ve ever been.”
Her red lips curled. But then her brows drew together. “Wasn’t there another time . . . ?”
“Another time?”
“Aren’t they tempting? Maybe I’ll float up to them.” She reached up as if she could touch them. “They’re mine. I saw them first.”
“What do you mean?”
“ ’S nothing.” Josephine faced him again. “Where are you taking me?” Arm draped over her shoulders, he led her down a stone path. “I told you. It’s a surprise.” He lifted his face to the wind but scented no Loreans on this mountain. He heard no Orea. Time for questions. “I’m curious about something. How could you not know what you are? Did you never know your parents?”
“I don’t know.”
Even drunk, she was going to stonewall him? “You either knew them or you didn’t.”