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“So are you ready to go all Bonnie and Clyde with me?” Dalcour says with a broad smile as his almond-shaped crimson eyes beam with hopefulness.
“Bonnie and Clyde?” I reply, taking a step back so as not to linger in his luring scent. “More like Queen and Slim or Jay and Bey, don’t you think—yeah, let’s go with Jay and Bey! The others don’t end too well,” I tease.
“You’re right!” Dalcour laughs as he stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans down toward me. “Damina,” he whispers. “I’ve got a little secret.”
“What is it?” I question, curious.
“I’ve kind of envied Cedric and his wife Abigail from afar,” Dalcour reveals as I watch the pair look over weapons with Lux and Brae.
“Really? Why?” I’m surprised. Dalcour doesn’t strike me as one to envy anyone.
“Well, they’ve always had that power couple type of vibe. You don’t see it much in our world, but their love is the stuff of legend. It’s the kind everyone wants.”
“Everyone?”
“That is, only if I can have it with you,” Dalcour answers sweetly. “Look, I know you still feel stuck between me and Jackson, but I am not going to stop campaigning for what we have. Because I think what we have is more than a legend—I think it’s so much more. Don’t you?”
“Dal, I—I don’t—”
“It’s okay, Beautiful,” Dalcour says softly, placing his finger on my lips. “You don’t have to make a choice right now. But I am not going to stop reminding you how I feel. Besides, it’s obvious Jackson isn’t shying away from his affection. Though, I can’t say I blame him. I’m just hoping tonight you’ll finally see what is possible for us—the type of life we can have. Together.”
“Lord Marchand,” I hear Abigail’s voice call from behind Dalcour.
My, am I glad for her interruption. Had she delayed a second longer, I have no doubt Dalcour’s lips would be locked with mine. I am already torn between Jackson and Dalcour. I don’t think my heart could take him kissing me right now.
Dalcour maintains his posture, leaning over me. If I could read his mind, I know he’s likely contemplating whether to crush his mouth to mine. A small smirk lingers at the corners of his supple raspberry-coated lips and my eyes dance with desire as I gawk at the sexy curling of his mustache against his glistening pecan skin.
Get a hold of yourself, Damina.
“Lord Marchand,” Abigail says once more.
Winking at me, Dalcour quickly turns to face Abigail but reaches back to grab my arm, pulling me to his side. “Yes, I’m sorry, Abigail. How can I help you?”
“My apologies for the interruption, my lord. I was wondering if I could go see Jerrica before we set off. Lux is going to talk to his contact. I’ll just be a minute,” Abigail says with a warm smile that meets her eyes.
“Yes, but first I’d like you to formally meet the Lady Damina Nicaud.”
“Of course, where are my manners!” She exclaims. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Damina. I have heard nothing but good things,” Abigail says, extending her gloved leather hand to me.
“No apologies needed, Abigail. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”
“You two get to know one another. Let me check with Charlotte and Zamora to see if she’s up for visitors,” Dalcour says and quickly exits down the hall.
Abigail and I stare at one another for a few awkward moments until her eyes flutter as a tender smile graces her lightly painted lips. “I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but I guess I pictured you differently. You know the way everyone talks about you, I thought you’d be more deity-like. You know, standoffish.”
“Oh, really? Me?”
Abigail laughs and the strong lines in her face softens. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad. I suppose I only thought that because I assumed it would take a cavewoman of sorts to tame Lord Marchand.”
“No cavewoman here,” I laugh in response.
“Well, whatever you are doing to him—thank you. It’s good to see him smile. You make him happy.”
“How long have you and Cedric been married,” I respond, pushing past Abigail’s sentiment.
Her eyes fall slightly, but she smiles when Cedric comes to her side.
“Almost two hundred years,” Cedric answers with a broad smile. “And forever left to go!”
“Wow! I think that is the longest marriage I’ve ever heard of!”
“It’s more common than you think. Divorce stats are quite low among our kind. Once we pledge our fidelity it kind of sticks from there,” Cedric states.
“I’m sorry, Abigail,” Dalcour calls from behind us. “Charlotte says now isn’t a good time. She’s trying to get her to eat a little. Maybe when we get back.”
“Of course, no problem. We can certainly check back later, Lord Marchand. Thank you,” Abigail replies. She offers me a smile as she and Cedric head to the front door as Lux waits on the other side of the threshold.
“Damina, darling,” Aunt Delia calls from the doors of the parlor. “I’ve asked Vonnie to stay behind with me and Dranoel. Since Charlotte is tending to Jerrica and everyone else is out.”
Vonnie stands near my aunt, but her eyes tell me if I only said the word, she’d be right on our heels.
“It’s not a problem, Aunt Delia. Vonnie, please keep watch on things here. Thanks!”
Vonnie nods her head in reply and turns to go into the parlor with my aunt and Dranoel, leaving Dalcour and I in the foyer. Before we leave, I tug his arm, turning his attention back to me.
“Yes, Beautiful,” Dalcour answers with a sly smile. While he likely thinks I want to pick up where we almost left off, he’s wrong.
“Um, did you go see Jerrica?”
Dalcour’s eyes quickly fall at my words and his posture instantly stiffens.
“No. I called Charlotte. Why?” He replies in a flat and grubby tone.
“Well, when was the last time you’ve seen her? Dal, she’s not doing well, but I’m sure she’d appreciate a visit from you.”
“Look, Damina, we don’t need to get into this now,” Dalcour says, spinning on his heel toward the door.
Speeding past him, I am in front of the door in an instant, blocking his exit. “Dalcour Marchand, can you answer me, please? What are you afraid of? Why haven’t you seen your friend?”
“Damina, we really don’t have time for this right now!”
“Then just tell me! Jerrica is your friend, Dalcour.”
“I know exactly who she is, Damina.”
“Look, I didn’t want to do this. I—I’m probably not the one who should do this, but here it goes. Dalcour, Jerrica is more than your friend. She cares for you—deeply. More than that she’s in lo—”
“I know, Damina. I know.” Dalcour’s head dips low as he speaks and his shoulders hunch inward.
“You do?” I ask, puzzled. “How? I thought Jerrica said she never told you.”
“No, you’re right. She never told me—but—” Dalcour taps on his forehead and purses his lips tight.
“You heard her thoughts?”
“It wasn’t intentional, but yes. Anyway, Damina one thing you’ll find is Altrinions aren’t too keen on death. We don’t embrace it like humans. In my long lifetime, I’ve seen too many die. It is not a pretty picture. And in instances where it doesn’t have to be, it’s even harder,” Dalcour’s words fade as he speaks, and I can see the hurt in his face and the glassy waterfall forming behind his crimson eyes.
“What do you mean—it doesn’t have to be?”
“Jerrica hasn’t had human blood in over a century. It’s bad enough she was stabbed by Claudia with an Obsidian blade—a Mercy—but without human blood her body cannot regenerate. I went in to see her on the first day and she refused to drink. Zamora’s only feeding her goat and pig blood. She’ll never survive on that crap. At this point, it’s only delaying the inevitable. And I have no desire to see my best friend be captive to a slow and agonizing death.”
“Dal, I understand—well at least I get what you’re saying, but she’s your friend. Even more, if it weren’t for Jerrica, I know the two of us would have never met. We owe her! I’ll go with you if you need, but just please promise me you’ll see her.”
“Look, we really need to get going but I promise I’ll think about it. That is, if you go with me,” Dalcour answers, forcing a small smile.
“Of course, I’ll go with you, Dal.”
“Good,” Dalcour replies, widening his smile and taking my hand in his. “That’s why after all this crap is over, we’ll get you started on human blood right away. I refuse to let her fate be yours,” Dalcour huffs as he gently yanks me through the doors of the mansion.
He doesn’t leave room for my response, but I can’t help thinking about his assertion. Since my awakening, I have given little thought to how things actually work in this world—his world. But I know one thing.
I have no intention of drinking blood.
Human or otherwise.