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“Favorable light? Ha!” Runa scoffed. “Then maybe he shouldn’t have selected his competitors from the realm’s dungeons.”

“But who else among us would have the most reason to survive, representing Carcerem’s undying spirit?” Milani asked, her expression bordering on fanatic. Another one of Idris’s fans, no doubt.

I met Runa’s eyes. With that look, we held a wordless conversation. Both of us agreeing—the servant’s ignorance was astounding.

At the realization that we’d begun to speak without speaking, an act reserved for those who were far more intimate, spiders crawled through my insides. While I’d admit I found the sorceress attractive, she was merely a means to an end. The tool that would enable my return home.

“Fine garments, lavish bathhouses—these kinds of luxuries are wasted on criminals,” I informed them.

Runa snorted an inelegant sound, then turned a gaze of longing to the heated pool before us. “Shut up, vampire. Though tomorrow we may perish, tonight welive.”

I imagined the little thief had never experienced such luxury. I scoffed, turning to express as much, only to find Milani helping the sorceress disrobe.

Cultured gentleman that I was, I failed to notice how the servant drew the coarse tunic over the sorceress’s head, revealing her lean torso and creamy expanse of flesh. The way her generous breasts swelled over the top of the plain fabric band containing them. I also paid no mind when her leggings soon followed, sliding down her shapely thighs. Thighs that were toned from her time on a horse and yet still supple. Nor did I care about the simple undergarments she wore, the coarse fabric cut high enough to bare her generous cheeks.

Sweat trickled down my temple, my blood heating. Did they have to keep it so warm in here?

“Master Custodis?” I blinked as if awakening from a trance to find Milani standing before me. The reality of my actions struck me. What was I doing? Ogling the chit was beneath me. What was I, an animal? I looked up, noting others appreciating the same sight.

Filthy ingrates. Perhaps I’d pluck their eyes from their skulls. Deep in my chest, a low rumble emerged. I tensed at the odd show of emotion. Was that a…growl? Surely not. It was this place. It was doing something to me. While I struggled to unravel my reaction, Runa waded into the water.

“Shall I assist you?” Milani asked.

“Quickly,” I ordered, not wanting to let Runa out of my sight. Who knew what kind of mischief the sorceress might find without my supervision?

In moments, Milani had me out of my sandy clothing. UnlikeRuna, I stripped down to bare skin. Why not? My physique was flawless. Despite all the battles I’d fought over the years, not a single scar marred my flesh.

Liquid warmth encased my toes. I stepped deeper into the pool, taking a moment to note Runa’s direction.

Our eyes collided. The sorceress’s gaze slid over me in a heated caress. Across my chest, down my defined abs, then lower to my stiffening shaft, which seemed to have developed a mind of its own.

Traitorous bastard. My body reacted as if she’d reached out and stroked me.

Smirk pulling at her full lips, Runa raised her eyes to mine and quirked a challenging brow.

A challenge my cock was all too eager to answer. What the hell was with this place? Was there something in the water? My control was better than this. I hurried deeper until the water covered my hips.

Runa led the way to a small alcove and submerged herself in the steaming bath. Bubbles shot from the walls, and I sat beside her. Jets pummeled my back, relaxing my muscles. Elbows propped on the ledge behind her, Runa let out a moan.

Twitch. Twitch.

Curse my rebellious shaft.

“By the fates, that’s delightful,” she purred. “I believe I have sand in places I didn’t know existed.”

I clenched my jaw, refusing to notice the way her position thrust out her breasts.

When I failed to respond, she angled me a glance. “Why so tense, vampire? Worried you’ll be sullied by the bathwater of honest criminals?”

“Honest,” I snorted.

She narrowed her catlike eyes. “Not everything is as it appears on the surface, you know. Aristocrats are always so quick to judge.”

“Or perhaps things are exactly as they seem. Lie, steal, cheat, plunge a knife into someone’s heart, you’re a criminal.”

“And you’ve never lied, stolen, cheated, or killed?”

I fought a smile. “Never.”