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Outside of New Orleans

Mina had once sneaked a peek at explicit illustrations of satyrs and concluded their anatomymustbe exaggerated.

Not so!

As those creatures chased laughing nymphs through the forest, their pendulous penises bobbed along like jaunty walking sticks.

Once Mina caught her mortified breath, she turned to King Lothaire, who stood within her camouflaging mist. “Uncle, th-this is obscene!” She blushed furiously.

“You’ve never seen a forest lech at full tilt?” He gazed at them with amusement, the fiery red of his eyes a striking contrast to his pale skin and light-blond hair. “The Lore teems with them.”

“No, I haven’t. Not in real life, anyway,” she hastily added to avoid the lie. A handful of other types of Loreans made their home in the vampiric kingdom of Dacia, but not aforest lech. “I’ve never seen most of this outside of a book.”

When Lothaire had first teleported her to the edge of this forest, she’d gazed up at the wide-open sky. “Stars,” she’d whispered in awe.

For all her life, Dacia’s cavern ceiling—the stone sky—had obscured her vision of them. She’d also encountered woods for the first time and a breeze. As it caressed her face, unfamiliar scents had teased her senses and tree limbs had danced, their tiny green sails catching the wind.

Everything was as wondrous as she’d dreamed.

Well, except for the satyr penises.

“I’m surprised you haven’t sneaked outside of the kingdom before,” Lothaire said, his tone making it seem as ifeveryonehad.

Everyone but her. “Not once.” No matter how much she’d longed to.

“You’ve been so sheltered it borders on criminal.” Mina’s family all equatedshelteredwithsafe. “Is it any wonder that you’re shy? Your brother and uncles have turned you into a potential killing machine—nigh unbeatable in the training yard—who all but faints at the odd curse word or stray satyr erection.”

She . . . didn’t disagree. While her skill with a sword was her secret pride, shyness was her not-so-secret shame.

More nymphs gamboled by, nearly running through her mist. Within this cloud, she and Lothaire were as indistinct as air, just as unseen, and their voices unheard.

The half-dressed nymphs melded into trees, hiding from the lusty satyrs. In her studies, Mina had read about those female immortals. They were said to take lovers indiscriminately and live only for revelry and . . . and orgies!

Mina blushed more, burning through her body’s store of blood. “Uncle, where have you taken me? What is my mission?”For months, he’d hinted about sending her into the mortal realm for an important assignment, something to do with the nymphs.

Was Dacian security at risk? Perhaps one of them had garnered secrets Lothaire wanted neutralized.

“We’re near the Tree of Delight, outside of New Orleans. It’s a supernaturally gigantic tree that houses droves of Dryads—tree nymphs. You will observe and learn from them.”

“Learn? From nymphs, Uncle?” Lothaire was her distant relation, but she called him uncle out of kinship and considered him anerraticloved one. She dared to ask him, “Am I here because the shock of a bashful female will amuse you?”

“Likely.” His irises gleamed in the night like a full-blooded Horde vampire’s. Though Dacian law forbade drinking from the flesh, Lothaire had lived among the Horde and delighted in such a taboo. He’d harvested his victims’ memories until his eyes had turned red and he teetered on the tipping point of total madness. “Do not leave your post until I summon you. That is an order from your king,” he said, his voice ringing with finality.

“B-but if I can’t trace back each day, how will I get blood?” In Dacia, fountains of it bubbled, for all to take their fill.

“I’ve made arrangements with Loa the Commercenary. Her emporium is near the French Quarter, which you can locate by following the sound of mortal merriment and the scent of intoxicants. She’s agreed to put a jug on her back porch for any thirsty Dacians who might wander along.”

Like a stray cat? The humiliation! Mina’s first trip to the mortal world, dreamed about for so long, was a mere joke to the callous Lothaire. Dacia’s newly installed regent had been full of dark surprises.

“Return to the kingdom only if an emergency arises,” he said. “If you don’t want to disgrace yourself thusly, and you’re still in trouble, go to Loa for help.”

“M-maybe we should rethink this plan. After all, Mirceo forbade me to leave.” Her brother had informed her,Mark my words, Kosmina Daciano, you will not be leaving this kingdom for centuries to come.Spoken with all the breathtaking confidence of a Dacian prince.

Yet he was away, pursuing his mate, a death demon named Caspion who’d proved reluctant to settle down with a rake like Mirceo. Though her brother could be gone for weeks, she’d written him a missive to smooth things over just in case. But the fact remained . . . “If he discovers I’m gone, he will be livid.”

“So?”