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Silt collected wood, pondering his impulse to provide her heat. But he was exhausted and chilled too.

When he crouched to place kindling, she watched him work. “Your withdrawal symptoms seem to have subsided.”

“Largely.” But the hunger for opium remained. Would it always?

“You’re . . . different now. I noticed it when you showed up at that first wendigo fray.”

“Different how?”

“Well, your eyes aren’t crazed, and you haven’t mentioned cannibalism since the cave.” At his blank look, she said, “Do you not remember your behavior? You told me you’d dine on me.”

Cannibalism had always been a favored threat of his—seemed to unnerve enemies more than a threat to smother them in sand. It’d even been listed on his wanted poster. “I remember you cracking my knee in that cave. Without food or rest, I still haven’t regenerated all the way.”

She hiked one slim shoulder, all but telling him she’d do it again. Harder.

In minutes, he’d wrought flame from friction, and a fire roared. Hidden drafts carried the smoke from the area as he and the vampire sat on the stony ground.

Keeping her weapon close, she raised her delicate hands to the warmth. “For how long have you overly imbibed?”

“Centuries upon centuries.” He’d quit that one time to see if he could defeat his weakness and discovered he couldn’t. Why hadn’t he tried more?

Again the thought struck him:I have no idea who or what I am.He was so unfamiliar withSilt Hareathat he felt like a stranger lived inside him. “I needed something to pass the nights.”

“Couldn’t you have mustered a hobby in all that time?” She reminded him of a mirror positioned in the sun, blinding him with glaring light.

“I’d rather be addicted to opium than to blood. When I quit, I’ll have no lingering effects in my immortal body. But your habit will muddle your mind.”

“If you’re the King of Sand, then why did you struggle to control a handful of it? You say you’ll have no lingering effect, but I think you’re paying for your excesses.”

Losing his sand control in front of this female embarrassed him more than losing his cock control in front of a harem had. “Sorcery renews. Nothing can stamp it out.” Probably not. Without his pipe, he could rebuild his store of power.

“How did you get started with opium anyway?” The growing firelight illuminated the red of her eyes, making him wonder how this princess had gotten her own start. Hunger? Or lust?

He frowned to find his hands clenched. Releasing his grip, he said, “I first tried it in Mesopotamia. They called ithulgil, the joy plant.” It hadn’t enthralled him though—not until he’d been condemned.

“If you escaped Nightside, would you return to it?”

The question of questions. Could he shake its grip for good? “I would prefer not to.”

Her gaze flicked over his face, assessing his truthfulness. “How does your family feel about your habit?”

“I have none.”Good riddance.

“No one you care for back in Poly?”

“Not a soul.” Sequara had been the closest thing he’d had to a confidante. “Sorceri are a solitary species.”

“Solitary? I detected various perfumes on your skin. No fewer than twelve.”

He relaxed back against the cool cavern wall. “I had females in my stronghold.” He hadn’t set out to have such a large harem, but he hadn’t been motivated enough to do something about it.

“You lived with others, but you told me you have no one you care about.”

“Both can be true.” He’d warned them at the outset, “If you develop feelings for me, they will go unanswered.”

Kosmina cast him a look of confusion. She didn’t seem surprised to learn that he’d lived with many women, just that he hadn’t given a damn about any of them.

Defensive, he said, “They fleeced me out of a hoard of gold.” A couple of years ago, he’d awakened from a stupor to find one of his vaults emptied and the lot of them working together to crack the others, which was probably why so many had wanteda position inside his home. He pictured them sending out the word:We’ve got a live one, ladies!