Page 36 of Between Bloode and Death (Between the Shadows #5)

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FIVE

Khent studied his adorable human, thinking her beyond pretty when she glared. Not even trying to look fierce yet making him want to kiss her all over again.

Feeding her felt right, a necessary action from a worthy mate.

In the kitchen, he’d paused when he’d realized how he was acting. He wanted her. He had her and intended on keeping her. At least until she gave birth. Then, unlike the rest of the unnatural vampires in this house, he’d turn her loose once the child entered the world.

When the notion of progeny with Valentine didn’t shock him into horror, he knew he’d found his mate. No thanks to Morpheus, that backstabbing dick. Though Khent conceded some respect to the flighty deity for having the balls to try to trick them.

Seeing Valentine eat the food he’d gotten for her—from the fridge, but he’d fetched it, so that counted—satisfied him to no end.

She watched him as she ate, a slight blush on her cheeks, all her attention where it belonged.

He could tell she’d moved a few things around in his lab. He didn’t mind, mostly because she would have a care with the fragile items. Valentine, like him, was a scholar at heart. She studied death, knew it intimately. As such, she considered matters on a deeper level than most people.

He’d also spotted his salamander on her shoulder, hiding under her hair.

The timid creature made a powerful protector, and he found it just that the fire lizard liked her. To his shock, Khent truly liked her as well. And not just as someone to fuck or feed from. It still bothered him he’d done both at the same time, especially because he wanted to do it again.

But more, he wanted to spend time with his human in his favorite place. Here, in his home.

“Why did you look upset upstairs?” he asked. He’d noticed the downturn of her lips when Mormo had been speaking. “Did the magician upset you? I can rip out his trachea if you’d like.”

She blinked. “Um, no. That’s okay.” After a pause, she added, “You’re kidding, right?”

He smiled.

She swallowed. “Mormo’s fine. He’s been nice to me.”

“Good. Then why did you appear aggrieved?”

“Just promise not to kill him.”

“Kill who?” Point and it shall be done.

“Onvyr. But it wasn’t his fault. He was sad, and I wanted to comfort him.

But when I touched him, he flinched. Like they all do.

” She sighed. “I should be used to it by now. Talon’s the only one who treats me the same, like he doesn’t care that I’m a necromancer.

I keep thinking everyone else will as well. But the shifters don’t.”

“I’m happy to kill them too.”

“No, Khent. No killing. Let’s face it. If I wanted them dead, I’d kill them myself.”

He appreciated that about her. “Fair enough. Their acceptance matters to you?”

“Yes and no.” She toyed with her dessert. “What about you? Do you care that the other vampires fear you?”

“Of course. I expect it.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

He sighed. “Valentine, what do you know about vampires?”

“Enough. I know you guys like killing. That you hate anyone not kin—in your clan. And that you don’t feel fear.”

“All true. Mostly. But stereotypes are just that. We’re all different, each tribe leaning toward certain characteristics.

” Seeing how she hung on his words, he warmed to the topic.

“Reapers, for example, are more solitary than other tribes. Though vampires as a whole don’t fear death, they aren’t as comfortable with it as I am.

I understand it in a way they can’t, because they don’t appreciate the balance that must be maintained. ”

She nodded. “Exactly. It’s not about an end, but a balance that keeps the gaps even. Life for death. Death for life. What happens after the end is a new beginning that keeps the cycle going.”

“Yes. Controlling the dead makes others uncomfortable.” He gave a satisfied smile. “I appreciate that.”

“I do too, kind of. For a long time, I’ve been running.

Humans aren’t like vampires. We fear what we can’t control.

And humans especially fear death. Everyone has wanted to kill me from the time I understood what death was.

” She frowned. “My parents did their best to protect me, but we were running not just from MEC and other magir, but from Vladimir too. He has a thing about stealing necromancer power.”

“And he sought your parents.”

“They were really powerful necromancers. Well, in addition to him.”

“And you. You’re powerful.”

“Mostly because there aren’t many of us left.

It makes me mad and sad at the same time.

” She stared into his eyes, hers so sincere.

“Why should I have to die because other magir are afraid of me? I haven’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.

I never start fights. But I’m tired of running just because I have a power that makes other people uncomfortable. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not right. Fairness is a subjective concept.” He studied her. “Why haven’t you gotten revenge on everyone who’s ever hurt you?”

“Who says I haven’t?”

“Have you?”

She shrugged and toyed with her cheesecake. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not a monster.”

“You say ‘monster’ like it’s a bad thing.”

Her sweet smile startled him, and his heart raced. “You wouldn’t think it was, would you?”

“No. I don’t care what anyone thinks about me. I accept myself for my strengths.”

“And weaknesses?”

He scoffed. “Vampires don’t have weaknesses. Well, reapers don’t.” Pride is your weakness, Nergal had said. But perhaps he should have said that Valentine was his weakness.

While Khent acted like he didn’t care what anyone thought of him, he cared what she thought. How strange.

“I’m weak,” she admitted.

“It’s not your fault you’re human.” He thought that sounded nice.

She chuckled. “That’s not why I’m weak.”

He held his tongue on that one.

“I’m weak because I want revenge on Vladimir. I want to take from him until he’s not just dying but hopeless. I want him to lose everything that ever mattered to him.”

He approved. “And that makes you weak?”

“It makes me vulnerable. I might hesitate to hurt him or take out a target if it might kill me before I’ve achieved my goals. And I worry about Talon, about the shifters.”

“What is Talon to you exactly?”

“He’s my best friend. We lost our families together. We were young when Vladimir came and killed them all. He lost his parents and his mate.” She looked sad, and he didn’t like it.

“You’ve been running ever since?”

“Running and working to get strong. I had to stay a step ahead of Vladimir while getting more power. I can’t kill him if I’m feeble with my magic.”

“True. So you came to us.”

“No. You forced me here. I’m gathering an army to take him out.

I finally tracked him down to Seattle. He’s been here for two years now.

But he’s been plotting as well. First it was with that sorcerer that died in the marketplace a few months back.

Except it turns out the sorcerer was just a small part of what Vladimir is after. ”

“And what do you think that is?”

“Well, the consensus is that Nergal wants life. That’s understandable having been to Irkalla.

” She shuddered. “But Vladimir? He’s got all the life he wants.

That’s not his endgame. More power? A kingdom to rule?

Magir to worship him? I don’t know. And I should know after studying and trailing him for years.

But he’s still a mystery. It’s super annoying. ”

“You should get a revenant on it. When you need answers, they’re the ones to go to.”

“What about you?”

“Me?” He flashed his fangs at her in appreciation, that she would seek help from him. “I’m the one who can help you with your magic. No one around here knows death better than me. Well, perhaps with the exception of Hecate. But she’s always busy.”

“Not too busy to talk with my favorite death mages,” Hecate said as she appeared before them.

Her gradual presence didn’t alarm Valentine, but Khent wished the goddess would stop popping in unannounced.

He frowned.

She held up her hands, an older woman with dark hair and dark skin, her eyes slightly tilted, her hair in several braids that came to her back, dressed in a long caftan that showed off her lithe build. She reminded him of the priestesses at Set’s temple from long ago.

“Peace, reaper. I need to talk to you two. Please, come with me.” She walked them out of the laboratory and down the hall, past their gaming center into a foggy area that soon filled with voices from many different places.

The fog dissipated, and he looked around at a speakeasy filled with denizens from all over, crowded in Hecate’s Crossroads. The intersection had taken the shape of a grand tavern done in sophisticated colors of deep red, mahogany, navy, and royal purple, lit by the dim shine of fae lights.

Low techno music filled the air, a change from the jazz she often played.

The scent of blood and faeberries mingled to create a pleasing buffet, adding to the tasty aggression building between several frost giants by one of the bar lengths.

In the center of the room, clusters of bar tables had been positioned, while around the outer areas tables with booths filled as dead waitstaff took orders.

A centaur clopped by, arguing with a light elf while a dwarf glared at them both, palming a heavy ax in his hands. Then a pony-sized wolf trotted by, his tongue out, laughing at the lycans about to throw down near Aphrodite. Or was that Venus? They looked the same to him.

Valentine slipped her hand in his and squeezed. “What is this place?”

“Welcome to the Liminality,” Hecate said with a wink. “You guys thirsty? I’m buying. How about a drink?”