Free Pleasure of a Dark Prince by Kresley Cole Page B

her trap, as meticulous as ever. Though she could motivate people and was a legendary strategist, she was never supposed to be leader of their coven—the missing Valkyrie queen Furie was.
    Once Annika had buzzed past them, Regin said, “Things are getting intense around here, eh, Luce? With the vemon attacks—”
    “Dempire,” Nïx corrected, glancing up from her palm. “Demon vampire equals dempire , not vemon.”
    Regin shook her head hard. “Which sounds so lame. Say it in a sentence, Nïx. ‘I got my ass kicked by a dempire.’ Forget it! Vampire demon. Ve—mon .”
    “You’re taking this stance just to be contrary,” Nïx sniffed.
    In truth, things were getting intense. The Valkyrie were on red alert. They’d hired the Wraiths, the Ancient Scourge, to protect Val Hall. That measure was drastic, but the vampire demon had shaken them.
    Vemons were supposed to be truly mythical. The one they’d faced had been nearly invincible, which made them wonder how a creature like that had come to be— and how many more of them existed. They’d known Ivo was up to something nefarious.
    “And now the long-lost werewolf king is in play as well,” Regin said, tossing up her dagger.
    Lucia herself had spoken to Lachlain, the werewolf king. That long-distance call had been so surreal, for more than one reason. She’d been standing in a room full of Valkyrie, and neither they, nor Lachlain, had any idea she’d been with his brother mere days ago, occupied with—oh, how had Garreth put it?— riding his crotch like a wanton as she sucked his tongue.
    As the “reasonable” one in the coven, Lucia had entreated Lachlain to release Emma. He’d refused. She’d asked him to be gentle with her. He hadn’t sounded capable of gentle.
    At least he hadn’t seemed to want to hurt Emma— and he had protected her from a vampire search party, killing the three who’d come for her.
    Annika’s own attempts to further negotiate with Lachlain had ended with his roared “She’s mine!” and Annika’s chilling vow to go hunting for “Celts’ pelts.”
    Afterward, everyone in the coven had voiced disgust for the Lykae, calling them dogs, animals, or worse, sub human . Making Lucia’s guilt mount. Aside from her own personal reasons, she simply had no business being with a Lykae.
    Regin leaned in. “Luce, what’s really going on with you?”
    “I just think this is a bad idea.” She plucked her bowstring faster.
    “He’s an animal. One hunt among many.”
    But that “animal” had used his unimaginable strength and ferocity to save their lives. Another example of how different he was from Cruach.
    Lowering her voice, Regin said, “We keep secrets from everyone else— not from each other. I know you’re holding back from me. Haven’t I proved that I’m a vault where your secrets are concerned?”
    Guilt flared. “Yes, always.” This was too true, and besides, could anything be as shameful as Cruach? “Look, in a moment of temporary insanity, I might have… MacRieve and I”—she paused, then added in a rush— “we might have fooled around a little.”
    Regin’s glowing skin paled. “What?”
Remaining away from Lucia had taken everything in Garreth. He needed to ease her pain from the night of the vampire attack, was frenzied to slaughter more of their kind for her.
    Never had he seen a being in agony like his mate after she’d missed a shot. When he’d stormed into Val Hall, she’d been curled on the floor, writhing with her fingers knotted.
    Gazing up at me in horror. He was desperate to erase that image of himself, to remind her how he normally looked. But the Instinct warned him to take it slowly with her. —She will run. Be cautious.—
    So he’d been shadowing her, camping in the bayou near Val Hall. As long as Ivo, Lothaire, and that demon vampire remained at large, still looking for a specific Valkyrie, Garreth refused to leave the area, not even to return to the Lykae compound.
    Leaving behind