Munro (Immortals After Dark #18) by Kresley Cole

FORTY-NINE





            “Let’s drink!” Ellie said as she led Ren through the castle to a set of winding stairs.

            Munro hadn’t wanted to separate from Ren, certainly not to go play pool with Lothaire, but the queen had decreed a GNI—girls’ night in, “no boys allowed.”

            Ren was surprised Munro had allowed her out of his sight, even if she was only going to a different part of a guarded and fortified castle in a hidden realm.

            “We’ll head to my salon,” the queen told her. “I think that’s just a fancy way of saying couch lair. Balery will be up after she finishes a potion.”

            “Potion?”

            “She’s not just an oracle, she’s a concoctioness. She makes all kinds of potions.” Ellie paused on the steps. “Oh, be careful not to touch her skin. It’s poisonous.” She continued up the stairs, as if she’d mentioned something trivial, like, Don’t comment on her new haircut.

            For all the species Ren had encountered in the forest, she’d never seen a poisonous fey before. “I’ll be on guard.” Reminded that she was in a new pond and the water was deep, she adjusted her knife holster.

            When they reached the highest floor in a castle spire, a large room spread out before them. Atop a plush rug, sofas made an L shape, and fires in two hearths burned. One entire wall opened to the night.

            Ellie waved at the opening. “That’s the great thing about a kingdom with no rain.” She sauntered behind a bar. “What can I get you to drink?”

            “I don’t know a lot about royalty, but I’m fairly certain you shouldn’t be getting me anything.”

            Ellie laughed. “Leo wants me to have servants tracing about at my beck and call, but ‘indolent rich’ is not my scene.” Her scene? “I grew up poor as dirt, and I like doing for myself. So, I’m having a blood margarita, which is probably not your scene. What’s your drink?”

            Anything but blood. Ren imagined consuming it to live and grew queasy. “Do you have brandy?”

            “Yep. Cop a squat.” At Ren’s confused look, Ellie pointed to the sofas. “Get comfy. Comfortable.”

            Ren had to step around what looked like toys. “You have children?”

            “Hoo! I’m not even eating food of the earth yet.”

            “Pardon?”

            “Oh, vampire females have to eat food to be fertile. Leo and I are holding off on kids until the Accession passes. Those are my little brother’s toys. He comes over to visit all the time. Leo spoils that boy so bad,” she said with a smile. “What about you? Got any plans for kids?”

            “None at present.” She’d never felt a bone-deep craving for children—not until she’d feared she couldn’t have them as a replica. Or maybe she craved Munro’s children.

            Each night that he and Ren had camped in the forest, he’d shown her photographs on his phone—some of his twin, who looked like a defeated version of Munro, and many of his wards, Rónan and Benneit.

            But a random picture had struck Ren intensely: one of a packmate’s toddler perched upon Munro’s shoulders. The adorable little girl, with her dark hair and golden eyes, could’ve been his daughter. . . .

            “You called children pups,” Ren said, “so I pictured something more wolven.”

            “The beast is all but latent for the first several years of life. Pups look like wee humans. But they’re much stronger, o’ course. Better senses too.” He grinned fondly at the picture. “I love bairns. How they think. How they feel everything so passionately. They are a reminder for older immortals to view life with a fresh eye.”

            Gazing at that smile of his, all of a sudden Ren understood exactly what a biological clock was. But to have children, she would need not to be a virgin. . . .

            When Ren sat, Ellie traced over to hand her a glass, then took the couch across from her with her own drink: something that looked like watery blood. Her glass was oddly shaped, the rim coated in white crystals.

            Ellie said, “The salt brings the tequila and blood together in a surprising way.”