Munro (Immortals After Dark #18) by Kresley Cole

            Ellie’s face fell. “We’re hearing some disturbing rumors, Kereny. When Leo bargained with an immortal, they would be mad as a hornet that they owed him, but in the end, they got what they wanted. Rumor has it that no one is getting what they want with Dorada. More like twisted versions of their wishes.”

            As if Ren needed another reason to vanquish the sorceress.

            “When Balery gets here, she can roll the bones for you and see what your future holds.”

            “I’d really appreciate it.” To have her fortune told by someone who could actually see the future would be a novel experience. “And please call me Ren.” She was hitting it off with a vampire!

            “I knew I was gonna like you! Cheers, Ren!” Ellie traced over so they could clink glasses. “How do you think the guys are doing? I mean, what would they even have to talk about? I’d love to be a fly on the wall. . . .”





FIFTY





            “Shall we disembowel the pachyderm in the room?” Lothaire intoned as he took a seat in the billiards den. “Or discuss it? Or whatever one does when an elephant appears indoors.” He sipped his glass of blood mead.

            “Come again?” Munro sat across from the king and took a swig of whiskey. He was antsy to separate from Kereny, and Lothaire’s all-seeing demeanor kept him on edge. “Elephant?”

            “The fact that you also came here to help Kristoff with his”—Lothaire made air quotes—“‘escape.’”

            Even if Munro hadn’t been warned not to lie to Lothaire, he didn’t see the point of it. The vampire was too clever. “Aye. We can talk about that.”

            When a mangy-looking dog strutted into the room to sit beside Lothaire, he absently petted it. “Lachlain sent you here on a mission, no? Those Forbearers have become strong allies to the Lykae. Your king would want to reward them by rescuing Kristoff.” Exactly what Lachlain had told him.

            Munro figured an ambassador ought to distance his king and preserve the relationship between the two rulers. After all, an ambassador could be replaced. “The Forbearers believe you keep Kristoff here as a prisoner; I wanted to check for myself.”

            “Did you see any chains on him?”

            “Mayhap your fey magic tinkerer bound his teleportation?”

            “He’s here by choice,” Lothaire said. “As I’m unable to lie, you know that’s the truth. But feel free to ask him.”

            “I’ll do that.”

            “Undertaking such a rescue mission with your female in tow is a risk,” Lothaire observed. “I stowed mine whenever I went to the office. And by to the office, I mean off killing. But she ended up tagging along with me once. Her mortal mind broke when she saw monsters from the Lore for the first time. More specifically, when she saw monsters other than myself.”

            “Broke?”

            “She went catatonic. Humans do that, you know. In just the last year, Lizvetta was the second case I have personal knowledge of. We were fortunate she pulled through. Once broken, some things can’t be fixed.”

            What if Kereny came through her physical change to another species without a hitch, but then went catatonic? Over their days in the Cursed Forest, she’d told him that the universe spoke to anyone who listened. Had the universe just waved its arms over its head, warning Munro?

            Lothaire asked, “What are you thinking about so deeply that you’ve pulled the muscle of your wolven brain? Now we’re even more mismatched intellectually. At least Kristoff keeps me on my toes.”

            “Have you always been this big a pain in the arse?”

            “No. But I became a master at it with diligent practice,” he said proudly. “You must be consumed with thoughts about your mate’s mortality. I mused about little else before I turned the ring.”

            “A turn of the ring?” Could it be that simple? “What was the exact wording you used?”

            “I wished for my Bride to become a vampire, with all of the strengths of that species and none of the weaknesses.”

            Munro couldn’t believe he was about to ask for Lothaire’s advice, but . . . “What language would you use if you were me?”