McKell noticed her upset and sighed. "Do not judge them too harshly. You exhibited signs of

the"—he leaned forward, and when he next spoke, he whispered as if what he said was a curse —"nefreti."

A grim shudder swept through her. "What's that?" she found herself whispering back. An Egyptian queen?

His lips thinned, as if even thinking of it were painful to him. "They are vampires who are far more powerful than anyone should be. Rather than have a single extraordinary ability, as is customary, they have all extraordinary abilities. They are uncontrollable, unstoppable, and because of that they are deemed a threat to the royal family, to everyone really, and killed the moment they are recognized."

Devyn palmed one of those wooden daggers he'd taken to the auction before the last word left the warrior's mouth. He tossed it in the air, as if he hadn't a care. "I don't think it needs to be said that if you touch her, I'll slice you from end to end."

"So suspicious." McKell shook his head. Thankfully he didn't erupt at the sight of that weapon. "I didn't bring her here to kill her. I'm the one who helped send her to the surface, after all, ensuring she lived. Because she had been deemed my bride, I visited her often and already loved her as my own." There at the end, he eyed her expectantly.

"I don't remember you," she admitted. "I don't remember anything about this place."

Another sigh. "No, I don't guess you would. Your mother took the memory of your time here from you, so that you would never return."

So. That's why Bride had had no idea who or what she was. "She could have just told me to stay away. I might have listened."

"We were unwilling to take that chance."

Even knowing it had been done for her own good failed to lessen the sting. She wanted to grab the dagger now resting on Devyn's thigh and stab something.

"Everyone assumes you are dead," McKell said. "As commander of the king's army, I was the one ordered to kill you. Because of my reputation, everyone assumed I would do it. And I meant to. But I couldn't. Even then, you ... affected me. So we branded you, your mother and I, and we sent you to the surface. As I said, she died soon after."

"Of sickness. What kind of sickness? I've never been sick, so I assumed other vampires would never sicken, either."

He shrugged. "Perhaps sickness wasn't the right word. She ... are you sure you wish to know?”

“Yes. And just so you know, I'm about two seconds away from assaulting you for the information." Though it was clear he didn't take her threats seriously, he said, "She died of starvation."

Bride heard the underlying meaning of his words. Her mother had refused to eat. As she clutched her stomach to settle the sudden churning, Devyn pulled her tight against his body. I was loved, after all, she thought. The revelation soothed the hurt she'd been harboring, but also brought a wealth of despair. Her mother had loved her, but had killed herself after sending Bride away.

"I want to remember her," she said softly.

"I'm afraid I cannot help you with that. She didn't just bury your memories; she erased them. That was her ability. And I know what you're thinking. Why didn't she just erase the memory of you from the people here? There are too many people, and each day your powers would have grown. She would have had to remove their memories every day for the rest of your life. One day, she would have missed someone, and word of your presence would have leaked."

She splayed her arms. "If I have all abilities, shouldn't i be able to erase memories? Shouldn't I be able to stop time?"

"One would think so." He arched a brow. "You can't?" She shook her head, wondering if she'd been sent away for nothing. Then she thought of the thorns and the fire.

The place that hurt her to even brush with mental fingers. The place that sprung up with strong emotion. The place that held many other powers.

No, she hadn't been sent away for nothing.

McKell rubbed two fingers over his stubbled jaw. "Your father was able to suppress the powers of others. Perhaps he suppressed some of your more destructive abilities to help you cope with life above."

Her father. A man she couldn't even picture, but a man who had wanted only the best for her. A pang of longing had her swallowing back a whimper.

"What other abilities are there?" Devyn asked.

"Mind reading, for one, which just happens to be the king's ability."

"Mind reading isn't destructive," she said. It was cool. Would have been cooler if she could actually do it. Maybe one day ...

"But then again," McKell said with a shrug, "perhaps not all nefreti can do all things. We've never had the chance to study them because they are destroyed so early. Besides the first few, of course, who showed us their powers when they slayed the last king and disappeared. Well, and Fiona, but she lived on her own for many years before revealing herself. And now that we know of her, we cannot catch her."

Fiona. Bride wanted to meet her, talk to her. "What gives them away? The nefreti, I mean."

"The atomizing. Only a nefreti can do it. You and your mother were shopping one morning as I and my army passed. You were so excited to see me that you ran to me, and as you ran you broke apart, particles forming in your place. You swept the rest of the way to me before putting yourself back together in my arms. Too many people saw, or we would have simply hidden you down here and claimed you had died."

Oh, the horror her mother must have experienced that day. "Do you have a photograph of her?”

“Somewhere. Maybe. Because of your taint, everything she owned was burned." A sudden blast of hate bombarded her as she imagined her mother, her poor, sweet mother, who had just given up her only child to save her, watching all of her belongings being destroyed. "Your king —"

"Thought he was protecting his family," McKell interjected before she could threaten the bastard's life. "He is not a bad man, Bride. Neither am I."

No, he wasn't. Except for his treatment of food, that is. Well, and his bitch-slap to Devyn.

"Darling," Devyn said, his tone pure sugar, "he's trying to court you. Isn't that sweet. I, of course, know you're too smart to soften."

Something clear, yet thicker than saliva, dripped from one of McKell's fangs. Bride would have laid good money on poison.

"Keep pushing me, Targon. See what happens.”

“I will, thank you."

"Should I step out?" Bride said, throwing up her arms in exasperation. "Maybe let you two have some privacy for your pissing contest?"

McKell lost the worst of his anger—she knew, because his fangs dried—and looked to Devyn. "Is she always like this?"

"Yes."

The two nodded at each other in sympathy, the tension broken. What next? Bonding over beers and future conquests? Perfect. Just perfect. You brought this on yourself. She only hoped the king appreciated her finer qualities. Otherwise ... No, she wouldn't think about otherwise. Everything was going to work out.

CHAPTER 22

Is this love? Devyn wondered. He must love her, or he wouldn't willingly be in the dark underground he'd vowed never to return to. A seemingly spacious world, but one he perceived as very cramped. Before and now. But Bride had wanted to come, and he'd been struck with a consuming need to give her what she desired. Even this.

He'd also hoped that if he brought her here, letting her see the vampire way of life, she would realize she could have—and would want—a life with him on the surface. A life with no regrets. Not just days, weeks, or months, as he himself had always assumed. But... forever?

Maybe. He knew he didn't want to let her go. He knew he wouldn't let her be with someone else. He knew no one else appealed to him. And he knew the biggest obstacle to getting what he wanted was McKell.

Obstacles must be eliminated. Always. No matter the method used.

The warrior's solicitousness was throwing him for a loop—not that Devyn trusted the man. Even a little. But damn if he didn't believe the male truly adored Bride. Still. That adoration was irritating. Bride belonged to Devyn. She filled a void inside him that he'd always denied; she made him see that there was a better way to be.

And just when he'd realized it, someone had decided to try and take her away. Figures.

He shouldn't be surprised that McKell hadn't yet struck at him, though. According to Dallas's vision, that would happen at the pier. Unless ... An unsettling thought took root. Because he knew what would happen at the pier, Devyn could very well have changed the future by deciding to come here, thereby forcing McKell to try and stab him in this new location. Shit. He hadn't thought of that when he'd decided taking Bride underground was the best way to acquire the answers she sought while at the same time keeping them together—without a knife in his heart.

McKell can't kill you, he reminded himself. Yet. For the moment, Bride needed his blood. Devyn's hands curled into fists. He didn't like that there was a way to wean Bride from his vein.

Wasn't going to happen.

When they returned home, Devyn planned to take the necessary steps to ensure Bride wanted to stay with him. They'd marry in truth, by Earth standards as well as Targon. He would build an office for her books. Or rather, pay someone to build it. He would purchase a water bed, and he would sleep in it with her.

No longer would he allow his father's voice to speak inside his head, stopping him from claiming his woman. As Bride had said, there was nothing shameful in what they did. The knowledge had never been more real to him. Bride wasn't a whore, as his father would have called her. What she did to Devyn was beautiful; therefore what he did to her was the same. They could be together, be themselves, and still respect each other.

How had he ever convinced himself otherwise?

He didn't want her to change from the smart-mouthed bloodsucker she was. And she clearly didn't want him, flirtatious narcissus that he was, to change. After the auction, she'd almost attacked him. He smiled, remembering.

"You look smug," McKell said with a frown.

Bride faced him. His beautiful Bride. "You do," she said. "What wheels are spinning in your head, Bradley?"

He blew her a kiss before turning to McKell. "What happens to Bride if I die before she's weaned off my blood? Not that I'll allow such a thing," Devyn said, partly to remind the vampire of who Bride belonged to, and partly to learn the ways of his wife's people. As he liked being the best at everything he did, this marriage would be no exception. He would care for her properly in all ways, even if he was dead.

McKell ran his tongue over his fangs, his narrowed eyes on Devyn. "We have a potion for such matters. Once she drinks it, she will be unable to go near you, or the effects will mutate and she will die."

"Okay, next option," Bride said.

"There is also the possibility of bonding with someone else," McKell replied. "It's actually the preferred method, as it holds no danger."

"Next," Devyn said this time.

McKell shrugged. "That's it."

Then Devyn would live forever. He'd planned to anyway, but this conversation had just solidified his determination.

"I have a question," Bride said. She was still at his side, leaning into him, tensing every time she heard something unpleasant. "Can I turn other people into vampires with my blood? I mean, I haven't yet, but it's still a fear I have."

McKell regarded her strangely before comprehension dawned and he shook his head. "You've been reading surface books, I see. We have some of those ourselves because we like to be up-to-date on beliefs, in case we need to intervene or make them believe something else."

"Yes, I've been reading. It was the only way I knew to learn about myself. I had no vampire tutor, no one I could ask."

Now hold everything. "Not to call you a liar, love, but you are a liar. You're forgetting someone who did, in fact, answer many of your questions."

"Yes, and I had to pay dearly for the information," she said with a half-grin.

"Are you referring to the little striptease I forced you to perform? Well, you're welcome. I haven't forgotten how much you enjoyed yourself."

She rolled her eyes. "Like I was the only one."

With a growl, McKell tossed a stone into the wall, and plumes of dust wafted around them. "Do you not care to hear what I have to say?"

Did it make Devyn a bad person that he was enjoying the man's anger?

"Please continue," Bride said with a wave of her hand.

"It would take significant amounts of your blood for a significant amount of time to change a human or otherworlder into a vampire." McKell's ears perked, and his back straightened. "The city is awakening, and we must prepare. I have clothes for you, Bride. They are yours, no one else's. The moment I decided to look for you, I purchased them for you. They're in my personal quarters."

No way was she going into the man's bedroom alone. "First, you should know that the humans you hired to find her, the slavers, hoped to rape and torture her before handing her over to you."

The patient stillness of a predator came over McKell. He breathed in and out, slowly, measured, as if to steady himself from a deep rage. "My apologies, Bride." That rage crackled in his tone. "They will be dealt with, I assure you."

"They already have been," Devyn said, smug again. "I take care of my own." McKell flicked his tongue over a fang. "Appropriately?"