“Majae. And vamps are called Magi.” Kat sipped, and smiled at the spicy-sweet bite of alcohol blended with fruit. “Grace gave me the lecture. She didn’t say anything about werewolves, though.”
“We didn’t know about them until recently.” He rested a warm hand on the small of her back, and she walked along with him. “Seems Merlin didn’t entirely trust us, so he created a race of Direwolves to make sure we didn’t step over the line. They’re immune to magic, so in a fight they’d probably kick our collective asses.”
“So why’d Arthur invite them?”
Ridge shrugged. “Why not? They’re our allies now, and it’s Christmas. Arthur invited all kinds of people to the party.” He nodded at a small glowing figure that darted past through the air, looking rather like a giant firefly. “Fairies, dragons, a shape-shifting unicorn or two.”
“Y’all have interesting friends.” Absently, Kat put her drained cup on a passing tray. As the tray retreated, she did a double take. No waiter carried it. It just glided along through the air, apparently surfing on a wave of sparks. “I am definitely not in Kansas anymore.”
“Want to dance, Dorothy?” Ridge gave her a rakish smile and held out a hand.
“Why not?” She rested her palm on his and let the vampire lead her into the ballroom.
The Latent waltzed very well, following his lead with an athletic ease and grace. Her train had some kind of wristband she’d hooked one hand through, and she held her arm out to the side so the skirt swirled around them like water. The slit flashed glimpses of long leg that heated his libido to a smoky simmer.
He found his gaze lingering on her sultry mouth under its coat of bronze gloss. Her scent was intoxicating—female flesh, some exotic floral perfume, Latent potential singing a siren song in her blood. The combination made his fangs ache.
It was far too easy to imagine how she’d taste.
He’d never Turned a Latent—doing that kind of thing without permission could get you an order of execution. Mageverse Fever was nothing to screw around with.
But he’d heard there was no experience quite like having a woman Change as you spilled yourself into her. Merlin’s Gift igniting in her cells, activated by contact with a vampire’s magic. . . .
Yeah. They said it was something.
Assuming you could ignore the cost she could end up paying for all that power.
Janice, screaming as she burned in the demon’s fire . . .
Ridge smelled her blazing hair as her shrieks of agony deafened him. The magical flames seared him as he tried to beat them out with his bare hands. . . .
Too late. Too goddamn late.
His feet faltered, and he lost the rhythm of the dance.
“Hey, you okay?”
Janice was gone. The eyes that looked up at him were Kat’s, blue and smoky and concerned.
“Fine,” Ridge said curtly. “I need some air.” He released her and strode toward the French doors that led out into the moonlit garden.
It was warmer out there than it had any business being this time of year. Apparently one of the Majae had cast a spell to ensure it was just cool enough to be pleasant on a dancer’s heated skin. Ridge drew in a calming breath and walked across the stone-paved patio.
Kat trailed him, frowning in concern. “You sure you’re all right?” He turned to look down into her lovely moonlit face. “Why do you want to do this? Become a Maja?” She gave him a smile that looked a little too tight as she caught up her locket in long fingers and began to rasp it along its gold chain. “Well, immortality sounds pretty cool.” Impatiently, he waved off the statement. “Somehow I doubt you’re stupid enough to really believe that.”
Her blond brows flew upward, and she drew back, visibly offended. “I’m not stupid at all.”
“Good. Because Arthur wasn’t kidding when he said you need to be damned sure you want to do this. It can get you killed in some really ugly ways.”
Her gaze went chilly. “Not being immortal is no guarantee you’ll die in bed, Ridge. And I like the idea of being able to defend myself.”
There was a bitter note to that Southern Comfort drawl. “Is there a particular reason you need to be able to defend yourself?”
She turned away and moved to the stone balustrade. “The world is full of predators.”
“True.” He followed her to study her expressionless profile. “And we tend to encounter a lot of them in this job. Mostly because we go out and look for them. If you stay human, you’d have a reasonable chance of avoiding all those killers.”
“Only if you’re lucky. Not everybody’s lucky.” Her fingers found her necklace again.
“Who do you know that was that unlucky?” Realization dawned. “The girl in the picture on your mantel? The one who owned that necklace?” He reached for the locket.
Kat lifted one delicate shoulder in a half shrug, pulling away before he could touch her. Her fingers tightened protectively around the locket.
Ridge brushed his fingertips along the line of her jaw. Her skin felt warm, silken. She automatically looked up at him. The pain in her eyes deflated his own useless anger at past failures. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”
Her mouth twisted into a bitter line. “It’s a little late for that.” But as she studied his expression in the moonlight, the tension in her face slowly melted into sympathy. “You’re grieving too.” He looked off over the gently rolling lawn. Its clusters of moonlit trees glowed with the soft magic of the Mageverse. “A friend of mine died in the Dragon War. She . . . burned. One of the demons threw a fireball and hit her. She was standing six feet away, but there was nothing I could do. I didn’t have the magic to put it out. And neither did she.” Ghostly shrieks rose in his ears again.
“A lover?” There was no pity in those lovely eyes, only understanding. Yes, Kat had her own memories that sliced the mind like broken glass.
“We hadn’t been together like that in decades. But she was the one who made me a vampire. You never forget the one who Changes you, whether there’s real love there or not. Watching her die . . .”
“Hurt.” Kat said it as if she knew how utterly inadequate the word was to express such howling agony.
“Yes.”