Chapter One
Lily Sotheby settled back into the worn leather of the booth, her fingers around the stem of a wineglass. “This cabernet is, um . . .”
“Piss.” Hilde Freebird pulled the label off her longneck beer as Garth Brooks crooned from the jukebox. “You don’t order wine at a honkey-tonk, Prophet.”
“Shhh,” said Janie Kayrs, the other accomplice, eyeing the peanut shells lining the tavern’s floor. “Don’t call her that.”
“Oh yeah. My bad.” Hilde pushed her glasses farther up her nose and nodded at a group of men playing pool. Fit and hard, several wore handmade silk suits. They seemed out of place in the dive bar as well. “Have you chosen?”
This was such an incredibly bad idea. “No.” Lily tracked the distance from the booth to the door. “If the king discovers we’re at a bar, he’s going to kill me.” What in the heck was she thinking, bringing the vampire king’s niece to a public bar? Half of the immortal species wanted to kidnap Janie; the other half wanted her dead.
Janie snorted. “I know. We’re safe because nobody in the world would expect to find us here. But I’m twenty-five, have been for several days, and I’ve always wanted a real night out with the girls—without vampires or bodyguards.”
Hilde nodded. “That is important for a human woman, which you are. And getting the prophet laid is an admirable goal.”
On all that was holy. Lily’s face heated. “I’m sure I don’t remember how to, ah, copulate.” She’d mated a vampire three centuries ago, and he’d died shortly thereafter. Once mated, a vampire or mate could never become intimate with another being . . . until now.
“Well, first you need to stop using the word copulate.” Jane took a swig of beer. “How odd is it that a virus created by our enemies now allows you a second chance at love?”
Forget love. Lily had just wanted a night free of work and worry. Having sex with some stranger was not the way for her to relax, regardless of her friends’ attempts. “Virus-27 is designed to unravel our chromosomes until we become bacteria. . . no doubt I’ll die before that happens.” But, for now, the virus took away the physical repercussions of vampire mating, and she could actually touch a man again without inflicting a horrible allergic reaction upon them both. If she found a man. She smoothed down her long skirt.
“Speaking of copulation”—Hilde clucked her tongue—“did you have to dress like a puritan?”
Lily examined her flowered gown. “This is how I dress.”
“At least ditch the sweater.” Without waiting for agreement, Hilde grasped the sweater’s hem and yanked it over Lily’s head. “Oh my.”
Lily glanced down at her breasts rising above the bustier. “This is to be worn underneath the sweater.”
“Not if you want nookie.” Hilde shoved the sweater in her bulky purse. “Come on. Unlike you, I’m a widow who hasn’t contracted the virus and thus I still can’t touch a male without an allergic reaction. You must get some for both of us.”
Lily tried to relax and smile at her friend. Hilde had moved in with the vampires when her granddaughter had mated one of the king’s brothers, and she’d become a friend to Lily and a pain in the butt to the vampires. “This top is indecent,” Lily murmured.
Janie smiled, pretty blue eyes lightening. “You look beautiful.” She leaned forward. “In a couple of days, you’re going to be so busy brokering the end to the war, you won’t have time for fun. You deserve this. Now pick a man.”
Lily cleared her throat. “As one of three Realm prophets, I feel the need to caution you about strange men and pre-matehood sex.” While the prophets technically belonged to the Realm, a coalition of vampires, shifters, and witches, in reality, they belonged to Fate and would broker peace among all species. “You really should wait until you’re mated or married.”
“Shut up.” Hilde grinned as the waitress set down shots of tequila. Waiting until the woman had bustled away, Hilde pushed glasses toward the other two women. “Here’s to ending the vampire war.”
Lily took her glass. “To peace.” Tipping back her head, she allowed the liquor to slide down her throat, bringing instant warmth. Her eyes watered.
Janie played with the label on her beer. “So, ah, Caleb Donovan is supposed to arrive at headquarters in a few days.”
The mere mention of the vampire’s name sent heat spiraling through Lily’s body to pool in her abdomen. “All three of us prophets will be involved in negotiations.”
Hilde rolled her eyes. “Come on. Even though I’ve only been at headquarters a short time, I’ve noticed how you blush whenever the Realm Rebel is mentioned.”
Lily sighed. “We dated briefly centuries ago, but my parents arranged a marriage to somebody else. Caleb was angry, but duty called.” She’d always wondered if she’d made a mistake in choosing duty.
Janie sighed. “Ignore duty while you can. Caleb is hot. Maybe you should scratch an old itch and forget finding a human male for the night.”
“No.” Lily straightened her shoulders. “Caleb was kicked out of the Realm and only returned because your uncle needed allies in the war. Then, when Fate marked Caleb as one of the three prophets, the chance for anything between us ended. He’s so angry, and he hates being a prophet.”
“That’s because he’s a vampire and a soldier. The soft approach doesn’t work for him.” Janie frowned. “Sometimes Fate gets it wrong. Trust me.”
Enough talk about Fate and mistakes from the past. Lily glanced around the tavern, trying to distract Janie from the seriousness of their lives. “The bartender is handsome.”
Her friends instantly swiveled to check out the blond behind the bar. Green eyes, broad chest, hard-earned tan.
Hilde blew out air. “A twenty-five-year-old human male in that good shape? I bet he could go all night.”
Lily coughed out the scent of peanuts, dust, and tequila. “For goodness’ sake. I can’t do this.” Especially with a human who’d been on earth only a quarter of a century. He was just a kid.
Janie nodded. “Yeah, I agree. You need a guy with some mileage . . . experience matters.”
Lily turned in slow motion to eye the psychic. “You’re too young to be so wise. Tell me you haven’t been dabbling with some guy with mileage.”
Janie’s eyes sparkled. “Don’t ask questions if you don’t want the answers.”
Yeah, right. The poor woman never had a moment to herself. “Someday you’ll find your bliss, Janie.” Lily straightened her shoulders. “Now, let’s finish our drinks and go catch a movie.”
Hilde frowned. “No sex?”
“No. I’m a prophet, for Pete’s sake. I can’t sleep with one of these boys under thirty years old.” Lily sighed. Dignity was her middle name, darn it.
Hilde pushed her beer away. “Seriously. No sex?”
“Now, that would be a shame.” One of the men from the pool area slid around the corner, his wide shoulders blocking the nearest light. “Sex with strangers can be exhilarating.”
Hilde’s smile lit up her green eyes. “Exactly.” Scooting from the booth, she all but shoved the man in. “This is Lily, and she’s trying to ‘get back out there’ after ending a relationship a long time ago.”
The man held out a hand. “Paul Dunphy, and I know what you mean.”
Janie slid from the booth and gave Lily a look. “We’ll go play darts. I expect to see his license if you decide to leave with him.” The woman followed Hilde.
Lily’s mouth dropped open. She shook her head, “I, ah—”
Paul captured her hand and shook. “It’s all right, Lily. No judgment here.” He yanked on his silk tie and loosened the top. “I like your bar.”
“This is my first time here.” If Paul didn’t stop ogling her chest, she might have to kick him. “This doesn’t seem like your kind of place.”
“We finished signing a deal around the corner, and this seemed like a good place to let off some steam. I’m a financial broker.” His voice lowered on the last as if the statement should impress her.
“That’s nice.” Lily tried to signal her friends. Time to leave.
“What do you do?” Paul asked her breasts.
“Well, they just sit there mainly.” Lily waited until his gaze rose to her face. “I, on the other hand, am a counselor.” Which was true. “But I have an early morning tomorrow and need to get going.”
“Early morning? What are you, twenty-five?” Paul leaned in close, charm in his smile.
Three hundred and twenty-five, actually. “I feel much older.”
He frowned and brushed her hair from her face. “You look like a princess with those shining eyes and white-blond hair. And you smell like . . . what is that?”
Strawberries, or so she’d been told. She allowed her empathic abilities to open just a bit and then drew away from the darkness in her new companion. Kindness lived nowhere in the man.
“. . .
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