Sweet Ruin (29 page)

“The nymphs are hidden everywhere. If you have a secret conversation, don’t have it beside a tree, a rock, or a puddle, because a nymph could very well be within it.”

“The ones watching Val Hall for you are
inside
the oaks there?” It sounded as if they ghosted!

He nodded. “They’re Dryads, tree nymphs.”

“There are different kinds?”

“Yes, based on the elements. Since immortals first kept records, the Nymphae have remained neutral during Lorewide wars, fighting only to defend themselves. Their coveys are battle-free zones and draw every species of immortal, which means you can observe your enemies without worrying about death. Or you can find a demon who can trace you to another country.”

“You couldn’t sound more admiring.”

As if she hadn’t spoken, he continued, “Due to their neutrality, they live exceptionally long lives and grow very knowledgeable—that also means there are legions of them. Some say the coveys are the glue holding the Lore together.”

“Well, they certainly seem to stick to you.”

He gave her a thin smile. “We can swing by the Nephele covey.”

“Nephele?”

“Cloud nymphs. Their visitors are more interdimensional. But first we have to pinpoint a more precise location for Nïx, namely the highest place to get tea in China. Fire up your computer and Google it.” He frowned. “I can’t believe I just said that sentence.”

“Google?”

“I learned of it from—”

“Lemme guess. The nymphs?”

“A few of their
patrons
told me Google is like the Oracle of the Elserealms. If you ask the exact right question, you’ll be provided a suitable answer.”

Jo studied the frayed hem of her shirt. “I don’t have a computer. I pretty much shun technology.” She was deeply embarrassed by her illiteracy, and didn’t want Rune to find out about it before he’d fallen head over heels for her and all.

Again and again, Jo had imagined what would’ve happened if she’d taken MizB up on her offer of adoption, living with a freaking librarian, a wrangler of books.

Jo would be able to read. She wouldn’t have been shot in the face. Wouldn’t have been reborn.

Yet now she was beginning to think her transformation had been inevitable. Was it inevitable for Thad? The evidence mounted.

And if he was like Jo, how would MizB handle her precious son drinking blood?

Rune said, “If you don’t have a computer, then we’ll go to a library.”

Jo visited them often—alone. With Rune there, it would be the hardest place to disguise an inability to read. “Or we could head to an internet café near the local college.” Still dicey.

“Lead on.”

Outside the café, Jo watched Rune extricating himself from a throng of female admirers. Women had lined up to show him how to Google.

Jo had continually thought,
I just got off with this guy
. And yet he’d flashed each one his panty-melting grin.

With one girl’s help, they’d learned about Mount Hua, a towering mountain in China. Rune believed Nïx’s note referred to the tea house on Mount Hua’s soaring summit.

To reach it, one had to inch along a rickety patchwork of boards nailed to the sheer face of the mountain. The ascent was considered the world’s deadliest hike. Treacherous sections of the trail had names like Thousand-Foot Precipice, Sparrow Hawk Flipping Over, and Black Dragon Ridge.

Mortals fell to their deaths all the time. Jo was amped to travel to such an exotic and exciting place; Rune had seemed far less enthusiastic.

Now all they had to do was find a demon to get them to China.

Finally, Rune emerged. “Let’s get somewhere secluded so I can trace us.”

If she’d been alone, she would’ve disappeared in front of anybody. With a shrug, she strolled alongside him. “The guy who worked in the internet café knew tons about computers, but you chose a random coed to help us?” Jo would bet Rune didn’t play well with anyone who had a dick. She couldn’t picture him having a lot of guy buddies.

“The female mortal had sexual interest in me, and so was particularly motivated to help with my queries.”

“Do you always boil everything down to sex?”

He blinked at her. “When I want something from someone? Yes.”

Could she really expect anything different? Rune the Insatiable had used seduction as a weapon for ages. Still did.

Jo frowned up at him.
Does he have ulterior motives for seducing
me?

THIRTY-FIVE

T
he Nephele are close,” Rune said. He’d traced Jo to a meadow beneath a star-strewn sky.

With no city lights, the stars appeared so much brighter. After that memory flash during the fight with Nïx, would Jo ever look at them the same way? She was growing convinced the answers to her past resided in the stars.

“Ahead is the covey.” Rune pointed to a dense patch of fog. “They enjoy mating earthbound creatures, so much so they brought their clouds to the ground.”

As a fog bank.

He took her elbow, and they started toward it.
Here I go. Into the Lore.
She could handle this.

She squinted through the mist, murmuring, “Why do you think Nïx went to Mount Hua?”

“You didn’t read the history?”

She gazed away. “Got distracted.”

“Pilgrims used to seek immortality among the peaks of that region. Maybe there’s a grain of truth to the tales, and something is drawing her in. Maybe she wants to test herself on a deadly climb. It’s best not to contemplate the motives of the mad, or you’ll wind up mad yourself.”

Music and laughter carried through the fog. Like a stray drumbeat, groans rang out.

“Do you truly think she’s insane?”

“The human who brought us that note reeked of fear. She must’ve demonstrated her power to him, outing herself, and for no discernible reason? That alone proves her insanity.”

“It’s that bad for us to demonstrate power in front of humans?” Like crushing a guy’s balls one-handed while chewing gum? In front of all the folks in the neighborhood? Enough to get a supervillain name?

“You’re jesting, right? It’s the one law in the Lore all factions respect. The gods could rain down punishment for any infraction. At the very least, outing oneself to humans is thought to bring horrible luck.”

Hunting always seemed to get her in trouble. So why couldn’t she stop?

“Have you been attracting attention?” he asked. “Besides shoving me through a building?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes I punish humans a little. When I move to a place, I feel like it’s my territory—and like the people within it are mine too. If pimps and drug dealers and gang bangers mess with what’s mine, I hunt them. Hurt them. Disappear them.”

He looked unsurprised. “Vampires are notoriously territorial.”

We are?
No wonder she’d been compelled to hunt! “I’m kind of a protector of prostitutes.”

He stiffened beside her. “Is that meant to be funny?”

She blinked at him. “No. I really am.” She’d need to plan a maintenance visit soon. “So why do the gods get mad when we out ourselves?”

“This is the mortals’ world. Though Loreans like to believe it’s theirs as well, it
isn’t
. They trespassed when they colonized here. Deities look the other way as long as Loreans don’t change the course of human history.”

“Why do beings come here then?” The fog grew increasingly thick, the grass wetter.

Rune placed his warm palm on the small of her back to guide her. Not as good as when they’d held hands, but a promising start. “Gaia is all but a heaven plane,” he said. “Life is very easy here compared to the home dimensions of many species. Immortals gather in certain Lore-rich cities—such as New Orleans. Established communities benefit them further.”

That explained why Jo had seen so many more freaks there. “How many dimensions are there?”

“Some say the number is infinite. Many remain unexplored.”

Infinite. Whoa. How cool would it be to explore new worlds? Maybe with the guy at her side.

“We near the covey.” He pulled up his collar to conceal his bite mark.

“You embarrassed by that?”

He turned to her, his voice going deeper. “Just the opposite. I have a beautiful vampire who can’t keep her fangs out of me.”

That’s fair.

“But I don’t want to reveal what you are. Of all the species nymphs fraternize with, vampires are among the least welcome, have been known to drink a nymph dry. You have clear eyes, and you lack a vampire’s scent, so you shouldn’t have any problem passing for another species. I also don’t want to reveal your immunity to my baneblood, not until I figure out the other half of your hybrid.”

“Got it. I’ll try not to shotgun-drink a nymph while I’m here.”

Giggling females traipsed through the mist nearby, wearing wispy dresses that looked like they’d been fashioned from the fog itself. Silvery fringe jewelry dangled from their ears, with more pieces in their hair.

Jo wore jeans, combat boots, and a ratty
Red Flag
T-shirt.

The nymphs joined a group of burly demons with curved, shell-colored horns. Those horns were seriously badass. Jo tilted her head. What would they feel like?

She sensed Rune’s gaze on her. She was used to spying at her leisure. Now he was watching her watch others.

Farther along the meadow, they came upon another group. She blinked. Couldn’t be seeing right.

Centaurs were mounting ecstatic nymphs. “How is that even possible?” Centaurs had been in Tortua, but seeing them
midmount
, or whatever, made her squeeze her legs together—the way guys did when racked.

Rune glanced away. “An immortal body is capable of unbelievable things.”

“I guess you see nymphomaniac orgy scenes like this all the time.” He
starred
in scenes like this.

“You haven’t? Loreans aren’t shy. And nymphs can be witnessed fucking everywhere in the Lore. Especially in a pocket realm like this.”

“Pocket what?”

He exhaled. “I can’t remember when I last met someone so unacquainted with the Lore. A pocket realm is a dimension that shares the same characteristics of Gaia. Same sun, moon, stars, weather, et cetera.” He cocked his head. “You’ve obviously been sheltered, and you’re only twenty-five. That makes me wonder how many lovers you’ve had.”

She jutted her chin. “Three.”

He laughed. “Three? Yet more evidence you were raised among monks.” He again muttered, “Three,” as if that were the punch line of a joke. “How long has it been?”

“A while.” What would he think if she told him she’d only had sex a handful of times? “How many have you been with?”

“Can’t count that high.”

“That’s the same answer you gave me when I asked how many you’ve killed.”

All his previous good humor disappeared. Casting her a strange look, he said, “You’d be amazed how closely tied those two numbers are.”

No. No, she wouldn’t. Jo knew some of the specifics. She considered confessing to the dreams, but reminded herself that four days ago he’d reached for his knife—because he’d
suspected
she might be a
cosaş
.

Probably not best for their burgeoning relationship if he again decided to kill her.

They approached a clearing in the mist, spread over a section of the meadow. The fog floated above, resembling a giant awning. In the center, a fountain flowed with wine. Nymphs congregated there, like super-models at a vino convention.

“Rune!” one squealed.

The rest cried his name and clapped excitedly. When they jumped up and down, their cloud dresses slipped, boobs flying.

They acted like a rock star had entered the premises.

Nymphs surrounded him, jockeying for position, crowding Jo out of the way. With worshipful expressions, they petted his arms and chest. Each promised him secrets. They definitely had his number.

And I thought I could get Rune to fall for me?
Stupid Jo. Why on earth—or anywhere else—would a male give up this kind of lifestyle?

“Doves, I’m here to find a demon,” he told them, and they quieted. “One who can trace me to every continent in Gaia.”

“I know of one,” said a nymph with an arrangement of thick blond braids piled atop her head. “What would that information be worth?”