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 b.a.l.l.s 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 G.o.ds 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 prost.i.tutes.”
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 G.o.ds 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 trespa.s.sed 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 gra.s.s 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 embarra.s.sed 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 pa.s.sing 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, sh.e.l.l-colored horns. Those horns were seriously bada.s.s. 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 f.u.c.king 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 c.o.c.ked his head. “You’ve obviously been sheltered, and you’re only twenty-five. That makes me wonder how many lovers you’ve had.”