“Oh, I see,” Milan mumbled. “I’ll let them know.”

Zoltan hung up and dragged a hand through his damp hair. What the hell was going on at Beyul-La? He needed to go back and investigate.

He teleported with his duffel bag back to the kitchen.

“There you are.” Howard and his wife were eating pizza at the kitchen table. He motioned to the counter. “I brought you down a sat phone. So you wouldn’t forget.”

“Thanks.” Zoltan slipped it inside his jacket pocket. “What’s this?” He opened a folder to look at the papers inside.

“J.L. brought that back from Tiger Town,” Howard explained. “Rajiv said you wanted it.”

“Excellent.” It was the land deed for the valley of Beyul-La and surrounding territory. Zoltan stashed it inside his duffel bag.

“We have a visitor!” Emma called out as she entered the kitchen with a man behind her.

Howard sat back, his eyes narrowing. “Hello, Russell.”

“He has news for us,” Emma announced. “And I talked him into taking a sat phone with him.”

“Amazing,” Howard grumbled.

“What’s the news?” Zoltan asked as he handed Russell a Bleer.

“I tracked down Lord Liao.” Russell unscrewed the top off the bottle. “He went back to one of Master Han’s major outposts in the Yunnan province. Apparently he convinced Han that there was something in Tibet worth fighting for, because he’s headed back that way.”

“We think we figured out what they’re after,” Zoltan said. “The women of Beyul-La have a fountain of youth. Living Water, they call it. Some of them are thousands of years old.”

“Sheesh.” Russell gulped down some Bleer. “Lord Liao is headed in their direction with a new group of soldiers. Two hundred of them.”

Zoltan winced. Even with all the Vamps and shifters they could gather, they would be terribly outnumbered.

“Can you follow them?” Emma asked Russell. “Call as often as you can to give us an update of their location.”

Russell nodded. “I will.” He gave Zoltan a worried look. “They’re moving fast. They’ll be near Beyul-La in three or four days.”

Zoltan gathered up his ice chest and duffel bag. “I’d better get back.”

Chapter Nineteen

Neona paced back and forth in her house, too agitated to sleep. It had been a huge shock to find out that Zoltan had inherited a gift from his mother. What if Minerva’s son had inherited her gift?

“I’m so sorry.” Neona touched her sister’s pillow. “I shouldn’t have let Mother take away your son. I should have rebelled then.” Instead of waiting till now. Now, when Minerva was gone.

Tears burned Neona’s eyes, and she angrily wiped them away. Why had it taken so long for her to see the truth? Was it because of Zoltan? She shook her head. No, she’d already suspected her mother of lying. And she’d hated the way Minerva had been forced to give up her son. The seed of rebellion had already taken root inside her. Zoltan’s arrival had just caused it to burst into full bloom. Each time she tried to explain their way of life to him, she caught a glimpse of it through his eyes, and things she’d accepted before seemed suddenly strange. Wrong.

She paced toward the fireplace. How was Minerva’s son faring? Was he happy? Or did he feel abandoned? Unloved? God help her, she didn’t even know what name he’d been given. She needed to find him, but he was thirty miles away at a Buddhist monastery.

Could Zoltan teleport her there? And if he did, would she have the courage to bring the boy back here to his rightful home? No doubt the queen would be livid. It was a severe breach of their laws to allow a human male to live in Beyul-La. The queen was only tolerating Zoltan until he impregnated her.

But who had come up with these laws? Had it been part of the original pact, like the queen said, or was it a decision she’d made afterward? Had she excluded men simply because she hated them? Or did she fear that someday a gifted male child would grow up and challenge her position as ruler?

There was no way to know. The pact had been made with the three original women—Nima, Dohna, and Anjali. Only Nima remained.

Neona paced faster as her anger grew, not just anger at her mother but anger at herself as well. For centuries, she’d considered herself a brave warrior, always fighting to protect the secrets of Beyul-La. But the truth was she’d been a coward.

It seemed pathetic that just a few days ago, she had panicked out of fear of having and losing a son. Now she was filled with a new, hardened determination. There was no way on earth she would allow a child of hers, boy or girl, to be given away. If she decided to have children with Zoltan, nothing would stop her!

Except his dead seed. Her pacing stopped with a jerk. Could she heal his dead seed? She looked at her hands. If she touched his male parts enough, could she heal him?

She inhaled sharply as a new idea sprang to mind. Could the Living Water bring his seed back to life? It was against their law to give the water to a human male, but to hell with that. She was already considering bringing Minerva’s son here to live. If she could break that law, why not break them all? Why not marry Zoltan and have all the sons and daughters she wanted?

She peeked outside. It was still raining, but with the mood she was in, a little rain was not about to stop her. A small army wouldn’t stop her. She put her damp tunic back on, then dashed to the storeroom where they kept all their dishes, pottery, linens, food, firewood, and medical supplies. She’d spent enough time in the small building over the years to know her way around in the dark. She searched the shelf where empty bowls and jugs were kept and selected a small clay flask with a cork in the top.

The wind and rain buffeted her as she ran toward the cave. Her leather slippers splashed through puddles till they were soaked through. As she neared the entrance, she slowed down, easing around the boulders silently, listening for any voices.

It was quiet. She peeked inside. The throne room was well lit with torches, and it was empty, except for Zhan, who rested close to the entrance. He sat up and tilted his head, giving her a curious and concerned look that touched her heart.

“Good kitty,” she whispered, patting him on the head. “Don’t tell anyone I was here, okay?”

He butted her leg.

The other women had to be in the back cavern with the young ones. No doubt the storm had frightened the young ones, and with good reason. They had lost many an ancestor to the lightning and strong winds that accompanied a storm.

Neona kicked off her leather slippers so she wouldn’t leave a muddy trail straight to the pool. Her tunic was dripping, so she took it off, too, and left it by the entrance. Then she ran past the area where they held their meetings and past the throne, until she reached the dark, glistening pool. Hunching down beside the water, she uncorked the small flask and filled it. Then she corked it and scurried back to the entrance.

One glance back, and she groaned. She’d still left a few small puddles. Zhan trotted up to the biggest one and flopped down in it, rubbing his back against the stone till his fur had soaked up most of the water.

She smiled as she slipped her tunic and slippers back on. Her pet ran back to her and butted her leg.

“You’re the best kitty in the world.” She gave him a hug, then slipped back outside into the rain.

She ran home, then hid the flask in the wooden chest at the foot of her bed. During the day, when Zoltan was in his death-sleep, she would slip some of the Living Water into his bottles of blood.

After putting another log on the fire, she peeled off her wet clothes, then toweled herself dry. Just as she was leaning over her open wooden chest to retrieve some clean clothes, she heard a voice behind her.

“Now that’s a beautiful sight. Hold that position.”

She spun around, her clean clothes clutched to her chest. “You’re back.”

Zoltan smiled as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his belongings on top of his chest. “I was afraid you’d be asleep.” His gaze drifted over her while he removed his jacket.

The intense way he looked at her made her stomach quiver. “I was getting ready for bed.”

“Good.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it on his bed. “We have some unfinished business.” He stepped toward her, his eyes darkening. “Nine more cl**axes. Nine more positions.”

Her eyes widened. “Surely you don’t expect to do all that in one night?”

He unfastened his pants. “I’ve always prided myself on never quitting a task till it’s done.”

“I see.” Her heart thudded loudly in her ears. “Well, I would certainly hate to damage your pride.”

His mouth curled up. “How thoughtful of you. One might get the idea that you care about me.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest. “Can we truly belong to each other, Zoltan? A vampire and a—?”

“An old crone?” His smile widened.

With a snort she tossed her clean clothes back into her wooden chest. “Do I look like an old crone to you?”

His smile faded as his gaze traveled down her body. By the time his eyes met hers once again, they were red and glowing.

Moisture gathered between her legs. Her skin tingled, just knowing she had such an immediate effect on him. He dropped his pants to the floor and kicked them aside. The bulge in his underwear was blatant. Maybe she should start trying to heal him tonight.

She reached for the waistband of his underwear, but he spun her around to face her wooden chest. He dropped the lid, then bent her over it, planting her hands on top.

“What are you doing?” She glanced over her shoulder. He was leaning over her, his chest against her back and his erection pressed against her rump.

“This is position number two,” he whispered in her ear as he nudged her legs apart with a bare foot.

Her knees trembled, and more moisture seeped from her core. Whatever he was doing, she wanted it.

His hands trailed up her arms, then swept her hair over a shoulder so her back was bare. “Beautiful.” He kissed the back of her neck, then nibbled a trail down her spine. His hands cupped her breasts, his fingers gently teasing her nipples.

She shivered, digging her fingers into the wooden chest.

He reached the small of her back and ran his tongue up the indentation of her spine. With a moan, she arched.

When would he touch her? She needed his touch. She rubbed her rump against his groin. “Please.”

He grasped her hips, holding her steady. “I love this.” His hands smoothed up to her narrow waist, then back down the flare of her hips. “You’re so beautiful.”

Her legs trembled, and she locked her knees to keep from falling. “Zoltan,” she whispered. “Please.”

“Yes.” He leaned over to trail nibbling kisses over her rear end. She gasped when his hand slipped between her legs. Oh, God, yes. Finally.

“So wet.”

She whimpered at the feel of his fingers. Insistent, bold, possessive.

“This time I want to be inside you.” He inserted a finger.

She cried out. He plunged another finger inside her, stroking her, tickling her. She gasped for air, moaning and rocking against him. Tension spiraled inside her, climbing higher and higher till she shattered.

With another cry, her knees collapsed, and he held her up, supporting her with his free arm while she throbbed against his fingers.

She was still hazy when he tossed her on the bed and flipped her over.

“Position number three.” He spread her legs, then settled between them, his face just inches away from her wet, swollen flesh.

“Wait!”

He propped himself up on his elbows, and a corner of his mouth curled up. “Do you need a break?”

“I-I think we need to reconsider the—”

“Ten cl**axes with no biting, and then you would trust me. That was the deal.”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. “But I think there is a flaw—”

“Looks perfect to me.”

The rascal was studying her womanly parts. And with his face only inches away, he was certainly getting a good view. She’d never felt so exposed before. Nor this excited. Just knowing that he was watching made her skin tingle and her core ache to be touched. “What kind of position is this? Do you plan to stare at me till I cl**ax?”

His smile widened. “Do you think that would work?”

“You’re smirking again.”

“And ogling.” He inched closer. “You’re so wet, you’re glistening in the firelight.”

She swallowed hard as more moisture seeped from her. Good Lord, it was working. She could feel the tension inside her coiling tighter and tighter.

“And your scent is driving me wild,” he continued.

Her hands fisted in the sheet. “As I was saying, there is a flaw in your thinking. It’s not my—” She gasped when his tongue swept over her wet, swollen skin.

“You were saying?”

Good Lord, she’d never imagined anything like this. “Yes, I—” She jerked when he licked an especially sensitive part.

“Something about a flaw? Should I stop?”

“No!”

“That’s my girl.” He grasped her h*ps to hold her steady, then drew her sensitive part into his mouth and suckled.

She screamed as another cl**ax seized her, shaking her violently. By the time she could see straight, he was lying beside her on the bed.

“Are you all right?” He brushed her hair back from her face.

“Are you sure you’re not trying to kill me?”