Chapter Nine

Qadaire

When the human returned, Qadaire gravitated to the front room. She held a few plastic sacks and a brown bag that smelled like grease. His nose scrunched at the unappealing scent.

“That bad, huh?” Cass laughed. “I guess if you haven’t had fast food before, it’s pretty bad.”

“Most of my food is fast. But I am faster.”

Cass snorted. “Another joke? You know, you’re actually pretty funny!”

Qadaire smiled smugly, although he resented the actually. He was funny. Who said he couldn’t be funny? Had the crows been telling rumors to her pup?

He led Cass to what used to be the servant’s kitchens. He cringed inwardly at the amount of dust everywhere as he cleared cobwebs and helped arrange things into cabinets. She reached into the offensive-smelling brown sack and pulled out a long, greasy thing whose smell could hardly pass for a potato.

“Would you like to play a game?”

“Huh?” Cassandra’s hand paused in mid-air. Her pulse sped up, her heart pumping an especially tart beat of citrus. “What, like, a-a scary game?”

What on earth was she talking about?

“You dislike board games?” He frowned. “Everyone likes board games.”

Cassandra started to laugh. It was a remarkable sound that made him instinctively lean closer to inhale her sweet, sweet scent, but it didn’t appease his confusion.

“Sorry. Wow! You scared me!” She straightened and ate the potato string. “There’s this old horror movie—I mean, yeah, let’s play a game. As long as it’s not Twister. You’d have an unfair advantage.”

Would he ever understand this human and all the nonsense she spoke of? The desire to know her inside and out hit him like a piano over the head, followed by the equally painful knowledge that he never would.

“Right this way.”

Zero was curled up under the table. His tail perked up at their entrance, but his head didn’t move. Cassandra kneeled to scratch his ears while Qadaire pulled out the wooden chair for her.

“What is this game? It looks so old.”

“Most of what you’ll find around here is old.”

“Oh?” He could practically hear the questions rattling around inside Cassandra’s mind as she took her seat. He knew which one she would land on. “How old are you, anyway?”

It pleased him that his prediction was correct. “I’m older than the invention of all the tools used in your lab.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I was born in 1423.”

Another potato stilled on its trip to her luscious mouth. “And how many of those centuries have you spent here, alone?”

“What does that matter?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Of course you are.” He tried to chuckle but succeeded in sounding like a cat with a hairball. “I’m not a specimen. And you are not a psychiatrist.”

“Do you think you need a psychiatrist?”

Qadaire scowled, but there was a twinkle in her acorn eyes. One side of her mouth rose in a teasing grin as she bit the end of another stringy potato. She was teasing him. Him, the oldest and most powerful vampire in the area, slayer of tyrant king Dracula VI. A human sat across from him, munching on fast food and taunting him.

His groin filled with heat, his fangs throbbing.

“If you’re set on playing games with me, then play the one I went to the trouble of setting up for us. If you’ve got the gumption.”

“Oh, I have plenty of gumption. What are the rules?”

Qadaire placed a rule card in front of her and allowed her time to look it over, then answered all of her subsequent questions. When she was ready, she played the first move. While he contemplated his strategy, she brought out a monstrous-looking sandwich that smelled worse than the potato and contained a poor imitation of cooked meat.

Cassandra giggled. “You’ve never seen a hamburger?”

“That’s what you call that putrid sandwich?”

She laughed and took another large bite. “I guess it is pretty gross,” she agreed. Without thinking about it for a moment, she made her next move.

Qadaire grinned. She would be easy to beat. Board game strategy was different than the scientific method.

“I have no reason to understand what humans eat these days. Just like they have no reason to consider that they might’ve been cattle, if not for me.”

A silent bristle went through Cassandra, her pulse unsteady. Not all of his jokes could be a hit, but now that he’d heard her dulcet laugh, he had to try.

“My apologies. I’ve rattled you.”

“Maybe stick to lighter subjects for your jokes. It’s unnerving to think of what our world would look like if the man who commissioned those paintings and experiments were still around.” She trembled, but Qadaire couldn’t tell if it was a purposeful exaggeration or a true chill. “For what it’s worth, I am very grateful you got rid of him. Even if no one else knows.”

Nine rings! It’d only been a joke, but now? He would go back in time and assassinate the despot over and over if it meant those words would float from her mouth in another 500 years.

“You may ask another of your burning questions.” Hopefully, that would assuage her discomfort.

“Really?” She hummed, her gaze drifting to the corner. “Is it true vampires can’t be in the sun?”

“It’s true.” He recalled the early days, when the warmth of the sun was his gold lining. “The curse changed me. Along with an extra set of arms, I grew resistant to the burn. The only good thing to come of it.”

“I can only imagine. When you say grew, which pair grew?”

He should’ve specified only one question. “The top pair felt the most natural in the beginning, but it no longer matters. I can use them all for different tasks at the same time.”

“I’ve seen. It’s amazing!”

Qadaire stilled. He flicked his attention from the board to examine her. He found no jest but honest admiration.

“Okay, last question. Can you eat human food?”

“I can, but I don’t need it.”

“This game isn’t that hard,” she said through a mouthful of hamburger. “Your turn.”

“Is it easy, or is your strategy lacking?” Qadaire said with a lilt. Okay, so he was enjoying himself. It had been a long time since he’d played against someone who had the ability to read the rules and move the pieces. Not a particularly challenging feat. “I hope you aren’t a sore loser.”

“Cocky, are we?”

His cock twitched at its name. He simmered it down with a reminder that the term had nothing to do with it, but his ego, which would be bruised if he lost the first real game he’d played in centuries to a human.

He placed his piece, earning a tsk tsk from Cassandra. She easily discarded his move and surpassed him.

“How in the nine rings?”

“Hmm, what was that about shitty strategies?”

Qadaire growled. He made his move and leaned his chin on his tented upper hands while the lowers gripped the sides of the table. When she played next, he saw his opening.

“What? What are you grinning at?” she asked as she balled up her trash and shoved it into the brown sack.

“Your move.”

She made her move.

“Your beginner’s luck has ended, my human friend.” He took the jewel and leaned back, crossing his upper arms and placing his lowers on his hips. “Who’s the sore loser now?”

“Still you. You’re even a sore winner!” She stuck out her tongue. Fuck, she would be the death of him!

Zero sneezed. Cassandra’s face fell and she stood to clear the table.

“I’ve got this.” Qadaire placed a hand over hers while the rest started to stack and fold the pieces. She turned her palm up and gave his a squeeze, a slight gesture that made the feathers on his arm ripple.

“Thanks. I’m gonna refill his food and water, then I’ll head to the lab. Meet you there?”

Qadaire nodded. The pup followed Cassandra out of the room, which shrank without her presence.