—Just get this over with.—

She turned back to Nereus, inwardly frowning as a thought occurred. The god had said his foe Lothaire had come last month. Between Pandemonia and the belly, how much time had she and Thronos lost? Sabine must be out of her head with worry!

Nereus observed, “I wouldn’t have expected to see a sorceress and a Vrekener as traveling companions.”

“Cheap airfare,” she said with a wink.

He smiled, revealing straight, white teeth. A nice smile. Fangs would make it better. “Yes, but I sense that you are a hedonist like myself. And the Vrekener is not.”

“Interestingly, he and I share a fated connection.”

—You. Are. Mine.—

—Thronos, come on!— She reached for her wine again.

Nereus waved her statement away. “I detect a great many things about you. You’re a sensual connoisseur, are you not?”

She paused over the rim of her goblet.

“From one hedonist to another,” he continued, “I find it refreshing when women know their way around the bedroom. A humanoid female who happens to be a connoisseur of males is a most coveted creature in nautical realms.”

“Not so much in other realms.”

In a bemused tone, Nereus asked, “Why is sex the only endeavor where a male hopes his partner is a rank novice?”

Lanthe couldn’t stop the grin that spread over her face. “Why indeed?”

Nereus gazed at her smiling lips for long moments, then leaned in with a get-down-to-business look. “You want to get to know me, but I want us to get to know each other.” He might as well have cracked his knuckles. “So tell me, what is the favorite pastime of a sorceress like yourself?”

“Drinking wine and watching TV.” She illustrated the first with a deep draw from her glass.

“Admirable. And how would you react if you developed gills?” he asked, as if he was ticking off a mental list of questions.

“I’d wonder how to accessorize them.”

“Your stance on sharing males?”

“Generally not a fan.” The dick was speed-date interviewing her! “I’m high-maintenance, usually more than one male can handle.”

Thronos snorted. He might as well have said, “Preach.”

“In five years, where do you see yourself?” Nereus asked. “With more than a dozen spawn? Or fewer?”

“Absolutely fewer than a dozen.”

“Pets in the bed. Yay or nay?”

“Depends on the pet.”

“For instance, a pod of Nereids.”

—Yes, Melanthe, tell us. How would you feel?—

—Gold preserve me.— “Do I get a pass?”

Nereus hesitated, then let her off the hook on that one. “If you could meet any Lorean, alive or dead, who would it be?”

Finally a question that wasn’t laden with skeevy undertones. In all honesty, she would have liked a chance to talk to her mother.

She wished she could tell Elisabet that she now understood how difficult it must’ve proved to be the vessel of an Accession, to be banished from her Deie Sorceri family, to leave her home and all she’d known.

To beget a child like Omort.

Lanthe now knew Elisabet had done the best she could. Their father, too.

But Lanthe could never answer honestly. So she glibly said, “Naturally, it would be you, Nereus.”

If the god noticed that her mood had changed, he didn’t indicate it. Yet she felt Thronos’s penetrating eyes on her.

“Flattering sorceress,” Nereus fake-chided, but she could tell he was pleased. The questions resumed. “What’s your favorite art and music, across all planes and worlds?”

She felt herself relaxing. This was an easy subject for her. “For art, I enjoy the Helvitan masters. The way those vampires use ground bloodroot on a canvas of cured flesh is nothing short of inspiring. For music, I like a mortal genre called top one hundred. Or, of course, classical Draiksulian. Those fey know how to compose a jaunty tune. I noticed earlier that your Nereids were playing thirteenth-century sirenades. Lovely.”

“They were indeed! I hadn’t thought anyone would notice.” He narrowed his green eyes. “You are clearly well educated. How are you at trivia?”

Sometimes she would play trivia games with Sabine, Rydstrom, Cadeon, and Holly, going from third wheel to fifth wheel. “I guess I’m not too bad. When I was young, I’d often read to pass the time.”

“Then answer this: Who was the leader of the Three-Century Rebellion in the Quondam realm?”

She’d expected a trick question from a trickster god. “Actually, that rebellion was in the Quandimi realm. The leader was Bagatur the Battlecrafter.”

Nereus gave a robust laugh, his oiled chest rumbling. “I thought I would stump you.”

“My sister and I studied ruthless leaders to pick up pointers. We were convinced we would rule the worlds in one great co-queendom.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Thronos cast her a quizzical look. —You know a great many things.—

—Maybe I earned my idle pastime of TV viewing? I’m not an empty-headed bimbo. Which is why I didn’t take kindly to your suggestion that I study Vrekener history and spend time in contemplation.—

—Fair enough.—

Nereus too was impressed with her knowledge. “I find you to be quite learned about art and culture and the ways of the world. I’ve made my decision.” His hand landed on her knee. “With your beauty and sexual prowess, you would be ideal for spawning.”