Lore betting book that Nucking Futs Nïx wouldn’t make it through this
Accession with any remaining sanity intact. And there wasn’t a whole lot remaining.
“Don’t fret, love,” Nïx said reassuringly.
“How can I not fret …” Regin trailed off. “You’re talking to the freaking bat!”
She tickled its bel y with a claw. “Coochy-coo.” Regin swore the bat smacked its lips with contentment,
snuggling into her arm.
Had Nïx been feeding that little winged rat her blood? “Don’t you know that those things spread Cujos?
Damn, Nïxie, you’re getting worse. Even more cray-cray than usual.”
She briefly glanced up. “That’s fair.”
“Uh-huh.” Regin downshifted, tires squealing as she swerved to dodge a roadkil -bound possum.
“But what about your own cray-crayness, Regin? You’ve been behaving very badly of late. Getting high
on intoxispel s and picking fights. You are acting out, and it simply must stop unless you invite me to join in.”
Also fair. But what else was Regin supposed to do? A year ago, she and Lucia had undertaken a
badass mission to discover a way to defeat the unkil able Cruach forever. Instead of merely imprisoning
him. They’d traveled al over the world together, risking their lives.
In other words, good times. But then Prince Garreth MacRieve, Lucia’s werewolf admirer, had started
fol owing her everywhere, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. Regin’s solution? Euthanasia.
Lucia’s solution to Regin’s solution? Leave her behind when she was nursing a hangover.
Abandoned me like last year’s wardrobe. Regin’s claws dug into the steering wheel. After a mil ennium of never leaving each other’s side. But last year’s wardrobe is determined to make a comeback.
“Nïx, you promised you’d tel me where Luce is if I did everything you asked me. I cleaned your room. I
took your Bentley to the shop after you went off-roading again. And I put in hours at the Lore foundling
house with those little punks.” Regin had begun to cal it the Lorphanage and predicted it’d stick. “I need to keep moving anyway. You know he’s returning soon.”
Aidan. With his heart-stopping smile and big, possessive hands. Though she longed to see her Viking
in any reincarnation, she’d decided that he might actual y live a ful life if he never found her.
Nïx sighed. “Have you truly given up al hope of finding a way to be with him?”
Regin glanced over at her, trying not to feel even a sliver of hope. “Any reason not to give up?”
“I believe my advice to you was ‘Go find and bang your berserker.’”
“Huh. Wel , see, I tried that, and it didn’t quite work out for me.” The last four times! “I just can’t … I’m not doing it again.” The guilt got worse with each reincarnation. She was his doom, might as wel deal the deathblow herself.
Aidan had been sword-struck in his first life, poisoned in his second, crushed during a shipwreck in his
third. In his fourth, he’d been shot. Al directly after she and his reincarnation had made love for the first time.
“Unless you can tel me things might be different this time?” Regin added. Damn, could she sound more
desperate? But Nïx helped other immortals with things like this. Why not me?
“What would you do to be with him, hmm? What would you sacrifice?”
“To break this curse, I would do just about any-thing.”
“Just about?” After long, tense moments, Nïx said, “I have no resolution to tel you.” She couldn’t
foresee everything, wasn’t all -knowing. Instead, she’d been dubbed the Ever-Knowing, because her
visions had appeared without fail for three mil ennia.
“No resolution?” She hadn’t expected Nïx to pony up the answer to a thousand-year-old curse before
Regin ran her next red light, but a crumb of hope would’ve been nice.
“No matter,” Nïx said. “You must find something to occupy yourself. There’s more to life than
destroying
Accession with any remaining sanity intact. And there wasn’t a whole lot remaining.
“Don’t fret, love,” Nïx said reassuringly.
“How can I not fret …” Regin trailed off. “You’re talking to the freaking bat!”
She tickled its bel y with a claw. “Coochy-coo.” Regin swore the bat smacked its lips with contentment,
snuggling into her arm.
Had Nïx been feeding that little winged rat her blood? “Don’t you know that those things spread Cujos?
Damn, Nïxie, you’re getting worse. Even more cray-cray than usual.”
She briefly glanced up. “That’s fair.”
“Uh-huh.” Regin downshifted, tires squealing as she swerved to dodge a roadkil -bound possum.
“But what about your own cray-crayness, Regin? You’ve been behaving very badly of late. Getting high
on intoxispel s and picking fights. You are acting out, and it simply must stop unless you invite me to join in.”
Also fair. But what else was Regin supposed to do? A year ago, she and Lucia had undertaken a
badass mission to discover a way to defeat the unkil able Cruach forever. Instead of merely imprisoning
him. They’d traveled al over the world together, risking their lives.
In other words, good times. But then Prince Garreth MacRieve, Lucia’s werewolf admirer, had started
fol owing her everywhere, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. Regin’s solution? Euthanasia.
Lucia’s solution to Regin’s solution? Leave her behind when she was nursing a hangover.
Abandoned me like last year’s wardrobe. Regin’s claws dug into the steering wheel. After a mil ennium of never leaving each other’s side. But last year’s wardrobe is determined to make a comeback.
“Nïx, you promised you’d tel me where Luce is if I did everything you asked me. I cleaned your room. I
took your Bentley to the shop after you went off-roading again. And I put in hours at the Lore foundling
house with those little punks.” Regin had begun to cal it the Lorphanage and predicted it’d stick. “I need to keep moving anyway. You know he’s returning soon.”
Aidan. With his heart-stopping smile and big, possessive hands. Though she longed to see her Viking
in any reincarnation, she’d decided that he might actual y live a ful life if he never found her.
Nïx sighed. “Have you truly given up al hope of finding a way to be with him?”
Regin glanced over at her, trying not to feel even a sliver of hope. “Any reason not to give up?”
“I believe my advice to you was ‘Go find and bang your berserker.’”
“Huh. Wel , see, I tried that, and it didn’t quite work out for me.” The last four times! “I just can’t … I’m not doing it again.” The guilt got worse with each reincarnation. She was his doom, might as wel deal the deathblow herself.
Aidan had been sword-struck in his first life, poisoned in his second, crushed during a shipwreck in his
third. In his fourth, he’d been shot. Al directly after she and his reincarnation had made love for the first time.
“Unless you can tel me things might be different this time?” Regin added. Damn, could she sound more
desperate? But Nïx helped other immortals with things like this. Why not me?
“What would you do to be with him, hmm? What would you sacrifice?”
“To break this curse, I would do just about any-thing.”
“Just about?” After long, tense moments, Nïx said, “I have no resolution to tel you.” She couldn’t
foresee everything, wasn’t all -knowing. Instead, she’d been dubbed the Ever-Knowing, because her
visions had appeared without fail for three mil ennia.
“No resolution?” She hadn’t expected Nïx to pony up the answer to a thousand-year-old curse before
Regin ran her next red light, but a crumb of hope would’ve been nice.
“No matter,” Nïx said. “You must find something to occupy yourself. There’s more to life than
destroying
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