Kate digested this news, her mind processing that he had written factual history books before his vampire romances. She processed that the first vampire romance had characters named after his parents, the second was about Lissianna and Gregory—a social worker and therapist, just like the real Lissianna and Gregory—and the third was about Rachel and Etienne, a coroner and a game designer. It seemed pretty obvious that he was still writing historical fact. "How old are you?"
"Six hundred and twelve," he answered calmly. As if it were a normal enough age. Dear Lord, Kate realized with dismay. She had lost her mind. She whimpered again.
"It's okay, Kate." Luc brushed the hair back from her face. "I know this is a lot to accept, but it's okay."
"How can it be okay? You're a vampire. And you bit me." She still couldn't believe he'd done that. And why had it felt so good?
"It was just a little nibble," he said. When she glared at him, he tried again. "I'm sorry I bit you, but I was hungry… and you smell so delicious." His eyes dropped to her neck as he spoke, and longing crossed his face. Alarm coursed through her, and Kate covered her neck with both hands.
Much to her irritation, he began to chuckle. His chest shook against hers.
"This isn't funny," she snapped. "How would you like to feel like a slab of veal?"
"My dear Kate. You are hardly a slab of veal," he said. Forcing a solemn expression, he added, "You're at least a steak."
Her mouth dropped open in horror. Lucern took advantage of the moment and closed his mouth over hers. Much to Kate's chagrin, the passion he had ignited in her the night before immediately flamed to life again. Apparently, her body didn't care that he was a bloodsucking demon. It liked him just fine. More than fine. And now Kate was having to fight both him and herself. It was a losing battle. A bare moment passed before she gave in with a wrenching moan and slid her arms around his neck.
It was all Lucern was waiting for, apparently, for a heartbeat later she found the sheet that had been caught between them gone and her robe wide open. Which not only left her naked beneath him, but alerted her to the fact that Lucern Argeneau slept in the nude.
Her eyes widened. He slept in the nude and in a bed. When he broke their kiss to nibble at her ear, Kate gasped, "What about your coffin?"
"I left it at home." His voice was a velvet growl laced with laughter.
Kate wasn't sure if he was joking or not, but she stopped worrying about it when his hand closed gently around one breast and squeezed. Moaning, she arched into the hot caress; then her eyes popped open. "Why aren't you cold? I thought vampires were cold."
"I told you, I'm not dead," Lucern reminded her.
"Oh, yeah," Kate muttered. Then Luc claimed her lips again. Shifting down her body, he enclosed one breast in his warm, wet mouth. He suckled on it like a hungry baby, his tongue flicking her nipple as he did. Kate suddenly didn't mind being dinner. Which made her think. "What about garlic?"
"Love it," he said, and shifted his mouth to her other breast. "Someday I'll rub it all over your body and lick it off as proof."
Kate squirmed at the erotic image, then realized it was not unsimilar to the one they were already playing out. She was naked; he was licking her. Dear God! She lost track of her thoughts as his hand slid between her thighs.
"Luc," she breathed. Much to her amazement, he stopped, heaved a sigh and shifted to sit beside her.
"Okay. Let's get this out of the way. We're obviously not going to get anywhere until we do," he said with exasperation.
Realizing he'd thought she was going to ask another question, Kate opened her mouth to correct him, then decided against it. She really did want to understand.
"My great-great-grandfather was from what you people call Atlantis."
Kate recoiled. This was the very last thing she'd expected him to say. He sounded like a nut.
Lucern ignored her reaction. "As some have speculated, Atlantis was far advanced scientifically. My great-great-grandfather was a scientist. Just before the city's fall, he developed what people today call nanos—tiny little computerized gizmos. I won't bother explaining the whole of it, but suffice it to say that he combined the science of nanos with microbiology to create microscopic little nanos—a virus of sorts—that when shot into the bloodstream, live there and replicate. They're a parasite of sorts," he explained. "They live off the host, but in return repair and regenerate the host. Which keeps the host, and in turn themselves, young and vital for an indeterminate length of time."
"A virus?" Kate asked with disgust.
"It cannot be caught by touching, and it cannot be caught by kissing."
"What about biting?" she asked, her hand going unconsciously to her neck.
"No. Not by biting. The nanos have to be either shot directly into the bloodstream or consumed."
"Like when Dracula cuts himself and presses his wrist to Mina's mouth?"
"Dracula!" Lucern heaved out a sigh. "Bram's character was based on a cruel, boastful, barbarous bastard. And if he could have kept his mouth shut whilst drinking, Bram Stoker would have never written that damned book—which was mostly wrong due to the fact that his informant was dragged off before he could say too much."