Page 146 of Blood Mosaic

Oleg smiled a little bit and picked up the stout, leather-bound collection of old fairy tales. “I need to update the library here. Which one is your favorite?”

Tatyana looked at him. Something about the stoic predator felt sad that night. If she didn’t know how dangerous he was, she might even call him fragile.

I don’t know what you and Oleg are, but if you act cruelly toward him, I will finish the job that Zara started.

Tatyana walked to the bed and sat on the edge. “My favorite?”

She thought about it. She’d probably read about half the stories in one form or another growing up. Her grandmother had an illustrated copy of the same book at the farm, and she’d spent many nights looking through the pictures even before she could read the stories. “I don’t know. Probably ‘Ivan, the Firebird, and the Wolf.’”

“Oh?” Oleg kicked his feet up on the footrest by the chair and leaned on the arm of the chair. “Why that one?”

“Because Ivan gets everything he wants in the end and lives happily ever after.” She stretched her legs out. “Isn’t that the best kind of story? Life is depressing enough. If I’m reading a story, I want a happy ending.”

Oleg nodded. “Valid point.”

“What about you? Are these your fairy tales? Or did you learn different ones when you were a child?”

“I don’t remember being a child,” Oleg mused. “Though I must have been once. My human memories are very faint.”

“Hmm.”

He picked up the book. “But these are good stories. I had a mistress in Saint Petersburg at one time who had four children, and I used to read these stories to them.”

“To your mistress’s children?” Tatyana tried to imagine the lethal vampire reading fairy tales to children.

“Yes. She was a widow, so the children were part of the arrangement.” Oleg paged through the old book. “And I enjoyed spending time with them. The little boy—there were three girls and one boy—I think he must have suspected what I was, because he loved the vampire story in this book.”

Tatyana curled her lip. “That’s a horrible story.”

“I know.” Oleg smiled. “Children are so morbid. It’s the thing I like most about them. He wanted to hear it over and over. The vampire is killed at the end of the story. I probably should have guessed he would grow up to hate me.”

“Why did he hate you?”

“Because I wouldn’t marry his mother.” Oleg snapped the book shut. “It was better that I didn’t, but of course he didn’t know that. I had to leave when he was sixteen. I’d been with all of them for too long.”

Tatyana nodded. “They would have noticed that you weren’t growing older.”

“Yes. But I provided for her until she died.”

“And your mate didn’t mind that you had a mistress?”

He shook his head and set the book back on the table. “Luana had her own interests by then. We had separate lives, but we were still friendly.”

“What is your favorite story?” She nodded at the book. “Other than the vampire story.”

“‘The Giant Turnip,’ of course.”

Tatyana burst into laughter.

Oleg smiled too. “I can’t believe you even had to ask. Get dressed. I have the night off, and there is something I wanted to show you.”

“Are we having more lessons tonight?” Her shoulders slumped. “I want a break.”

“No lessons.” Oleg stood and walked to the edge of the bed, standing in front of her and straddling her legs as he lookeddown to meet her eyes. “Unless you’re in the mood for some very particular lessons about how to control your fangs.”

Tatyana held her breath when she saw the length of his erection behind his trousers. Her mouth watered, and she felt her body soften just at the thought of more sex with Oleg.

He’s trying to distract you. And himself.

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