That made her frown. "Stephanie said something about our having the same energy signature or something, but I haven't a clue what she's talking about. Is there another way to tell?"
"There are symptoms," he acknowledged.
"Like what?" she asked.
"Like not being able to read or control each other," Basil offered.
Sherry blinked several times and then frowned. "But Stephanie said she couldn't read or control me."
He merely nodded like that was no big deal, but Sherry was considering this with mounting alarm.
"Jeez. That doesn't mean I'm her life mate, does it? She doesn't think that, does she? 'Cause if so, she's going to be sorely disappointed. I am so not into girls. I mean, sure I've kissed one when drunk, but that's the limit of my experimentation in that area. I'm not into anything else. I like the cock."
Sherry realized what she was saying only as those words left her lips and it was far too late to call them back. Even worse, Basileios had definitely not missed them. His eyes had gone as wide as saucers and his lower jaw was nearly on the ground. Closing her eyes, Sherry pressed her hands to her suddenly hot cheeks and groaned, then opened her eyes and began to babble like the idiot she was.
"Sorry. One of the boys who works for me has a T-shirt that says that. Though I think it actually says, 'I love the cock,' not 'I like it.' And it has an arrow pointing to the side, which I just don't get because it's not like there's one floating in the air beside him . . . well, unless he has like a seven-foot boyfriend standing beside him," she added with a frown, then shook her head and continued, "Besides he also has a T-shirt claiming he's the Vagina Fan Club President, so he's either bicurious or I'm not getting the meaning of the cock T-shirt."
A choked sound came from Basileios when she dared to pause briefly, and Sherry quickly added, "Of course, he doesn't wear them while working. He just wears them into work and changes before starting his shift. I would never let one of my employees wear a shirt like that on the floor. Heck, normally I wouldn't even ever say something like that. It's just been such a crazy day and I really think maybe my brain has been taxed beyond its limit by everything that's happened, and jeez I hope it doesn't mean there's something wrong with me that I said I like the cock, and not that I love it like the T-shirt says. I didn't mean--"
Sherry stopped her babbling abruptly when Basileios slapped his hand over her mouth. He didn't do it violently, but his hand was suddenly covering her mouth, preventing her from speaking, and really, she was grateful to the bottom of her heart that he did. Her words were still echoing in her own ears and making her cringe, and honestly, she had no idea why she'd said any of it. Maybe she was being controlled, she thought hopefully.
"I am very glad that you like . . . men," Basil said carefully, "rather than females. Thank you for sharing that with me. However, the fact that Stephanie cannot read or control you does not necessarily mean you are a possible life mate for her. Some mortals are simply harder to read than others, either because of some physical ailment, or madness, or because--"
Sherry's eyes had widened as he spoke, but now she pushed his hand away. "You think I'm crazy?"
"What?" he asked with surprise. "No, of course not."
"Then I'm sick?" she asked with a frown.
"No," he assured her, patting her arm. "No, I am sure you are fine. I suspect you have unwittingly spent a great deal of time in the company of an immortal and have gained some natural skills in blocking our efforts to read your thoughts."
"Seriously?" she asked with surprise.
"Yes, seriously," he assured her, and then added, "Besides, Stephanie is young yet and she is used to being able to read everyone. She may have given reading you a cursory try and stopped when she encountered the first bit of blocking."
Sherry nodded absently, but wasn't really paying attention. She was now running through a list in her head of everyone she had ever known, trying to sort out who might have been an immortal. But she set aside that effort for later when Basil announced, "Lucian can read you."
Those words were enough to alarm her and make her try to remember what she'd been thinking while in Lucian's presence.
"And my being only a couple years younger than him, I should be able to as well," Basil continued, distracting her from that worry as well, and then he acknowledged, "But I cannot."
Sherry let her breath out on a slow sigh, unsure whether she should be happy about that.
"And that is usually enough to make it pretty certain we are life mates," he continued. "However, Stephanie's not being able to read or control you either does make that a little less conclusive . . . at least in my mind. Fortunately, there are other symptoms to help figure out if you are my life mate."
"Like what?" she asked curiously, thinking the man definitely talked like a lawyer.
"Well, after a while, immortals grow tired of food and other pleasures and refrain from them except on special occasions and family gatherings," he explained. "The arrival of a life mate can reawaken those hungers."
Sherry nodded. Stephanie had already told her that. Tilting her head, she asked, "And are you hungry?"
Basil grimaced. "Not yet, but I have not really encountered food with you either . . . unless you count dog food, which I do not."
"No, I don't think dog food counts," Sherry agreed with amusement, and then glanced down as she felt a nudge at her leg. Two of the dogs were done eating and had come to investigate. They were sniffing her lower legs with interest. Her gaze slid to the other two dogs as they both finished and came to join their friends. "It looks like they're done. Why don't we let them out and then go back to the house and see if food gets your interest?"
Basil nodded, his shoulders relaxing, and it was only then she realized he'd been a bit tense. She wondered about that because the feel she was getting off of him was a completely calm, mellow vibe. In fact, it was that vibe that had helped her relax so swiftly with him. Now it seemed he wasn't as relaxed about this situation as she'd thought. According to Stephanie, finding a life mate was epic, so if this was his excitement, the guy was a walking tranquilizer . . . She liked it, Sherry thought as she followed him to the door, the dogs on her heels. She could do with a little tranquility in her life.
They were walking back up the hall when the first dog nudged her right hand, scooping his nose under it in invitation. Sherry gave him, or her, a quick pet as she walked, and then did the same to the dog on her left when that one nudged her as well. She supposed that meant she'd been accepted by the pack, which was a good thing. She didn't want to be nervous around these beautiful animals. Not that she planned to stay long, but walking out to a car when it was time to leave would be nerve-wracking if the dogs hadn't decided to like her.
The minute Basil opened the door, the dogs dropped back behind Sherry to let her exit first. They then followed, but stayed close until Basil said, "Go ahead. Guard."
All four dogs took off at once, headed around the house toward the front of it.
"Do they all guard the front yard only?" Sherry asked curiously as he closed the door to the outbuilding and ushered her away.
"No. They are probably heading up to the gate to greet Francis and Russell before they start their rounds," Basil explained, taking her arm and turning her toward the house. "Now let's go see if I have a sudden interest in food."
Four
"What is that god-awful smell?" Basil had just opened the back door of the house, and the most horrendous smell he'd encountered in a long time slapped him in the face as he did.
"What? I don't . . . Oh," Sherry said as the scent apparently reached her. She wrinkled her nose and said, "Something's burning."
"Yes," Basil agreed, hurrying for the kitchen, where the odor seemed to be coming from. He rushed into the room, surprised to find it empty, and then paused, and peered around trying to find the source of the smell. The scent so drenched the air it was hard to tell what was causing it. He'd expected to find the room on fire.
"
The soup," Sherry said, pushing past him to get to the stove. She turned off the burner and quickly picked up the pot, intending to shift it to a cool burner, but just as quickly dropped it back down with a yowl of pain.
"Here." Basil was immediately at her side, urging her to the sink to run cold water over her hands. The pot had been hot, he guessed.
"It's all right, they aren't burned," she assured him, but didn't fight his putting her hands under the tap. "It just hurt and surprised me."
Basil nodded and patted her arm. He then moved to take care of the pot himself, saying, "Still, keep them under the water for a minute or two to be sure."
He moved the pot as she'd intended to do, wrinkling his nose with disgust at the stench coming off of it. The soup had smelled quite good when he entered the kitchen earlier, but now . . . Basil shuddered at the thought of anyone trying to eat it. Finished with the pot, he moved to the windows and began opening them to allow the smell out.
"How are your hands?" he asked as he worked.
"Good," Sherry assured him, and he heard the water shut off. "A little tender but that will go away."
Basil glanced over his shoulder as she finished drying her hands with a dish towel and leaned to open the windows above the sink to help him out.
"There," Sherry said a moment later when every window was open. "Hopefully the smell will leave quickly."
Basil nodded and hoped she was right. Immortals had a better sense of smell than mortals and this was just horrible to him.
"Oh no!"
That cry came from Sam as she rushed into the kitchen and hurried to her soup. "Damn," she cursed, grabbing a large spoon and checking the bottom of the pot before sagging with defeat.
"Maybe we can save it," Sherry said sympathetically as she moved to the woman's side.
"No, there's an inch of burnt crud on the bottom," Sam said unhappily. "The flavor will be all through the soup." Sighing, she set the spoon on the counter and carried the pot to the sink. As she poured the soup down the garbage disposal, she shook her head and muttered, "I only stepped away for a minute to go to the bathroom, but then little Gemma started crying and I stopped to check on her. Leigh came in then and I was about to come back down, but of course then Luka started fussing too and . . ." She shook her head helplessly. "The next thing I knew a really bad smell was drifting into the room. God, it stinks, doesn't it?"
Sherry smiled crookedly as the woman waved her hand in front of her face, but didn't want to insult her by agreeing. It did smell, though. To change the subject, she asked, "Who are Gemma and Luka?"
"They are Leigh and Lucian's babies," Basil explained, leaning against the counter next to her. "They are twins and their birth was part of the reason I came up for a visit. It gave me an excuse to visit Katricia without her thinking I was checking on her."
"Ah," Sherry said with amusement. "But you were? Checking on her I mean."
"Of course. I am a father," he said with a shrug.
Sherry smiled and then glanced back to Sam. Seeing the slouch to her shoulders and her unhappy expression as she ran the garbage disposal, Sherry patted her back sympathetically. "It smelled amazing the first time I came into the kitchen. I bet it tasted even better. I'll help you make more if you want."
Sam grimaced as she turned off the garbage disposal and tap. "I don't have the ingredients to make more. Well, I have the beer, I only used one of them in the recipe, but I don't have any cheese, or cream or . . ." She shrugged with disgust and dumped soap into the black-bottomed pot, and then began to run hot water into it. "I guess it's pizza again tonight."
Basil saw alarm cross Sherry's face, and then she moved to the refrigerator saying, "There must be something here to--Holy crap!"
Curious, Basil moved over to see what had brought that reaction. Sherry had the fridge door open but was standing in the opening, gaping at the contents, so he had to move up behind her and peer over her shoulder. He winced when he saw that aside from milk, butter, and one wilted celery stalk, the fridge held only a six pack of beer with one missing, and bags and bags of blood.
"Sorry," Sam said with a grimace. "Tonight is grocery shopping night. I usually go to the twenty-four-hour metro at around midnight to avoid lines. Besides, Mortimer likes to go with me and he's so not a morning person." She glanced around and added, "Justin is constantly eating. It makes it hard to keep food in this place, but there are some frozen meals in the freezer if you're hungry and don't want to wait for pizza."
When Sherry glanced his way in question, Basileios shook his head. "The smell has completely killed any possibility of my wanting food, but if you are hungry . . ."
Sighing, she shook her head and closed the door. "I'm not hungry. I had a couple bites of pizza at the restaurant. This was just to see if--" She broke off with a self-conscious glance toward Sam, and then asked in a near whisper, "Are there other ways to know?"
All immortals had superior hearing, so Basil wasn't surprised when Sam asked absently, "To know what?"
Sherry bit her lip and met his gaze briefly, and then admitted, "To know if he's my life mate . . . or if I'm his, I guess."
"Oh." Sam winced. "I suppose this has put a wrinkle in the enjoying food test, huh?"
"I fear so," Basileios said gently.
Sam nodded. "Well, then there's always the shared pleasure bit."
"Shared pleasure?" Sherry asked curiously. "What's that?"
Sam opened her mouth, closed it, blushed, then quickly dried her hands, murmuring, "I think I'll let Basil explain it to you, or show you. That's really more effective anyway. I'll leave you two alone."
Sherry stared after her with surprise when the woman rushed from the room. When she then turned to peer at him, Basil smiled weakly.
Clearing his throat, he began, "Food is not the only pleasure we lose interest in over time. Sex too, becomes . . . er . . . boring?"
"Boring?" Her eyebrows rose at this news. "You're kidding, right? I mean Stephanie mentioned something about life mates making sex mind-blowing, but--"
"Even sex grows boring after several centuries," he assured her solemnly.
"No way! Sex is awesome," Sherry said with a laugh, and then added, "You must have been doing it wrong."
Basil stiffened slightly at the diagnosis, but then noted the twinkle in her eyes and realized she was teasing him again. He was beginning to recognize when she was, he noted, and found that fact reassuring. Even so, he answered her seriously. "Skill has nothing to do with it. All immortals eventually grow tired of it after a time. However, meeting a life mate stimulates a renewed interest in that just as it does food."
"Wow," Sherry breathed, and for a moment he thought she was amazed at what he'd just said . . . and she was, just not in the way he'd thought. He came to that conclusion when she added, "Only a lawyer could make passion sound so mundane. Seriously? A life mate 'stimulates a renewed interest'?" She tilted her head, and asked, "That translates to my presence should make you horny, right?"
The twinkle in her eye took away any offense from her question, and actually made him laugh. She certainly had a way with words he thought as he nodded.
"I see," Sherry said slowly, and then asked, "But what about this shared pleasure business?"
"Ah." He floundered briefly, and then simply said, "If you were my life mate and we . . . er . . . when I touch you I should feel the pleasure you experience and vice versa."
Sherry seemed to consider that, and then suddenly reached up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. Caught by surprise, Basil didn't react at first, and before he could, she eased back to her feet to tilt her head and eye him with pursed lips. "Nothing. Maybe we aren't--"
This time Basil silenced Sherry by kissing her. He couldn't help himself. He'd been watching her lips as she spoke since meeting her, and they were full, and pouty and soft looking. Really they were quite the sexiest lips he'd ever seen, and he'd seen a lot of lips over the millennia since he'd been born. But he also did it because he didn't want t
o hear her say that she was not his life mate. Sherry wasn't petite and blond. She wasn't biddable. Actually, she was nothing like the woman he'd thought his life mate would be, but she felt right. It felt right to be with her. He had no other way to describe it. He'd expected to be nervous and even a little anxious with her. After all, she was believed to be his life mate, a woman he wanted to like and accept him, a woman he wanted to convince to spend the rest of her life with him. He should be nervous and anxious. Instead, he had immediately felt comfortable and at peace in her presence. He didn't feel he had to monitor himself around her; he didn't have to edit himself. He could just be himself and that was enough.
That being the case, it was something of a shock when his mouth covered hers and passion roared up through him like a back draft. He hadn't been prepared for that. He'd thought it would be a slow buildup, lips meshing, tongues dancing, and heat sliding up through him. Basil wasn't ready for the explosion of heat that stole his breath along with his common sense. He even forgot where he was and that anyone could walk in at any moment. Otherwise, he would have damned near ripped her clothes off and copulated with Sherry on the kitchen counter top.
He didn't . . . but he wanted to, and it came damned close. The moment the wave of passion rolled over him, it was as if a leash had been removed. Basil sprang on her like a slavering beast, his hands closing around her and pressing her close before lifting her off her feet so that he could bear her forward to the kitchen counter. He'd barely set her there when his hands were moving, trying to touch every available inch of her at once. They glided up her sides, slid around her shoulders to press her closer so that her breasts nudged his chest, then his hands slid down and around to find her breasts through the cloth of her shirt. But they paused there only briefly before dropping away and down and around to find her behind. He squeezed with delight as she sucked at his tongue, and he tugged her lower body tight against his own even as he urged her upper body back with his kiss.
Sherry was in turn gasping for breath and moaning, her body shifting, writhing, and arching, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out how she'd got there. One minute she was suggesting that perhaps she wasn't Basil's life mate, and the next his mouth was on hers and she was going up in flames. It all happened so fast. Caught by surprise as she was by Basil's kissing her so abruptly, Sherry didn't react at first. She remained completely still. But then his tongue urged her lips apart and . . . well, frankly, all hell broke loose in her body. Her brain shut right down and her body came to shuddering life in a way she'd never experienced before. And she couldn't get enough.