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“It’s over, vampire. Admit defeat.”
“Over by whose standards! I haven’t lost yet.”
Aster set his teeth and channeled his energy into his right thumb, which, at the moment, he was moving erratically to avoid being pinned by Dante’s.
The Sun Lord’s smile widened. “This pile of coins in front of me says otherwise.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of a comeback?”
“Pride drives nations to ruin.”
“Your hand are larger! You have an unfair advantage.”
“Do not use size as an excuse for weakness. If you desire to win, outmaneuver me.”
Dante’s thumb caught the sharpened tip of Aster’s fingernail but did not pin it. “Shall I drain your blood?” Aster asked sweetly.
“You never keep your concentration once you latch. I would win before you finished swallowing.”
“Hmph!”
Maybe stabbing him with a nail would work. Aster thrust his thumb only to have Dante catch the edge of his fingernail again, but he escaped before the five seconds were up.
“I give that sorcerer credit. This game is far more amusing than it seemed when he first described it.” As though to show off, Dante raised a glass of wine to his lips with his left hand and momentarily shut his eyes. “This is an excellent varietal.”
Aster’s next attempt to stab Dante ended miserably. He playfully batted his eyelashes. “Planning to get me drunk later?”
Across the sitting room, Morvay moaned. “Do you have to flirt where other people can hear you?”
“This is my house!” Aster glared but did not take his eyes off of Dante’s hand. “How many times have I had to endure your disgusting stories? If you’re going to stay, be quiet or make yourself useful.”
He could hear Morvay’s approach but dared not look his way.
“Want me to suck him off?” Morvay offered, hovering over Dante’s shoulder.
“Don’t you dare touch him.”
“Ugh, gross. I can’t stand you being all serious like this.”
“Then find someone else to bother.”
By some miracle, Morvay listened and flew out the window, and Aster caught the edge of Dante’s thumb. He experienced three and a half seconds of winner’s euphoria before Dante made a glorious escape.
Tssk.
Aster cursed under his breath. Every other round they’d played, Dante had won easily, so why had he failed to claim victory so far? Was it pity? Was he allowing Aster to win? No, that wasn’t in his nature. This was their, what, twentieth rematch? It only followed that Aster would have a better sense of Dante’s tactics after this many battles. But to outmaneuver him . . .
Aster licked his lips and uncrossed his legs, pressing his spare hand against his mouth as he scowled in concentration. Making the kind of desperate little moan he usually reserved for after dark, he skimmed his foot up Dante’s calf and sought out his groin.
“That’s cheating.” Dante’s voice was strained.
“But, my lord . . .” Aster put on an innocent face and massaged between Dante’s legs with his foot. “Weren’t you the one who taught me there is no cheating in war?” He made a show of licking his fangs.
Dante drew a sharp breath, pinned Aster’s thumb, and on the count of five launched himself in his direction. Laughing in delight, Aster spilled the remaining coins over Dante’s head and enfolded him in his arms.
“Congratulations, my lord. You’ve won yourself a vampire. Whatever will you do with him?”
Outside of the window where he had fled for peace, Morvay screamed.