Lucien's Khamsin by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

sure they think we did right by them.”
    “Perhaps but they’ve known the ills as well as the boons to mankind so maybe it’s a wash, as they used to say.”
    “Speaking of ills that have befallen man,” Petros muttered. “What am I going to do about Lady Alexa?”
    Sighing again, Lucien turned over to lie on his back and look up at the stars. The heavens were crystal clear with no clouds in sight and the moon was full and bright. “What do you want to do about her?” he countered as he crossed his hands behind his head and drew his knees up.
    “The woman is a veritable pest,” Petros complained. “I can’t seem to fuck her enough.”
    “Is that your problem or hers?”
    Petros grunted. “A bit of both, I think. She tells me I’m free to screw whomever I please but…” He shrugged. “Keeping track of one woman is bad enough. Having to play court to another wears me out just thinking on it.”
    “Yet you offered to take Khamsin sight unseen,” Lucien reminded him.
    “That was to entice you,” Petros stated. “I knew what you’d say.”
    Lucien turned his head to look at his friend. “And when you saw her?”
    Petros flinched. “You could have knocked me over with a parakeet’s feather. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”
    A gentle smile hovered over Lucien’s lips. “You would have sent her to Dorcha to keep me from seeing her.”
    Petros looked down at the ground. “I thought it best. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
    “It’s too late for that, my friend,” Lucien chided. “It hurts to look at her, but I’m trying to ignore the similarity between them.”
    “What will you do with her?”
    Lucien wagged his brows but even in the moon glow, Petros did not miss that reaction. He grinned. “You’re sure?”
    “There is a passing resemblance to Magdalena, but not enough for me to keep comparing the two of them. It’s been lonely without Sibylline, although I’d never admit that to the witch herself.”
    “Don’t you think she knew? Why else send the wench to you?”
    “I suppose, but she’ll never get me to admit it.”
    “And the wench? She seems a handful. Will you be able to break her to saddle without too much trouble?”
    Lucien had a smile on his full lips. “I’m preparing her, but it may take awhile. She’s willing—whether she knows it or not—so it is but a matter of being patient with her. I believe her worth the effort.”
    “That’s another thing about Alexa,” Petros said. “She wants to be of the Blood.”
    “I don’t see that as a problem,” Lucien commented. “You have my permission if you wish it. Do you have some concern about turning her?”
    “She’ll have power I’m not so sure I wish her to possess,” Petros stated. “I think I prefer her as my thrall rather than my equal. What of the special one? There is no question of you turning her. The law forbids it. Won’t you be hurt even more as she ages then dies, Luc?”
    Lucien was quiet for so long it seemed he might have fallen asleep. When at last he spoke, there was firm resolve in his deep voice.
    “The law states that I can not coerce her into becoming One with the Blood nor can I turn her without approval of the Clan Tribunal. There are provisions that would allow her to ask to become one of us if she wanted that of her own free will.”
    “True,” Petros agreed, “but every drop of her blood is precious to all Revenants. It would have to be drained completely and replaced with yours. She might not survive such an ordeal.”
    “She will,” Lucien said with confidence. “I’ll make sure she does.”
    Petros’ forehead puckered. “You already have feelings for this wench, Luc?”
    “Don’t you think it past time I moved on?”
    “You know Tina and I have been nudging you to do that for centuries, but why now?”
    Lucien exhaled slowly. “There is something about this wench.” He smiled ruefully. “As Tina said, she’s going to give me a run for my money.”
    Petros’ frown