17
" Cade hiked his shoulders, pretending nonchalance. "Tell me about the vampire, or not, dove. But none of us really wants to be here."
"I'll tell you," Nïx said, her gaze rapt on his horns. "But only if you let me lick your rock-hard horns—"
"Nïx!" Regin's attention snapped back to this conversation.
Eyes wide, Nïx cried, "Who said that?? I didn't say that! Oh, very well—the vampire's named Conrad Wroth. Best be careful with that one. He single-handedly took down Bothrops the Lich."
"That was Wroth?" He'd heard of the assassin before. Cade grudgingly admitted that the leech did nice work, dealing deaths with a unique, gruesome signature to them. Which was important in their line of business. "Where is he?"
"To find him, you need to trail the one who seeks him in sleep."
"Soothsayerese? I don't speak it," he said, but she didn't elaborate. "That's all you're going to divvy?"
"Wanna know more?" Nïx raised her brows. "Then you should have let me lick your horns. "
― Kresley Cole , Dark Needs at Night's Edge (Immortals After Dark, #4)