"Do I want to know what has happened to me?" I groaned. I reached for a boob because if it was a toxin-induced delusion, what was the worst that can happen?
"Careful, I haven't been with a male in 1800 years, my Preciously Odd sss," she laughed.
"I like challenges," I bantered with my mental conjuration. Definitely mind-reading.
"I am not the creation of your fevered dreams, my Cáel," she flicked my nose. "I have pushed you near death to place a curse on the Host. As a side benefit, I am able to have metaphysical contact with you."
"To date you, I have to have a near-death experience? I don't know if I should admire 1800 years of male common sense, or that last guy who risked everything for one night with you," I shrugged.
"So much compassion...and so little fear," she petted my scalp
