"Poison." One corner of his lush mouth lifted in bitter wryness. "An accurate labeling. A blade dipped in liquid silver. Now that the liquid poison is within me, it will spread slowly. Already it weakens me greatly."

"Who stabbed you?"

"My Queen, Mona Sera."

"Of course, your Queen," I said, wondering once again if he was mad. "Is she visiting from a foreign country? And why did she stab you?"

"I was leaving her," he said simply, "and this was her parting gift. Usually a wound like this would heal within several hours, but she punished me by using a silver blade."

"Why is silver bad?"

"Because the inherent quality of silver runs afoul with our bodies, causing us to then heal like humans. Slowly."

Like humans.

"Sure. So you're not human."

He flashed me a curious look. "Of course not."

"Then what are you?"

"Do you truly not know?"

"Why should I know?"

"Because you are as I am."

I swallowed. "Which is…"

"Monère. The children of the moon."

"Of course," I soothed. "Children of the moon." This guy was a total wacko.

"I am not mad, as you think." Frowning, he looked deep into me, probing with the dagger of his power so that I sensed again that arcing heat from before.

"Ah, that explains it," he breathed, wonder in his eyes. "You are a Mixed Blood."

"Mixed Blood?"

"Yes. A small part of you is human."

"A small part?"

"A quarter, I believe."

"I'm totally human as far as I'm concerned—a head, four limbs, two eyes…" I said, backing away.

"No." He reached his hand out to me. "Don't go. There is even more. You are a Queen."

"A Queen! That's a bunch of crock. I'm not even a Beauty Queen in Queens. I'm just a nurse."

"No, you don't understand. You have aphidy, the unique halo of fragrance inherent only in a Queen. All Monère men are drawn to you because of this."