Now Comes the Night (29 page)

An instant later, Conrad’s fangs sliced smoothly and almost painlessly through Damian’s skin. The rush of venom that followed after saved him the trouble of responding. He relaxed, grunting wordlessly, as blessed relief washed over him. For tonight, at least, his faith had not been misplaced. Conrad’s venom was benign, heady and intoxicating, strong enough to make Damian’s head spin, but gentle just the same. It bore no relation to the acid-like substance with which Conrad had twice burned and scarred him—not that Damian held that against his lover.

The second time Conrad hurt him Damian had known exactly what would happen, he’d walked into the situation with his eyes wide open. Conrad had been on the verge of death, half-crazed with starvation, and still he’d tried to protect Damian, begging him to walk away, ordering him to keep his distance rather than try and help.

It had been Damian’s own choice not to let Conrad die. Not that he’d ever have considered any other option. The first time…well, that had been Damian’s fault as well, hadn’t it? He had become too careless. He’d forgotten he was playing with fire. He’d forgotten what manner of creature he was dealing with. It was Damian’s own foolish actions that had caused Conrad to lose control, and that was a mistake he’d never cease regretting…

After a minute, Conrad retracted his fangs. He lapped tenderly at Damian’s neck, long licks with his tongue meant to heal, meant to close the small wounds he’d made. Damian’s heart swelled with love, joy, gratitude. He was still amazed by the turn his life had recently taken. How lucky he was to have gotten a second chance. How lucky not to have lost this forever.

“There now,” Conrad murmured as he pressed his lips to Damian’s throat once again. His voice was as gruff as his kiss was gentle. “Good as new.”

“
Sí. Gracias
,” Damian replied, even though he knew it was only partially true, for everything left a mark of some sort, did it not? Every choice. Every mistake. The scars he bore, both mental and physical, would never truly fade.

Conrad heaved a satisfied sigh as he settled on his side with his head propped on his fist. The look on his face as he gazed at Damian was so speculative that Damian began to worry. “What is it?” he asked fretfully. “You seem…unusually pensive tonight.”

Conrad shrugged. “It’s nothing very much. I’ve just been thinking.”

“What about?”

“A matter we discussed quite recently, as it happens. But I’ve given it some more thought and—”

“Wait, this isn’t the piercing issue again, is it?” Damian might have been willing to endure pain for Conrad’s sake when it was a matter of life or death, but enough was enough. “You couldn’t possibly have been serious about that.”

A delighted smile curved Conrad’s lips. “Ah-ha. You
are
nervous, aren’t you? I knew it.”

“And you’re teasing.”

“Am I?”

Damian sighed. “I admit I would be a trifle concerned if I thought for even a moment that you meant what you’d said.”

“Well then, my love, you may rest easy.” Conrad pulled him closer, then brushed a soft kiss against Damian’s lips. “I promise I would never intentionally cause you pain.” His eyes cut to Damian’s neck and shoulder and his expression darkened. “Or, at least, never again.”

Damian nodded, burying his face against Conrad’s neck to hide his dismay. Never again…intentionally? Was that really what Conrad had meant to suggest—that, at some point in the past, he’d hurt Damian on purpose? Perhaps Damian had been too hasty to absolve him of guilt. That was too disturbing a concept to contemplate, so he changed the subject.

“So what was this matter upon which you’ve been thinking?”

Conrad hesitated for a moment. “I’ve decided you were right. It’s foolish to waste any more time apart, or for us to continue to maintain separate quarters. I’m tired of being cautious. I’d like you to move your things in here, as soon as possible.”

This time Damian must have been less-than-successful at hiding his emotions. Conrad grimaced as he continued, “That is, unless you feel there’s reason not to. Perhaps, after all, you do not feel safe enough yet to make such a move?”

“No, no.” Damian hurried to reassure him. “It’s just…well, you did seem so very adamant against it when last we spoke and…” And he hadn’t even considered the possibility that Conrad would expect him to give up his own rooms altogether. He enjoyed the autonomy they gave him, the sense of being independent. And, were Conrad to change his mind again and decide he did not want Damian with him anymore, having his own quarters would at least allow Damian to save face.

“Is it the lack of space that’s worrying you?” Conrad asked. “For I’ve given thought to that as well. We could easily enlarge this suite, you know. It would be a simple enough matter to install a couple of communicating doors and thus incorporate the next two rooms. In fact, I’ve been thinking, for some time, of doing so.”

“Have you?” Damian attempted to digest this additional information. Seeing as the rooms Conrad had indicated were already occupied—by Georgia—it seemed Damian wasn’t the only one who was in danger of being displaced, which raised all sorts of interesting questions. “Is Georgia leaving us then?”

Conrad’s jaw tightened. “No. On the contrary, I’ve asked her to stay on indefinitely, at least until I’m confident the threat against us has been eliminated.”

Damian shook his head. “I’ll never understand why you put such faith in her. She certainly doesn’t seem to have made much progress so far.”

“On that point, it seems, we are
all
in agreement, for she said as much herself. Which is exactly why I’ve agreed to let her bring in some help.”

Damian went still. “What kind of help?”

Again Conrad hesitated. “Christian,” he said at last. “She’s asked for Christian.”

“I see. And you’ve decided to give them
my
rooms—is that it? I don’t suppose I have any say in this decision?”

“I only thought that, if you were not going to be using them anymore, it would give them—and us—some much needed privacy.” Conrad sighed. Pulling away from Damian, he sat up. “I thought you’d be pleased, but it’s obviously too soon. I can see you’re not in favor of the idea. If it’s going to upset you I’ll just…think of something else.”

“No!” Damian clutched at Conrad’s arm to keep him close. “What are you saying? Of course it’s not too soon. I’m only too happy to move in here with you. It’s what I’ve been suggesting for weeks, isn’t it? I was simply taken by surprise, that’s all. When did you say Christian would be arriving?”

“Soon, I expect. Before the end of the year.”

“The end of the year? Conrad, that’s next week!”

“Yes, I guess it is. That’s not a problem, is it?”

“A problem?” To renovate, redecorate, rearrange his entire existence? “No. No problem at all! It’s just that I am a little preoccupied at the moment, as you might recall, with plans for the party.”

“Oh, is that all? My dear, I’m quite confident in your ability to handle both projects at once. I believe it’s what they call ‘multi-tasking’ isn’t it? I’m sure you can manage.”

“
Sí
, I’m sure I could, but why? I don’t understand the reason for this sudden haste.”

Conrad arched one brow. “How is it sudden? You’ve been pestering me for weeks to take this step—you just said so yourself.”

“
Sí
. Although I don’t believe I phrased it in quite that way. Still, can’t we put things off, just for a little while?”

“I’d rather not. And I don’t see why it should be necessary. How difficult can it be to move a few rooms of furniture several yards down a hallway? You have the entire staff at your disposal, along with whatever funds you wish to spend. You need not worry about installing the extra doors yet, if that’s a concern. But otherwise… I’m tired of wasting time, Damian. I would like it done now.”

“Oh, very well,” Damian replied crossly. “Since once again it seems I have no choice.” How very like Conrad to turn everything around so that even his granting of Damian’s request had now become an order, one he must grudgingly fulfill. “It shall all be done just as you desire. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get started on my multi-tasking.”

This time it was Damian who got out of bed. Conrad stopped him with a single word. “Damian.”

His insides fluttering nervously, Damian gazed at him inquiringly. “Well? What is it?”

“Nothing. Just…thank you.”

“
De nada
.” Damian inclined his head and turned away again. His heart urged him to crawl back into bed and burrow against Conrad’s side, but he ignored it. Much as he wanted to, they couldn’t spend the whole night in bed, reassuring each other of their feelings. Not tonight.

While it was true Conrad was getting better, he was not yet recovered. The small amount of blood he’d taken from Damian tonight would only take the edge off his hunger for a short while. Maybe Conrad had grown complacent where his health was concerned, but someone needed to concern themselves with his welfare, and it appeared that Damian would have to be that someone.

He just wished he could still the nagging little voice, deep, down inside, the one that insisted Conrad’s change of heart had less to do with Conrad’s impatience to have Damian in his bed than it did with his desire to make Georgia happy. It was not the first time Damian’s safety had placed a poor second to Georgia’s whims. It wasn’t even the first time Conrad had appeared to disregard Damian’s feelings altogether. Now that he thought about it, in fact, he should probably be used to it by now.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Chapter Seventeen

March, 1983

Damian had been driving aimlessly around town for hours, ever since Conrad had ordered him out of the house. He had no idea where to go. No idea what to do with himself. No idea how long he need stay gone. His memories of the last time Conrad had evicted him were stark and vivid in his mind. He was more reluctant to return home prematurely than he cared to admit, even to himself.

He was angry too. After everything he’d given up, everything he’d risked, everything he’d sacrificed for Conrad’s sake, he deserved better than this. He could not believe their relationship had reached the point where
every
argument, no matter how slight, no matter how pointless or absurd, should contain the threat of violence, should end with him being forcibly ejected from his home. How had they come to this?

Certainly dealing with his sire’s temper was nothing new. Conrad had been getting annoyed with Damian for myriad reasons over the centuries, some large, some small, some totally inconsequential. He’d gotten over most of them in time—as well he should have. But something warned Damian that tonight was different.

In their attempt to give the twins an upbringing that was as close to human as possible, he and Conrad had deliberately shielded the children, keeping them in blissful ignorance of much of the darker, more savage aspects of being a vampire, even the darker aspects of their own natures. They’d done too good of a job of it, perhaps. With Julie, their tactics had paid off handsomely. With Marc, not so much. As this week’s little experiment had proved, Marc was still ambivalent about his vampiric nature, to the point where he’d stop at almost nothing to change what he was.

Damian still hoped that, given enough time and leeway, Marc might at least learn to become a little more resigned to his fate. But if Conrad had lost control tonight and shown Marc, in no uncertain terms, how truly abhorrent vampires could be, how viciously they could sometimes behave, what effect would that have had on the boy’s already poor opinion of himself?

What effect would it have had on him?

If Damian had goaded Conrad into acting violently with either of the twins looking on, the cause of the initial upset would not have mattered. Conrad would never have forgiven him.

Damian pushed the thought away. It didn’t bear thinking about. It hadn’t happened, thank the heavens, and it
wouldn’t
happen, not if he had anything at all to say about the matter.

Ah, but that was the question now, wasn’t it?

Did he still have a say? Or would Conrad use tonight’s event as an excuse to shut Damian out of the twins’ lives now, as completely as he’d once shut him out of his own?

Damian still had reason to hope that would not be the case. The twins were so young yet, still children really, still as vulnerable as they’d ever been, in some ways. It would be foolish of Conrad to attempt to try raising them on his own—even at this point. And, no matter how angry he might currently be feeling, if there was one thing Conrad was not, it was a fool. Or so Damian fervently believed.

Once he’d had a chance to calm down, once he’d decided that Damian had been sufficiently chastised for whatever it was he’d done wrong, surely Conrad would see the wisdom in keeping him around, at least for another ten years. After that, Damian had to admit his prospects grew increasingly more dim. What would he do if Conrad cut him loose a second time? Where would he go? How could he live through that nightmare again?

A vision of his possible future, bleak and loveless, a virtual repeat of the hundred years he’d already spent without Conrad, rose before his mind’s eye. He steered the car to the side of the road and turned off the engine. He was breathing hard. His heart was pounding. He stared through the car window, only mildly surprised to realize where he was. Directly across from the apartment building where Paul lived.