by PG Forte
“Buenísimo, muchacha,” Damian crooned, sweeping across the room and hugging her tight. “It’s as I’ve always said. A good pair of spiked heels on the feet of the right woman is a great equalizer.”
“It was scary, though,” Julie murmured. Her face was buried against Damian’s chest, but Marc could still hear the quaver in her voice. It drove him nuts. “And I really don’t want to see him again.”
“Well, you don’t have to,” he told her. “I’ll go by myself, if it bothers you that much. I mean, hell, it’s not like I need you to ID him for me. How many scar-faced vampires can there be in the world?”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she replied, twisting away from Damian to scowl at him. “You don’t go anywhere yourself. Conrad’s already missing. I’m not gonna lose you too. Forget it.”
“Shh,” Damian soothed, pulling her back into his embrace. “No worries, baby girl. It will all work out.” Over her head he met Marc’s eyes and mouthed, You’ll go alone?
Marc nodded. Damn straight he’d go alone. He just hoped he remembered to get what information he could from the bastard before he broke his jaw and beat him to a pulp. “Well, I’m exhausted,” he lied as he reached for the doorknob. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you both tonight.” Then he closed the door behind him, turned away from the bedrooms and headed downstairs.
Morning was fast approaching, but right now there was something Marc needed even more than sleep. And, for once, he was not going to find it in the refrigerator. He sniffed the air hopefully, wondering if there was anyone still on duty—other than Brennan, because he was not going to go there, either. Feeding in the same place his sister had been might seem like a giant step away from twincest as far as the rest of the vampire nation was concerned, but for him it was still a step too close.
As he crossed the foyer, on his way toward the front door, he nearly barreled into Drew, who was exiting one of the salons and, apparently, heading in the same direction.
“Well met again,” Drew said in greeting. “Are you on your way out?”
“Hungry,” Marc replied shortly, not caring if Drew thought him rude. “Going out for a bite.” He was far too worked up by the events of the night for idle chitchat .
Drew’s eyebrows rose. “An excellent idea. Do you mind if I join you?”
Surprise stopped Marc in his tracks. If he’d had to guess, he’d have pegged Drew as a solitary hunter. So, why was he seeking company now? A social event had not been part of Marc’s agenda for the evening, but it took him only a moment to change his mind about that. After all, if the opportunity arose, why not take the chance to kill two or three birds at once, rather than one at a time?
“Don’t mind at all,” Marc answered, and if his voice was a trifle grim, Drew seemed not to notice. “I was thinking of taking a run in the park, maybe seeing what kind of game I could scare up while I’m there.”
Drew’s teeth flashed in a wolfish grin. “A man after my own heart. How refreshing. Very well, then. Avaunt!”
“Can I ask you something, Uncle Damian?” Julie asked after Marc had left and she and Damian were alone.
Damian eyed her curiously. It had been a long time since she’d called him that—other than to tease. “Of course, child. Anything. What is it you want to know?”
“It’s just…what you said before, to Armand, about…about what happened to your shoulder. Did you mean it? Or was that just something else you said to distract him?”
Damian smiled sadly. “Do you mean, did Conrad really do this to me? Yes, chica, I’m sorry to say he did. But it was a very long time ago and best forgotten.”
“But how did you get it? I mean, why hasn’t it healed? ’Cause that’s what we do, right? Isn’t that one of the things that makes us different—we don’t age, we don’t get hurt, we heal instantly. Even when we bite people, the wounds heal right away. There’s never a mark—unless we’re clumsy or rushed, or, or, well, you know. B-but both you and the guy in the club tonight have these…these scars. I don’t understand.”
Damian sighed. “No, I don’t suppose you do. It’s not something we like to talk about, you see. But…well, you know that we all produce two basic types of venom. There’s the kind we release when we’re feeding, of course. And there’s that which is produced when we’re fighting with someone, or feel ourselves attacked. While the second kind is more caustic and creates far less pleasurable sensations, our bodies naturally heal from such wounds in a very, very short time. However, there are some vampires, known as the Lamia Invitus, who are capable of producing a…a much more intense form of venom. It’s practically a different variety altogether, with very extreme properties and, in certain situations, when they’re dying, for instance, or murderously angry, or, or…oh, I don’t know…if they’re just feeling…particularly insane, I suppose, driven temporarily mad by jealousy or…something along those lines, it…it causes the scarring you’ve observed.”
“So you’re saying Conrad is…is one of them?” Julie asked, looking startled. “Since when?”
Damian shrugged. “Since always. That’s how he was made. That’s what he is.”
“Then…how did he get that way?”
“It’s complicated,” Damian replied cautiously. His stomach heaved as he considered how furious Conrad would be if he said too much. “I don’t really know all the details. No one does anymore. Conrad made sure of that. I know it has something to do with the way in which he was turned and, Julie, I must warn you, do not bring the subject up with him. Please, chica. He does not like to talk about it.”
“So you’re saying he…he bit you?”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, yes.”
“Did it hurt?”
Damian bit back a bitter laugh. Did it hurt? Like the fires of hell. “Oh, absolutely. Although I think it may have been my pride that felt it the most. Or…well, almost. I was very vain, you see.” He paused and smiled mockingly, spreading his arms wide, inviting her to smile in response. “Well, I mean, look at me, darling, how could I not be, after all?”
Julie nodded absently, but it was clear her thoughts were elsewhere. “I guess I never thought of you two in that way before. I mean, I didn’t realize that you and Conrad were…you know.”
“Were lovers?” Damian supplied, amused by this sudden show of reticence. “There’s no reason you should have, I suppose. We were once, but that was long ago. We haven’t been together in that way in quite some time, not for many years before you were born.”
“What went wrong? I mean, how did it happen? If he loved you…how could he…how could he do something like that? Why would he hurt you?”
“My, what a lot of questions!” Laughing uneasily, Damian got up from the bed and once again began to pace the floor. “Many things happened, chica. Too many to mention, spread out over the course of far too many years. Why, I can’t even remember most of it now. Living forever…it’s not always as easy as you think it’s going to be. And loving forever is even more complicated.” He shrugged. “Things happen, you know? I suppose it’s inevitable. People begin to feel neglected or wronged in some fashion, they get mad, they make mistakes. One day…I suppose I made a bigger mistake than usual. I did something Conrad considered unforgivable and, in return, he did this. At the time, oh, my poor ego, I was devastated. I couldn’t imagine a greater tragedy. I left that very day, vowing never to return. Not that it mattered to Conrad, I’m sure, since he was already swearing he wouldn’t have me back under any circumstances anyway.” He sighed. “For a very long time it seemed that neither of us would ever budge from those positions. Then, one day…well, you and your brother came along. And everything changed.”
“How?” Julie asked, her voice barely a whisper. “What did we do?”
Damian shrugged. “You were born. That’s really all it took. Conrad may be many things, my darling girl, but stupidly delusional isn’t usually one of them. When your mother died and left him with the responsibility of caring for the two of you, he kne
w he couldn’t manage on his own. He needed someone to help him. I don’t know why, but he chose me. I like to think it’s because I was the most maternal person he could think of. Whatever the case, that’s why I came back, to help raise you two.”
“I’m glad you did.” Julie rose from the bed and threw herself into his arms. “I love you, Uncle Damian. I can’t imagine growing up without you.”
“I love you too, niña,” he whispered as he held her tenderly. “I love you very, very much.”
After sending Julie off to bed, Damian removed his shirt and stared at himself in the mirror, turning slightly so he could glance over his shoulder at his back, where most of the damage had been done. The black lines that had once formed the outer edges of the Quintano crest were still partially visible, if you knew what to look for. The rest of the tattoo had been obliterated.
A hot rush of shame rose in his gorge. He reached his hand around and fingered the scars, remembering the shock and the pain of his wounding, the agony of betrayal. Even after all this time, the marks and the memories were still just as vivid. He could still recall the hurt, the anger, the fear. The sheer disbelief. Perhaps that, most of all.
Fool that he was, he had never once considered Conrad capable of such enormous cruelty—not toward me. Never toward me! Afterwards…it hadn’t seemed possible they could get past what had happened, not with a permanent reminder of that one event poisoning everything. And so he’d left. At the time, it had seemed like the only sensible thing to do, the only choice open to him, the wisest, safest course to take.
For the next hundred years, he’d taken great care to steer clear of Conrad, to make certain their paths never crossed again. But he’d never forgotten and he’d never really gotten over it, either. Not even now. Not even after all these years.
“Why do I feel like I know you from somewhere?” Armand muttered, standing in the shadows beneath the stairs, watching as Julie tiptoed across the entranceway floor, on her way to the front door. “Why does this all seem so…familiar?”
She pulled the door open and slipped from the house. Armand shook his head. “Not my problem,” he reminded himself, feeling devoutly grateful for such small favors. He’d only had to look once at the girl to know she was trouble. But that was nothing to him. Let the others worry about her, if they wanted to. Of course, there really wasn’t anyone around to worry, at this point, was there? The brother had already gone out himself, and as for Damian… “Tough shit. If he can’t control the girl, that’s his lookout.”
On the other hand, Armand could not deny that he was curious. What was she up to? Why was she sneaking out of the house this close to morning? What, if anything, did it have to do with Conrad’s absence? He hesitated just a moment longer, then followed her out the door and down toward the gate.
“I figured you’d be back.” Brennan’s voice carried clearly through the still air. Armand slowed his approach.
“Did you?” Purring in response, Julie slid into Brennan’s arms. “And why is that?”
“I dunno. Must have been that look in your eyes when you came home tonight. I could tell you wanted…something.”
“Really?” Julie braced her hands on his shoulders, jumped up and locked her legs around his waist. “So, okay, since you know so much, tell me, what is it I want?”
“Don’t know,” he repeated. Cupping his hands under her bottom, he fell back a step, until he was leaning against the gatehouse wall. “I figured you’d tell me. Whatever it is, I’m the guy to give it to you.”
Julie laughed delightedly. “Well now, you’re very accommodating, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Brennan replied, grinning back at her. “I am that.” He stiffened slightly when she tugged at his collar and Armand could see his throat work as he swallowed.
Julie pressed her nose close to Brennan’s neck, breathing along the veins, picking her spot. Armand knew just when she’d found it. A tiny shiver ran through her and he could almost feel her anticipation.
“So, um, what’s this thing your brother was talking about earlier?” Brennan asked, already starting to sound drowsy, even though Julie was still carefully washing the spot she’d chosen with her tongue, preparing the skin with such patient, practiced efficiency it took Armand’s breath away. No doubt about it, the girl did beautiful work.
“What about Marc?” Julie murmured.
“He said someone was trying to kill you?”
Armand started in alarm. Well, this was news.
Julie glanced up at Brennan’s face. She looked surprised, as well. “Why? Were you worried about me?”
Brennan shrugged. “Well, hell, yeah. ’Course I was worried. Why wouldn’t I be? So, like, is everything okay now?”
A sudden smile illuminated Julie’s face. Armand caught his breath, dazzled by the transformation. In a split second she’d gone from being a very pretty girl into a radiant goddess.
“Yeah,” she murmured, directing all that shimmering beauty toward the gatekeeper. “Everything’s fine, now. Thanks for asking.”
Me, Armand thought, still stunned. I want that. Look at me that way.
“So what happened anyway?” Brennan asked.
Julie shrugged. “It was nothing really, just…oh, you know, there was some guy at a club who tried to get a little too friendly. Know what I mean? Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Brennan chuckled. “What was I thinking? You’re one tough vampire chick, aren’t ya?”
Julie nodded, her smile morphing into that of a tease. “Uh-huh. And don’t you forget it.” Then she went back to her spot and sank her fangs into his neck with so fluid a motion Brennan didn’t even flinch.
“Well, I’m just glad you’re okay,” he muttered, his voice thick, staggering a little as the venom hit his system. “Oh, yeah, baby, that’s good.”
Steadying himself against the wall, Brennan pressed Julie’s hips closer and began to grind himself against the girl. Armand bit back a growl. Just how far were the two of them planning to take this performance? The night was just about gone and this was hardly a secluded location they’d picked for their little tryst.
Perhaps he should say something—like “get a room” or “move it along”. But, before he could make a move, Julie was already pulling away, once again taking the time to carefully run her tongue over the area where her mouth had been pressed, wiping away any lingering traces.
Armand watched approvingly. Her attention to detail was exquisite. He was sure that by the time she’d finished there’d be nothing to show she’d even been there. Any marks she left behind would likely be too small for human eyes to even notice. Nice.
“Whoa, where are you going?” Brennan asked as she gave his lips a quick kiss and jumped back to the ground. “That’s it? No. Come back here, we’re just getting started.”
Armand felt a fleeting sense of solidarity with the man. That’s what he would be feeling too, if he were in his position. Come to think of it, that was what he was feeling, even now. What the hell was going on here? She couldn’t be done already. There was no way she could possibly be satisfied after taking so little.
Julie patted Brennan’s arm. “I know, sweetie. But my brother mentioned you might be getting worn out and I think maybe he’s right. Your body needs a little time to regenerate. You should go and get some rest.”
“Your brother ought to mind his own business,” Brennan grumbled, but, now that he was listening for it, Armand could recognize the faintly winded tones, the rapid, shallow breathing. Shit. Why hadn’t he seen that before? They were right. The kid was borderline anemic. No doubt, when Conrad got back, everyone would be given the order to lay off him for a while. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d had to do something like that in recent years.
Armand sighed. Sometimes he really missed the old days. Those weekly parties may have been a chore to put on and a headache to deal with, but at least the food was always warm and fresh…
“Come home with
me,” Brennan suggested, still trying to pull Julie back against him. “I’m just around the corner, right over the garage. Forget this regenerating bullshit. I’ll show you who’s worn out.”
“No way,” Julie replied, going up on her toes to kiss him. “I’m not going anywhere with you right now and the only place you’re going is home to sleep. Maybe you should eat a steak, or something, okay? If you feel better later, I’ll come by and play with you again tonight.”
“Tonight, huh?” Brennan’s eyes lit up at the thought. “I guess I could wait that long.”
“As soon as you’re back on duty then,” Julie promised as she turned to go. “But only if you get enough rest in the meantime.”
Brennan sighed. “Man, you are such a tease. I’m gonna be sporting one all day now because of you.”
“You’re a sweet-talker, aren’t you?” she said with a laugh. “Well, listen, pal, you’d better be sporting it in your sleep. ’Cause otherwise, you won’t be getting any tonight either, and don’t think I won’t be able to tell.” She blew him a kiss and started back toward the house, then stopped and pivoted to say, “Hey. Thanks again for worrying about me.”
Armand watched her go, feeling more confused and conflicted than ever. He’d taken the twins for newbies—total neophytes. He didn’t know what to think anymore. If they were new, then they were the strangest newly turned vampires he’d ever encountered.
“Well played,” Drew murmured as he and Marc finally headed back to the mansion. His voice was warm with approval, lazy and thick with satisfaction. Using his thumb, he wiped a final trace of blood from the corner of his mouth then licked the digit clean. “Very well played.”
Marc shrugged. “Yeah, it was fun.” Rousting up a couple of kids doing ’shrooms, chasing them through the misty woods and giving them a hallucination worth tripping about had done a lot to take the edge off his frustrated anger, but, all the same. “I’ll tell you one thing, though. It’s gonna piss Conrad off but good, if he ever gets to hearing about it.” As he spoke, he glanced around curiously, but there wasn’t anything obvious to account for Conrad’s supposed dislike of the place. In fact, while Marc could scent an abundance of life here, both human and otherwise, he was pretty sure he and Drew were, by far, the two most sinister things out and about in the park tonight.