Chapter Fifteen.

From his place at Conrad's side, on the dais at the front of the room, Damian surveyed the a.s.sembly. Though his gaze tracked Georgia's progress through the crowd, he tried to disguise his interest, tried not to let his annoyance show. Of course she would choose to wear a gown that left so much of her back exposed, that would showcase her tattoo. He should have antic.i.p.ated she would do such a thing. Once, such a thing wouldn't have bothered him, once, when he himself wore the same mark...

"Something wrong, caro?" Conrad inquired. "You seem unhappy. Why is that? Your party appears to be quite a success. I should think you'd be more pleased."

Damian shrugged. "S. I am pleased. It's just...well, there are several things that are not as I'd hoped. For one, the New Year is only minutes away and Marc is not yet here. I had hoped he would at least stop by for a few minutes."

"Let the boy have his s.p.a.ce, my dear. As I've said, it's probably for the best that he stay away. It's not the first New Year you've celebrated without him and it's such a small thing, one moment in time. What does it matter, when set against all the rest? Besides, look over there; at least uno de sus bebes is here tonight. Julie is looking quite lovely, don't you think? I don't believe I've ever seen her in that color before."

"I'm sure you have, you know," Damian pointed out. "You just don't recall it."

"Very possible, I suppose. In any event, I commend you on choosing to stipulate evening wear for this event. I'm enjoying this so much more than the last party you threw. I don't miss all the outlandish costumes or the inevitable hurt feelings when one fails to correctly interpret what someone else is wearing. Plus, this look flatters everyone."

Everyone? Damian could not help but notice the warmth in Conrad's eyes as his gaze lingered on Georgia once again. And that d.a.m.ned tattoo. "Oh, indeed. Everyone's looking marvelous. In fact I was just thinking that very thing. Christian, in particular, looks wonderfully well. Did you not think so? Muy atractivo. But, then again, he always was."

Conrad's mouth tightened infinitesimally. "Damian," he growled in warning tones. "Don't start."

"What? You disagree?" Damian feigned surprise. "But how is this possible? You once were quite enamored of him, were you not?"

"Did you think so? I, myself, would hardly have phrased it that way."

"Ah, well, perhaps this time it is my memory that's in error. How would you phrase it?"

Conrad turned to look at him and the smoldering heat in his gaze struck Damian like a fist. "As I recall, caro, it was you with whom I was enamored-both then and now. That is how I would phrase it, if you really wish to know, and that is what I would have you remember, instead of all this other nonsense."

The sincerity in Conrad's tone caused Damian's heart to race and he found he could no longer comfortably meet that heated gaze. He turned his head away as a hot blush rose in his cheeks.

Conrad took hold of his chin, forcing Damian to face him once more. "Considering it's my own feelings we're discussing, my love, I wonder if we might not agree-just this once-to allow my recollections to stand?"

Damian nodded. "Of-of course," he stammered in breathless tones. "As-as you wish, querido."

Conrad smiled. "Thank you," he replied as he drew Damian to him. Their lips met in a long, slow, leisurely kiss, one that Conrad seemed in no great hurry to end. Gradually, Damian's racing heart slowed. His hand crept up to cup Conrad's face. Conrad's arms tightened around him, pressing Damian even closer. Somewhere in the distance, Damian heard the countdown to the New Year begin, but it was just as Conrad had said, a small matter, a single moment, hardly worth noting. Compared to the love he could feel contained within this kiss, or in the lifetime they would share-had shared, were sharing-it was nothing at all.

Cheers erupted all around her, but Julie could not pull her gaze from the couple kissing on the dais. She couldn't recall ever having seen them so happy, but her own happiness on their account was tinged with a small amount of envy. Would she ever find something like that for herself?

"Bonne annee!" Armand whispered in her ear. Leaning over her shoulder he kissed her softly on the cheek.

Julie turned to look at him in surprise. "I thought you weren't speaking to me?"

Armand shrugged. "Come, cherie, you should know I could never stay angry at you for very long. We're friends, after all, n'est pas?"

"Thank you." She had no idea if he was being serious or facetious, but she chose to take him at his word, because that was what she needed to believe.

"There's no need to thank me. I shouldn't have said what I did the other night. You were upset and I handled it badly. And for that, I'm sorry."

Julie shrugged. "You were mad. I can't really blame you for that. I was kind of sending mixed signals, I guess." Of course, she was also receiving mixed signals; she was almost certain that was the case. She'd been feeling her own emotions and maybe his as well. The whole thing had been so freaking weird, she wasn't sure she was over it, even now. Bad idea. Such a bad idea. It wasn't every day she heard voices in her head.

"Kind of?" Armand repeated in chiding tones. He was smiling, but it was a sad smile with a bitter edge. "You guess?"

Julie sighed. "Fine. I was sending mixed signals. Happy now?"

Armand's smile gentled. "I am, yes. But, you're still looking so sad it's breaking my heart. Tell me, what is it now? What are thinking about?"

"Just now, you mean? Nothing really. I was just thinking about what it is I really want, wondering if I'll ever have it." It wasn't so much to ask for, was it? Someone to love. Someone whose heart was free. Someone who could love her back.

"And what is it you really want?"

"I want that." She motioned at the dais and was surprised when Armand's smile thinned out.

"Ah. Of course." His tone, like his expression, turned unexpectedly glum. "You want Conrad. Why am I not surprised?"

"What?" Julie frowned. "Seriously? You too? Why does everyone think that? No! I don't want Conrad-not like that. I want what he has, what they have together. Look at them. That's what I want. I want a relationship like they have now. Why is that so hard to comprehend?"

"Maybe it's because my outlook is colored by my own experience with such things," Armand suggested. "Or perhaps it's because what you see there now wasn't always there. They weren't always like that, you know."

"Tell me something else I don't know. Please, that's exactly my point! It's the only hope I have." If hope was even the right word to use. Because maybe the kind of love she was looking for was so rare it only came along once in a really long while. Like centuries. Or maybe it took centuries for something like that to develop between two people. Luckily for her, she could afford the time. But could she stand the wait? And how was she to fill all those endless nights until real love came along?

"Excuse me. I'm not interrupting am I?" An unfamiliar voice broke into Julie's thoughts. She turned to face the newcomer and felt her breath catch in surprise. Whoever he was, he was striking, a tall, blond Viking, big and brawny enough to take her mind off Brennan for at least a little while. Even Armand seemed almost plain in comparison.

"Uh...no. Not at all." She gave him her brightest smile and held out her hand. "I'm Julie, by the way."

"Brilliant." The stranger smiled back just as brightly. Her hand felt swallowed up as he wrapped both of his around it. "And I'm Christian. I just landed in town tonight. Mother suggested I come over and introduce myself."

"Mother?" Julie repeated, feeling a little confused.

"I'm one of Georgia's boys," Christian explained with a shrug. A twinkle appeared in his eyes and he leaned in close. "She made us. Only don't let on I called her me mum. She hates when we do that. Says it makes her feel old, don't you know."

Julie giggled in appreciation, remembering times when Conrad had voiced similar complaints about being called Grandfather. "Well, she won't hear it from me."

"Thanks, luv." Christian winked at her then turned his beaming smile on Armand. "And who might you be?"

"Armand." Was there a hint of hostility in his tone? Julie shot a suspicious glance his way, noting the faint clenching of his jaw.

"You must excuse me if I'm being too forward. It's just so exciting to be here at last, and to be meeting so many new cousins."

"Is this your first time here?" Armand inquired.

"Oh! Yes. First time this side of the pond, in fact."

Julie felt her interest rise. "Really?" She studied the newcomer even more intently. A vampire who'd never been to San Francis...o...b..fore? One who'd never met her mother or had the chance to fall under her spell? Someone the woman hadn't slept with? Already this new year was looking brighter than the last. "I certainly hope you're planning on staying for a while?" Even though she wasn't facing him, Julie could feel the force of Armand's gaze as he turned his glare her way. It left her feeling slightly singed. On the other hand, at least he seemed to realize she was alive. That had to be an improvement.

"I hope so too," Christian replied, seeming blissfully oblivious to Armand's seething silence. "I'd like to stay a good few months at least."

"Oh, good. That'll give us all a chance to get to know one another. And Armand knows all the best places. We can show you around the city. Can't we?"

She aimed the last part of her speech, and her most hopeful smile, at Armand. He held her gaze for a long moment before smiling grimly back at her. "But of course," he said at last. "Whatever you wish."

Chapter Sixteen.

January 1, 2000 "You're leaving us?" Julie's face betrayed her alarm. "For how long?" She looked so upset, it was all Damian could do to keep from going to her, from taking her in his arms and offering comfort. The only thing that stopped him was his own abject fear. What hope did he and Conrad have of presenting a united front to anyone, if they couldn't do so here? And what hope did he have of earning Conrad's trust if he couldn't even back him up in this initial conversation?

"It won't be for very long, child," Conrad replied in what he probably thought was a soothing tone. "No more than a few years, I shouldn't think."

"A few years?" Julie gazed appealingly at Damian, but what could he say? Certainly he sympathized with the girl, but a few years seemed fairly insignificant to him as well, especially when weighed against the century he'd already spent without Conrad. For the twins sake, he'd almost be willing to go through that again-but not if he had to be alone and definitely not if he couldn't count on there being any end in sight.

"Easy, chica. We're not exactly deserting you, you know. You'll still have each other and there are telephones. There's even email now. We'll keep in touch." He turned to Conrad. "We will, won't we?"

Conrad shrugged impatiently. "Of course."

"Why now?" Marc demanded, his gaze trained on Conrad. "What's happened? What aren't you telling us?"

"Why should anything have happened?" Conrad asked. "I simply felt that it was time. That's all. I thought you'd be pleased. Aren't you at all eager to be on your own?"

Marc nodded. "Well, sure. I just thought it seemed awfully sudden, that's all."

It did seem sudden, now that he thought about it. Damian knew a moment's panic as he considered the possibility that Marc was right, that Conrad was hiding something-not just from the twins, but from Damian as well.

"Your grandfather is right, Marc. It will do you both good to spend a little time on your own, stretching your wings, making decisions for yourself. And then, before you know it, we'll all be happily reunited in California." He felt hopeful even as he said it. Why couldn't it work out just that way? All he needed to do was to make himself so indispensible that it wouldn't even occur to Conrad to cast him out of his life again.

But...he wouldn't actually be in Conrad's life either, would he? It was all just make-believe. Could he stand to live out a lie, day after day, and pretend it didn't matter? Would it kill him to sit idly by and watch as Conrad amused himself with others? Hopefully, having his own rooms would make things a little more tolerable and, if not? Well, then, he supposed he'd just have to do what he'd always done before, find his own alternate forms of amus.e.m.e.nt.

Then he thought of Paul and his hopes dissolved into ashes. No. On second thought, maybe he would not be seeking alternate forms of amus.e.m.e.nt after all. Maybe he'd just soldier on and wait for the day when life became once again bearable.

How long could it be?

Conrad cast a sidelong glance at Damian. He'd fallen too silent and, just as Conrad had suspected, that lonely stricken look was back on his face again. Conrad would have liked to believe it was merely the thought of leaving the twins behind that was responsible for making Damian so sad. Unfortunately, he doubted it was anything so simple or so easily remedied.

The look on Julie's face was nearly as bad. It was almost enough to cause Conrad to change his mind. Almost. He couldn't though. He had to stay strong and consider the larger picture. He'd failed Damian too many times in the past. He couldn't afford to do so again.

Later, perhaps, he'd pull Marc aside and explain. It would be good to have an ally in this, someone he could trust. He suspected what he had to say would not come as a total surprise. There had been something in Marc's eyes that suggested he understood. That he might even share some of Conrad's concerns about Damian.

The boy was a natural leader. Sadly, these next few years might be the only chance he would ever get to make his own decisions or to rule over his own small household. If there was any bright spot to be found in this plan, Conrad thought, this would have to be it.

Chapter Seventeen.

January 1, 2010 The early morning fog clung tenaciously to the eastern hills as though attempting to hold back the dawn. Its efforts were clearly misplaced, however, and doomed besides, for nothing would stop the sun from rising. Conrad let the drapes fall shut. He turned from the window and crossed the room with a weary sigh. This past night might mark the start of the most promising New Year he'd known in well over a century, but the night was over and he was tired. He wanted sleep. He wanted Damian. Both were eluding him.

Despite the lateness of the hour, Damian was still taking his time getting ready for bed. He'd been brushing his hair for what felt like hours.

Conrad settled himself amid the pillows piled atop his bed and watched impatiently as Damian continued his evening routine. "A penny for your thoughts, my dear," he said at last, when he could no longer stand the silence that had fallen between them.

Damian's hand stilled. He turned startled eyes in Conrad's direction. "What was that?"

Conrad smiled wryly. "A pleasantry, nothing more. You seemed lost in thought. I was curious as to what you were thinking about."

Damian lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. "Oh, I don't know. Nothing really."

Conrad's eyebrows rose. "Come now, you must have been thinking something."

"I meant nothing in particular. It's the New Year, I suppose. It does tend to put one in a reflective mood, does it not?"

"It's possible. So, then, what exactly were you reflecting on?"

"Oh...nothing, everything. The past. The future. Distant memories..."

"Paul, perhaps?"

A slight flush rose in Damian's cheeks as he asked, "Why would you ask that?"

"It's New Year's Day," Conrad replied with a shrug. "The two do seem to go together, do they not?"

"I suppose you could say so."

"Are you sorry you never had the chance to turn him?"

"What a very odd question," Damian said as he turned back to the mirror and resumed brushing his hair-so vigorously, Conrad thought it a wonder any of it stayed attached to his skull.

"Damian?" Conrad prompted after a moment.

"I don't understand why you would ask something like that," Damian replied in querulous tones.

"It seemed a reasonable enough question."

"Oh, did it? Why? Because then he would not have died? He's not the first person to have done so. I a.s.sure you, the practice has been going on for ages. They say the dead are at peace, do they not? If that is so, then what is there to be sorry about?"

"Damian..."

"Men die, Conrad! Surely you're not suggesting we turn them all? What would be left to eat, if we did?"

"Damian! Come here."

His mouth tight, Damian flung down the brush. "S, mi senor. Inmediatamente!" He was breathing hard as he walked across the room to sit on the bed. "Estoy aqu. Que quieres?"