Conrad reached for his hand. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to upset you."

"I'm not-" Damian stopped and bit his lip, unable or perhaps unwilling to give voice to such an obvious lie.

"You're not still cross because I asked you to move in here with me, are you?"

"Of course not." Damian shook his head. "There's nowhere else I could ever wish to be. If you recall, it was I who suggested it in the first place."

"I know that." For a moment, as Conrad urged Damian to lie beside him, he contemplated letting the subject drop. It was a tempting idea. Surely a smarter man would do so.

A smarter man would rightly a.s.sume that, whatever was on Damian's mind, he would tell Conrad about it when he was ready to do so. Or, better yet, he would simply work it out on his own. It was only a week ago, however, that Damian had complained they didn't talk enough. Just because Conrad didn't agree with that a.s.sessment didn't mean he couldn't at least try to demonstrate a willingness to please his partner. Why shouldn't he take the initiative? Why shouldn't he ask the hard questions? "However, it's been over a month since you made that suggestion, and I can't help but feel that something's changed since then."

Damian shrugged. "It's true I've had a lot on my mind lately, what with planning for the party and all this unpleasantness with Marc. Perhaps reorganizing the household at the same time was not what I would have chosen, but that doesn't mean I don't want to be here." His tone was casual but the look in his eyes suggested there was something more, something he wasn't saying.

"Then what is it? There's something troubling you tonight. Don't try and deny it. I know you too well."

"As I said, perhaps it's just the new year stirring up memories and...and things of that nature."

"Things like...regrets, perhaps?"

Damian's gaze faltered. "Perhaps. Something like that."

Conrad lifted his hand to lightly frame Damian's face. "What is it you regret, caro? Is there naught I can do to ease your mind about it?"

"It's not regret, exactly."

"Well then?"

"There are some things I regret, you know. When I thought I'd lost you, when I thought I'd doomed myself to an eternity of unrequited love-I regretted everything I'd done to cause it."

Conrad pulled him close and hugged him fiercely. "I've told you that will never happen. Banish the thought from your mind. I will love you forever."

Damian nestled against him. "Gracias, querido, but just because you've said something once is no reason not to repeat it. And that thought in particular is one you may repeat as often as it pleases you. I promise, I won't take offense."

"Very well, then. I shall love you forever. Satisfied?"

"S." Damian smiled. "For the moment." Then he sighed. His face was troubled as he gazed at Conrad. "But, how can you really promise such a thing? How can anyone? What if I do something else to displease you? It's certainly not impossible, you know. I fully realize I am not completely without fault. And how likely is it that fate would grant us a second reprieve? If we were to part ways again, what are the odds of another miracle occurring to bring us back together?"

Conrad shook his head. "Fate has nothing to do with it. And you must think me a very great fool to even ask such a question. You speak of regrets, my love, as though you were the only one who'd ever had experience with such things. If there are truly only some things you regret, you should consider yourself very fortunate. The list of things I regret, on the other hand? Well, that list appears nearly endless, as the nightmares that plague me can attest. Do I promise that neither of us will ever make another mistake, or that we will never again find ourselves disappointed with one another in the future? No, that would indeed be a foolish thing to suggest. But, Damian, be a.s.sured that nothing could ever induce me to part from you a second time. I had no idea how great a mistake I was making when I sent you away. Now I do. And while I might very possibly lose my temper with you in the future, believe me when I say that I would have to lose my entire mind and all of my senses before I ever make that mistake again."

"Querido." Damian threw his arms around Conrad's neck and kissed him pa.s.sionately, raining kisses down his cheeks, his neck, his face, his lips.

Conrad hugged him fiercely. "I do not say this to boast, my love. It's a testament to my own weakness and not something I take pride in. E'en were I convinced it was for your own good, I don't know that I could bear to lose you again. It would be too hard and I am far too selfish."

"I don't care what the reason is," Damian murmured. Burying his face against Conrad's neck, he let down his fangs and lightly scored Conrad's skin. "And, if it truly is selfishness, then I pray you will be as selfish as possible. I swear I will never have cause to complain of it again."

Conrad rolled them over until Damian was beneath him. He speared his hands into Damian's hair for the sheer pleasure the contact brought him. Damian smiled up at him, sweetly, eagerly, a wicked grin that left his lips parted for Conrad's kiss and the sharp tips of his teeth clearly visible. "So now even my flaws have found acceptance with you?" Conrad joked. "It's no wonder I find it so easy to love you."

Despite his own eagerness, Conrad took Damian's mouth in a kiss that was much like the one they'd shared at midnight, long and slow. For where was the need for desperation now? Where was the need to hurry? The nearly endless future stretched out before them looking as bright as it ever had and as secure as anything in this world could ever be.

They had forever to explore, to demonstrate their feelings for one another, to mate and claim and love one another. When, at long last, Conrad ended the kiss, Damian tipped his head back, granting Conrad his neck. This display of willingness and trust still shook Conrad's soul and stole his breath away.

He did not need to feed tonight, still he could not resist running his open mouth over Damian's throat, loving the taste of his skin, that luscious throbbing of his pulse, the heady call of blood to blood. Mine. As his lips encountered the uneven ridges of flesh that made up the scars on Damian's shoulder and neck, Conrad's heart ached, his breath faltered. It was a miracle he hadn't killed Damian. That Damian had not hardened his heart against Conrad, that he did not fear him or hate him, that he still came to him willingly night after night, was an even bigger miracle. It humbled Conrad. It exalted him. It left him wanting to weep with grat.i.tude.

It was a gift made all the more sweet by one very basic fact of Vampire life. Whether Damian had wanted it or not, Conrad could have had him all the same. Willingly or unwillingly, he could have compelled Damian's affections and forced him to cede control to his body as well as his mind. It would have taken but a moment's work to make that happen, but the sweetness of this moment would have been lost and tonight would have meant nothing to Conrad had he done so.

He'd lived on that side of the power equation for far too long. He knew the h.e.l.l of being forced to give one's self unwillingly to another. He knew what it was like when your wishes mattered not at all, when you belonged-body and soul-to someone else. It was a horror he could never allow himself to forget. And he would rather die than inflict it on another.

Thankfully, he knew that he would never again be forced into such a situation. Inasmuch as it was possible for a vampire to be free, he was. He was his own master. His mind was under no one else's sway. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for his children.

At present, they lived under his aegis and must do as he commanded. Some of them might chafe under his leadership from time to time, but Conrad knew he would be doing them no favors by pretending they were free to do as they pleased. Someday, a few of them might do so, but it was by no means guaranteed. What was more likely was that they all might someday find themselves living under someone else's rule, possibly even someone who wouldn't scruple to use or abuse his or her power in ways Conrad never would.

Even though he'd long since sacrificed any right to self-respect, Conrad still took pride in that fact. He'd used his ability to compel his brood rarely, sparingly, only when absolutely necessary, and never for his own, selfish pleasure.

"Conrad, mi amor..."

The urgent, breathless tone of Damian's voice made Conrad smile. He raised his head to meet Damian's eyes. "S, caro mio? How may I please you? What is it you desire?"

"Love me," Damian begged. His face was flushed. His eyes were heavy and dark with heat. He looked gloriously debauched already.

Conrad could not help teasing. "But I already do, beloved. Is there nothing else?"

Groaning impatiently, Damian slipped his hand between them. "With this," he growled as his hand closed over Conrad's c.o.c.k.

Conrad gasped in surprise then closed his eyes in bliss as Damian continued to taunt him, stroking slow and firm, rubbing his thumb across the slick crown, taking control. Normally, such a bold move would have the beast stirring, ready to do battle. It was oddly quiescent tonight. Perhaps it was the lateness of the hour. Or maybe the beast was finally satisfied, content to be pleasured, content to believe Damian was truly his. Tonight, even the man was satisfied in that regard, Conrad realized with a sense of shock. It had been so long since he'd felt that with any real surety. Another wave of grat.i.tude washed through him. He dropped his head to Damian's shoulder, moaning softly. "Damian..."

Damian turned his head and pressed a kiss to Conrad's temple. "Or perhaps you wish me to make love to you?"

"Whatever, my love." Conrad lowered his head further, teeth nipping at the smooth wall of Damian's chest. Lower still, toying now with the small, gold ring with which he was pierced. "Whatever you wish. I am in your hands."

Damian stiffened as Conrad laved the hard nub of flesh. "Do you mean it?"

In response, Conrad rocked his hips, thrusting his c.o.c.k again through the circle of Damian's fingers. "Evidently, I do," he teased and once again flicked the gold hoop with his tongue. He remembered with crystal clarity the night he first saw them, the rage and the terror they'd inspired within him.

Damian had found them with Paul's belongings after his friend's death, or so he'd said. He'd immediately taken them for his own, bringing them to some random human, someone whose name he'd picked out of a phonebook, to have them transferred to his own flesh.

Conrad was well aware it was partially his own bitterness, his own black despair that had fueled his fury. Here was some other man's mark adorning Damian's flesh. Here was yet more proof that Damian was no longer his. But there was legitimate fear there too.

"Who was this human? What if he'd noticed something amiss?" he'd demanded. Vampire flesh did not react to such wounds in anything like the same way human flesh did. Damian was hardly a fledgling. At his age, he should know better. He should be past the point of foolish mistakes. "Didn't you even consider the danger, the stupidity of your actions? Had he realized what he was dealing with, he might have killed you in a panic, slaughtered you right then and there, in...in...in where, precisely? Some anonymous town! Even now I don't know its name. I might never even have known what had happened to you."

"S. In much the same way that I would have never known what had happened to Paul if we had not kept in touch," Damian pointed out.

"Are we discussing that subject again right now? No! We are not. We are discussing your foolishness in once again risking yourself needlessly."

Damian shrugged. His sublime indifference to Conrad's opinion clear. "Very well, if you insist. Tell me then, what risk was there? I was there but a moment-a handful of minutes at most. He noticed nothing odd."

"Nothing that you know about, you mean!"

"Nothing that I care about," Damian retorted. "If the past few years and our experiences with the twins should have taught you anything, Conrad, it's that in this modern age, people have to practically be forced to believe in the evidence of their own senses. If, perchance, he had noticed, or if he'd commented on-for example-the lack of blood, I could have simply told him I was Vampire and that would have ended the matter. He would immediately have discounted that as a possibility and written me off as being either mad or a wit."

"You are mad," Conrad replied, aghast and all but speechless. "He'd have been well within his rights to think so." What next? Would Damian attempt to immolate himself in the village square? Would he hurl himself from atop a tower? Stake himself through the heart?

Damian's eyes flashed. "Either mad or sane, it makes no difference. Whatever would have come up, I would have dealt with it. Am I a child, Conrad? Or a dog that has never been allowed off-leash before? For one hundred and thirteen years I survived on my own, after you threw me out and before you saw fit to reclaim me."

"Don't remind me," Conrad growled. One hundred and thirteen years, and he'd regretted every second. "And, for the record, I have not reclaimed you." If he had, Damian would know about it. If he had, Conrad would make d.a.m.n sure that nothing like this ever happened again. Ah, if only he could reclaim him! But that was a hope that waned thinner with each pa.s.sing year.

"Exactly." Damian flushed and looked away. "So tell me, where was your concern for me then?" His voice was sullen and cold as he continued. "How worried could you have been when you made no effort to contact me for decades at a time?"

"Conrad!" Damian's voice startled Conrad from his memories.

He glanced up at him, questioningly. "Well? What is it?"

"Don't tell me you're falling asleep?"

In answer, Conrad shifted partially onto his side, so he could glance down the length of Damian's body. Damian's hand was now wrapped around both their c.o.c.ks, stroking them together. "Do I look asleep to you?" Both their shafts were equally hard, slick and shining, straining together in a way that put Conrad in mind of two horses racing neck-and-neck. He grew even harder at the sight of them and rocked his hips again. His c.o.c.k nudged against Damian's, startling a throaty groan from his lover's lips. Conrad's b.a.l.l.s drew up tight. His c.o.c.k pulsed in Damian's hand.

"I need more." Damian's voice sounded plaintive. "I need you inside me. Now, querido. I need to feel you touching me. Touch me everywhere. Please..."

"Your wish is my command," Conrad answered, still unable to tear his gaze away from the gorgeous sight that met his eyes. Damian lay stretched out beneath him, motionless aside from his busy hand. His eyes half-closed, his lips parted, their soft fullness accentuated by the dark shadow of his morning beard. He looked so beautiful-especially from this angle, with all the damage Conrad had done to him concealed. A red flush colored his heaving chest; the skin there, and on his upper arms, was smooth and sleek, missing the dark hair that trailed over his belly, now wet with the evidence of their pa.s.sion. At the juncture of his heavy thighs, a thicker patch of curls sheltered his sac. His legs had fallen open, strong muscles bunching and flexing; and here, too, he was lightly furred. The juxtaposition of smooth and furry was glorious. Conrad's palms itched with the need to do just as Damian had asked, to touch him everywhere, to reacquaint himself with every perfect inch.

Made for me. The soft voice in Conrad's head was insistent, and he was struck anew by the truth of the statement that repeated over and over in his thoughts. He was made for me.

Conrad lifted his hand to Damian's face, tracing the shape of Damian's lips with his finger, then slipping the digit into Damian's hot mouth. "Ah, Damian," he murmured "Amore. Ti amo cos tanto." I love you so much.

A shudder ran through Damian's frame. The look that blazed suddenly in his eyes tore at Conrad's heart. After pulling his finger free, Conrad leaned down and sealed Damian's mouth in a kiss. Damian's arm hooked around Conrad's neck, pulling him closer. When he wrapped his thighs around Conrad's back, pulling him even more fully to him, Conrad moved willingly to cover him.

Conrad's slick fingers searched out Damian's opening. Just as he had done with Damian's mouth, his fingers traced the puckered hole, then thrust inside, twisting and stretching, while Damian moaned against Conrad's mouth and his own fingers twisted and tightened in Conrad's hair.

Conrad thrust deeper. Three fingers now, pumping with sure strokes, until Damian tore his mouth away with a cry. "Now. Ah, querido, mi amor, mi amor. Take me now."

"Anything for you, my love," Conrad promised with a final kiss. He rose up on his knees and hooked his arm under one of Damian's legs, spreading him wider. "Whatever you desire. Anything, everything..." He pushed inside, sinking quickly into slick, tight heat, then fell forward again on his elbows, kissing Damian quickly once again. "All of me." He murmured as he set up a rhythm, long, slow, powerful strokes that spoke of his need to join with Damian completely, to lose himself inside him, to demonstrate his desire to never be parted from him again.

"Querido." Damian gasped as his body tightened around Conrad. "Amado!" As wet heat splashed between them Damian tightened his arms as well, and held Conrad close. "Te quiero, tanto," he whispered in fierce tones. "Tanto, tanto, tanto, para siempre."

Para siempre. Forever. The word resounded in Conrad's mind and he came in a rush, flooding Damian with his seed. Forever. For too long there had been a cold finality about the word. The world it promised seemed empty and bleak. Tonight, that was no longer so. Tonight that world seemed warm and inviting and filled with everything he'd ever need...

"You never answered my question before," Conrad murmured, sometime later.

His breath was warm against Damian's neck and Damian was so relaxed he could barely rouse himself to answer. "Que? What question is that?"

"Did you never think of turning Paul?"

Damian stirred. Pain pierced his heart like a cold blade, slicing through the pleasant la.s.situde. "You certainly seem to be thinking about him a lot this evening."

Conrad shrugged. "You said it yourself. The new year stirs up memories. You must feel it too?"

"Of course," he answered quietly. "But the same could be said of any time. The ones you love are never very far from your mind, are they?"

"So, you did love him then?"

Damian turned in Conrad's arms until he was facing him. "Come, you already knew that. Don't say you're surprised. We've both loved many other people over the years, have we not? There are the children, for example, who I love more than life itself. And surely you are not going to try and tell me you did not love their mother? Or that you feel no love for Armand? Or even Georgia?"

"Of course. I love them all. But you make my point for me, my dear. All those you mention were either already Vampire when I met them or humans who I loved and subsequently turned. Which, once again, begs my question."

Damian sighed. "I don't know why the answer should matter to you so much, especially given the circ.u.mstances. You must know as well as I do that the children's presence in our lives when I met Paul made such a consideration impossible. It was not to be. I knew that from the start. But, no, even if that were not the case, I could never have done such a thing to him. It would have been too cruel."

"Because you regret having been turned yourself?" Conrad asked after a moment. "Because you think I cheated you out of a normal life?"

Damian shook his head. "I must be hearing things. Perhaps I am too tired for these questions to make any sense. Or maybe it is simply too late in the day. Querido, a 'normal' life? What exactly are you suggesting? Even if I knew what was meant by that, which I don't, I'm at a loss to understand you. When have I ever said anything that would lead you to believe I could wish for such a thing? It sounds most distressingly dull."

Conrad sighed and rolled onto his back. Staring up at the ceiling he answered, "Perhaps I misspoke, but don't make jokes or pretend not to understand me. After Paul died you made your thoughts on the matter very clear. You were upset, and perhaps you do not recall it, but you told me then that you feared you had ruined his life."

"Of course I remember. He loved me too well, and that was as a human. If he had been a vampire and bound to me for all eternity? It seemed to me, at that time, that to have turned him under those circ.u.mstances would have been criminal. Even had I been free to do so, even if such a step could have been taken without jeopardizing all our lives, it still would have been the most unpardonable sin I could ever have contemplated committing. That still does not explain why you should think I would feel cheated-other than by fate itself, perhaps."

"You said that you'd done to him what I had done to you. If it was so unforgivable for you to only consider it, how is it you have pardoned me when I've committed the exact same sin against you?" Conrad asked, almost hesitantly. "Or do I presume too much?"

"Foolish, foolish man," Damian scolded. "Have you listened to nothing either of us has said tonight? Did you not just swear to me that you could not bear for us to be parted again? Did you not promise to love me for the rest of your life? Were those just pretty words, Conrad? Did they mean nothing to you when you said them?"

Conrad scowled. "Of course not. Do you think me a liar? I meant every word I said."

"Bueno! That's as it should be, then. For to hear you say them, that meant the world to me! It means everything. Of course I loved Paul-better than I even knew at the time. But my heart has belonged to you since the night we met. I have belonged to you since the night we met. You speak of being selfish? Well, how am I any different than you in that regard? I regret that I spent so little time with Paul, when what I should regret is that I spent any time with him at all. It was bad enough that I consoled myself with him for a few short years, but to have done so for all eternity? I pray I am never so selfish as that. If he felt for me even a fraction of what I feel for you, then to have sentenced him to such a fate would have been beyond cruel. T eres mi amor. T eres mi vida, mi alma. You are my everything, Conrad. Only you. After all this time, you should know this."

Conrad pulled him close again. This time there were no words, or tears, or even kisses. They'd all been spent, perhaps. The two men simply held one another close for a long, long moment.

Finally Damian stirred. "So, may I hope you are satisfied with my answer at last? And will now allow me to sleep?"

Conrad nodded. A wicked smile curved his lips as he answered. "Yes. For the moment." His smile gentled as he added, "And, thank you, my dear."

"De nada," Damian replied. A moment later, he asked, "But what exactly are you thanking me for now?"

Conrad smiled once again. "For everything."

Chapter Eighteen.

"That went well," Marc said, feeling very pleased as he relaxed on his couch. It was the first day of the year, just after sunrise and almost time for bed. He felt pleased but tired as he rubbed at his forehead and fiddled absently with the strap that held his eye patch on. He smiled at Heather who, as usual, was snuggled up against him. "I told you I'd take you back to the clubs when you were ready, didn't I?"

Her eyes glowed with happiness as she smiled back at him and nodded.

"I gotta admit, it went better than I thought it would," Nighthawk said. "When you first told us what you wanted to do, I thought for sure it was a mistake."

Marc glanced across at him. "You thought I was leading you into a bloodbath tonight, didn't you?"

Nighthawk shrugged. "The thought did cross my mind. And it wasn't just me who thought it, either."