Ashes of the Day Read online

  Youngsters? Damian nearly groaned aloud. Jared had to be talking about the twins and, despite his avowed wish to avoid unpleasantness, there was no mistaking the dangerous look in those clear blue eyes. Jared was spoiling for a fight and if he wasn’t very careful, he would get one—a far more deadly battle than any he’d bargained for.

  Jared’s family was well established in the area, and had been for some time. As such, he had a vested interest in what went on here. Someone of Conrad’s stature could, of course, go wherever he pleased. There were very few vampires foolish enough to try and cross him. Any of his brood could expect to be given a wide berth as well, for fear of reprisal. Vampires who were less well connected, those who hailed from a less prestigious House, for example, would very likely be invited to leave the area immediately. And, if the vampires in question were feral, that invitation would be issued with extreme prejudice.

  “I apologize.” Conrad favored Jared with a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I should have said something sooner, perhaps. It was not my intention to cause you any unnecessary concern. There’s no need for intervention. The younglings are mine.”

  “Oh, are they?” Jared regarded Conrad with surprise. “Well, well. That’s not at all what I expected to hear. I’m glad to know it, however. I’ll be certain to pass the information along to all my people to ensure that no one takes it into their heads to try and roust them. I must say, I am pleased to learn you’re still expanding your nest. Fresh blood—that’s what our society needs in order to stay vibrant and alive. I know there are those who say it’s dangerous, in this day and age, to have too many fledglings knocking about in the world, but I disagree. If we don’t continue to move forward, if we give in to inertia, I’m convinced we’ll meet with the same fate as the dinosaur. Besides, I’m firmly of the belief that any such danger can be kept to a minimum. It’s all in the raising. Bring them up right, and they’ll give you no trouble later on.”

  Claudia nodded serenely. “Yes, indeed. Breeding is so important, is it not? A strong sire can make all the difference. Some people, on the other hand, should simply never be allowed to have children at all.”

  Damian eyed her curiously, wondering how much she believed of what she said and which of them she considered unfit to parent.

  It was well after midnight before Conrad was finally able to extricate himself from Jared and his lady. He knew Jared had intentionally prolonged their conversation, no doubt expecting that Conrad would, at some point, order Damian to bring the twins over so that they might be formally introduced. Proper protocol might have demanded that he do so, but Conrad was not yet ready to take that step. Better to let Jared think him rude, or believe he’d recently adopted the more relaxed manners supposedly endemic to the West Coast than to run the risk of starting any more rumors—or worse yet, starting a war. Where the twins were concerned, Conrad knew he could never be objective. Therefore, he’d much rather err on the side of caution.

  “Well, that could have gone worse,” he observed after Jared and Claudia had finally taken their leave. In truth, however, it was hard to see how. From start to finish, the entire evening had merely proved all his worst fears a reality.

  He’d had only one reason for suggesting they attend such a large public gathering. He’d been hoping the festive atmosphere would spark some sign of life in Damian. Instead, he’d remained as glum as ever. His continuing lack of interest—in anything at all—had progressed from worrisome to alarming and could easily turn deadly if left unchecked. Conrad had seen it happen before. The losses that inevitably accompanied eternal life grew sometimes too heavy to bear. As apathy increased, mistakes were made. Sometimes those mistakes proved fatal.

  Under normal circumstances, if anything that involved the two of them could ever be categorized as normal, Conrad would have bent all his efforts toward protecting Damian, caring for him until he could once again care for himself—even if it took an eternity for him to reach that point. The presence of the twins in their lives complicated matters, as tonight’s encounter illustrated far too clearly.

  For thirty years the four of them had lived their lives in a kind of bubble, isolated from others of their kind. Hidden. Secluded. Safe. That had not occurred by accident. Rather, it was the successful result of a carefully thought out, meticulously followed plan. Had he and Damian grown too complacent of late? Or was Damian’s worsening depression making him careless?

  If it were the latter, then by rights Conrad should order Damian to take some time off. To go away somewhere until he could pull himself together. To distance himself from the twins until he was no longer a threat to their welfare.

  But, if he did that, who would watch over Damian and protect him from himself?

  “Did you mean what you said tonight?” There was a bleak, hopeless note to Damian’s voice that tore at Conrad’s heart. “Are you really planning to return to San Francisco so soon?”

  Conrad pulled his attention from a drifting balloon that had been lofted from the dance floor below. “Yes, I think so. Although, I admit, I hadn’t made up my mind until this evening. Seeing Jared reminded me that I have other obligations. I’ve ignored them for too long.”

  “When would you be going?” Damian asked. His posture was stiff but his tone was still indifferent.

  “As soon as arrangements can be made to ensure the twins’ safety, I suppose. It will be hard on them. I’m not entirely happy about the prospect of leaving them completely on their own like this, but it must be done. And, of course, they’ll still have each other.”

  “On-on their own?” There was real fear in Damian’s eyes as he turned to face him. Conrad felt selfish for being so pleased about that. As an emotion, fear would not have been his first choice, but anything was better than the blasé lack of interest that had become Damian’s usual mood. “Without either of us to watch out for them? Conrad…you can’t mean that. It’s far too dangerous.”

  “I disagree.” At this point, the real danger would be to leave the twins in Damian’s care or, even worse perhaps, to leave Damian alone. “There’s some risk to it, I realize that, but what else are we to do? They’ll have to spread their wings at some point, you know. We can’t keep them wrapped up forever. I think it was a stroke of luck, our running into Jared here tonight. I’ll go and have a word with him sometime in the next few days and ask for his assistance. I’m sure he can be counted on to keep an eye on the children without interfering. Doing so will take very little effort on his part, after all, and it will put me in his debt—something I’m sure he’ll be quick to recognize. And to mention.”

  “But what if—” Damian broke off. He glanced around quickly and then lowered his voice. “What if, in keeping an eye on them, he learns their secret?”

  Conrad nodded. That was a risk as well, but one he felt he had no choice but to take. “I am fairly confident he can be counted on to keep his distance. I’ll simply tell him I’m concerned they’ve grown too soft. I’ll explain I’m hoping to use the isolation as a way to toughen them up and would therefore appreciate their being left strictly alone, so that they might work things out on their own.”

  Damian rolled his eyes. “Ah, sí. That sounds exactly like the kind of plan he’d approve.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? Plus, he’ll see nothing strange in their being kept so far from the nest, not once I explain that they have relatives and childhood friends who are still living on the West Coast. They’re young enough for that to be true, you know.”

  “Sí. On that, too, we agree. They’re entirely too young. And since they do not actually have any relatives there, why can’t you take them to San Francisco with you? Or, better yet, let me stay with them here. I’ll keep them safe. I’m far more likely to do so than Jared is!”

  “Come, my friend,” Conrad urged. “Was it not you who pointed out that we cannot always be there for them? It’s still too soon for them to return to San Francisco. I have people there who will still remember their mother
and my attachment to her. It isn’t likely anyone will make a connection, but it’s not impossible that they might do so. If I were to return with the two of them in tow, dangerous conclusions might be drawn. Give it a couple of decades more and most of the danger will be behind them. You’ve said it yourself, they need more experience standing on their own two feet, anyway.”

  “How like you to throw my own words back at me,” Damian grumbled. “But why not let me stay with them? I can stay in the background and let them make their own decisions. If that’s what’s worrying you, you should know me better.”

  “Quietly,” Conrad cautioned, glancing around to make sure they were not being overheard. “Ask yourself, how would it look to people if I left you behind? Especially now, after we’ve been seen together. Jared believes us to be a couple still. If he were to hear I’d agreed to deprive myself of your company, simply so that you might coddle our two fledglings, what would he think?”

  Damian snarled. “Ay, Dios mio. We’re not a couple, are we? So you deprive yourself of nothing by leaving me behind. As for Jared, I neither know nor care what he may think. And since when have you ever cared what anyone thinks?”

  “Since I’ve had the children’s well-being to consider,” Conrad replied, lowering his voice even more and closing the distance between them, until they were standing practically toe-to-toe. “For their sake, I’m forced to consider what everyone might think.”

  Not a couple? It was all Conrad could do to keep the beast muzzled. How dare he throw that in my face?

  It had been Damian’s decision that they not be lovers. That was the condition he’d set for agreeing to help Conrad with the twins. How many times in the thirty years since then had Conrad regretted having given in to Damian’s demand? But what choice did he have? His situation had been so desperate, his need so great, that he’d have readily accepted whatever outrageous terms Damian might have felt like asking for.

  To be fair, Damian had asked for nothing more than was reasonable. And Conrad would honor his promise, out of gratitude, if nothing else, for as long as necessary. But in his heart of hearts he would never fully accept it. And he would never stop hoping that someday Damian might change his mind.

  Damian dropped his gaze. “If your mind is made up, I suppose there’s no use in my trying to change it. It is for you to decide, after all. I will, of course, do whatever you think best.”

  Would he really? Conrad jumped at the chance. “I’m glad to hear you say so. Because what I think best is for you to accompany me to San Francisco.”

  “What?” Damian turned startled eyes in his direction. “You’re not serious?”

  “Indeed, I’m very serious.”

  “Why? In what capacity?”

  Conrad shrugged. “I’m surprised you need even ask.” He’d make it an order, if he had to, but he was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. “You know Claudia has never been one to be discreet. Imagine how awkward it would be if I were to return to San Francisco alone at a time when our entire world is abuzz with rumors that we’re back together. It could raise all sorts of questions as to what I’ve really been doing all this time. On the other hand, my prolonged absence from the nest, even my inattention to my other duties would be fairly easy to explain, were we together. You have always been a powerful distraction, my dear. Everyone knows that. But, if you’re not with me…”

  “So that’s what you’re proposing? That we carry on a…a charade of sorts?”

  “There’s still a lot of work to be done in order to safeguard the children’s future. Surely you realize that? We have quite a ways to go before we can relax our guard where they’re concerned.”

  “I know. I understand all that,” Damian said impatiently. “That’s not why I’m asking.”

  “Well then?”

  “What of us, Conrad? How are we to live? If it’s just an act… Can I assume that we will each still be free to take other lovers into our beds?”

  Conrad wasn’t sure which of Damian’s words provoked his temper more, “other lovers” or “beds”. Why the plural? Why must they continue to keep to their separate beds? Why should he be expected to bear with equanimity any more of Damian’s affairs? “Of course,” he growled. “I’ve told you time and again that I do not keep slaves. Nor have I ever expected that you would wish to live like a monk.”

  “Well, that’s a blessing,” Damian muttered. “So, might I also expect to have my own set of rooms then, at least—separate from yours? And the freedom to come and go as I please, to do as I like within them?”

  Conrad gritted his teeth. If that’s what it would take, so be it. “Yes. Within reason. If that’s what you wish. But, Damian, you do realize we must be discreet? We must work to present a united front while in public.”

  “It won’t be easy. And we’ll both have to be discreet for this to work.”

  Conrad sighed. “I realize that, but if people do not truly believe we have reconciled with one another, if they suspect it’s merely an act, that could increase the danger to the twins as well. On the bright side, we need only keep it up for a few decades or so. After that…” He shrugged. After that, either things would change, or he would invent some other excuse to keep Damian at his side. And, if even that failed, he would let him go.

  If that was what Damian truly wanted, how could he say no?

  “Sí, sí. That goes without saying. You know I would never do anything to cause the children harm.”

  “Not intentionally, no,” Conrad said in agreement. “Nor would I. Their well-being is of the utmost importance to me.”

  “To me, also.” Damian glanced away, his jaw clenching as he cast his gaze over the crowd. “Very well,” he said at last. “I will do as you ask. But now, if you’ll excuse me, I-I’m suddenly feeling quite famished. I think I need to find something to eat.”

  He walked away without so much as a backward glance in Conrad’s direction. Conrad had to fight the urge to howl in anger. He should feel more content with tonight’s work. He should at least feel relieved that he had found a temporary solution to his most pressing problems. Instead, all he felt was an ache that reached all the way to the depths of his soul. If only they were actually getting back together, rather than just pretending it was the case. But that was not to be. Not yet. For that he would maybe have to wait for another day—or perhaps for yet another millennium to dawn.

  Chapter Two

  San Francisco, California

  Christmas, 2009

  The look in Conrad’s eyes stole Damian’s breath away, but it was his words that threatened to overwhelm him. “The truth, mi amore, is that you’ve always been my greatest strength…”

  Damian dropped his gaze, unable to meet that penetrating stare any longer. As he stammered something in reply, the rest of Conrad’s words continued to echo in his mind. “Whenever I’ve been at my weakest, it’s to you I’ve turned…for comfort, for support…”

  He shook his head in amazement, successfully squelching the urge to open his mouth and argue the point. He hadn’t always been strong or supportive. There were times when he, too, had been weak or selfish or acted impulsively. Not as many times as Conrad liked to claim, of course, but upon occasion. And he’d made mistakes too—terrible mistakes, for which he’d paid dearly.

  But only a fool would ruin this moment by mentioning such horribly inconvenient facts. For all the complaining he’d done about Conrad, about how he cut short every conversation Damian tried to have with him, how he never wished to discuss matters in-depth, this was one occasion when Damian found himself in complete agreement with his lover’s laconic philosophy. Why waste time talking when there were far better ways in which they might communicate all that they were feeling?

  Damian clasped his hands around Conrad’s head and shifted closer until their lips met in a fierce kiss. A surprisingly helpless-sounding groan rumbled in Conrad’s throat. Damian reveled in it. The taste and the feel of Conrad’s mouth on his was so perfect, so familiar, so absolutel
y right. As was the sense of peace he felt when Conrad’s arms tightened around him.

  There had been times, especially recently, when he’d felt fear while in Conrad’s embrace, times when Conrad’s enormous strength, and the realization of how much pain he could cause, had left Damian daunted and desperate to hide it. This was not one of those times. He felt cherished tonight. Loved. Safe.

  Heat flared as Conrad’s hands roamed over Damian’s back, exploring every inch with a touch that was at once both possessive and needy. Fingers pressed harder into Damian’s flesh. If he’d been human, they might have left bruises. All they left him with now, however, was the stark realization that he was dressed in nothing but a thin silk robe. Even that seemed too much of a barrier. Damian peeled his mouth away from Conrad’s, pulling away only far enough to deliver a series of small bites—lower lip, chin, jaw, ear, neck.

  “Damian.” Conrad’s voice shook as he breathed his name, making it less an order this time than a plea for him to continue.

  Damian’s legs shook too, as he struggled to stay upright to not fall immediately to his knees as that voice, that sinful voice, worked its usual magic on him. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself away. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” he complained as he extricated himself from Conrad’s arms.

  A frown etched itself across Conrad’s brow. Growling impatiently, he tore off his shirt and flung it away. “Better?”

  The sight of Conrad’s rugged chest and arms and shoulders, the strong muscles of his abdomen with the golden dusting of hair trailing over it to disappear into the waistband of his pants, caused Damian’s mouth to water. He shrugged, deliberately nonchalant. “It’s a start.” Then he did sink to his knees, grateful for the thick, velvety pile of the Kashan carpet that cushioned the impact.

  The carpet had been billed as an antique, originally intended to grace the palace of some nameless shah or maharajah. Damian had picked the carpet out himself when he’d redecorated Conrad’s study shortly after they’d first taken up residence here. At the time, he’d been thinking only of making himself indispensible to Conrad, expressing his gratitude for having been brought here. And perhaps giving himself an innocent-seeming excuse for spending as much time as he could in Conrad’s private quarters.