Now Comes the Night (24 page)

“At a bar here in town,” Damian finished quickly. “Just a few months ago. You know how we’ve discussed bringing in another couple of tutors for the twins? After talking to Paul, I thought he might be just what we were looking for.”

“Did you?” Conrad hadn’t missed the angry look that passed between the two men. He wondered what he wasn’t being told this time. Before he had a chance to pursue it, or Damian to respond, a chant broke out in the room around them.

“Ten…nine…eight…”

The countdown to the New Year had begun. Conrad’s lip curled into a rueful smile as he once again met Damian’s eyes. In seasons now long since passed, they might have heralded the New Year’s arrival with a kiss. Or even, perhaps, with a more intimate display of their mutual devotion.

“Seven…six…five…”

Right now, their masquerade as father and son precluded any sort of intimacy in public and the sins that lay between them kept them apart the rest of the time, as well. But it didn’t always have to be that way, did it?

“Four…three…two…”

Someday, perhaps, there would come a time when all these petty constraints would be lifted and the two of them might ring in the New Year as they once had done. Someday. Perhaps.

“Happy New Year!”

The entire room erupted in a cheer and Paul, who was under no constraints whatsoever, turned suddenly toward Damian. He clasped Damian’s head between his hands and kissed him—hard and fast and far too intimately for two men who were mere acquaintances. If Conrad had still retained any doubts, that kiss would have resolved them. The two were lovers, but he already knew that. What he didn’t know, and what he needed to know, badly, was how deeply entrenched Damian’s heart had become.

Damian grasped Paul by the shoulders and pushed him away, breaking the kiss. His face was white with shock, his eyes wide with fear, but for once, Paul seemed not to notice Damian’s distress. Instead, he turned to Conrad with an insufferably smug smile on his face. “And a very Happy New Year to you too.”

Conrad could feel his temper boiling rapidly away. There were only two things keeping him from exploding in rage, the look in Damian’s eyes and what was left of his common sense. He could certainly kill Paul. In fact, at the moment, he’d have liked nothing more. But to do so now, to reveal his true nature here, in this room full of people, would mean a death sentence for the twins and himself and for Damian as well. No amount of insolence was worth that.

With his self-control stretched taut, Conrad once again appealed wordlessly to Damian. The message in his gaze was clear, or so Conrad hoped.
Get him away from me. Now. Or else.

“Come, Paul.” Damian’s hand closed on the other man’s arm. “Let’s see who else we might introduce you to.”

Conrad didn’t bother watching them go. They couldn’t leave his sight quickly enough. He rolled his head from side to side, hoping to ease the tension in his neck. His jaw ached from the strain of keeping his fangs retracted. The bitter tang of venom flooding his mouth did nothing to sweeten his temper.
Patience
, he counseled himself. The boy was just a momentary annoyance. Damian was fickle and sure to tire of him soon. Even if he didn’t, Paul was what—maybe twenty or thirty years old? Whatever. He’d likely be dead within the next half-century—probably sooner, if this reckless behavior was his norm. Conrad could afford to wait.

Unless Damian asked Conrad to turn the boy…

For a moment, cold fear clutched at Conrad’s heart. Why should Damian not ask? How could Conrad refuse him if he did? Then he remembered. It was impossible. No matter how infatuated Damian might be, it must have occurred to him that a newly made vampire was not someone they could trust with the twins’ secret. Fledglings were far too fragile, too easily swayed. Their characters had yet to be tested. Nor could they afford to trust any human with such dangerous knowledge either, which meant Damian couldn’t be planning on telling Paul about even his own vampiric nature.

That gave Damian what? Five years? Maybe ten years at best, before the fact that he wasn’t aging became too apparent and he had to let Paul go. Ten years. Yes, Conrad could definitely wait that long.

Chapter Thirteen

“What were you thinking?” Damian pushed Paul into his bedroom then shoved him roughly away. The boy staggered a few steps before he regained his balance. Damian watched him stumble with savage joy. Even that small amount of violence eased a little of the tightness in his chest. He locked the door behind them, still struggling to regain some part of his temper, to tamp down a little more of his fear. At least he’d managed to keep his voice pitched low—so far. He still wanted to scream at the top of his lungs. He wanted to let down his fangs, turn on the boy and scare a dozen years off his misbegotten life. Instead, he growled angrily, “What happened to, ‘I can be discreet’?”

“What happened to ‘I live with my dad’?” Paul shot back.

Damian frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Dude! Do I look stupid to you or something? That guy out there? There’s no way he’s your father. I don’t care what you say.”

“Keep your voice down!” Damian admonished. “Why would you think something like that?”

“Gee, I dunno. Maybe the way he looks at you? Or the way you look at him?”

“And what way is that?” Damian asked after a moment. He wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to know, but his curiosity was aroused. “How does he look at me?”

“How do you think he looks? He looks like he’s in love with you.”

“
Sí
. Of course, he loves me. As I do him. I told you—”

“No! Stuff it, all right? It ain’t working.” Paul shook his head in disgust. “I don’t fucking believe this. What the hell am I even doing here?”

“You’re here because you said you wanted to meet my family,” Damian reminded him.

Paul snorted. “Yeah. What a joke that was.”

“You also complained we never went out in public
and
you promised to be discreet.”

“Yeah, well…you said your
family
was okay with you being gay, didn’t you? This don’t look like ‘okay’ to me. ’Sides, it was just one little kiss. At New Year’s, for Chrissake! Everyone kisses someone at midnight. It didn’t mean nothing, okay? What’re you getting so worked up for?”

“It wasn’t just the kiss.” Damian sighed in frustration. How could he possibly explain any of this? “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, you got that right. I don’t understand the first thing about this scene.” Paul threw himself down on the bed and glared balefully at Damian. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

“Conrad? No. Certainly not.”

“Well, then he’s fucking you. Either way, you know what I mean. You’re lovers.”

“No. We are
not
lovers.” Not anymore.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t know why not. I mean, he sure wants to be.”

“Do you think so?” Damian laughed bitterly as he went to join Paul on the bed. “Then you’re very much mistaken. I assure you, Pablito, that is not the case. Not in a hundred years.”

Paul studied him for a moment in silence. “Ohhh, I get it now.
You
want
him
. Is that it?”

Damian sighed. He’d wanted Conrad from the first time he saw him. But when had it ever mattered
what
Damian wanted? “It’s not what you think.”

“Yeah, no shit. This is definitely not how I was
thinking
tonight was gonna go.” Paul leaned back on his elbows. “Not. At. All.” He stared uncertainly at Damian for a moment then said, “I don’t get it, D. Why all the lies? Why couldn’t you just tell me there was someone else when I asked you? Why’d you have to play games and lead me on?”

“I did not play games. I simply—” Damian stopped mid-sentence and shook his head. It was useless to try and explain that this party was the only way he could think of to unite the two aspects of his life. “This was a mistake.” It had all been a mistake—right from the start. Thinking he had any right to a life of his own. Thinking he could ever be free of Conrad’s influence. Thinking that he could get away with not altering Paul’s memory. Conrad had been right once again.

Damian’s lip curled.
Of course
Conrad was right. Conrad was
always
right, wasn’t he? Certainly
he
thought so. Maybe it was time Damian simply accepted it. “I’m sorry, Paul. I should never have brought you here tonight.”

“Why did you? Were you just using me to try and make him jealous?”

Damian swung around to stare at Paul. “Jealous?” He shuddered at the thought, remembering what a jealous Conrad was capable of. “
Dios mio
. No!
Never
that!”

“No?” Paul jeered. “You sure? Because, you know, if that
was
the case, I think maybe you should be thanking me for that kiss. ’Cause he was lookin’ pretty damn jealous to me.”

Damian scowled. “Foolish boy. You have no idea what you’re talking about and I hope you never find out. I was right to break things off with you last summer. I should
never
have gone looking for you again. I should have stayed away—for both our sakes.” No matter how much it had hurt at the time. No matter how lonely he’d become. At least they would have been spared tonight’s debacle. “That was a mistake as well. One I won’t make again, I assure you. I was wrong to think that anything good could come of this thing between us.”

“What?” Paul sat up quickly, eyes wide with alarm. “No! Baby, please, don’t say that. I didn’t mean it, okay? I swear I didn’t. I’m sorry, all right? I shouldn’t have been such a little bitch. Of course you weren’t wrong.” He wrapped his arms around Damian’s shoulders and hugged him tight. “This
is
good. What we have together, you and me, it’s
very
good, isn’t it? C’mon, you know it is. Admit it.”

“Is it good?” Damian turned his head to meet Paul’s gaze, startled by the pain in his eyes. Clearly Damian had not been the only one who’d suffered over the course of that seemingly endless summer. “Why? You don’t seem very happy tonight, Pablito. You didn’t seem very happy when you were complaining that we never go anywhere together. It seems I frequently make you unhappy. Don’t you think you’d be better off with someone else? I certainly do.”

“I don’t want someone else,” Paul insisted. “I want
you
. I love you, D.”

Love? Damian’s shoulders sagged. He shook his head sadly. “Oh, Pablito. Please don’t say that.”

Paul shrugged. “Sorry. I guess maybe that’s not what you wanted to hear, but I do all the same.”

“Well, don’t. I promise you, I’ll only break your heart.”

An ironic smile lifted the corners of Paul’s mouth. He stared at Damian without speaking, but the message in his eyes was loud and clear. Too late for that.

Damian dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry. This can’t work.” He tried not to think about the pain he’d already inflicted on Paul. What was done, was done, after all, and could not be undone. But, at least he could try and spare him any more pain. “You’ll be better off without me.” In time, the boy would get over his infatuation and the quicker the cut, the faster the healing.

Without a word, Paul got off the bed and started pacing, up and back a couple of times before coming to an abrupt stop right in front of Damian. “You know what? Fuck you, D. You don’t get to tell me how to feel, especially not when you’ve always got one foot out the door. You want to walk away from me again? Go ahead. At least, this time, you had the guts to tell me to my face, so I guess that’s something. But, either way this is your decision, not mine. You don’t get to pretend you’re doing it for my sake.”

“But that
is
why I’m doing it.” Damian stood and gazed sadly at Paul. “And if I had any other option, this is not what I’d choose. But, as it is…what else am I to do?”

Paul shrugged. “Stay. That’s a choice too, isn’t it? Why not choose that one?”

“Because this can never work out the way you want it to—never. And, in the long run, I’m afraid we’ll both have cause to regret it.”

“Okay, well…maybe we will. But so what? That’s life, right? If this is what we both want now, why not go for it? I’m not afraid, D. No matter what happens. I’ll risk it if you will.”

Damian smiled. He couldn’t help but be just a little amused by this turn of events. It was usually he who risked too much, who put his heart on the line and refused to count the cost. Is this really what he’d put Conrad through, over and over again? No wonder the man had grown tired of him!

“I don’t know what you’re so afraid of, D, but you gotta stop trying to protect me. I’m not a kid. I don’t need a daddy. I mean, maybe you do, all right? Maybe that’s what all this is about, this…this
thing
you’ve got going on here, whatever it is, between you and what’s-his-name. And maybe you think you need to be that for me too, but you don’t. That’s your issue, all right? It’s not mine. I can take care of myself.”

Damian shook his head, feeling very tired and very old. Not a kid?
Oh, Paul.
If only the boy knew how very ridiculous that sounded.

“Okay, look, maybe that’s not it. Maybe you’re doing this ’cause you think I can’t handle the fact that you’ve got someone else. Is that it? Because, you’re wrong, okay? I’m not saying it’d be my first choice, but who knows what the future holds. And I’m not afraid either. May the best man win, right? But, for now, if I have to share you with him…it’s no big deal, okay? I can deal with it. Just, please, don’t shut me out again.”