About Blood Knot

To survive they must trust each other.  Only…can they?

Winter, a professional thief who can manipulate others’ biologies by touch, accidentally “healed” her former partner—and former vampire—Sebastian, whom she secretly loves. Her healing created a symbiotic pairing between them that neither of them wants.

Nathanial, a sexy thousand-year-old vampire and Sebastian’s ex-lover, talks Sebastian and Winter into stealing evidence that will expose all vampires to the world. But Nathanial is a puppet-master who doesn’t believe in falling in love with humans, leaving Winter unsure of his real feelings for her once he seduces her, or how he feels about Sebastian, the former vampire-now-human whose life he has turned upside down once more.

But the evidence they steal is hot property.  The future of all vampires is on the line and others will stop at nothing to get it, leaving Sebastian, Winter and Nathanial with no allies but each other.  They must trust each other to survive.  Only...can they?

WARNING:  This paranormal MMF urban fantasy contains two hot, sexy alpha heroes, frequent, explicit and frank sex scenes and sexual language.

It includes heart-stopping sexual scenes between the aforementioned sexy heroes, ménage scenes, anal sex and the use of sex toys.  Don't proceed beyond this point if hot love scenes offend you.

No vampires were harmed in the making of this novel.

This book is part of the Blood Stone Series

Blood Stone 1: Blood Knot (#1 Amazon Best Seller, Fantasy Romance)

Blood Drops 1.1: Southampton Swindle*

Blood Drops 1.2: Broken Promise

Blood Drops 1.3:  Vale

Blood Drops 1.5:  Amor Meus

Blood Stone 2: Blood Stone

Blood Stone 3: Blood Unleashed

Blood Stone 3.5:  Blood Drive – Blood Stone Boxed Set 1

Blood Stone 4:  Blood Revealed (Upcoming)

[*Blood Drops are short and novella length stories featuring the characters and situations in the Blood Stone series.  Droplet sized morsels for your reading pleasure.]

These are continuing characters and storylines. Reading the series in order is strongly recommended.

Praise for Blood Knot

#1 Best-Selling Fantasy, Futuristic & Ghost Romance Amazon Best-Seller

Top 100, Amazon Vampire Romance Best-Seller

Winner of the Coffee Time Reviewer’s Recommended Award

Listed as one of Goodread’s “Most Drool-worthy Covers“

Nominated for Erotic Vampire Book of the Year by The Romance Reviews, November 2011

CAPA Nomination, Best Paranormal Book of the Year by The Romance Studio, December, 2011

5 Stars - Not only do you get to read a brilliantly written story, but a novel full of different elements that add hard-edged curves, unbelievable circumstances, and overwhelming odds.  Coffee Time Romance & More

5 Stars - I’m blown away by the experience of this book. There was so much intensity between the characters, the chemistry between Winter, Nial and Sebastian left me panting in places…I emerged with a lump in my throat, tears in my eyes and my heart racing.  The Bookish Snob

5 Stars - I lost a little of my heart to each of these characters. If you’re a fan of hot urban fantasy (and I do mean oven mit HOT), pick up Blood Knot, you won’t be disappointed. Alternative Read

5 Stars - This is one of those hidden gems in the self-publishing world. I haven’t read a better love story than Blood Knot in a very long time.  This one is her best so far. Don’t miss it. The Romance Studio

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Contents

About Blood Knot

Praise for Blood Knot

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

About the Author

Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey

Copyright Information

Chapter One

He got the drop on her, but he was a vampire so he had the advantage of speed and stealth. Too, he was only the second vampire Winter had ever met. Just like Sebastian, this one posed as human, but Singapore had made Winter smarter in one foul night.

He came up behind her as she was stuffing the last of the foil food packages into her backpack. Winter was working on the bench in her shed, thinking about trails and weather and the weight of her pack. She had let her guard down, which was a mistake. Just because Helena, Montana, wasn’t New York, New York and she was technically retired didn’t mean a thing to others in the thievery business.

The floor of the shed was sand, with liberal splashes of old machine oil that gave the shed a musty aroma that always made Winter think of men swearing as they worked on their vehicles, stripped to the waist and kicking the tires for good measure. She liked working in the shed. It made her feel industrious.

The oil and dirt also made the vampire’s approach silent. Instead, a change in the quality of the early morning light filtering through the open double doors, glinting off the side of her black Ford Explorer sitting silently to her right tipped her off. In her peripheral vision something flickered—

She whirled, snatching the lug wrench up from the bench and kept turning.

The wrench slammed into the man’s forearm. He’d been reaching for her. She saw startling blue eyes. Short black unruly hair. That was all she had time to register. He cried out in surprise and his arm was forced upward by the impact of the wrench.

Winter ducked under his arm and took off, heading for the open doors of the shed. It meant moving past his left hand but she had surprised him. He might not react fast enough.

His hand snapped out, curling around her arm and bringing her to a halt with enough strength that she was yanked almost completely off her feet. Her breath pushed out of her.

Fear sizzled through her as he slammed her up against the Explorer. The strength in him! And she couldn’t help the comparison, even though she hated herself for even thinking of it: Sebastian had never shown such strength. He had never hinted of such power, before.

Bitterness circled through her as she looked at the man’s—the vampire’s—face. Sebastian had been careful never to reveal his full power, she realized.

“You’re a vampire,” she concluded.

“Very good,” he said, stepping away from her. He had an accent, a strange one. She thought it might be Eastern European, but it had eroded so badly from either years or other cultures she would have to hear him speak further to know for sure.

He held out his hand. “If you don’t mind? I did not come here to fight.”

Winter shook her head. “I’ll keep the wrench for now.”

He smiled in a way that made it look like he was trying not to laugh. “As you wish.” He shrugged. The shrug seemed to say, Keep your toy. Don’t keep it. It is irrelevant to me.

Winter looked down at the wrench. She had hit him with enough force to break a normal man’s arm and he had merely brushed her aside. With a grimace, she tossed the wrench onto the bench. She was going to have to rely on his word that he wasn’t here to fight.

“Thank you,” he said. He took another step back, putting a good two feet of space between them.

“I didn’t put the wrench down for you.” Winter wasn’t fooled by the space. Once—just once—she had seen how fast Sebastian could react when he needed to. This man could close the space at a speed Winter would be hard put to follow with her naked eyes. This vampire.

He spread his hands in an amiable gesture. “You did not put the wrench down for me, but I thank you anyway.” He dropped his hands to his sides once more. It was an easy, comfortable stance. Sebastian would have shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans by now. This one wasn’t wearing jeans, though. He had on what looked like a pair of dark grey or black suede trousers and a black leather jacket. That was all the detail she could make out in the low light of the shed.

“I did not mean to startle you,” he continued. “You were concentrating on your task. I called your name, but you didn’t respond.”

“You lie,” she said flatly. “The dog would have warned me if your approach had been so open.”

“The dog?” He smiled. “I see that Sebastian was not entirely forthcoming about our nature.” He turned his head to look toward the open shed door.

After a few seconds, her big German Shepherd, Prince, trotted inside and over to the man. He sat in front of him and looked up with his tongue hanging out.

The man patted Prince’s head.

Winter stared at the massive dog, which had an uneven temper and had snapped at her once or twice. Now Prince licked the vampire’s hand and gave little whines.

“His name is Steffen, by the way, not Prince.”

Winter gave a short laugh. “Says who?”

“He does.” The man shrugged again. “These are pack creatures. You need to be a master to him, not a mother. That is why he gets confused at times and snaps.” He glanced at the door. “Go now,” he told the dog.

Prince—Steffen—turned and trotted out of the shed again, his bushy tail wagging.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “And what do you want?”

He straightened, brushing dog hairs from his hand. “Perhaps we should discuss this inside.”

“Too dirty for you here?” she asked sweetly. She shook her head. “You’re not stepping foot inside my house.” She let her smile widen. “We can sit outside if you like. I have a table and chairs on the front deck.”

He glanced out at the steadily brightening day. “No, thank you.” He brought his gaze back to her. His eyes seemed luminous and she wondered if it was just a trick of the light. “But you already knew I would refuse, didn’t you? A fact that Sebastian has chosen to impart, then.”

“Nope.” She crossed her arms. “But I’ve done a lot of thinking lately, digging through past events. Sebastian avoided direct sunlight when he could. He could walk around in sunlight and didn’t explode or go up in flame, but he wasn’t happy about it.” Annoyance touched her. Why was she spilling her guts to this person, anyway? “You know Sebastian. You know him well enough to know his….” She hesitated. She could barely find an appropriate word for the precise relationship between them. “You know Sebastian well enough to know Sebastian might have revealed his true nature to me. I can think of very few people in Sebastian’s life he might give that information to. Only one of them is a vampire.”

The man stood watching her, his expression unmoving. He wasn’t going to help her by offering any confirmation, or speaking the uncomfortable truth for her.

Winter gripped her elbows with her fingers, squeezing tightly. Her heart was racing. Too much adrenaline was pumping through her system. She reached inside, and counteracted the adrenaline with endorphins. She massaged her heart and brought her blood pressure back down to more normal levels. If this vampire was who she now suspected him to be, she was going to need every advantage, both physical and mental, she could muster to deal with him. Calm returned.

“If you are who I think you are,” Winter told him, “then I do not understand why you are here.”

“Who am I?” he asked, sounding curious.

“Nathanial.”

He nodded.

She let out her breath. It sounded a little shaky, the last dregs of the adrenaline still affecting her. “I don’t know why you are here, Nathanial. But then, I’ve learned I know nothing about anything, these last months.” She paused as the shakiness seemed to leap inside her. A hot, hard thing. Demanding, like an itch she couldn’t scratch. Or a need to be filled.

Quickly, she tried to adjust her body chemicals to deal with it. The bio-chemical mix was something new. Something she had never experienced. The physical symptoms it produced were compulsive. She could only dampen them down a little, but it would have to do. Nathanial would notice if she focused inwards for too long. She blinked and forced her attention back to the man in front of her.

Sebastian had told her very little about Nathanial’s true nature, except to say that he was centuries old. But in the years she and Sebastian had been working together, he had spoken many times about Nathanial as a man—about his intellect and political scheming. Winter could experience for herself now the power of his personality. Even though Nathanial simply stood in front of her, she could feel the way he was controlling the conversation. Leading her.

It annoyed her, but she wasn’t sure how to wrest the conversation back to her agenda. She didn’t have an agenda. He had come looking for her. She had been caught flat-footed and now was back-pedaling madly.

This was exactly what Sebastian used to complain about—how Nial would catch people unaware and leave them trailing in his mental dust. Manipulate them and make them do exactly what Nial wanted them to do. Oh, the bitterness in Sebastian’s voice when he had talked about Nial’s power to push people around that way…

Here she was, being moved around like a chess piece, exactly the way Sebastian despised. Winter was suddenly glad Sebastian wasn’t around to see this.

She swallowed, her throat dry and raspy. “What do you want, Nathanial?” She squeezed her arms again, digging her fingernails in. The peculiar surges were growing stronger.

Nathanial shrugged, as if it were obvious. “I have come to find Sebastian.”

This time, her laughter bubbled up from deep within some hard, aching place inside her. It spewed out before she could stop it. There wasn’t a single shred of humor in the loud noise that exploded from her lips. Even Winter could feel the hysteria attached to it and fought to hang onto the shreds of her control. “What makes you think I have any idea where he is?” she cried. A shudder ran through her.

Nathanial’s eyes narrowed. “Gods above…” he breathed.

Abruptly he was suddenly there, right in front of her and so close, she shivered again as her own body heat bounced off him and warmed the space between them. She was hot. Too hot.

He pushed his hand into her hair, his thumb against her temple, controlling her head. He lifted it up and around so the light from the doorway fell on it. She winced.

“What are you?” he demanded.

Frightened, she tried to pull her head out of his grip. “Leave me alone.” But she was weak. Weaker than usual. Nathanial was much, much stronger than a normal man. He was staring into her face. “You are not a vampire,” he declared. “You are human.”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“But you are gripped by blood-fever. I can see the symptoms for myself. How can this be?” He dropped his hands from her face. “You need to feed. Now.”

Coldness curled around the pit of her stomach. “No,” she whispered. “It’s too early.”

Nathanial’s gaze seemed to scoop up every little skerrick of data she was giving him. She wished he was not here, storing all this evidence. But there was no help for it. Bad timing. Very bad timing. Still, while he was here, she could use him. “Is that was these symptoms are? Blood…?”

“Fever,” he finished. “Did Sebastian not teach you this?” He lifted his thumb to his mouth and drew the ball of it across the edge of his teeth.

She licked her lips. “I haven’t seen Sebastian for eight—” Ravenous need swept away her concentration, for Nathanial had brought his thumb close to her face. There was blood on it.

She began to pant. The smell of leather and cashmere and a delicious spicy aroma enveloped her. She reached for him, for the strength she needed. The blood.

“Mine is not the blood you need.” Low words breathed in her ear. “Tell me who’s you need.”

“Sebastian’s.” She felt a tear escape her eye.

“He would not have abandoned you to the blood fever, not knowingly.” Nathanial spoke softly in her ear.

“The house,” Winter replied, feeling a helpless vulnerability at having to give Nathanial this last secret. “The basement.”

She felt herself being lifted. Then nothing more.

* * * * *

Winter knew she was in her own basement before she opened her eyes. The sting of the IV needle was unmistakable. So was the quiet hum of the big laboratory refrigerator and the generator in the insulated furnace room that ran it.

“You were going to tell me you haven’t seen Sebastian for eight months, weren’t you?” Nathanial said.

She opened her eyes and looked to the right, the direction his voice came from. Nathanial was resting on a bar stool, his long legs thrust out in front of him. One elbow rested on the bar itself, behind him. He’d removed the leather jacket. Beneath, he wore a royal blue sweater in some fine material, with a V-neck. Cashmere, she suspected.

In the better lighting available in the basement, she could see his features more clearly. Sebastian had spent the nearly two years they had worked together building up a fearsome picture in Winter’s mind of Nathanial and his ways—a manipulative, powerful, remote man who stopped at nothing to get what he wanted. The last time she had seen Sebastian, he had revealed the rest: that Nial was at least a thousand years old and had lived that long because he was a crafty, scheming and self-interested vampire who had grown detached from the human race.

What Sebastian had failed to add was that Nial—Nathanial—looked like a man in his mid- to late thirties and was stunningly attractive. Winter could feel the pull of his magnetism despite knowing what she did about him.

His eyes were the blue of a cloudless summer day and almost as dazzling as one. He had a square, determined chin—perhaps the only part of his anatomy that hinted at his true nature. The rest of him was utterly distracting. His shoulders were wide and well-muscled, the hips taut and the legs long and just as well-developed as the shoulders. He’d pushed the sweater up his arms to his elbows and the forearms flexed, showing the play of tendons and muscles and veins. His wrists were wide and his hands were big, which matched his height. Winter judged him to be about six foot four, by the way he stood over her.

Now he stood again and came over to where she lay in the extended La-Z-Boy. “How often do you have to feed, Winter?”

“None of your business.”

“It might be,” he replied. “I checked the rest of the fridge. Current health guidelines for maximum storage limits of blood in a laboratory refrigerator are either twenty-one days or forty-two days, depending on who you want to listen to. You don’t have a lot of Sebastian’s blood here. One feed left, if you use the entire bag I put on the pole.” He looked up at the IV pole next to her. “And you’ve just about drained it, so let’s assume that you use a half-pint per feeding. That means you have one feeding left in the fridge.”

“He’ll send me more,” Winter assured him. “He always does.”

“Really? When was the last time you received any?”

She bit her lip. “About six weeks ago,” she admitted.

“How often was he sending the blood before that?”

“Every three weeks.”

“Every twenty-one days, in other words. National blood storage standards.” Nathanial curled his hand into a fist and let it unroll again, then flexed the fingers. “It didn’t occur to you to contact him and ask him why he had stopped shipping his blood?”

An image flashed through her mind of speaking to Sebastian and being in the same room with him.  The image was too fast to grasp and properly visualize it. Panic touched her.

Winter looked at Nathanial. “Sebastian is the last person on earth I can bear to speak to, even if I must. I thought of it, yes. That’s all I did.”

Nathanial eyes widened, but that was all the shock he showed. “You will not, even if not speaking to him will bring you to this?” he asked, waving his hand toward where she lay. “Blood fever and your eventual death?”

“Is that what will happen?” she asked dully. She shrugged.

Nathanial frowned. With a soft word in a language she did not know, he strode over to the small dining table in the far corner, picked up one of the chairs and placed it next to her La-Z-Boy. He sat on the edge of the seat and leaned close to her, his elbows on his knees, his hands gripped together between them.

“What happened to you? To both of you?” he demanded. “A year ago, Winter Kennedy, you were living in New York and considered to be one of the world’s best acrobats.”

Winter rolled her eyes. “Quit with the pretty euphemisms, Nathaniel. I’m a thief. You’re a con man. Or at least you used to be once.”

Nathanial nodded. “Very well. Plain speaking, if you insist. My question still stands. A year ago you and Sebastian were considered to be the most effective team in the world, bar none. Now you tell me you haven’t seen him for eight months. I know you both pulled off that Sumitomo Mitsui bank job in Singapore last June. That was eleven months ago. What has happened in between?”

Shocked slithered through her, cold and sobering. “What makes you think we did the Singapore contract?” she asked, making it sound casual. “That’s more along Pedro Salvomir’s line, big banks like that.”

“Twenty floors up, not a single guard hurt and no one can remember a damn thing?” Nathanial smiled, showing very white and even teeth. “That would be enough to brand the job as yours, even if Sebastian himself hadn’t told me you two had taken the contract.”

“He told you?” She had run out of the capacity to be shocked any further and could only stare at him. “He met with you?” Surely Sebastian would have mentioned an occasion as momentous as meeting the man who had left such a huge scar on his life and his soul?

Nathanial’s smile faded. “There is so much you have yet to learn, Winter Kennedy. Our kind doesn’t meet. Not if we can help it. It reduces risks.” He shook his head. A small movement. “He called me.”

She drew a shaky breath. “He called,” she repeated flatly. “And didn’t tell me.” She reached over to yank the fat needle out of the crook of her elbow. “Well, that fits the pattern. There’s bushels he didn’t tell me.”

Nathanial’s hand came down on her shoulder, halting her. “Secrecy is necessary for our survival, Winter. After a while it becomes psychologically ingrained. You’ll understand all too soon.”

She pulled her shoulder out of his grip. “I’m not one of you.”

He smiled. “No, you’re not.” He sat back again, his hands threaded together between his knees, and let her pull her IV out. “What happened after the bank job?” he said. “Or was it the bank job that went wrong?”

Winter flinched. She couldn’t help it. She let the needle drop so it clanged softly against the pole. The blood bag was empty.

“The bank job, then,” Nathanial concluded. “Tell me what happened.”

She shook her head. There was no way she was about to tell Nathanial that tale. Sebastian was bitter and still licking the wounds he wore from his time with Nial, so Winter knew that anything he’d ever told her about the man had to be filtered and adjusted through his biases, but even adjusting for Sebastian’s prejudices meant that Nathanial was a dangerous person to open up to. The habits of the con man had never left him and he stored people’s vulnerabilities and secrets like currency, to be produced at later dates for negotiation.

Nathanial gave a small hiss. “Sebastian is missing,” he snapped. “Have you not grasped that yet? I didn’t come here to pass the time of day with you.” He stood abruptly and took two slow steps away from her, as if he were controlling himself.

“Missing?” She pushed the lounger into the upright position. “How do you know he’s not off on some jaunt somewhere, brooding?”

He didn’t look back at her. “Your blood supply has stopped, hasn’t it?”

Winter bit her lip. Adrenaline was seeping back into her system and she corrected it again. Now was not the time to panic. This could be nothing. Sebastian hadn’t spoken to her for eight months. “He’s a grown man,” Winter said, addressing Nathanial’s back. “He’s…hell, I don’t know how old he is. He wouldn’t tell me. He’s been taking care of himself for quite a while.”

Nathanial turned, then. “He was supposed to meet me last week. He didn’t. Unlike human meetings, these meetings are sacrosanct in our world. You make them, or ensure a message is sent to let the other know you will not be there. You never just not show. Something is very wrong.” He pointed at her. “There is something wrong with you, too, Winter. You know that.”

She couldn’t hold his gaze. She found herself looking away, at her knees in their worn jeans.

“Yes, you agree with me,” he said softly. “Tell me what happened in Singapore. Then I might be able to begin to trace Sebastian…” He grimaced. “If it isn’t already too late.”

Chapter Two

Sumitomo Mitsui Bank Commercial Depository, Raffles City Tower, Raffles Avenue, Singapore—Eleven months ago

The job had almost been too easy. Right from the start Winter had been nervous about the setup, although Sebastian kept reassuring her that if they systematically checked their security and kept to their normal procedures, then they would be able to cope with anything unexpected that came at them.

It was hard to pass up a two million dollar pay day. It bothered her that Pedro Slavomir had been first to pass, though. What had he seen about this job that she could not?

But the job had gone flawlessly. To begin, they had misdirected. It was inevitable that rumors might leak of a potential job. When the gossip emerged, it had been easy to draw attention to a more obvious target, the retail Sumitomo Mitsui Bank on Temasek Avenue. Very few people were aware of Sumitomo’s new commercial facility in the Raffles tower, which easily surpassed the retail branch in turnover.

After cocktails and dancing in the Raffles Hotel, Sebastian and Winter had made their tipsy way to their hotel room around one a.m., looking for all the world like a couple about to spend the night in each other’s arms. They were dressed just like other elegant Raffles guests. Winter wore a beaded blue evening gown that hugged her figure and glittered every time she moved. It had little straps over her shoulders to hold it up and there was discreet boning and support to make the most of her cleavage. A split in the dress ran up her left thigh, showing off her silk stockings and Jimmy Choo stilettos.

Sebastian was turning heads as usual. If they hadn’t been working, he could have taken his pick of a dozen men or women who were doing everything but drool on his shoulder. He wore a dark charcoal suit that shouted good taste and expense. It made the most of his height and seemed to make a statement of the fact that he was a man who preferred the physical to the mental.

Winter could feel it in her own responses to his good looks. She was aware of her own appearance and glad that she looked her best, even though she knew it was wasted on Sebastian. Lastly, he wore a black shirt and a dull green tie that gleamed and made the most of his blond hair and green eyes.

At just over six foot high, Sebastian stood out amongst the Raffles guests. Then, when he spoke and people heard his natural well-rounded English accent, the clean vowels and his deep, thoughtful tones, they were mesmerized. If he happened to catch their gaze and speak to them directly, they were his, hook, line and sinker. Sebastian could do with them what he wanted after that. He merely had to smile and give them that sleepy, charming look of his and they would tumble into bed with him and think it was all their idea.

Winter had seen it so many times she had become inured to it now.

At least they were working tonight. She had grown used to being left sitting alone to find her own company but tonight…she couldn’t put her finger on it. It would make a difference tonight.

Just after one a.m., they put aside the last of a long series of Martinis that had been discreetly poured into potted palms, washroom sinks and toilet bowls, spilt, and otherwise disposed of. Then they staggered up the elegant Raffles staircase, ostensibly heading for their room. As soon as they were out of sight of the hotel staff and guests, they straightened up and began to walk faster.

In two minutes they were standing at the door that led onto the roof of the hotel. Winter took off her stilettos and Sebastian removed his jacket. From his pockets he pulled a pair of light rubber pumps to protect her feet and give her some footing over the silk stockings. She hitched one side of the beaded gown up and clipped it to her hip. The other side was split, giving her room to move. Her hair, black as midnight, she normally kept in a short, simple hairstyle which made her work easier. She nodded to Sebastian.

He transferred his Glocks to the holsters under his arms and readjusted the straps now he could let them show, added the flick knife and other gear from the pockets of his jacket to loops and straps designed to hold them, which he had added to the holsters.

“Let’s go,” she murmured, and disabled the alarm on the door.

They slipped out onto the roof and dropped their shoes and jacket just outside the door. Winter took a breath, feeling the low grade fizz and buzz of excitement she always got these days when the job was on.

In thirteen minutes, they had breached the Raffles Tower and reached the twentieth floor. Security was tighter on the twentieth floor, as the Sumitomo Mitsui Banking Corporation had their own security.

Here, Winter and Sebastian split up, for each had their own assignments, matched to their skills. Besides, Winter had things to do that she didn’t want Sebastian to see.

Sebastian hesitated. “Be careful,” he said in a murmur, breaking their usual silence. His eyes were narrowed, concentrating. She knew he was listening hard. His hearing was often phenomenal.

She scowled and gave him a push. Go. His task was inside the vault, this time.

Sebastian shook his head and left, moving fast and silently. He didn’t look back.

After a moment while she tried to puzzle through his uncharacteristic break with practice, she turned and hurried down the wide, silent corridor she was in. This corridor, from the schematics they had been able to purchase, surrounded the vault and data centre on three sides. The fourth side of the vault and data centre was the twenty floor drop to the street below. The guards strolled the corridor ceaselessly, in random patterns. The corporation didn’t depend upon cameras. That factor, Winter bet, had been the one that had made Pedro Slavomir pass the job up. Given the peculiar conditions of the delivery that the contract demanded, it made it almost impossible, unless you had certain skills….

There was a guard up ahead, his back to her.

Winter unclipped her dress, dropping it back down so it looked normal. She shifted her walk, making it more seductive, pushing her hips forward. She smiled. When the guard turned around, he saw her and for two precious, startled seconds he hesitated, stunned to see a woman in evening wear shimmying her way towards him. Then his brain caught up with his instincts and reason took over. There was no possible way she could be in this corridor at this time of night unless she had overcome at least six security barriers.

He reached down and back for his gun, but it was too late, Winter was already within reach of him. She rested her hand on his arm on his arm. “It’s alright,” she soothed. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

He paused, gazing at her. “It is?”

She halted the flow of his endorphins she had sent streaming into his blood as soon as she had touched him. The adrenalin spike from seeing her had been countered now. He, like most men in security and military forces, had a highly responsive biology and was easy to manipulate. She concentrated instead on soothing chemicals. Calm and happy juices. “Sure is,” she told him. “Everything’s just fine. Why don’t you sit down?”

She had learned long ago to make them sit, first. The bruises they got from falling raised too many questions later.

“Okay,” he said happily and sat on the floor. He grinned up at her.

Winter reached into his mind, rifling through the acids and proteins there, looking for the most recent patterns. “You’re not going to remember anything about me when you wake up later. You will wake refreshed from a short sleep and feel guilty about falling asleep on the job, but that’s all.” She found the sugars and fats that marked his most recent memories. “You won’t remember anything out of the ordinary other than you fell asleep and it was a lovely sleep.”

“Okay.”

She put him to sleep and lowered his head to the ground. He was smiling in his sleep and she quickly adjusted the memories she had found, smoothing out the patterns and spikes. Dreams from his sleep would take their place.

Winter stood up and took one of the syringes from the pouch on her hip. Sebastian and the few who knew of them thought they were her secret wonder drug, her personal weapon that knocked people cold and left them with no memory of events afterwards. This, in part, enhanced Winter Manon Kennedy’s mighty reputation for breaking into the impossible-to-reach places, the unbreakable vaults, the unassailable locations.

If only they knew the truth. She grimaced and squirted the saline in the syringe onto her dress where the beading would hide the wet patch and put the syringe back in her pouch. The guard was snoring now, still smiling. Under the closed lids, his eyes were moving rapidly backwards and forward in deep REM.

One down, seven to go.

She paused to adjust her own arousal. It was always this way. Touching others, reaching inside them, especially combined with a job, gave her a rush. At first, she had resented that it was so. Now she learned to accept that life had shaped circumstances and her in such a way that this was how she was. She tamped down the arousal enough to ignore it and moved on.

Eight minutes and forty seconds later, seven of the eight guards were sleeping peacefully. She couldn’t find the eighth. He seemed to be eluding her. Finally, she rounded the corner of the last turn of the corridor, slowing down, her caution ratcheted up high. There was nowhere else the guard could be but somewhere in this last stubby wing of the corridor.

The corridor was empty. Winter didn’t relax as she slowly traversed the twenty yard long passage. There were doors all along the corridor. He had to be behind one of them. She just had to draw him out.

Winter inched down the long length of the corridor, until cold steel touched her bare back. “Stop right there.” The guard had the sing-song cadences of a native Singaporean and from the direction of his voice, he was short. Winter estimated he was shorter than her own five foot nine inches.

She backed up half a step.

“I said stop,” he repeated.

Winter wasn’t going to be able to reach him that way. She turned her head enough to sight him over her shoulder. He had his gun fully extended from his body. It didn’t matter. A finger was just as good a contact point for her as a chest or a face. She could reach into a body with her fingertip touching through thin cloth, like a business shirt, or the shirts the guards wore. But she had to be able to touch, at least. Contact was essential.

This one wasn’t going to let her get that close.

Except sometimes talking would get them to lower their guard enough.

“I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing here,” she began.

“Shut up,” he snapped.

“I got lost, you see—”

“I said, shut up!” he screamed.

Crap.

Suddenly, there was a sharp sound of snapping wood, muffled. The guard grunted and sighed. Winter twisted to see what had happened.

The guard was crumpling to the polished, gleaming floor. Sebastian stood over him, a broken broom handle in his hand, the inner core of the spruce handle showing startling white in the dull night lights of the corridor. The bristled end lay on the floor next to the slowly oozing guard.

Winter jumped forward to catch the guard before he hit the linoleum too hard. “Damn it, I told you before, no violence unless necessary!” She reached for the guard’s wrist, intending to soothe him, just as she had the others. She couldn’t send him to sleep until she had sent Sebastian away on a pretext.

“A gun at your back doesn’t make it necessary?” Sebastian replied. His tone was at once amazed and offended.

“No, it doesn’t,” she snapped, stepping around the guard to face him. “Damn it, how many times do we have to do this, Sebastian? You take care of your stuff. I take care of mine. I was handling it. I don’t need you to rescue me, take care of me, or watch out for me. It just trips me up and makes you dangerous. It screws up the job. Is that clear?”

His face hardened. “Clear as crystal,” he said flatly. He gaze flickered past her.

Eleven months later, dozens of recalls later, Winter still could not put together in her mind a visual sequence of what Sebastian did next. Only logic supplied her with what he must have actually done.

He must have seen the guard she had failed to put to sleep stir behind her and reach for the broken off broomstick. The guard picked up the jagged, pointed end and reared up behind Winter, who was stupidly facing Sebastian. The guard aimed the sharp end of the broomstick at her back.

Sebastian grabbed Winter’s shoulders and spun her out of the way, using a strength and speed she had never seen before. He moved so fast she couldn’t follow the movement with her naked eye.

He pulled her around, out of the way of the up-thrusting spike of the broomstick, which put him in front of it.

The sharp, broken-off end punched through his ribs and into the right ventricle of his heart. Sebastian gasped, his eyes widening.

The point of the stake pushed up against the front of his ribcage and Winter could feel the grinding of the point against his bones.

Through his grip on her shoulders Winter measured instant shock circle through him. Shock…and something else. For the first time in the nearly two years since Sebastian had strolled into her life she went inside his body.

She ripped her way in without thought, without care. She just wanted to stop the pain.

But there was none. His body was disintegrating like that of someone long dead.

“No!” Terrified, Winter threw herself into holding him together. To fixing it. She poured herself into reversing the damage.

And it hurt. She screamed.

“What are you doing?” Sebastian cried, his grip tightening.

Winter grasped at him, not sure who was holding who up. Like the guard, they both sank slowly to the floor. She couldn’t speak. Her focus, both mental and visual, was on the black, nameless processes inside him and bringing his body back to normal.

Her vision was clouded over, so she felt her way around Sebastian’s body to where the stake protruded, gripped it and drew it out slowly, repairing tissues and organs as it withdrew.

“Winter…” he breathed. “What are you?”

“Shhh…” There was such deadness in his body. Such damage. It wasn’t just the stake. She fixed the damage the stake had caused, then encompassed the rest. It was like trying to hug a black cloud. It eluded her at first. There was nothing to grip. Then she simply stepped inside it and…inhaled.

The agony tore through her like burning. She thought she screamed.

“Winter, what are you doing?” Sebastian was shaking her.

“Healing you…” she whispered. Or perhaps she just mouthed the words.

She inhaled and struggled and fought. She would not give up. Not Sebastian.

Then it was done. The cloud was gone. Sebastian’s heart beat normally. His systems were correct, proper, normal. Sweet and clean.

But Winter knew something was very wrong with her. There was no euphoria this time. She blinked, trying to bring her vision together and look at Sebastian.

He was staring at her. So was the guard.

She laid half-way across Sebastian’s chest, her hand on his neck.

“Your eyes,” Sebastian breathed.

“They’re fine now,” she said.

“They changed,” Sebastian told her flatly.

“Bring the guard here. I need to touch him,” she said urgently.

The guard started to scramble to his feet, but Sebastian snatched out his hand, grabbing the guard’s ankle and dragging him back within Winter’s reach. The guard kicked and struggled until Winter circled his ankle with her fingers. She sent him to sleep. It took effort to do it and made her feel sick. But he went limp and began to snore.

“Fuck…” Sebastian breathed.

Winter took a few breaths, then reached into the guard’s brain and wiped his recent memories. It took the last of her dwindling reserved.

Black sickness swamped her, making her giddy. She tried to quell the nausea, but it wouldn’t go away. “Something’s wrong,” she muttered.

“No kidding,” Sebastian replied, staring at the peacefully snoring guard.

“I can’t fix myself,” she gasped, clutching at her head. The darkness was looming larger within her, demanding and sucking at her. Pulsing. Blooming.

Sebastian cupped her face. His gaze was steady. “What do you need, Winter? It’s yours. Just name it.” So strong. So dependable.

She bit back the first truthful, harmful words that bubbled to her lips. Instead she settled for the practical. “Get me home, Sebastian.”

Then she surrendered to the blackness.

Chapter Three

Nathanial stared up through the big basement windows at the noon-day sun, which at Montana latitudes, was low overhead. He had been standing that way for a full ten minutes since she had finished relating how Sebastian and she had completed the Sumitomo job.

Now he turned back to face Winter again. “You didn’t take anything out of the vault,” he said.

Winter blinked. Of all the startling facts she had handed over, Nathanial chose to focus on the booty they had hauled or not hauled out of the bank?

“Why do you care what we took with us?” she asked.

“Verification,” he replied. “I was told the Sumitomo job was a raging success. You just told me another version that doesn’t seem to…match.”

“You don’t trust me. I’m wounded,” she said dryly. “What do you think happened? I did Sebastian in, drained him and now live off what’s left of his blood?”

Nathanial smiled. “Your blood fever was real enough. You wouldn’t limit your blood supply by killing the source. But there is a discrepancy here. You didn’t take anything from the vault.”

“No,” Winter said flatly. “The contract I accepted had a confidentiality clause, so let’s drop the subject.”

Nathanial’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t take anything. You put something in there.” He smiled. “The data centre. That’s why Sebastian went in. He’s the computer expert. Something…a trojan or a phishing module, or even a piece of hardware sitting unobtrusively on a server, sending data to the right people. That’s why the contract specified no one must suspect that a break-in happened. That’s why Salvomir passed up the two million dollar pay off—because he couldn’t figure out a way to do it. But you could, because you simply wiped the guards’ memories.”

“Sebastian re-looped the security recordings so that nothing showed there, either,” Winter added. She stood up. “I’m hungry. Do you mind if I eat?”

“Not at all. Do you mind if I follow you into your kitchen and keep talking?”

She sighed. “I suppose.”

He laughed. “You will not put me aside with so simple a human habit as eating. I’ve been watching humans eat for hundreds of years. It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

“Sebastian said it did,” Winter told him as she climbed the stairs to the main floor.

He followed her, his steps quieter than hers, but didn’t speak until they were both in her big country kitchen with its copper pots hanging overhead and gleaming black granite counters. The wood blinds that ran the width of kitchen were all thrown open to the morning sun and the mountain view.

Nathanial was frowning. “The facts Sebastian has chosen to give you about me seem to be all negatives.”

“Yes,” Winter agreed, pulling out a Kaiser roll, ham, cheese and fixings for a hearty sandwich. She looked up when Nathanial remind silent. “You’re not going to ask why?”

His smile was sour. “I’m not a stupid man.”

Winter felt a spurt of guilt spear her. She had been willing to believe everything Sebastian had warned her about Nathanial, without waiting to see for herself if it was true. Had Sebastian been the one manipulating her, not Nathanial, as Sebastian had warned her?

She bit her lip, hesitating. Then she decided to err on the side of truth. Just this once. “He still loves you, you know. He would not be so bitter if he did not.”

Nathanial’s clear eyed gaze was direct and unwavering. “And thus I search him out when he patently has no wish to see me. I am…concerned.”

“Concerned?” Winter just stared at him.

He blew out a breath. “Worried, Winter. Does that satisfy you?”

She nodded and bit into her sandwich, suddenly ravenous.

“At least sit down while you eat,” Nathanial pleaded. “It is uncivilized, standing so.”

She grinned at him. “I was lucky to eat at all when I was a teenager, let alone at a table.” But she put the sandwich on a plate and carried it over to the table and sat down, anyway.

Nathanial surprised her by sitting opposite her at the table. He threaded his fingers together again.

“You made Sebastian human again,” he said.

She swallowed her mouthful, taking her time. Nathanial just watched her.

When she could put off speaking no longer, she said carefully, “He has spoken to you at least once since Singapore. He didn’t tell you that himself?”

“As you might expect, communications between Sebastian and I have been somewhat strained for the last few years. We deal with necessary subjects only. A matter like that he would not deal with on the phone. I believe he was going to tell me about it when we met this week. He hinted that there was something large he wanted to talk about.” He unlinked his fingers and threaded them again. It was an impatient movement. “You remade him. You took away his vampirism and returned him to his human state.”

She put down her sandwich. “He never told me he was a vampire.” Suddenly her rage was there. Huge and towering. She pushed back her chair and shot to her feet. “Two fucking years, Nathanial! Two whole damn years and he never said a word! Not one! We were virtually joined at the hip, working jobs, sometimes two a week. We were sandwiched together through some of the tightest places, the toughest spots, the hairiest scrapes…and he didn’t say anything.” She thumped her hip with her fist. “Damn him!”

“Some say we’re already damned,” Nathanial replied coolly, sitting back in his chair. “So you’re too late to send him to Hell.”

She hissed impatiently. “Of course I made him human,” she shot back, answering his earlier question. “I didn’t know what was wrong with him! He had a bloody great stake in his heart and he was dying. So I dived in and fixed everything. How was I to know that the dark stuff, the dead part of him…that it was supposed to be like that? He didn’t tell me!”

Nathanial leaned forward. “In the two years you and Sebastian worked together did you ever tell Sebastian you can control other people’s biologies just by touching them? That your miracle serum is a fake? That you cover up your talent with razzamatazz and misdirection, just like a good con man does?”

Winter’s anger chilled. She stared at Nathanial. Then, with a sigh, she slid back onto her chair. “Sebastian found out in Singapore, and I told you, just now.”

“So that would be ‘no’.” Nathanial spread his hands flat on the table. “If you’ve never told a soul, not even Sebastian, why did you tell me?”

“I don’t know.” She frowned. “Sebastian warned me you could be like this.”

A tiny line appeared between his brows. “Like what?”

She bit her lip. “Squeeze information out of people they desperately don’t want to let go of.”

The line between his brows deepened. “He exaggerates. I had a small natural ability to charm people that I honed over the years and apply now and again when I need to. I haven’t attempted to draw anything from you since I stepped inside that edifice of yours and found you there.”

Winter gave a small, dry laugh. “Of course you haven’t.”

Nathanial smiled. “I could if I wanted too, of course. Especially now I have you keyed. As a rule, though, I don’t do that with people unless it’s for a job.”

“Right,” she said flatly. She believed that like she believed in the Tooth Fairy.

Nathanial didn’t move. “You don’t believe me. Sebastian will have indoctrinated you, of course. Perhaps that will work in my favor for a moment.”

She stared at him. “You’ve lost me,” she confessed. “What are you talking about?”

He studied her. “A demonstration. I will show you how I go about drawing something out of you if I was really interested in taking information from you against your will, just to prove that I am not working my wiles against you right now. Would that relax you and let down your guard?”

“Doesn’t telling me what you’re about to do work against you? If I know what you’re going to do, I can see it coming and be prepared.”

“It doesn’t matter if you know or not,” Nathanial said indifferently. “I have you registered now. I know your vulnerabilities and weaknesses.”

She shivered. “So whether I put up a fight or not, you can get past my resistance and open me up? Jesus…” She licked her lips. “Well, your arrogance is top notch, even if you aren’t.”

“I’ve never failed a contract,” Nathanial said.

Winter swallowed. Her heart was beginning to race, so she evened it out and slowed it down, flooding her system with endorphins. She calmed, relaxed. Then she smiled at Nathanial. “I’ve never lost a contract, either,” she told him.

Nathanial’s smile equaled hers. “Is that a challenge?” He rose to his feet in a light, sinuous movement.

“Yes. I mean no,” Winter said quickly. Her pulse jumped. “Sit down,” she snapped, smoothing out her pulse again.

He sat, keep his gaze on her face. He smiled. “Your gaze keeps turning inwards. Are you using your talent on yourself? Calming yourself, perhaps?”

She drew in a long, slow breath. “That’s none of your business.”

He inclined his head. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” The long fingers threaded together. “Your eyes…do you know how exactly they match Sebastian’s?”

Winter couldn’t keep looking at him. She found herself studying the wood grain of the tabletop.

“The same changeable green. The same astonishing light and beauty,” Nathanial continued, as if she were still looking at him. He paused. “It isn’t a coincidence, is it?”

She still couldn’t bring herself to look at him. It killed her to simply shake her head.

“When you healed the staking and made him human…your eyes changed then, didn’t they?” Nathanial said softly. “You took on part of him. His eyes, a need for his blood.”

Winter poured calming chemicals into her system, struggling for peace. Nathanial was stirring hard memories and panic in her. The stew of biological waste she was producing as a result was making her almost sick in reaction.

His hand curled under her arm, lifting her from the chair and Winter gasped. She had been so focused on her internal systems, she hadn’t noticed Nathanial move to her side. He tugged her gently to her feet. “Shhh…” he said as she opened her mouth to protest. “I just want to look at your eyes in the better light.” He led her closer to the windows with their glowing polished wood blinds and turned her so the light fell upon her face.

At five foot nine, she was tall for a woman, but Nathanial was much taller. He tilted her chin up so he could study her eyes and she tried not to look away.

He brought a hand up to her temple and his fingertips ran through a lock from roots to ends, all two feet of it. “Glorious red, and not from a salon. Sebastian did tell me you were a brunette. More of your talent, Winter?”

She nodded fractionally. “The black didn’t…well it didn’t go with my eyes anymore. I wanted to…” She drew in a breath.

“You had changed profoundly on the inside, so you marked the change on the outside,” Nathanial said.

She licked her lips. That was it exactly. “The old me was gone,” she said.

But Nathanial was still stroking her hair, his gaze on her face. Abruptly, she was aware of just how close he was standing to her. There was barely a hand span of space between them.

She wanted to step back, but almost like he read her mind, his other hand slid over the back of her hip, holding her there.

“I never could resist eyes like yours,” Nathanial said softly.

A ripple passed through her. It seemed to switch on all her nerves, making her body hypersensitive. “What the hell—”

He touched a finger to her lips and it stopped her protest as completely as if he had clapped a hand over her mouth. She sucked in a breath and it shuddered on the way down.

“Stop analyzing yourself,” Nathanial told her. His voice seemed to reverberate in her mind. “Stop looking inside you. Just feel instead, like a normal human.”

She shook her head.

He leaned closer to her, his lips almost brushing her cheekbone. “You’ve been responding to me since you saw me, but you’ve been denying it and ignoring the signals. All because Sebastian has convinced you I’m such an evil man.”

“You’re not a man,” Winter breathed.

His lips brushed over her skin. “I am man enough I can bring a scream to your lips, sweat to your brow and have you trembling in my arms, begging for a release in a voice you will not recognize as your own. Do you doubt that, Winter?” His hand on her hip moved in a restless little movement against her ass, stroking her through her jeans.

Her heart was pounding, hard enough to echo in her temple. Under her tee-shirt, her breasts were aching for his touch, but Winter struggled to admit that.

“Sebastian was human once and now you’ve made him a man again. He has his weaknesses, just as we all do,” Nathanial told her. His lips hovered over her pounding temple. “I’m one of those weaknesses. He has seen me only as a negative in his life for years now. That is the picture he painted for you.” His lips slipped down to her mouth, brushing over her skin in barely-there caresses, to hover over her lips in an achingly-close not-quite-kiss. All Winter had to do was lift her chin the tiniest fraction of an inch and she could take the kiss for herself. She found she was holding her breath. Waiting. Hoping.

“You want me,” Nathanial said. It wasn’t a question.

But Winter found herself answering anyway and replying with the truth. Her “Yes,” emerged breathless from her lips to his.

His lips pressed against hers with the softest of touches. It was barely a kiss and Winter strained for more intimate contact. He lifted his lips from hers, just far enough to look into her eyes once more. “You wanted Sebastian, all the time you were together. Instead you watched him bed all those men and women and let jealousy be your bed partner. You hungered for him, didn’t you? You wanted him as you have wanted no man in your life before.” His tongue stroked her upper lip. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” she breathed, her body trembling at his touch.

He kissed her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, making her moan. Then he stepped away from her, his hands falling to his sides.

“Thank you,” he said. “Is that enough of a demonstration, Winter?”

For a blank moment Winter’s mind tottered. Then fury swept through her. “You were conning me?”

“You agreed to the demonstration,” he reminded her. “You were warned about what I was doing. That is more than the average mark is told, yet I still got the information I wanted.” He shrugged. It was a small, elegant lift of his shoulders and seemed almost apologetic. “I did warn you,” he repeated.

She closed her eyes, humiliation and cold sense at war inside her. This was what her marks felt like if ever they found out they’d been had.

“If it is of any comfort, Winter, I always hew close to the truth. There are consequences for both sides when I play a mark.”

She opened her eyes to look at him. Nathanial glanced down at the front of his trousers, drawing her gaze to the swollen erect mass there.

Winter could feel her cheeks burning, even though she was hardly a blushing virgin type.

“One of my weaknesses is redheads,” Nathanial added. “Especially stubborn, intelligent, independent, feisty redheads.”

Her whole body seemed to tighten and pulse. Winter covered up her reaction by turning away and heading for the sink for a glass of water, but her hand was trembling, so she changed her mind and leaned against the counter, her arms crossed. It left five feet of space between them. Good.

Nathanial stayed by the windows. “Tell me why you didn’t look inside Sebastian until you had to save his life.”

Winter could feel her mouth opening as her jaw dropped. She stared at him, trying to gather her thoughts. “Because I just wouldn’t. That wouldn’t be…” She had never had to explain this to anyone before and couldn’t find the words. “Proper,” she finished inadequately.

“It would be unprofessional,” Nathanial added.

“Yes,” she agreed. “That, too.”

Nathanial smiled a little. “You must have given Sebastian merry hell these last two years. You’re like me in many ways.”

Winter could feel her mouth turn down. “I’m nothing like you. We have nothing in common.”

“We have Sebastian in common,” he said coolly.

“We don’t have him,” she spat. “You had him and you lost him. I never had him the way you did. He was just a business partner, and now he’s not even that.”

“He’s something more than that now.” He moved toward her. “Why do you need his blood every month or so? Why are you not working together anymore? What happened after Singapore?”

She pushed her hand through her hair with a frustrated sigh. “I suppose, if I don’t answer you in full, you’ll have it out of me one way or another, right?”

Nathanial smiled. It was a full, cheerful grin. “You’re starting to learn.” He cocked his head. “Although if you want to be stubborn, I’m more than happy to…coax the information out of you.” He swayed towards her, his blue eyes full of sudden heat that had little to do with the teasing tone of his voice.

Winter slid along the edge of the counter, out of his way, even as her heart thudded at his nearness. “I’ll cooperate,” she assured him.

Nathanial straightened up. “Ah well,” he sighed. “Tell me about Singapore, then. What happened after?”

Winter sighed. “Who was the idiot that said ‘The truth shall set you free’? I’d like to kill the bastard if he isn’t already dead. All the truth did for Sebastian and me was slaughter everything we had. Two of the best years of my life. Gone. Just like that. Because the truth came out.”

Chapter Four

New York City, New York. About nine months ago.

The first she knew that anything was wrong was when she gradually became aware of Sebastian calling her name and a hand patting her cheek.

The tapping was annoying and she tried to turn her face away from it. When she didn’t have the strength to do that much, she roused enough to wonder why and realized that things were not right. Something was happening.

She began to pick up external cues. The sound of distant traffic. She must be in her apartment in New York, then. It was early summer and warm in the apartment. But she was covered in a blanket.

She was shivering. She was cold. Colder than January.

“Winter! Open your eyes!” It was Sebastian again and he sounded worried. Again, the tap on the cheek. It was his hand. She would know his scent anywhere—

She snapped her eyes open. How could she know his aroma so well? And from just his hand?

Sebastian was leaning over her, the thick locks of his hair falling forward as always. Relief actually showed on his face. Hovering over his shoulder stood Jackson, her doorman.

Jackson smiled. “That’s the ticket. I’ll call an ambulance.”

“No!” Sebastian shot back. “I’ll take care of her. I know how to treat her.”

Jackson’s smile faded. “You’re sure, Mr. Worthington?”

“You called me first, didn’t you, Jackson? You know I know Winter well. I can take care of this.” He pulled a billfold from his inner pocket and unclipped a couple of notes. “She’ll get eaten up in the system.”

Jackson waved away the money. “I get paid well, Mr. Worthington.”

Sebastian took Jackson’s wrist and laid the notes on his palm. “This is a thank you for calling me in the first place. Your instincts were right, Jackson. You did well.”

Jackson nodded. “I like Ms. Winter,” he said simply.

“I’ll make sure she stays one of your favorite tenants, then.”

Jackson touched his forehead and left the apartment.

Sebastian turned back to Winter. She was lying on the floor, she realized. Next to the fireplace, right out in the middle of the room. She couldn’t put together what she had been doing to end up here. What day was it? What time? How long had she been lying here? Fright touched her.

“What am I doing here, Sebastian?” she asked. Even her voice was pathetically weak.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “But we have to presume it is something to do with Singapore as that was just under four weeks ago.” He picked her up. “I’ll put you on your bed. It’ll be more comfortable than the floor. Then, if you can manage it, you need to analyze yourself.”

She tried to put her arms around his neck, but was too weak even for that. Sebastian was warm against her cold body and she sighed in contentment as he carried her through to her bedroom. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Don’t thank me,” he said roughly. “I’m the one that put you in this position, remember?” He lowered her to the bed, bending to place her gently on the covers. “Damn, you’re colder than an ice cube, Winter.”

He was bowed over her, lifting his hands away from her. It was summer, so he wore his usual jeans and a collarless dress shirt in a cotton fabric so soft and old it begged to be touched. The sleeves were rolled up. The shirt exposed his neck to her and Winter could focus on nothing but the tender flesh running from his ear to his shoulder. She could trace the path his carotid would take. It seemed she could even hear his heart beat in her mind.

She reached for his arm, her strength suddenly enough for that. It was only a few inches, after all.

He froze, his chin turning so that his green eyed gaze could take her in.

Her heart was running far too hard. Dangerously fast. Winter cupped Sebastian’s face and smoothed her fingers into his hair. In the profound silence that gripped the bedroom, she heard his tiny gasp.

She found a strength she didn’t know she possessed to bring herself up off the pillows he’d laid her upon. She brought her mouth closer to his hot flesh. She craved to taste it. To…

“Winter,” he breathed, holding himself motionless.

She laid her lips against him.

He shuddered.

Driven by something she didn’t understand, something too powerful to argue with, she opened her mouth and sank her teeth into his neck.

“Bloody hell!” Sebastian gasped. He wrenched her away from him and staggered back, exploring his neck with his fingertips, then checking his fingers for blood. He stared at her. “Winter!” He said her name as if he were appalled.

But she was too busy trying to deal with sudden and overwhelming hunger pangs. Pangs that were more like cramps. They were making her writhe on the bed in agony.

Sebastian moved closer, watching her. “Jesus wept…” he said after a moment. “I don’t believe it.” He climbed onto the bed next to her. “Let me see your teeth, Winter.”

“What?” she gasped, holding her stomach.

“I need to know if you can pierce my skin or if I have to do that for you.”

She tried to curl into a ball as the cramps hit her again, moaning.

Sebastian cursed softly. She felt his fingers on her mouth.  One slid gently under her upper lip. “Nothing,” he said. “You’re quite human. But you need to feed and I don’t have canines anymore.”

The mattress shifted and light glared as he entered her bathroom. Then he was back. She heard him give a soft hiss of pain. “Quickly, Winter. Here.”

His fingers touched her lips. This time they smelled differently. She turned her head, alerted by the aroma. The rich promise.

“Drink,” he crooned as drops fell onto her tongue.

Winter swallowed and felt the spread of warmth and energy from the few little drops. Eagerly, she sought more, and more flowed into her mouth. Thick and sweet as honey. She swallowed.

Warmth seemed to spread through her body as the liquid made its way down to her stomach.

“That’s it,” Sebastian told her, his tone approving. A hand slid under her head, supporting her. “Now, can you put your lips on my wrist?”

The first faint alarm filtered through her haze of enjoyment, but the strength she was drawing from the liquid overrode her intellectual objections. In the back of her mind she put together the truth. Sebastian’s wrist. His hiss of pain. Canines. Teeth. Fangs.

Blood. She was drinking blood. Sebastian’s blood. Hot blood.

It tasted nothing like blood. It tasted ambrosial. The finest wines had nothing on this. The heat and energy it was generating in her was like the strongest energy drink in the world—industrial strength power heading straight into her veins. She could feel her body responding and could measure its restoration for herself.

She gripped his wrist and pressed her lips against the wound she knew she would find there. With the slightest of hesitations, knowing full well what she was doing, she made herself draw blood into her mouth.

The flood of hot liquid was like a mouthful of the most delicious mulled wine, made with a gourmet bouquet of herbs and spices. She moaned, forgetting what it was she was drinking. She sucked, drawing more and more into her mouth, feeding greedily.

“I said enough, Winter!” Sebastian tore his wrist away from her mouth. His tone implied it wasn’t the first time he had spoken.

Appalled, Winter let go of Sebastian’s wrist and rolled away, curling into a tight ball and hiding her face.

She felt the bed move then heard the sound of running water in the bathroom. Then, even worse, the sound of tape being torn off a roll. Sebastian was staunching the wound on his wrist.

Then his hands tugged at her shoulders. “Look at me,” he said.

Because his tone was gentle enough, Winter let her arm drop so that she could peer at him with one eye.

Sebastian eased himself onto the other side of the bed so that his face was level with hers. “You’re not embarrassed, are you?”

“More like sickened.”

“Honestly, Winter? That’s how you really feel?” He brushed her hair off her face as if he were trying to see it properly to judge for himself. The gauze on his wrist was very white in the low light filtering through the curtains. It had to be late afternoon for the light to be so dim.

“Or is the sick feeling something you think you should feel so your intellect is trying to make you feel that way?” Sebastian ask her.

Winter considered that for a moment.

“You’re no longer ill,” Sebastian pointed out. “You look…well, marvelous,” he admitted. “Glowing. Just like one of us after we’ve fed.”

She jumped a little and he rested his hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright,” he told her. “I don’t think this means you’re becoming a vampire. If you were, it would have happened already.”

Winter let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes. The fear she hadn’t been aware of holding evaporated. “Mother Mary above!”

Sebastian laughed, a soft low sound. “Now you feel better, hmmm?”

“Yes!” She opened her eyes again. “You’re right. I just thought I should feel wrong about it. It is disgusting. But so is sex, if you just look at the basic mechanics.” She picked up his wrist, the one with the gauze and tape, and stroked the flesh just outside the tape. “It’s the everything else about sex that makes it so great.”

“What are you doing?”

“Can’t you tell?”

“My wrist is tingling.”

“Mmm…” She picked at the edges of the tape, then ripped it away. The wound underneath was a fine pink line, healed over.

She stroked it with her fingertip, healing it further, until the line blended in with the rest of his flesh, leaving no sign of the wound at all.

Sebastian turned his wrist to different angles, examining it. “I used to be able to heal myself faster than that,” he said clinically, although Winter could tell that he was pleased.

“I could have done it faster,” she admitted. “But it would have hurt rather than just tingled, and I wanted to show off.”

“Why hurt?”

“You’re human now. What I did was speed up your metabolism in that one little area so the wound healed naturally dozens of times faster than the rest of your body aged. The tingling was the area where the metabolism differences met. The bigger the differences, the more discomfort you feel. When you healed yourself as a vampire, I suspect there were supernatural powers involved, so there was no discomfort at all.”

“No discomfort, no.” He lifted her chin. “And why show off?”

She tried to smile. “You’re the only person on this planet that knows what I can do.”

He blinked. “No one else knows?”

She shook her head.

He sat up. “Well, that explains it a little bit.”

“Explains what?”

“Nothing. Well, something for later, anyway. You need rest.”

But she didn’t need rest at all. She stretched out on the bed. She felt marvelous. Glowing, like Sebastian said, and sexy. Heated. Feral, almost. She rested her hand on Sebastian’s back. “You’re not going to rush off, are you?” she asked.

He grew still. Just his head turned to look at her. Through her touch, she could feel the spike and leap of his heart. The flood of adrenaline. Excitement, she guessed. Hope, perhaps. But his face was like marble. “Lonely, Winter? Run out of blind dates and studs? You?”

The need to have him inside her, to be consumed by sex, was beating at her, a tattoo in her brain, threatening to steal her concentration. Through her hand on his back, she pushed some of it into Sebastian, just to give herself a chance to think.

He gasped and shuddered. “Winter…” She watched his pupils dilate. He turned to her in a movement almost too quick to follow, reminding her that not so long ago he had been a vampire. His lips and his body pressed against hers and Winter sighed. He was as perfect as she had always imagined. Hot and hard and eager.

His hand slid under her hip and held her against him, so that she could feel his pelvis and his hard, erect cock pushing against her abdomen.

Sebastian thrust his tongue into her mouth with a hungry moan. He rimmed her lips before thrusting again, a mini-promise of what was to come.

The pulsing need was threatening to drown her again, so Winter pushed more of it into Sebastian. She wanted to be aware of every moment.

He groaned, arching against her. His pelvis ground into her with good, hard pressure as he reacted to the need she was feeding into him.

His fingers scrabbled at the buttons on her shirt. Then he simply ripped it open. She heard the little disks land softly on the hardwood floor across the room. Sebastian cupped her breasts in their lace bra with trembling hands. “I want this too much,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I have no finesse left to spare this time.”

Confusion touched her. He wanted this? Or was she making him want this? Had Sebastian wanted her to begin with? She would never know now because if she asked, she would have to reveal what she had done.

Guilt speared her.

Sebastian looked up at her face. His expression hardened and he reared up and onto the other side of the bed, so that he wasn’t touching her. “No!” He took a breath, and another. “You were…you made me do that, didn’t you? When you touched my back.” He wrapped his arms around his middle, like he was suddenly cold. “I should have remembered what it was like straight after I fed, when I was younger. The need for sex.” He grimaced. “Jesus.” He looked away.

She sat up. “It wasn’t quite like that,” she said.

“You didn’t do anything to me at all, then?” he shot back.

When she didn’t reply, he climbed off the bed. Fury radiated from every stiff angle of him. “You could have talked me into it, Winter. Just you. Seduction works, you know. Manipulating me doesn’t. Fuck!”

She scrambled off the bed to follow him and almost ran into him when he turned to face her again.

“Two years I spent talking about Nial and his ways. About how he pushes people around and uses them. About why I left him. Didn’t you learn anything from that at all?”

“I didn’t mean to do it.”

“It just slipped out or something?” he said caustically.

“Yes.”

He rolled his eyes. “Will you at least close your shirt?” He turned and stalked into the main room.

She tied her shirt closed and hurried after him. “I’m sorry, Sebastian.”

“No, you’re not.” He said it flatly. “You’re just like Nial. You’re only sorry you got caught.”

“Damn it, that’s not fair. You’re angry and you want to punish me, fine. But that’s over and above.”

He pushed his hands into his jeans pockets. “You’re a thief, Winter. Your whole life is defined by secrecy. Getting caught is just a job hazard for you, one that you’ve got pre-built responses for.”

It hurt more than she thought it would, because the accusation was coming from Sebastian, of all people.

“You’re a thief, too,” she reminded him.

“I didn’t get a choice,” he said bleakly.

“You think I did?” she cried. “You think I sat in junior high dreaming about growing up and breaking into bank vaults?”

“So you were in Serbia during the war and had to steal to survive. My father was a belted English earl, Winter, and I slept on ermine and silk until he learned I was a bastard. Then I got tossed from the family at thirteen to fend myself and my mother with me. Ireland was a hard land in which to be penniless back then. My mother lasted six months. I survived because a con man took a fancy to me.” He shrugged, his face hard. “We are all a product of our times.”

“And you’re as secretive as me,” Winter accused. “You lied about the dating thing. You just didn’t want me finding out you were a vampire. You never had any intention of telling me, did you?”

He hesitated. “Not at first.”

“At first?” she repeated. “Then when? When I tripped over your victims? We were two years working together. How long were you going to leave it?”

Sebastian’s hands curled into fists in his pockets. “Vampires have been necessarily secret for millennia. It’s not that simple. Every extra person who is aware—”

“Bullshit,” she shot back. “You’re just hiding behind that as a shield. What is the real reason why you wouldn’t tell me, Sebastian?”

“You’re a fine one to talk! You never said a word about your talent for adjusting people’s biologies and that directly affected our work!” He yanked his hands out of his pockets. “All that crud about serums and hypnosis and blather about domination. You didn’t trust me enough to just tell me the truth. You had to get me out of the way with stupid excuses and nonsense for two fucking years, so you could simply put guards to sleep. So you haven’t told a single soul about your talent before. Why couldn’t you tell me?”

Winter tried to find an honest answer in the face of his fury. “I suppose…I felt I didn’t know you well enough.”

He made a sound that was something like a half-laugh, but it was skewed by an emotion she couldn’t name. “You can strip down in front of me for a job without blushing but you don’t feel you know me well enough. Brilliant.” He shook his head. “That’s just…the best news I’ve had all day.” He crossed to the apartment door, his long legs moving in easy strides. “Don’t call me, Winter,” he said at the door. “My new blood pressure can’t take the challenge.”

Chapter Five

“I did see him once more, about a month later,” Winter added, stirring her coffee. “Neither of us had realized that the feedings would be an almost monthly thing. So, about four weeks later when I felt the beginnings of new symptoms, I realized what was happening and called Sebastian.”

Nathanial’s mouth lifted at one corner. “That must have been a fun phone call for you to make.” He was sitting across the table from her again.

She stuck her tongue out at him and added a touch more cream to her coffee. “He didn’t believe me, of course. So I suggested he simply drain off his blood and send it to me, instead, as I had no more wish to see him than he had to see me. That was enough to get him to the apartment, where he confirmed my symptoms for himself and let me feed. Then he left. Like clockwork, his blood has been arriving on my doorstep ever since.”

“Until six weeks ago.”

She nodded and tapped the spoon to the side of her cup. She went to put it on the table, but Nathanial’s hand was suddenly on her wrist. “May I?” he asked, almost diffidently.

“Do what?”

“Have the spoon?”

“Uh…sure.”

He took the spoon from her hand and licked the bowl. His eyes closed as he savored the taste. Then he put the spoon his mouth and sucked it clean, a blissful expression briefly crossing his features.

“Ahh…coffee. I wish I had been mortal when coffee reached western civilization. It smells heavenly and the few drops I get to steal confirm it is worth the addiction. Even adulterated with cream.”

She realized then that Nathanial didn’t not like humans eating. He liked it too much. It would be for him like an alcoholic watching others drinking and being unable to join in.

She studied Nathanial’s cold visage and wondered how much of the controlled mask she could believe. He was a con man. There would be layers upon shields upon lies. Even this little glimpse could be false, designed precisely to appeal to her.

Nathanial saw her watching him and put down the spoon, straightening up. “We need to find Sebastian.”

“We? If I come near him, he’ll blow a gasket.”

He shook his head. “It must be both of us. I am concerned, yes. But you must also come with me, because I suspect he needs you.”

“Me?”

“This relationship, this symbiosis you have formed. Don’t you remember your high school biology?”

“I never went to high school,” Winter replied. “I was too busy ducking Croatian bombs or stealing my next meal. Most human biology I just…know.”

“You have to keep up with the frontiers of human knowledge,” Nathanial said, threading his fingers together. “Sometimes it feels like a full time occupation,” he added. “But you have the luxury of time, which many humans do not.” He shrugged. “A symbiotic pair thrives because each supplies the other with something essential. Sebastian is providing you with his blood. What are you giving him? More to the point, what have you failed to provide him these last eight months? Is that the reason he is missing now?”

Winter realized that she was sitting with her coffee cup halfway between the table and her mouth. She dumped the cup down. “Mother Mary above!” She clutched at her chest. “Why didn’t you say this twenty minutes ago?”

“You would have kicked me out the door twenty minutes ago,” Nathanial said simply. “Sebastian had you ready to shoot me first and ask question later. I had to get you to the point where you trusted me enough to understand how dire this could be for Sebastian. I had to get you past your anger at Sebastian.”

She nodded. “I get it, Nathanial. I get it. I’m still pissed as hell at Sebastian but I don’t want him to die. What do we do?” She stood up. “And for the record, I resent being manipulated as much as Sebastian does.”

Nathanial stood up, too. “No, you don’t. You do not yet know even when I’m doing it.”

Quenched, she gripped her elbows. “Right,” she agreed softly. “Well, your arrogance is at least truthful.”

He grinned. “Go and pack a bag. Summer and…well, winter clothes.” His smile returned briefly. “I wonder, is your birthday December twenty-first?”

She pursed her lips. “I guess someone as old as you would see the connection to the winter solstice and my name.”

“Time was, I drank wine and danced around standing stones, calling to the goddess in thanks for the crops and the women’s bellies on the solstice,” Nathanial murmured. “Aye, I remember well enough.” His inward gaze cleared. “Bring as many passports as you can. I’m not sure where we’ll end up travelling. There’s a midnight flight to Heathrow from LAX. I have a Lear at Helena airport. We should be able to make it. On the way to Heathrow, we can figure out where to look next. I’ve exhausted New York.”

* * * * *

Forty minutes out of Los Angeles in the private Lear jet Nathanial had rented to come find her, between the two of them they had settled upon a first, most likely destination to look for Sebastian.

The most unlikely one.

“He can withstand the full sun now,” Nathanial pointed out. “He’ll use that fact.”

“Somewhere near the equator?” Winter shook her head. “He loved the sun but he hated humidity.”

Nathanial rubbed his jaw. “He always had a pet fantasy on the go, somewhere where he wanted to lie in the sun and pretend he was human. If he mentioned it to you at all he would have modified it. Somewhere he wanted to have a good long vacation, or retire to.” Nathanial looked at her, his head tilting.

Winter thought back through the numerous conversations Sebastian and she had idled through on soft, mellow nights while waiting for jobs to begin, or contacts to arrive, or the many various times when they had been simply together for whatever reason. There had been so many occasions and until this moment she hadn’t realize how well she and Sebastian had got along. Winter had always thought they chaffed each other and at times they did, but when they were working, they fit together like two micro-engineered and oiled pieces of chromed and nickel-plated gadgetry.

“Moskva,” she murmured, remembering.

“Moscow?” Nathanial repeated in English, sounding startled. “That’s…not the sand and surf getaway I would have thought—”

“No, that’s where he mentioned it. We were standing around on Borodinsky Bridge in the middle of winter close to midnight waiting for a contact and it was freezing, ten degrees or less, and everything was white—even the concrete was white. Sebastian started talking about Ningaloo Reef off the Western Australian coast. How blue the water is and how warm the Indian Ocean is, and the sand is as white as everything was there that night. He said that if he ever wanted to get away from everything, that’s where he was going to go because it was the world’s best kept secret. The reef was bigger than the Great Barrier Reef and had more fish and better diving and no one seemed to know it existed.” She looked at Nathanial. “He never mentioned it again.”

Nathanial nodded. “He won’t have forgotten though. We can’t, you know.”

“He can, now,” she reminded him.

Nathanial reached past her for the cabin phone. “There will be a police station there or an outpost. They’ll be able to confirm if he’s there if I speak to them nicely. I’ll phone ahead for tickets, too. We’ll need a commercial flight. The Lear will take too long.”

Winter pressed herself back in the luxurious leather chair, drawing in her breath at his sudden nearness. Nathanial froze, his arm outstretched, and looked at her. “You haven’t forgiven me for my demonstration, have you?”

“Of course,” she said smoothly. “We’re both professionals. I understood exactly the point you were trying to make, Nathanial.”

“Then why don’t you call me Nial?” he suggested. “We’re going to be in close quarters for the next few days at least. Four syllables for a first name became passé ninety years ago. These days people barely have time to use two.”

He still hadn’t moved, although his arm had lowered. He was so close she could count the black lashes around his eyes.

“I will if you move away from me,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. She succeeded. Just.

Nathanial picked up the phone and sat back in his chair. “You’re defensive. It’s either because of what I am or who I am.”

“Or both,” she suggested sweetly.

He smiled. “I should be so lucky,” he said as he dialed. “But I had you in my arms and melting at least once.” He lifted the phone to his ear. “I’ll give you another warning, my red-headed companion. I want you there again. This time brought there by nothing other than my presence and my body and your need to have me.” His gaze locked with hers.

Something rolled over deep in her belly and began to pulse.

“No strong arm tactics. No artifice.” His voice was deeper and seemed to caress her entire body. “You know most of the tricks and I tire of the game as you do. So just you and me. A man and a woman.”

“But you’re not a man,” she pointed out.

“If you’re about to object to the blood drinking, think of what you do once a month, then rephrase your objection.” He pressed another button on the phone. “Perhaps Spanish will be faster.” Then his gaze returned to her. “Yes, I have lived much longer than you. What of it, Winter?”

“You’re not human.”

“Not exactly human. Not anymore. But Sebastian was human enough to pass, was he not? We have been mingling as human throughout history, undetected.” He smiled and it was hot with promise, so that Winter shivered. “The differences, where it counts, are vast, Winter. We’ve had so much more time to learn and improve, after all.”

Then his gaze became unfocused. “Buonas noches,” he said into the phone, then began a rapid conversation in, as far as Winter could tell, flawless Spanish as he asked about flights to Australia.

Winter fought the need to shift in her chair, to hug herself, or in any way show how deeply Nathanial’s words had affected her. She turned her head to watch the spectacular sunset through the small window, instead.

Nathanial wasn’t anything like Sebastian had warned her he would be like. That was the problem. Oh, he was exactly like she had expected—controlling, a master at measuring and manipulating people—but at the same time not at all the Boris Karloff-style monster she had been braced to expect that she would one day meet.

“Winter.”

She turned her head to look at him. Nathanial was holding the phone out to her.

“What, you’re going to pass up the opportunity to get my attention with a heavy hand to my shoulder and then reach past me and brush my chest? I thought you were good, Nathanial?”

He gripped the corners of her chair and turned it so she was facing him square-on. “No heavy-handed tactics, remember?” His mesmerizing eyes drilled into her, as if he were trying pour the message into her brain via his gaze. “Besides, that’s clichéd and predictable. If I were going to attempt something so ham-fisted I would have pulled you into my chair twenty minutes ago, brought you to your first climax ten minutes ago and had you begging for release again five minutes after that. All without removing a stitch of my own clothing.”

This time she couldn’t hide her indrawn breath. It shuddered as it went down.

Nathanial sat up, a tiny line between his brows. “Enough,” he said shortly. “You keep bringing me to these crude promises.” He held out the phone again. “There’s a United Emerites flight leaving at eleven. It stops at Hong Kong, then straight through to Perth, Western Australia.”

Winter scrambled to assimilate the dry, practical switch of topic. “I see,” she said, but her voice was thick with her arousal.

Nathanial’s eyes narrowed. “You liked that idea, didn’t you?”

She shook her head as she returned the phone to the wall mount. “The idea of being seduced by your professional array of strategies and schemes leaves me utterly cold.”

“But my offer of an honest seduction…?”

“Yes,” she breathed, as her body jumped and throbbed.

Nathanial’s position on the chair didn’t move, but she could feel his rising arousal, almost like an aura around him. It was in the tension that seemed to zap through him. The stillness that gripped him.

“Honesty between two thieves and expert liars,” he said very softly. “Do you think that’s possible?”

She slid forward to the edge of her seat. “Give me your hand and I’ll see if it is.”

For the tiniest fraction of a second, Nathanial hesitated. Then he lifted his hand out to her. He had a big hand, to match his height and frame. But unlike Sebastian, he did not have the long, sensitive fingers. His were strong, the palm square. There were calluses below the fingers. Winter touched them.

“From my sword,” Nathanial said.

“But…that must have been years ago.”

“Centuries, actually. Our physiologies do not change.” His gaze was steady, defying her to be appalled or horrified.

She covered his hand with both of hers and edged her senses inside him. It was the same deadness she remembered from her incursion inside Sebastian, but it wasn’t all black and dead and darkness. There was life of a sort. Just not life as she understood it. The heart was there, capable of beating. Blood, and veins and arteries. All the organs were where they should be. They were all dormant, ready to function as needed.

“Do you like football, Nathanial?”

“NFL? Bores me silly,” he told her. His body remained still. Silent.

“What do you like?”

“Sports are vague posturings of people who have forgotten why they do what they are doing. Did you know that most team sports were originally conducted to prepare men for war?” He shook his head. “I find them vapid and shallow.”

She smiled. “Well, I guess I asked for your true opinion.”

Nathanial smiled. “You did.”

“Very well. What do you like that isn’t sports? What gets you excited? Apart from sex?” she added hastily.

The gleam in his eyes told her the final proviso had been just in time. He considered for a moment. “There is no one thing that I consistently turn to but there are many things that move me. I find them every day. You just have to be open to seeing them and they come to you.”

“I don’t understand,” Winter confessed.

“The modern philosophers and cultural psychologists of this day and age advise everyone that they should have a hobby that they’re passionate about, to give them an interest in life. That’s what you’re trying to ask me about now. Truth is, Winter, I ran out of time and patience for maintaining interests decades ago. Now, I just follow life. There’s always new things to learn and life always gives me something beautiful to appreciate—something to get excited about.” He nodded towards the window. “Like your hair outlined by the sunset a moment ago. They were the perfect compliment.”

She felt his heart shift just a little.

“Have you ever stopped to truly smell the bergamot in a pot of fresh Earl Grey tea?” he asked. “I’ve forgotten what it tastes like now, but the smell is divine.”

Blood stirred and flowed, pushed by his heart.

“I like studying the stars, because they’re older than me and they make me feel very small, humble and insignificant. They haven’t changed in all the years I’ve looked up at them, despite the massive changes I’ve seen on Earth. I find that astonishing and comforting at the same time.”

Again, the small flutter of his heart beating.

“Every day there are small things. A kitten asleep in a plant pot. The sun rising over the snow and turning it pink. Hoar frosts still take my breath away with their beauty despite the hundreds I have seen. The kindness of the stranger who pays for the next person’s drinks at the coffee shop. The rudeness of tourists in Jasper during the summer season. The unconscious beauty of young people who don’t realize they have everything ahead of them and are enjoying their every moment now, just as they should.

“And then sometimes I am rewarded by meeting someone like you, Winter, who stirs me so strongly I am forced to hide my reactions with professional techniques.” His heart squeezed. Hard. It began to beat with a normal systolic pulse.

Nathanial sat with a perfectly expressionless face, though.

“Why?” she breathed.

“You already know part of that answer,” he said coolly, but his heart was telling her the coolness was a lie. “I have a weakness for redheads. Your fierce independence, your anger that masks the barely controlled passion calls to me like a siren’s song.”

His heart leapt. She could feel all the physiological markers for a powerful arousal building in him, even though he didn’t move a single muscle.

“You are not what I expected, Winter Manon Kennedy,” Nathanial whispered.

It was such an exact echo of her own thoughts about him that she jerked in surprise and looked more closely into his eyes, forgetting to monitor his responses. “Sebastian warned you about me?”

“Warned, no, but he spoke about you. You don’t fit his description. I don’t mean just the physical, either.” He frowned. “Sebastian usually sees people more clearly than that, too.” He lifted his other hand a fraction of an inch. “I confess it doesn’t help that you have Sebastian’s eyes, either.” He gave a small grimace. “As I am trying to be honest,” he added. He lifted the hand captured between hers. “Do you think honesty is going to be possible between us, Winter?”

She let go of his hand. “Like you did with me, Nial, I have you keyed now. If I’m touching you, I’ll know if you’re lying.”

He smiled. “You called me Nial.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

The captain of the plane stepped through from the cockpit and announced they would be landing in twenty minutes. Time to buckle up.

Nathanial’s smile faded as he turned his chair and reached for the seat belt. “How am I to know if you are lying?”

She thought about it as she arranged and fastened her own belt. “As long as you don’t lie, then I know it’s safe for me to tell the truth. As soon as you shift away from the truth, you’ll send me running. That’s as good as I can give you.”

He considered it for a moment. “Under the circumstances, thanks to your talent, it’s better than two liars could hope for. We’re both good at extemporizing. Let’s see where honesty takes us.”

Winter had never been able to define the relationship between Sebastian and her, but honesty had destroyed it, whatever it had been. Fear touched her as she realized how dangerous honesty was in her life.

The chairs were locked facing toward the front of the cabin, so when Nathanial picked up her hand she was startled.

“Relax,” he murmured. “And stop worrying. You asked for no lies, remember?”

She nodded.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her knuckles. Astonishingly, it didn’t feel silly at all. It was arousing as hell. Especially when his tongue slipped between her fingers to stroke the sensitive flesh there gently.

She let out an unsteady breath.

“Everything will be fine,” he told her. “I am not Sebastian.”

Then she realized the secondary source of her fear. She had invited a vampire into her life, her arms…and possibly her heart. One that was at least a thousand years old.

The truth was, she was terrified underneath her arousal. Ripping off a Mosler safe with a thermic lance seemed…well, passé, in comparison.

Chapter Six

As the Lear touched down in L.A., she wondered if it was the danger in Nathanial that she was chasing. She hadn’t worked a job for nearly a year and the most dangerous hiking to be had around Helena barely lifted her pulse. Winter had long ago acknowledged that she needed the rush of danger in her life, at least in small doses, to feel alive. It was a product of growing up amongst bombs and lawlessness.

Was she simply reaching for the most dangerous thing around right now?

And should she tell Nathanial that?

Winter glanced at him. He was watching her, his eyes hooded so that the blue irises gleamed with the last of the sunset. It was an altogether predatory stare, one that made her jump.

“What interesting thought just passed through that fertile mind of yours?” he murmured.

She drew a breath for courage. “I’m wondering if I’m drawn to you because you’re dangerous, not because of you as a person.” She gave a tiny shrug. “You should know that about me. It’s been a part of my life forever.”

The Lear came to a soft halt and the engines immediately wound down.

“Serbia, yes?” Nathanial murmured, unbuckling and standing up.

She nodded, pulling her own seatbelt undone.

The captain and co-pilot emerged from the cockpit and the co-pilot opened the cabin door. The LAX ground crew already had a portable stair trundled up to the jet.

“Give us a few minutes,” Nathanial told the captain.

“Certainly,” the captain said easily and tugged his co-pilot off the plane and down the stairs.

Nathanial turned to Winter. “You were maybe five when the war began?”

“Eight, when the official war began,” she said. “But there was fighting and bombs and violence long before then and more fighting and bombs and violence long after the official war was over, too. It was only a year or so before I left for America that I can truly remember a time when there wasn’t explosions or people being killed because of which side of a border they lived on. It just…petered out.”

Nathanial’s hand curled around her waist and drew her closer to him. It was a casual move, almost non-aggressive. A man offering comfort, or a hug, almost.

“How many times would you have actually died if not for your talent?” he murmured, holding her firm as she flinched. That was why he had drawn her to him. “How many times, if not for your ability to manipulate your own biology and heal yourself, would you not have survived, Winter?”

The number was scalded into her brain in neon letters. “Seven,” she said stiffly. Not even Sebastian had thought to ask these questions of her.

“Which of those seven occasions was the one when your family died?”

His voice was the gentlest she had ever heard, but it still seemed to tear away a small piece inside her. Winter shook her head. “The second.” Hot tears pricked at her eyes and spilled down one cheek.

Nathanial kissed her wet cheek and she felt his tongue delicately sweep across her flesh and wipe up the tears.

“When I was ten—I think it would have been around ten or so,” he told her, his voice low, “My family’s…well, you would call it a farm. My family’s farm was raided by Lombards. I was captured and tied up and made to watch as they killed all the men too old for slavery in more and more creative ways while they drank all our wine and ate all our food. The women they saved for that night, for sex. The women that didn’t perform to their satisfaction were killed immediately. The others were killed after the warriors had used them. I and the other boys were used as the soldier wanted, too, then tied up and thrown across saddles and taken to the nearest slave markets, a week’s travel away, where we were sold for a profit. The Lombards considered it a good night’s work. I remembered the leader of the Lombards and thirty years later I tracked him down and spent a night reminding him of the terror he had ladled out one night on a lonely farm in the northern Italian mountains. I was a vampire by then, but still, I remembered him and returned the debt.”

Winter shivered. She knew what Nial meant by “returning the debt.” The leader of the Lombards would not have survived that night.

“Yes, I am very dangerous,” Nial told her, his thumb brushing over her still-damp cheek. “So are you. Survivors are by definition dangerous. You can be drawn to me because of the danger, Winter. It’s who I am. I’m drawn to you because you terrify me.”

She felt her eyes widen. “Why?”

“A beautiful, sexy woman who can tell when I lie to her, so that I am forced to tell the truth? You are the ultimate quandary for me.”

She gazed at him, astonished.

Nial laughed, his hand sliding down to cup her jaw. “I think I might like truth-telling after all. It has some compensations, including leaving your mouth invitingly open—”

He kissed her, his long body pressing up against hers. Winter let herself be kissed and slipped into his body with her senses, as his tongue thrust into her mouth. She moaned at the intimate invasion, loving it. Her body was primed and ready for his touch. She had been aching for another kiss since that first demonstration in her kitchen, hours before. This kiss was real…very real. She could feel Nial’s body ripening, stirring against her. He was as driven as she.

The realization unlocked Winter’s reserves. She thrust her hands into the thick black locks of his hair, holding his head still and gave as good as she got. Her body seemed to bloom with hot white fire. The need to be possessed at once, if not sooner, was like a siren call in her mind.

Nial responded. His body throbbed with life. He groaned as his hand clenched in her hair and the other slid inside the back of her jeans, to stroke the upper swell of her ass.

“Winter, be careful…” he murmured.

“No.”

“My canines. You’ve provoked me.”

She pulled her head away from his enough to look at him properly. “Let me see,” she demanded, for his lips were together.

He hesitated, then opened his mouth a little and lifted the upper lip. Ending slightly lower than the rest of his teeth were two very sharp-looking narrow pointed teeth that lay over the top of the rest. As she examined them, they retracted into his gums, high up, and disappeared.

“They don’t look like they do in the movies.”

“No, they don’t,” he said dryly. “We need them for tearing flesh, not siphoning blood. The movies need them to look dramatic, not realistic.”

She caught his face in her hands. “You’re embarrassed, Nial. Is this something that doesn’t happen to you normally?”

The furrow was between his brows again. He drew a breath. “No, it isn’t,” he said shortly. “I haven’t lost control like that for…” He gave a short laugh. “I can’t remember the last time. I was very young, put it that way.” He took another breath. “You must guard yourself when you kiss me and my canines are descended. They are designed precisely for tearing human flesh, but I would much rather kiss you than not.” He gave a small smile. “There are ways…”

She reached up on tiptoe and kissed him softly. “I think that is the most human I have seen you, and you are discussing something about your vampire nature. How ironic.” She lifted a hand toward the door of the cabin. “They won’t wait for us forever.”

He sighed. “The Ningaloo police report will be waiting in the lounge for us, too.”

* * *

Winter had travelled first class and economy class over the years, depending on the roles and requirements of the jobs to hand or the expediency of the available tickets. Generally, she preferred first class for long haul flights simply because it was easier on the body, but she preferred economy for the quicker trips.

Nial, though, knew far better than her how to demand and enjoy luxury travel even in a strained economy. Once they passed through the security barriers and into the first class lounge, they never had to pick up their luggage again.

They checked in and went through customs formalities in the lounge and while they were waiting for their flight, Winter showered and changed. She got to enjoy an evening meal at the complimentary buffet served in the lounge, afterwards, too.

As she sat down at the elegantly laid table to eat, Nial pulled up the chair next to her and sat down.

“You have news?” she asked, picking up her fork.

“A man fitting Sebastian’s description is in Ningaloo. Your memory served us well.” He kissed her temple, making her catch her breath. “But please eat. You must be hungry.”

“You don’t mind?”

He shook his head, his hand settling on her thigh. “I usually resent it, but you make eating look like such a sensual feast, last time I shifted the conversation to a demonstration of my seduction skills just so I could get my hands and mouth on you.”

From his hand on her thigh she could tell he wasn’t lying. His fingertips moved gently, stroking the flesh of her thigh below the hem of her skirt.

“Now you’ve made me self-conscious about eating,” she complained, as her body rippled under his touch.

“Good,” he said with a smile. He drew a lazy circle on her thigh with his forefinger. “Is this skirt for my benefit or do you always dress so formally for flying?”

Winter glanced down at the silk tights and pleated skirt. “I learned a long time ago that trousers are a huge mistake for long haul flights. I refuse to wear gym pants that bunch up around the crotch and smell abominably after twelve hours. These clothes are wrinkle proof and climate adjustable. I can remove and add layers as I need to and they look presentable no matter how long I wear them.”

“Then the tights cannot be tights…” Nial murmured, his fingers pausing in their circling.

“No,” she said with a smile. “They’re stockings, Nial.”

“Ah…” he breathed. “Be still, my heart.” Contrariwise, his heart thudded heavily. His fingers crept higher towards the hem of her skirt.

“I really do need to eat,” she warned him, lifting another forkful of salad.

“I’ll behave. For now,” he promised, his fingers flirting with the hem of her skirt.

But the teasing flickering of his fingers was having an effect on her anyway. She tried to ignore the rising beat of need and finish her meal, but Nial’s silent appraisal and his stroking fingers made that impossible.

She put her fork down, her plate unfinished, defeated.

“Sip the wine,” he encouraged her. “Let me smell it.”

“You can lift the glass and sniff for yourself.”

“But I want to watch you do it. Then it’s not simply teasing.”

She lifted the glass of ruby red wine and inhaled the bouquet. “Oh,” she said, surprised. “It smells very good.” She tipped the glass and drank a mouthful and let it slide down her throat. “Gorgeous,” she declared as the full extent of the excellent wine registered on her tongue.

Nial kissed her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and collecting the residue of the wine. She felt his pleasure and arousal mingle and it reinforced her own.

“Nial,” she breathed. “You are only teasing me. It will make the flight unbearable if you leave me in such a state.”

He leaned back just far enough to look at her. “Who said anything about leaving you this way?” His hand smoothed its way down her thigh to her knee. “Silk stockings with lace tops. You know how to travel in style, I’ll give you that. Now I’ll show you how to travel in luxury.” He gave a small smile. “As much luxury as is left in this day and age.”

They were called for their flight barely ten minutes later and Winter caught her first hint of what Nial meant by ‘luxury’. They were shown to adjoining suites on the top deck of the 747, by a hostess in the dun colored uniform and the bright white head scarf. She introduced herself as Hanifa and their personal assistant for the first leg of the flight to Hong Kong. Hanifa pulled aside the dividing wall between the suites, turning them into a single large suite, and explained all the controls for the digital and entertainment equipment. She glanced at her watch. “I understand that you arrived in Los Angeles from Montana, so it is past midnight by your personal time. I am guessing you will want to sleep very soon. Would you like some sort of night cap and the seats arranged into beds?”

Winter took a deep breath and tried to hide the silly grin spreading across her face. “That would be lovely,” she said. She could see Nial’s smile from the corner of her eye and fought the need to either look at him or ram her elbow into his side. She could almost hear his silent “I told you so.”

Her whole body tightened and pulsed with possibilities.

* * *

They served Winter a decaffeinated coffee laced with brandy at the bar while their suites were prepared for sleep. Like he had in her basement, Nial sat on the bar stool and stretched out his legs. He seemed to be getting huge amounts of amusement out of her unfamiliarity with this level of first class travel and her enjoyment of it.

When one of the other businessmen introduced himself to Nial, Nial shook his hand and used the name on the passport he was travelling on and Winter could actually see the shield drop down behind his eyes. She put her coffee cup down, some of her enjoyment evaporating, and pushed her thigh up against Nial’s leg to get a reading from him.

He was wary. Guarded.

At her touch, he picked up her hand and drew her between his knees and wrapped his arms around her waist as he continued the polite conversation about the Red Sox and the Yankees. Then, in a slight pause, he introduced her, using the name on the passport she had used to check in with.

“My wife,” he added casually.

Winter was fully into role playing, keeping names straight, facts aligned and assessing the man in front of her, or she would have jumped, startled. Unobtrusively, she slid her bare left hand out of sight behind her.

“Different names?” the man said, puzzled. Pete, she reminded herself. His name is Pete.

“Professional necessity,” she said smoothly. “I have thousands of clients. It would have confused them all if I changed names.”

“Besides, we’re still on our honeymoon and haven’t got around to sorting all the details out yet.” Nial nuzzled her neck from behind and she did jump this time, for as his lips seared an imprint against the nape of her neck, a ring slid onto the appropriate finger of her left hand and was pushed into place.

Winter laughed, venting her surprise that way and reached for her coffee cup with her left hand. There was a gold ring on her ring finger. An Irish Claddagh ring, with the crown sitting toward her hand. It was very slightly too big, but not enough to look odd.

Nial must have been carrying it with him somehow. He hadn’t been wearing it even on his smallest fingers.

Pete laughed, too. “Then I guess I’m interrupting the wedding night, huh?” He winked. “Helluva way to celebrate, though. Good hotel would’ve been nicer.”

“I don’t know…the little beach and palm tree we’ll spend the next ten nights beneath will do very nicely,” Winter said judiciously.

Pete roared with laughter, slapping his thigh.

“Although, you do need to be careful of all that sun on that tattoo on your—” Nial began and stopped. He glanced at Pete. “Well, you know where,” he finished, with a smile that was both secretive, seductive and intimate all at once.

Pete almost drooled as he picked up his scotch glass. “I guess I don’t wanna know,” he said.

Winter gave a small laugh. “I just got it for the wedding,” she explained. “So I have to be careful for a while. It has black roses and says ‘I love Josh, horn dog and con artist’.” Josh was the name on Nial’s passport. She smiled winningly at Nial. “Doesn’t it, honey?”

Pete choked on his scotch and thumped his chest.

There was a light in Nial’s eyes that told her he was enjoying this immensely. He stroked his crooked finger under her chin. “That’s a joke you’re going to have to live with forever, you know.”

“Yes, but which half of it is the joke?” she teased back.

“Yep, you two are definitely in love,” Pete said. “So the other half must be the joke.”

Winter’s coffee cup jerked and the contents splashed all over the bar.

“Oh dear!” the hostess behind the bar said, with her strong Arabic accent. She leaned over and began mopping up black coffee with a cloth in hurried, expert movements. The fuss of cleaning up brandy-smelling coffee stole the attention away from her and Winter was deeply relieved because for several seconds she could not have covered up properly to save her life.

They looked like a couple in love? They really looked like a couple in love?

By the time the coffee had been cleaned up and the bar restored to normal, Winter’s pulse had also returned to something close to standard. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Nial, though. She knew he would be studying her with more amusement in his expression and a knowing light in his eyes. He was a master at human psychology—he had to be, to be able to scam people so well. He would have known the coffee didn’t leap out of her hand at that ill-timed moment all by itself.

Winter picked up Nial’s hands from around her waist and stepped out from between his legs. “I’m heading back,” she said and kissed his cheek, avoiding his gaze. “Don’t be too long, huh?” She smiled at Pete. “My husband tends to stay up all hours of the night. Vampire hours, you know? Nice to meet you.”

She slipped between the first class suites to theirs, knowing that Nial would not be far behind.

Chapter Seven

Winter kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed that had been assembled while she was gone. The lighting had been lowered and pillows plumped and placed for them both. Soft music played on the entertainment screen, masking the constant thrumming of the aircraft.

It was cozy and would definitely be private once the doors were shut.

“Vampire hours, hmmm?” Nial murmured. “Very cute.”

She looked up from studying the entertainment controls, startled. “You sneaked up on me deliberately,” she accused. He stood on the other side of the double suite, a hand on either side of the curved walls.

“Of course,” he said. “I wanted to see what you were doing. I admit I’m somewhat disappointed. I thought you might be lying across the beds, waiting for me.”

She laughed. “You’re an optimist.”

“I have fantasies,” he corrected gravely.

Winter felt her cheeks heat. He seemed to be able to do that to her far too easily. “You enjoyed that,” she admonished him.

“Which? Making you blush or the by-play at the bar?”

“Both,” she said simply. “A professional would have been too focused to enjoy himself.”

Nial’s smile faded. “I’ve never considered myself a professional,” he replied. “I did it from necessity and made myself good at it because I wanted to survive. Life is ugly enough at the baseline without adding to the seriousness. You should be adding joy wherever you can. Not the other way around. Didn’t Serbia teach you that?”

She sat up on her knees. “Define joy for me,” she demanded.

Nial’s eyes narrowed. “Do you want a dictionary definition or a personal interpretation?”

She hissed her impatience at him. “How old were you when you became a vampire?”

Nial glanced along the corridor, dropped off his shoes, then eased himself onto his side of the bed and shut the door on his side of the suite. It enclosed them in their own little world. Then he surprised her by crossing his legs and threading his fingers together. He didn’t reach for her or languidly recline. He was treating the question seriously.

“I was twenty-eight, as near as I can calculate,” he told her. “Age was not a critical matter in my day,” he added. “And calendars and years were not precise.”

“But you were taken from your family and put into slavery when you were ten, you said.”

He drew a breath. She saw his shoulders lift. “Yes,” he said simply.

“While you were a slave, did you have friends amongst the other slaves?”

His eyes narrowed again. “Slavery didn’t work like that. I was sold to a household after my capture and put to work there. But I had a friend in the house, one of owner’s sons, and there were other slaves in other households nearby.”

Winter nodded. “You had a place, then.”

Nial’s expression became a fully-fledged frown. “For the way things worked back then, yes. I had a place. I didn’t particularly care for it, once I understood where I stood in the scheme of things. But I had my place.”

“I didn’t,” Winter replied. “Not once. Not ever. You at least had twenty-eight years of being human and being accepted. I’ve never had that, not even from my family.” She filled her lungs and held them for a moment against the swell of self-pity, before letting herself go on.

Nial’s expression was neither pitying or gentle. It was simply interested and that helped. “They rejected your talent as soon as they learned of it,” he surmised.

She nodded again. “They wouldn’t touch me. Ever. They would rarely speak to me. It was only my father’s idea of Christian charity that made him keep me in the house and feed and clothe me. He began to drink and beat my mother when I was four. He thought it was her fault for producing me. When he was drunk he would say she had slept with the devil to get me. Because of my parent’s examples, my older brother would steal my food and also beat me whenever he could find me, so I spent most of my time hiding in my room, or escaping through my window and roaming the city. That brought its own dangers, of course, so I quickly learned the ways of the streets and how to use my talent to defend myself. I learned very fast that I was different. Not precisely human.”

Winter bit her lip. “Then the war came and everything changed. Not for better or for worse. It just changed. I met my first Americans a few years later and decided I wanted to go there. I had to wait until I was eighteen and could lie about my identity and emigrate as an adult, but I landed in New York in February the year after I turned eighteen. I was mugged two hours later and found out that nothing had changed, everything was the same…so I picked up where I left off and here I am, the world’s best thief and con artist.”

She looked Nial in the eye. “I don’t find much joy in life. Life hasn’t accepted me in any way. I just live on the outside, peering in, pretending to be part of it. So do you, now.”

Nial rested his hands around her waist. “Is that what you think I do?” he asked. He lifted her with ease and lowered her onto his lap, spreading her legs over his. With his thighs already spread by his cross-legged posture, Winter found herself opened up and accessible in a way that made her clit throb with the possibilities. The only barrier was her panties.

Nial’s hands cupped her ass, moving restlessly.

She linked her hands around the back of his neck. He was tall enough that even perched like this, she didn’t have to look down too far to look into his eyes.

“You’re breathing quickly,” he murmured.

“Your heart is racing,” she countered.

“Yours would too, if all you could feel is bare flesh underneath a pretty skirt.”

“I’m wearing a thong, Nial.”

“Hence the racing heart. Those things are a menace to a man’s heart beat.” His hands slid higher. “Mmm. Lace, too. Just like your stockings. You do not play fair.”

“No,” she agreed. “But you’re stronger and faster. I need my advantages.”

His eyes looked sleepy with arousal. “Take off your jacket thing.”

“This?” She tugged at the knot at the front of the soft cropped knit jacket with its ruffled sleeves and fronts, untied it and dropped it behind Nial. She wore now the tartan pleated skirt and a green stretch silk camisole and the bra beneath. But the bra was a shelf bra and her nipples were already hard, erect nubs pushing at the thin, sensual silk.

Nial let out a soft breath as he saw them and his reaction made her body clench and her clit bloom. She drew in a shaky breath.

“The top,” he whispered.

She could feel his own heart thundering in his chest. His body straining with a sudden and overwhelming arousal, but he was holding it back. Damming it.

The knowledge fed into her own arousal and increased it. Winter moaned as she reached for the hem of her top and tugged it upwards. She could feel Nial’s gaze on her bare midriff as it was revealed, then her bra and the naked tips of her breasts as she pulled the top over her head. She shook her hair out and found Nial was watching her face.

“You packed with me in mind, didn’t you?”

“No.”

His gaze was steady.

“Perhaps,” she conceded. “But you did say to pack for every contingency.”

“I didn’t have seduction in mind when I said that.”

“I did,” she replied simply. “You had just finished kissing me not so long ago. It may look like it, but I really don’t switch off so easily.”

He brought a hand up to slide it into her hair. “Truth, Winter?” He brought her mouth to his. “Neither do I.” His tongue stroked the outline of her lips before plunging deep inside, making her moan.

His fingers on her ass were separating her cheek, exposing even more of her cleft, making her aware of exactly how moist she was growing. How slippery.

And how desperately she wanted Nial to slide his fingers the necessary few more inches deeper into her vagina, to fill the empty space that was aching to be possessed.

His hand did finally move…but to grip the lace of her thong and tear it with slow, inexorable force until the panties tore away from her with a tired, low ripping sound.

Nial’s mouth moved from her lips to her chin, nibbling and licking, making a small feast of her flesh. His hand in her hair gently pulled her head back so that he could access her throat.

Then he began to dine on the column of her neck, his tongue leavening and marking the trail.

Winter clutched at him, her excitement building, her breathing accelerating, her body vibrating. Her eyes kept trying to close with pleasure and she fought the temptation. She wanted to watch Nial’s male beauty as he touched and toyed with her.

His progress slowed as he neared her nipples and Winter beat at his shoulder with her fist. “Tease!”

“Of course!” he murmured, his lips brushing against the swell of her upper breast. He was smiling. His tongue stroked her skin. “Would you prefer I be even more cruel?” He pulled her head back again, so that she could not see what he was doing as he began to tease and stroke and suck her flesh, moving near and around and close to her nipples, but not quite touching them.

Winter began to writhe with need and impatience. But her own fraught arousal was having a profound effect upon Nial as she squirmed upon his lap. She could feel his heart hammering with a very human, very stressed and ragged beat. His blood pressure was that of a man under intense stress and it was still slowly climbing.

The fingers of the hand he was using to cup her bottom rolled closer to her cleft, making her moan low in the back of her throat. His fingertips traced the wet valley in soft, delicate touches designed to taunt her.

Winter arched against him, her hips and pelvis pressing against his taut stomach.

She heard his breath catch, felt his heart jump and his pulse leap at the same time. His hand in her hair tightened, keeping her locked in that position.

At the same time, his fingers pressed inside her, driving deep. Two, maybe three, she wasn’t quite sure. The rough, uneven shape of them, the knuckles pushing up against the walls of her pussy, were so unlike a man’s cock.

Almost at the same moment, Nial captured the tip of her breast in his mouth, his teeth closing around the hot, sensitive nipple and tugging on it, as his tongue swept over the very end.

She bucked, as the wave of sensation that rocketed through her sparked the beginnings of her orgasm. She clutched at Nial desperately. “Together,” she breathed. “I want us to come together.”

“We will,” he assured her.

He had released her head and now his hand stroked between her thighs. “Get rid of the skirt,” he commanded her. His voice was thick with pleasure. She could measure how drunk he was on it by the rush of blood in his veins, the force of life in him. He was as human now as she was.

Winter slipped the button on the band of her skirt undone and the skirt slithered away from her hips, leaving her bare to Nial’s gaze, all except for the lacy tops of her stockings.

He drew in an unsteady breath. “Pure sin,” he breathed. His hand drifted from her thighs to her bare mound. He slipped his forefinger between her lips and rested it up against her clit. “Wet and throbbing,” he crooned, looking up at her face.

Her breath shuddered on the way down. “Make me come,” she breathed.

Nial drew his finger back and forth with a firm, knowing stroke and the pleasure rippled through her. From deep inside, her climax stirred and gathered. Winter fought to keep her gaze on his face, to not sink into the pool of ecstasy to the point where she lost focus on Nial.

“Again,” she whispered.

His fingers drove into her vagina as he stroked her clit again and this time she could barely hold herself upright against him.

“Let go,” he told her. “Let me watch you let go. Please.”

It was the ‘please’ that was her undoing. With a guttural groan she let her head fall back and her orgasm take her. It was one of the most powerful climaxes she had ever experienced.  She grit her teeth to muffle the sounds that wanted to emerge from her in reaction. The white noise and fizz and buzz of electrical storms slammed through her system with the impact of a hurricane, leaving her breathless, her chest heaving and a faint ache behind her eyes.

She realized her forehead was resting on Nial’s shoulder and her arm was loosely around his neck. His hand was soothing her back.

But his body was still raging with an arousal so powerful if it had been radiation a lighthouse could have guided ships by it.

Winter could feel her own body responding as if it was radiation. She was stirring, rousing, becoming infected immediately, despite her heart still racing from her powerful climax. Or perhaps that even helped. Her clit was still throbbing. She could still feel the imprint of Nial’s fingers being inside her. Her pussy was still moist and hot and ready.

Winter pulled off her bra and tossed it toward the untouched pillows.

Nial watched but didn’t comment. His heart, though, gave a little skip.

She reached for his sweater and pulled it up and over his head.

Nial’s sweater had outlined what appeared to be agreeably built musculature and that proved to be correct. Nial had all the muscle the mounds and dips in the cashmere had hinted at.

The cashmere had hidden the scars.

There weren’t a lot. Just three. Two on his chest and one on the arm. But they looked brutal and badly healed.

Winter tried not to react, to let her gaze pass over them and on. But she failed.

“Look at them,” Nial told her. “They’re part of me.”

“I thought…don’t you heal?” she asked.

“I got these when I was human,” he said simply. He smiled a little. “My back is worse. Slaves were most often whipped on their backs.”

Winter bit her lip, looking at the disfigurements. Then she leaned down and deliberately kissed them. She felt Nial’s shock. His hand touched her head, then slid into it.

“Turn and lie down,” she told him.

“If I must,” he said, but his body gave lie to the neutral tone. It leapt.

He managed to turn in the tight quarters and lie across the narrow beds, yet still keep Winter straddled across his hips. She moved enough to give herself access to his trousers. Nial’s crotch was a congested, swollen mound.

Winter stripped him of the rest of his clothing, feasting on the sight of his cock. From her gazes inside him, she knew this organ functioned just as did every other man’s except for one crucial difference—Nial was sterile and utterly unable to catch any sort of sexual disease. She could have unprotected sex with him with a completely free conscience.

But in every other regard Nial was completely male. Utterly so. She stroked him and his pelvis lifted and his cock jerked. Veins ran the length of the shaft, engorged and thick. The head flared, purple with excitement and a bead of pre-come appeared.

Winter cupped his testicles. They were swollen, heavy in her hand and she squeezed gently, making Nial draw in his breath in a shuddering, long hiss.

She smiled, watching him through her eyelashes. It was powerful, watching Nial groan under her hand. She reached beneath and stroked the sensitive perineum and was rewarded with not just his groan but the thrust of his hips and his hands gripping the sheets.

Sensitive…

Her heart racing, she leaned down and ran her tongue from the base of his cock to the tip, letting it bump over the head and swirl around the dimpled eye.

Nial’s moan was like music, played off against the internal sensations of his body beating and swelling and responding to her touch. Winter loved to fuck a man with her mouth, but she had never deliberately used her talent to get feedback on what worked and what didn’t before. It was only now, because Nial had agreed to let her read him for lies, now that she was constantly touching inside him, that it occurred to her to use her talent in this extraordinary way. Normally she tried to be…well, normal.

But Nial wasn’t normal.

Neither was she.

Winter curled her fingers about the base of his cock and slipped her lips over the head. She let her throat relax and pushed him as far inside as possible, then slid her lips back up the shaft to bump over the head.

Nial couldn’t even groan, the tension in his body was too tight. His climax leapt closer.

Winter settled in to drive Nial as mad as possible, using her talent to read just how close to climax she could bring him, then let him subside before building him up, again and again, with her mouth and hands orchestrating a medley on his cock and testicles, perineum and around the sensitive tissues of his anus.

She knew without looking that his canines were fully descended, just by the way his fingers were digging into the sheets next to her thigh, the knuckles white. He was making hoarse, breathless sounds.

Finally, Winter leisurely straddled his hips once more, steadying herself on his shoulders, as his chest heaved. She lowered herself down slowly onto his cock, clenching herself around him on the way down.

Nial closed his eyes as she slid down, his hands gripping her hips. “I won’t bother asking if you know what you’re doing to me. You know full well.” His voice was hoarse. “Just finish me off and hurry.”

“Rembrandt never hurried anything.”

He groaned and rolled his head back. “I’ll hurry you myself if you don’t,” he warned. There was a note in his voice that she took seriously. She had tested his mettle and patience enough. Winter lifted herself up enough to push down upon him again. She began to ride his cock, letting him thrust inside her.

It took very little more. A few hard, deep strokes inside her and Nial exploded in a climax that almost lifted him off the bed in a hard arch that made the tendons in his neck strain and his fingers dig into her hips.

His hands slipped under her neck and her ass and he flipped her on her back in one fast blur of movement she felt dizzy.

His cock was still inside her. Still erect.

Nial lifted her thigh, sliding his arm under her knee. “You’ve made me sweat,” he growled. “Do you know how long it is since a woman made me break out in a sweat in bed?”

He pulled out of her nearly all the way and thrust back into her. She gasped.

“Do you know how long it is since I was worked up enough to sweat at all?” he asked and thrust into her again, another hard, demanding stroke.

Winter could feel the heat from his body. He wasn’t lying. He was human hot. Sweaty. His body was working overtime. He was reaching another climax. She could feel his pleasure building—it hadn’t fully dissipated, the last climax hadn’t been enough. He needed more.

Winter rested her hand against his cheek. “Come for me,” she murmured. “Come with me.” For she could feel her own orgasm building just because she had touched his growing excitement.

Deliberately, she sank into Nial’s senses, mingling with them. She gasped as the sensations twined and leapt upwards. “Hurry,” she breathed.

“Yes,” he agreed, slamming into her.

They came together, just as he had promised. It was a breath-robbing and heart-pausing moment that seemed to spin out for moments on end. Nial hung over her, beads of perspiration at his temples and she could feel his cock pulsing inside her as he came.

The after-shocks rippled through her, making her shudder as she stared up at him.

Nial lowered her thigh and himself on one elbow over her. His cock still rested inside her. He kissed her long and hard. “I, for one, am very glad you are not quite human, Winter Kennedy,” he said softly.

It touched her as he had intended it to. But that didn’t stop the sting of the underlying truth: Sebastian had been searching for human love and she hadn’t been able to supply it. The man they were racing to rescue was bound to a woman he didn’t want.

Chapter Eight

When Winter woke, she became aware of nearly half a dozen factors almost immediately.

The cabin lights were brighter, including those in their twin suite. There was hot food nearby. It included coffee and something that had maple syrup in it. Possibly oatmeal. People were moving about the cabin beyond the doors.

Sometime during the night, Nial had dressed her again—at least in her skirt and camisole. Now he was curled behind her, around the length of her body, under the blanket that he had placed over her sometime while she had slept. One arm was tucked over her waist and the hand cupped her breast.

The fingers of his other hand were drawing her hair away from her temple. “I’m sorry to wake you, but Hong Kong is only ninety minutes away and your breakfast is going cold,” he murmured in her ear.

“Maple and raisin oatmeal and coffee,” she replied.

“And tropical fruit salad. The hot course will be along as soon as you choose which of the five entrees you want. I’m hoping you pick the honeyed ham so I can kiss you after each bite.” His lips pressed against her temple. “You can also choose to shower between this and the hot course, too, if you want.”

She groaned with delight and sat up. “A shower!”

Nial rested his head on his hand. He was fully dressed and from the state of his clothes and hair, it looked like he had already showered. “What is it about hot showers and baths that send women into hysterics like that? I still don’t understand it and they were doing it when I was a child.”

“It’s a woman thing,” she assured him and leaned forward to pick up the still steaming coffee cup and sip. “You never will.”

“Very well,” he said, sounding resigned. “Don’t spill that coffee,” he added. “No one is around to accuse you of being in love here.”

She looked at him over the top of it, trying to keep her gaze steady. “Why did you decide to pretend we were married, anyway?”

“It’s one of the quickest ways to off-load pesky travelers who want to start up a drinking session.” He shrugged. “It was a good explanation for you and me disappearing into our suite and not re-emerging.”

She could feel her face heating, but ignored it. “You just happened to have a convenient wedding ring in my size on you?” She held up her left hand with the Claddagh ring.

Nial reached into his pocket and pulled out something. He poured a fine gold chain onto the sheet between them. “I used to wear it around my neck because it wouldn’t fit my fingers and I didn’t want to get it resized.” He looked at her. “It was Sebastian’s,” he said.

She gripped the coffee cup, feeling a little sick. “You put it on me?”

“He wouldn’t mind,” Nial assured her. “It was his mother’s, a long time ago. He refused to have it resized, too. I followed suit.” He lay on his back. “It seems appropriate that it fits you.”

“Why?” she snapped suspiciously.

Nial glanced at her and grinned. “Sebastian’s mother was a fiery redhead. Independent. Feisty. She would have kicked butt if she had been born in this day and age.” He picked up a lock of her hair from around her waist. “Please do me a personal favor, Winter? Don’t change your hair again.”

Winter put her cup down on the shelf with a thump that made the contents slosh. “I can’t,” she muttered, feeling the flicker of low-grade anger.

Nial sat up properly, one knee cocked. “Why not? You changed it once already.”

Winter plucked at the wrinkled sheet in front of her. “I don’t know. I think it’s something to do with Sebastian’s blood. It’s locked me into this color. Now I know that his mother is a redhead, that makes me even more certain his blood has something to do with it. I made the change to red just after he…we…the second feeding, the last time he saw me. Then after about three or four months I tried to change back and I couldn’t.”

Nial picked up her hand, the one pulling at the sheet. “What happened? What made you try to change back?”

“Nothing,” she said.

He just looked at her.

“Honestly!” she told him.

He lifted a brow.

“It was a whole lot of little things,” she finished.

“And those little things were…?”

She winced. “Men hitting on me,” she said, knowing how stupid and utterly arrogant it sounded.

Nial smiled. The smile turned into a grin, but he managed not to laugh. “You like your men under your control that much, Winter?”

“Apparently.”

He sighed. “Well, you’re just going to have to settle for being a redheaded man-magnet.” He kissed the back of her hand. “I’ll fend off the men hitting on you. Will that make you feel better?”

She took a breath. Through the touch of his hand she could tell that he actually meant it. He sounded flip, but there was a core of determination in him. “Yes,” she whispered, feeling ridiculously close to tears. “It makes me feel much better.”

“Good. Now, eat your breakfast.” He held out the coffee cup again.

She took off the ring. “You should take this back.”

He closed her fingers over it. “Wear it for now,” he told her. “Pete needs to see it on your finger for the rest of this flight. Besides, I broke the chain getting it off so fast last night. The safest place for the ring is on your finger where it fits and won’t get lost.”

She put it back on and tried to fight the small feeling of pleasure she got from wearing it by reminding herself the symbolism was purely a scam.

It didn’t help.

Every time she saw the ring on her finger, she simultaneously thought of both Sebastian and Nial and the odd heritage of the ring.

It should have been warning enough.

* * *

United Emirates made the transfer at Hong Kong smooth and seamless as possible, with a comfortable wait in their lounge before boarding another aircraft for the long haul down to Perth.

It was there that for the first time Winter became aware of the speculative stares they were attracting. Not all of the stares and looks were discreet, either. Some of the passengers were openly studying them.

“You’ve fallen silent,” Nial pointed out.

“People are watching us.”

“They’re watching you, is more to the point.”

She gave a low laugh. “Nial, you’re not that modest.”

“True. But in this case, I’m not fooling myself, either.” He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. Winter was fast getting used to the gesture and growing to like it, to the point where she held her breath, wondering if he would stroke her fingers with his tongue, or fix her gaze with his own, or something else entirely…

This time he did neither, but she still enjoyed the touch of his lips on the back of her hand. He spread her hand over his thigh and stroked the back of it as he spoke. “You admitted you chose your clothes with me in mind, did you not?”

“A little. I really do prefer skirts for travelling. The shelf bra…” She found the corners of her mouth lifting. “That was a last minute addition, yes.”

“And the ankle boots with the heels?” He slid his finger between hers, making her flesh tingle. “Do you always take such care with your make-up to sit around in a transit lounge, hmmm?” He was smiling as he teased.

“Well, no,” she agreed.

“Besides,” he added, “Every time I glimpse the lacy tops of your stockings, my heart leaps, just as you intended it should. But mine is not the only heart that stutters and hurries along. There is not a single hot blooded male here between fifteen and fifty-five who hasn’t looked you over and fantasized about what it would be like to know you in some intimate fashion.”

Winter felt pulling on her hand and looked down. She was trying to yanking her hand away from Nial’s grip.

“You are perfectly safe with me, remember?” His volume was just enough to reach her ears.

Winter nodded. Nial was one of the most dangerous men—creatures—to walk the globe, and he stood between her and every man in this room.

She took a breath. Another. She poured endorphins and calming chemicals into her body. Peace returned.

Nial watched it all.

Oh well. This was part of truth-telling, she realized. He got to see her panic and pain as well as her good side.

Nial brushed her hair back over her shoulder. “Let them admire you,” he murmured into her ear. “It is harmless. You can continue to pick and choose on your terms and I will always come to your aid if you call, because I understand.”

Winter looked at him. “You do?”

He nodded. “We are survivors, remember?” He leaned very close to her, his arm around her waist. To others it would look like they were trading an intimate, sexy whisper. His lips brushed her ear, his hand twined in hers. “How many times did you submit to rape before you learned to use your talent to beat off the attacks?”

Winter had long ago subsumed the knowledge. She had buried it deep, so the question didn’t make her jump. It just made her sad. “Four,” she said with a sigh. “But only the last time was very bad because by then I understood what it meant.” Then she focused on Nial’s words. We are survivors.

She looked at him. “You, too?”

He drew a breath that might have been a sigh. “It was the way of it then.”

Winter bit her lip. “How…many?” She shook her head. “It happened a lot, didn’t it?”

He smiled and it was a light-hearted expression. “Unlike you, Winter, I had no talent as a shield. I was human—and a slave—until I was twenty-eight and had a way to fight back.”

“How can you be so…happy about it?” she whispered.

“What’s done is done. Those times are gone now. Those people are gone. The man I was is gone. Those times formed the man I am now and I’m grateful for the lessons they gave me.”

She touched his face in wonder. “You’re serious.”

“Well…yes,” he said, sounding surprised that she would ask that.

“You’re a philosopher,” she breathed.

He laughed softly. “Live as long as I have and philosophy calcifies into your bones. It’s unavoidable.”

She found herself smiling with him and thanks to the invisible shield he’d placed in front of her, she didn’t even mind the stares and glances of other people when she caught them.

In fact, she started to feel proud that she was with Nial, who was by far the most attractive man in the lounge. Winter swapped her attention to the women in the lounge and noticed they were watching Nial when they could, even though he wasn’t dressed for attention at all. Despite his dark clothing and non-flashy mannerisms, his height and width of his shoulders, his dark hair and brilliant blue eyes were still drawing the focus of feminine gazes all the way across the room.

They were just being more discreet about it than the men ogling Winter.

Obscurely, that made Winter feel much better. The more envious and salacious stares and drools she noticed sent in Nial’s direction, the better she felt.

By the time they boarded the plane, she was floating.

* * *

Once airborne, they had nearly eight hours travel time to reach Perth. Their new hostess, Amira, arranged fresh coffee for Winter while Nial busied himself with the computer and keyboard on his side of the suite.

Out of curiosity, Winter pulled up Wikipedia and plugged in the one fact that she could recall that Nial had let slip from his past: Lombards, the raiders from his childhood. He had been living on a farm in the Italian mountains, he’d said. And Sebastian had said that he thought Nial was nearly a thousand years old…

There was an entry for Lombards in the search results, so Winter clicked on it and brought it up.

“The Lombards (Latin Langobardi, whence the alternative names Langobards and Longobards) were a Germanic people originally from Northern Europe who settled in the valley of the Danube and from there invaded Byzantine Italy in 568 under the leadership of Alboin. They established a Lombard Kingdom, later named Kingdom of Italy, which lasted until 774—”

Winter paused to do the mental arithmetic, but the numbers didn’t seem to add up, so she kept re-doing the sums.

“One thousand, four hundred and fifty-one, give or take a year or so,” Nial said.

Winter jumped, startled. The keyboard scraped across the shelf with a plastic squawk. She glanced at him, almost guilty. “I was snooping. Sorry.”

“Why didn’t you just ask?”

“I didn’t think you liked to talk about it. Sebastian didn’t seem to have a clear idea how old you were. He was out by five hundred years.”

“Sebastian doesn’t like to talk about it.” Nial sighed. “He doesn’t like to speak of anything that isn’t purely human. He resents—” He grimaced. “He resented being a vampire so much it was almost pathological, except that it’s impossible for vampires to develop pathological problems.” He looked away.

“It’s just vampires in general he hates, Nial. Not you in particular,” Winter told him.

“You wouldn’t think so if you heard our last…conversation.” Then Nial shrugged it off. Winter could feel him doing it through the light contact her knee had against his thigh. There was pain there. Resentment. “Ah…he’s human now. He got his wish. Now he can spit on vampires to his heart content.”

But still Nial was rushing to Sebastian’s rescue. For the first time Winter thought to wonder why.

Nial turned to her, breaking her tenuous contact with his thigh. “You are the first person in centuries, human or vampire, to care enough about my origins to go digging for my birth date. So now you have my age.” He lifted a brow. “Does it shock you?”

He was changing subjects deliberately. Winter decided to let him have his way.

This time.

The conversation meandered after that, with Nial’s hands wandering over her body as much as their public location would allow. Because she was wearing a skirt and open-fronted jacket it meant that Niall could get way with far more than Winter could with his clothing. By the time they had sat through two movies, he had brought her to three climaxes, as she gripped the armrests, her teeth clenched and her knuckles white.

Winter only realized she had dozed again when she woke to find herself in Nial’s arms, her head on his shoulder and another brilliant sunset dazzling her eyes through the porthole.

“I never sleep on planes,” she murmured.

“Because you don’t usually have someone at your back,” he replied. She could feel his voice against her shoulder and under her head.

I had Sebastian, she wanted to say. Sebastian would easily have been as powerful and ruthless as Nial. But as dangerous? As much of a survivor? Would he have watch her back as Nial promised?

Sebastian and she had been work partners. As much as she had spent sweaty nights fantasizing about what might have been, it had never been a reality in the end. He had rejected her.

Winter turned her head into Nial’s shoulder to hide from the sunset and to hide her face from Nial, too.

“Perth in forty minutes,” Nial whispered and kissed her neck, over the carotid. He paused, then licked the spot. “Don’t have unprotected sex with a human the next two days, Winter. You’re a degree hotter than you should be. You’re ovulating.”

She thumped his chest. “God, is nothing sacred with you?”

He laughed. “When it comes to humans, blood and temperature? No, there isn’t.” He traced her neck. “At least I don’t see you as food. That’s something, isn’t it?”

She sobered. “I guess…yes, that would be a challenge for you when you are first made a vampire.”

“It takes a while to see even the people we once knew as we did.” Nial picked up her hand and smoothed the back of it against his cheek. “Most of us move far away from family and friends because of that fact alone. The danger of feeding from one of them and perhaps losing control and killing them is far too high in the early days. Later on, when control is better, family and friends are mostly dead anyway.”

Winter stared at him, horrified. “No wonder Sebastian hated it so,” she whispered.

Nial nodded. “For that fact alone, a small part of him has always hated me. I gave him the freedom he so desperately sought, but he didn’t like the price attached to it.”

Winter sat up, turning in her chair to face Nial properly. “You made Sebastian.”

Nial nodded.

“When? Where?”

“Seventeen seventy-six.” Nial tilted his head to one side. “It’s not my place to tell you this story. You should ask Sebastian.”

She sat back in her chair. “Of course, Sebastian will happily sit down with me and tell me all about it.”

Nial gave a small laugh. “All the same, it is his story to tell.”

She pushed her bottom lip out.

“No matter how much you pout,” Nial added.

Winter ended up laughing. “Okay. I give up. If ever Sebastian doesn’t curse and stalk out when I walk in the room, I’ll try asking him for the story, instead.” She pushed the keyboard back onto the shelf squarely and said as off-handedly as she could, “You and Sebastian were really together for over two hundred and fifty years?”

Silence.

She looked at him. Nial was staring straight ahead at the entertainment screen, his face expressionless.

So Winter put her hand on his thigh and took a reading.

Wholesale chaos. She gasped at the maelstrom of feelings. Hate, frustration. Anger. Sadness. Sensual pleasure. Erotic joy. Simple happiness bubbling up underneath. Fury. Contentment. Underlying it all, love touched by loss.

Winter pulled her hand away, feeling like she was spying again.

Nial’s hand was quicker. He grabbed her wrist and placed her hand over his chest, above his heart. He looked her in the eye. “Yes,” he said simply. “We were together for that long.”

Winter touched the boiling stream of feelings again and fought the need to weep for his loss. For that moment she didn’t question why he searched for Sebastian.

But she did wonder why Nial would bother to dally with a human like her.

Chapter Nine

At Perth International Airport they transferred to another charter flight that Nial had arranged, this time a small private jet that flew them directly to Exmouth Airport. By the time they arrived it was eight at night and the air was dry and warm as they stepped off the small plane.

A medium-sized sedan and driver was waiting for them. “It’s been years since I drove on the left side of the road,” Nial explained.

“Me, too,” Winter confessed.

“No time to adapt, this time. So, the driver. Alas, that means no privacy.” He kissed her hard as they headed toward the car. “But I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, his voice low.

Her mons throbbed in anticipation. “You’d better,” she murmured.

He threw their luggage into the trunk and held a sheet of paper out to the driver. “We need this address in Coral Bay. How fast can we get there?”

The driver studied it. “It’s a hundred and fifty clicks to Coral Bay, mate. We’ll get there in just over ‘n hour ‘n a bit if I’m feeling inspired…if you know what I mean.” He winked.

“I can help inspire you, of course,” Nial said blandly.

“Hop in, then. Let’s see what we can do.” The man threw himself behind the wheel.

Barney, the driver (“Call me Barney, mate, everyone around ‘ere does!”), seemed cheerful and totally carefree, but he was a superb driver all the same, exuding the complete confidence of a rally driver behind the wheel. He instructed them to “strap in” and took off with a spray of blue metal chips that promised a hard, short trip to Coral Bay that would be well worth the tip.

It was pitch black by the time they reached the address—a small holiday cottage that was rented by the season, Barney explained. The cottage was dark and ominously silent.

“You wait out here,” Nial told Barney. “Our friend is the nervous sort and won’t wait to sort out who the non-combatants are.”

Barney lifted a brow. “Right you are mate,” he said easily. “If he turned the lights out when he heard you coming, I don’t want to walk into that house with you anyway.”

“Smart thinking,” Nial advised him and slid out of the car. “Winter?”

She nodded and stepped out onto the tired looking lawn with Nial. She had swapped her boots and tights for bare legs and sandals on the flight to Exmouth and now the evening breeze brushed her skin and she shivered.

“I don’t like this either,” she added as Nial shut the car door.

“That makes three of us,” Nial replied. “Still, if Sebastian is in this house, he’ll know we’re here now, so pussyfooting around is a waste of time.” He picked up her hand and strode toward the door. She had no trouble keeping up with him and realized that although he was taller than her, her legs were almost as long as his.

Nial thudded on the front door. It swayed open as his fist impacted on it.

Winter stepped back half a pace, more terrified by the gaping door than the silence.

“Damn,” Nial muttered.

“What?” she whispered.

“I think…I suspect he has gone. Something has happened. He has been scared away, maybe.” Nial looked grim in the moonlight. He let go of her hand and pushed the door open. She didn’t fail to notice that the movement put her behind him. “This place feels empty.”

She agreed with his gut feeling. “Let’s go through the motions anyway,” she said. “We check from room to room and eliminate every corner.”

He nodded and pushed forward through the door. Just inside he reached to his left. Winter could see surprisingly well in the dark and realized with a start that Sebastian had given her more than his eye color. He had endowed her with enhanced vision.

“Don’t turn the lights on,” she whispered, clutching at Nial’s arm.

“You can see?”

“Well enough, yes.”

“Thanks to Sebastian,” he breathed.

She nodded.

Nial turned and moved through the front room. It seemed to be a lounge and dining room combined and led on to a simple kitchen. The kitchen was clean, but there was evidence of human occupation. A pot stood on the stove and a bowl on the divider between the kitchen and dining area, ready to receive the cooked food. A bowl of oranges sat at the end of the counter.

“Cooking is not something he’s ever had to tackle before now,” Nial murmured.

“He left in the middle of preparing a meal,” Winter pointed out.

“Very much in a hurry,” Nial said grimly. “Something tipped him off. What and how long ago?”

Winter picked up the empty can at the top of the open trashcan. “Chicken soup. Oranges. Homemade remedies. He was feeling sick, Nial.”

“The rest of the house,” he replied evenly. “Then we speculate.”

There was a single bedroom tucked away at the back of the tiny house and an even smaller bathroom ran off that. The bathroom included laundry equipment. Both were quite empty.

“Basement?” Winter suggested.

“Australian houses don’t have basements,” Nial returned in a normal voice. He moved back into the bedroom. “I’m turning on a light,” he warned and pressed the small rocker switch.

She blinked at the bright glare and realized that her vision had naturally adjusted to the dark to the point where it seemed quite light. Now, normal light was almost overpowering. She threw up her arm, protecting her eyes, until the light backed off. Finally, she felt it was safe to look around.

Nial was watching her. “Real light will give you some colors in the blue range and some depth perception that your night vision won’t,” he told her. “But your night vision will give you perception of movement far better than real light vision will. If you’re in danger, take out the lights. Humans—” He hesitated. “Normal humans can’t operate in the dark at all.”

Winter nodded. There were points in his brief lecture that could provoke hours of discussion, but now was not the time to open that conversation up. She resisted the need to argue or protest and instead looked around the small bedroom. “He certainly wasn’t living as well as he did in New York. Do we even have the right place?”

The bed was a tangle of sheets and blankets. The sheets were cheap cotton and the cover was a faded yellow chenille, with missing tufts and half the fringing gone.

The door to the small stand-alone wardrobe hung ajar—more evidence of hasty flight. There was a painted wood bureau in the corner, but no other furniture. The floor was linoleum, a dull grey speckle.

Winter opened the wardrobe door further. A shirt lay on the bottom of the unit and she caught her breath, for she recognized it.

“It’s the right place,” she said and picked up the shirt. It was one she had seen Sebastian wear on numerous occasions when they weren’t working a job or role playing for some other reason. A down-time shirt. A favorite for comfort and ease.

She lifted it to her face and sniffed and was instantly immersed in his scent. Memories cascaded through her mind like rifling playing cards.

Waiting for the new partner to arrive for the job she had pulled in Milan. It had been a high stakes job needing two people and she had heard of Sebastian here and there a couple of times, but it had taken a lot of juice to track him down. It had taken surprisingly little talking after that, though, to get him to agree to the job. The talk had all been through representatives, as these things often were. So her first real glimpse of Sebastian had been at the seven-star Town House Galleria in downtown Milan, just before the job. She wore a couture gown to blend in.

Sebastian—she assumed it was Sebastian—wore snug jeans and a well-washed collarless shirt and slid over the arm of the chair next to her, onto the cushions, his arm flung over the other chair arm. “You have to be her,” he said simply, in a rich upper English accent, fixing her with green eyes that seemed limpid.

Then, after the first job, another two-man job appeared and this time it was Sebastian who suggested they grab it for themselves. Winter couldn’t find a reason to say no, especially when he was sitting cross-legged on the barstool, his head on his hand, elbow on the bar, staring at her, his shirt sleeve rolled and pushed back to his elbows to show his forearm and strong wrist.

But just this job, she insisted, with no idea that ‘just one more’ would last for two years.

So many after-job times, too. The quiet peace when her inner storm was at bay. Sebastian and movies—so many movies she didn’t know and had to catch up on, according to him. Popcorn, which she secretly hated and didn’t have the heart to tell him.

Winter could feel her eyes burning with the buildup of tears and shoved the shirt at Nial. “This is Sebastian’s,” she told him and walked out into the kitchen where it was nice and dark.

She clutched the counter, fighting hard not to cry. Remembering about the stupid popcorn was just making it worse.

“We need to leave,” Nial said from behind her.

“Good,” she said and straightened up. Her eyes were dry, for which she was grateful. She could turn and face him.

Nial stood at the bedroom door, still holding the shirt. He’d turned off the light. “Ready?”

She nodded and headed for the door. “Where are we going?”

“Back to Perth for now. We’ll figure out the direction on the way there.” He spoke with a touch of remoteness.

Barney was waiting beside the car, his arms crossed, his bright eyes alert and interested as they came down the narrow concrete tiles that made up the front path. “Nothing, eh?” he surmised. “Bugger. Whatcha plan to do now?”

“Back to the airport,” Nial said simply. “Our friend won’t stay in the country. We need to figure out where he would have gone to and follow.”

“Right you are, then.” Barney opened the door for them and climbed behind the wheel. “Figure out what made him skip?” he asked as he started the motor.

Nial frowned. “The police checking on him must have done something to alert him. It’s the only thing I can think of.”

“The police?” Barney sighed. “That’s where you went wrong, mate, lemme tell ya. The police around here are just one person, plus recruits for the busy season, and he’s into his own home brew on a way too regular basis, if you get my drift.”

“I get it,” Nial said.

“If you asked ‘im to check out something on the sly before you got ‘ere, then he for sure tipped off yer mate. Bruce is good for arresting drunk tourists and hauling truckies off each other on a Saturday night, but he’s not exactly subtle, ya know?”

Nial sat back in the corner of the seat. “Then Sebastian could be anywhere from hours to days ahead of us.”

Barney shrugged. “Yours is the only private charter in or out in the last week, mate. The last commercial flight was yesterday. That was it for the last two days.”

Yesterday. Twenty-four hours.

Now they just had to figure out which direction he had taken.

Winter stayed in her corner of the seat and left Nial alone in his, puzzled by his remoteness and filled with her own misery over Sebastian. She had not thought it was possible to be hit so hard by memories, especially brought on by something so simple as scent.

The shirt sat on the seat between them, a mute accusation that glowed in the light of the moon that beamed through the back window of the car.

The night was gorgeous, with a starry sky and balmy air. Winter rolled down her window to let in the sounds and smells of the country. It appeared this was going to be the sum total of her time in Australia, this trip. She might as well enjoy it. It was her first time on the west coast. Her tiny glimpse of it made her want to return.

Barney, sensing their urgency, made the journey back to the airport just as smartly as the trip to Coral Bay. He brought the car to the steps of the waiting jet and bounced out to open the door for them.

Nial dug into his pocket, preparing to pay the man, along with his promised tip, so Winter slid past and climbed up the steps woodenly, more than ready to strap in for the flight back to Perth.

The captain was sitting in one of the chairs but got to his feet when she appeared. “Miss,” he acknowledged, straightening his tie.

“We’ll be returning to Perth,” she told him.

“I’ll file the flight plan immediately and get clearance.” He headed into the cockpit.

The co-pilot got to his feet, more awkward and younger and nodded. “We’re refueled and ready to go,” he told her. “We should be able to get airborne in about ten minutes.”

“Great,” she told him.

He edged past her and pushed his way into the cockpit, too, leaving her standing in the cabin alone.

Did she really look that scary?

Nial stepped into the cabin behind her and she turned to him gratefully.

“Do not touch me,” he said, stepping back a half-pace, to put himself out of her reach.

Winter rode out the hurt that slashed through her as she re-interpreted Nial’s frosty silence in the car and saw it for what it really was. Truth once again provided pain and disillusionment for her. She nodded slowly. “Sebastian will be fine,” she told Nial. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him in time.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Fine,” he said roughly and stalked over to one of the chairs and sat down. He pulled the soft satchel that held his notebook over toward himself and set the computer up on his knees.

Moving awkwardly and feeling like a wooden puppet, Winter stepped over to one of the seats furthest from Nial and strapped herself in. The ring on her left hand tapped musically on the buckle of the seat belt and she lifted her hand to look at the ring again.

It wasn’t a modern Claddagh ring. It was a solid gold band and the traditional heart and crown were carved into the gold in relief. If Nial really had turned Sebastian in the late eighteenth century, then it made sense that the ring itself would be at least that old, if it had been Sebastian’s mother’s ring.

Claddagh. Ireland.

“Nial. Sebastian’s going to Ireland.”

Nial looked up from his laptop, frowning.

She held up the ring. “Was he born there? Is there some tiny little getaway, some village, some cottage he thinks you don’t know about where he would hole up if he was sick? Maybe where his mother died?”

Nial’s frown smoothed out. “Yes,” he said simply.

Chapter Ten

The cottage had dry walls and roses growing up the south wall, a thatch roof with attic windows punching through it and a garden growing around it that tourists would stop to take pictures of in the summer. The road that ran passed the front of it used to have cobblestones, but had been overlaid with bitumen only ten years ago—so said the village policeman who gave Winter long-winded directions. There was a tor right behind the cottage, which separated the cottage from the rest of the village and ensured that modern urban development would never take over this ancient corner of the world.

Low dark clouds had settled in by the time they reached the cottage and fine mist—not quite rain—settled on everything.

“Now I remember what I hate about soggy old Ireland,” Nial muttered, looking up at the clouds that seemed so low Winter could reach up and touch them.

“It’s stunning,” she dared to confess.

“For the first hour or two,” he agreed. “Try twenty years of it.” He pushed open the low garden gate and stepped aside for her to enter while he looked the cottage over. “This was his family’s. I wonder how he got it back?”

“His family’s?” Winter questioned.

“Never mind,” Nial said, shaking his head.

She hid her frustration and disappointment. It just one more of the same fractured conversations she had been having with Nial since they had left Australia. She didn’t know how to break the cycle of stop-start dialogue. Every attempt had failed so far and he had been scrupulous about avoiding her touch, so she couldn’t get a reading on his feelings.

She walked up the path lined with rosebushes heavy with old fashioned roses, lavender and other flowers she couldn’t name but were heavy with scent, pretty, pink and white, blue and mauve, lavender and red and more. It was an artist’s dream.

The door of the cottage was whitewashed and faded, with a doorknocker in twisted iron that was also worn with honest age. She knocked, using the knocker.

Silence greeted them.

“How sure are you that he’s here, Nial?”

“It’s a guess, but how sure were you about Ningaloo?”

“It was a guess,” she admitted. “But based on everything I know about Sebastian, it just…fit.”

Nial nodded. “So does this. Especially after you pointed out about the ring and his mother.”

“Do we force our way inside, then?”

“From what I know about these types of villages—” Nial turned the handle on the door and it opened.

“You’re kidding! Even in this day and age?”

“Even now,” Nial agreed. He pushed the door open wide and indicated she should go inside.

Winter stepped up onto the worn, uneven steps and into the cottage. The room beyond was furnished with a pair of armchairs facing the fire and that was all there was room for. There was a door into a kitchen, beyond, and another door, further to the left, with two wooden steps leading up to it.  The door clearly led to the rest of the cottage. The cottage looked picturesque on the outside, but that made one forgot that the inside was very short on space.

“Up,” Nial murmured.

Winter agreed. She veered to the left, skirting the two chairs and the silent fireplace, and grasped the big old-fashioned doorknob on the door and opened it.

Immediately beyond it, a twisting set of narrow stairs began. Winter let out her breath and realized that tension was winding itself tighter inside her with each passing second.

Up.

She began to climb, trying to do it silently, but her boots clattered no matter what she did. Nial followed more quietly and she was aware that he must be getting an eyeful of her legs on the steep stairs.

At the top there was a tiny landing and two paneled doors. One stood open and bright light from the setting sun, lower than the clouds now, shone through it.

“He’s in there,” Nial said, putting his hand on the closed door.

“How do you know?” Winter asked.

“Morning sunlight shines in that room and it’s bigger. Plus the door is shut. He’s in there.”

Winter grasped the big oval doorknob and twisted it open. The door squeaked open, showing a room dim with the day, beyond. Leadlight windows and lace curtains revealed a big hand-carved bed covered with an embroidered eiderdown duvet.

Sebastian lay beneath it, his eyes closed. He didn’t move as they stepped further into the room.

Nial kneeled on the bed and shook his shoulder. “Sebastian.”

The movement rocked Sebastian enough that he rolled onto his back. He appeared to be unconscious.

Nial looked at Winter. “Quickly. Can you tell what the problem is?”

She clambered onto the big bed and picked up Sebastian’s hand. Immediately she felt life, but so faint and weak it frightened her. “He’s barely there,” she whispered. “His heart beats, but it labors to do so. It’s like he’s trying to let go.”

“Is he unconscious?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never seen this state before. I can’t even give it a name.”

Nial stared down at Sebastian, a tiny furrow between his brows.

Outside, thunder rolled. Rain began to patter at the windows. Winter shivered. It hadn’t been nearly this cold in her house in Montana, despite the lingering snow on the mountains and the late start to the summer. “It’s cold in here,” she observed.

“These old places don’t have central heating.” Nial looked around. “I’ll get a fire going downstairs. It’ll be set up to feed all the rooms with hot air.” He moved off the bed again and headed for the door. “Come here for a minute, Winter.”

She touched Sebastian’s cold shoulder before backing off the bed herself and following Nial out of the room. He shut the bedroom door behind her and made sure it was latched properly.

Then he stole her breath in surprise by gathering her in his arms and pressing her up against the door with his long hard body and kissing her furiously.

For seconds, moments, Winter could barely breathe as her surprise had taken all the air from her lungs and Nial was stealing what little she could gather for herself. Then she managed to draw a decent breath as he lifted his mouth from hers to press his lips against her face, her eyes, her cheeks, her throat.

She moaned her pleasure aloud and clung to him as he continued to stroke her throat with his tongue and lips, driving her crazy, making her want him, making her body ache.

“Nial,” she begged helplessly.

He pressed himself up against her, pushing her into the door. His eyes gazed into hers. “You must go to Sebastian. You must be with him. Stay with him.”

“Be with…?”

“Something about you completes the symbiosis,” Nial added. “Something you must…provide, to keep Sebastian alive. You have to figure it out.”

She let her hands drop away from him. “You’re giving me to him.”

Nial shook his head. “I don’t want to.”

“But if that is what is needed…”

He looked away.

Winter reached out to touch him, to reach inside. Nial abruptly backed away, letting her go. When had he got so good at knowing when she was reading him?

“If you don’t let me see, I won’t go in there,” she told him flatly.

In the dim light of the landing, his eyes seemed to almost glow as he moved slowly closer. “You’ll regret this, Winter,” he breathed and kissed her again. His hand cupped her cheek, the big thumb resting high up against her cheekbone.

Winter thrust herself inside. It was the first time she had invaded his body for nearly two days—since they had left Coral Bay.

Chaotic feelings pummeled her in a windstorm of bio-chemical reactions that because she had spent a lifetime reading them, it was like reading Braille—she interpreted them just as easily.

Despair and anger she had expected. Love, too, and the painful sense of raw loss. Shockingly, there was resentment there. Resentment. From Nial, one of the most resourceful individuals she had ever met. And buried deep, so deep she could barely…Winter struggled to more finely tune her senses, for a layer of dull fury and helplessness lay over all of it, like a smothering fog.

Nial lifted his lips from hers. “You wanted truth,” he reminded her.

The door behind her opened.

“No, Nial, not yet—!”

But he gently nudged her through and the door closed on her.

* * *

It was dark and growing darker in the room so Winter turned on the old-fashioned lamp next to the bed. It was sitting on a beautiful piece of lace and the lamp itself was probably a valuable antique, too.

She considered Sebastian’s still form and wondered where to start. There was no hint inside his body to give her guidance. His cold flesh was completely unresponsive.

Winter shuddered again and that gave her a partway useful interim idea. She needed to get warm until Nial got the fire going downstairs. So did Sebastian.

She stripped her boots and jacket and eased herself under the eiderdown next to Sebastian. She rolled him onto his side again and tucked herself up against his back. He felt cool against her, which wasn’t good. At the very least warming him up was a good idea. She reached inside him and encouraged his metabolism along, which would give him extra warmth, too. It was hard to push it any faster in his current state, but it cranked up a notch or two and she was pleased. Any response at all from him was a small victory.

He was wearing a tee-shirt and jeans—more signs of how ill he’d been when he’d arrived in Ireland. He’d barely been able to undress. Winter rubbed his flesh where she could reach—his arms and stomach and chest and back, trying to warm the flesh and encourage circulation manually, as she couldn’t nudge it internally. She worked her knuckles over his thighs through the denim of his jeans, massaging the flesh that way.

The work warmed her as well.

After a while, she realized that the eiderdown had slid down her body as she worked, but the air wasn’t biting into her flesh as it had been when they had first arrived. Nial had got the fire working well, then.

She checked Sebastian’s internal readings once more. They still seemed dormant, but his body temperature was up. Surely that was a good sign?

Winter wrapped her arms around him and rested for a while, trying to think things through and figure out a next step to try. In New York, when it had been her turn, they had accidently discovered what she had needed. No…she had taken what she needed. She had been awake though. Aware. Able to reach for what she needed. Sebastian could well slip into a real human coma and then death simply because he wasn’t able to reach for what he needed.

But why hadn’t he reached for what he needed weeks ago? Why hadn’t he called?

The heat of a human body against her back and filtered sunshine on her face told her she had fallen asleep—deeply asleep with one of those asleep-one-moment-awake-ten-hours-later sleeps that only the truly exhausted or truly jet-lagged manage to pull off.

Nial was watching her. He sat in the tiny chair under the window, arms crossed, freshly bathed, in clean clothes.  He looked relaxed and very pleased with himself.

She blinked and tried to sit up. “Sebas—”

Nial put a finger to his lips. “He’s sleeping,” he murmured.

She tried to look over her shoulder, but Sebastian’s arm was heavy over her waist and his leg was thrown over her thighs. She was locked down tight.

“Sleeping?” she murmured. She eased inside Sebastian’s body to check for herself and found, to her delight, that Nial was right. Sebastian was just sleeping. She began to smile. “Well, fabulous. But I really need the bathroom.”

“It’s outside,” Nial said gravely.

Her jaw dropped. “You’re kidding!”

He nodded. “I am. They built an addition off the kitchen, but it looks like it’s only a few years old. If you’d come here a few years ago you would have been going outside.”

Winter tried to pull herself out from under Sebastian’s deadweight and failed. She exhaled heavily. “This is ridiculous. Nial, can you…I can’t believe I have to ask you, but can you help me get out from under him?”

Nial’s expression was delighted mix of devilment. “Aren’t you right where you always wanted to be, hmmm?”

She blew him a soft raspberry. “Unconscious men are an especial turn on of mine, yes.” She tried again to move Sebastian’s arm and failed. “Nial?”

He gave a soft, almost soundless laugh and flipped the eiderdown back enough to slide onto the mattress alongside her.

“What are you doing?” she demanded in a harsh whisper.

“Helping,” he said blandly. “You do want my help, yes?”

Winter caught her breath. She lay tangled in the limbs of one man, while another pressed up close to her. Her body seemed to ignite and burn with a white hot flame as erotic possibilities danced in her mind. She was almost afraid to look Nial in the eye in case he read those thoughts in hers.

Honesty, she told herself and caught his gaze. She shifted her hand a fraction of an inch to touch his fingers.

Heat. Super-charged arousal.

Hope.

She heard herself gasp. It was ragged. But she was caught by the look in Nial’s eyes. So mixed. So confusing.

“I’m not who you think I am, Winter,” he whispered. “I never was.” He kissed her, his tongue thrusting deep.

Then he lifted Sebastian’s arm and leg and lifted her over him so she could dash downstairs to the bathroom. Her last glimpse as she left the bedroom was Nial studying Sebastian’s sleeping face.

It jolted her and made her remember that the emotions she read in Nial did not come with tags. They weren’t memories. She had no way to know who Nial was experiencing the emotions for. If he was feeling lust it could be for Sebastian or for her. The same with any emotion she read in him. Just because the emotion was present, she couldn’t assume that he was feeling it for her.

So when she came out of the bathroom, instead of heading back to the bedroom, she decided to make breakfast, instead. It suddenly seemed safer.

I’m not who you think I am, Winter. Was that a warning, now that Sebastian had been returned to him?  But that was exactly the sort of man she had assumed him to be…

Confused, she tried to drop the subject, but her mind wouldn’t leave it alone. Like a sore tooth, her mind kept going back to prod it, over and over, until it throbbed painfully.

By the time she sat down to tea and toast at the tiny little breakfast bar, she was grumpy as hell. Just as she took the first mouthful of tea, Nial strolled into the kitchen. He pulled up the fragile second bar stool and sat next to her.

Her appetite fled. Her mood darkened. It didn’t help that her body seemed to want to reach out to him and wrap itself around him as tightly as possible. She pulse with need. Damn.

Nial was wearing jeans. But not just any jeans. Black ones. Midnight black. Designer. Sophisticated. Stretch. They stretched over every muscle in his thighs and butt and emphasized every long inch of his legs. His shirt was charcoal black and seemed to lay limp and cling to every inch of his flesh as if it couldn’t get enough of him.

She knew the feeling.

He dipped his forefinger into her tea and licked it. “Irish breakfast and cream. Mmm.”

She sighed. “Do you do this with all your human dates?”

“I don’t date humans. Sebastian is just starting to wake. He’ll be down in a minute, I’m guessing. The smell of toast will bring him here, guaranteed.”

Winter stared at him, trying to process his first incredible statement. Did that mean she was a rare exception or that he didn’t consider her human? Or something else entirely? They weren’t ‘dating’? It was too convoluted a statement to begin to interpret it without further clarification and Nial was already beginning to close up on her.

“Bloody brilliant,” Sebastian said from the door. “The two people I’m trying my hardest to get away from and they’re in my bloody kitchen, eating my bloody bread, half-way around the fucking globe from where I left them.”

Chapter Eleven

Sebastian’s hair was tousled and his eyes sleepy.  His tee-shirt was crumpled from long wear and sleep but otherwise, he looked so healthy—and pissed—that Winter felt tears pricking her eyes at how excessively normal he looked.

Nial turned on his stool. “Only one of us is stealing your daily bread, Sebastian. As she is the one that saved your life, I’d be a bit more grateful, if I were you.”

Sebastian ruffled his hair, frowning. “What?”

“What date is today?” Nial asked.

“Twenty-second, isn’t it?”

“It’s Friday. The twenty-third. You lost a day, Sebastian. The symbiosis is two-way. Winter must have your blood, much more regularly than your needs. As far as I can tell, you must have her pheromones.”

Sebastian considered that for a moment, his jaw hardening. “I must smell her,” he said flatly. Then he gave a short, hard laugh. “Perfect,” he said, in his distinct accent. “Virtually the one thing we can’t bottle.”

He moved further into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Did you leave me anything to eat?”

Nial cleared his throat. When Winter glanced at him he had a strange expression on his face and she knew it was because Sebastian was speaking of eating. It would be an odd novelty for Nial to hear such words coming from Sebastian of all people.

Winter said, “We only got here last evening, about twenty four hours behind you, we think.” It would distract Nial from thoughts of Sebastian eating, anyway.

Sebastian straightened up, turning to look at her, his eyes narrowing. “You followed me from Ningaloo. It was you two sniffing around after me, wasn’t it?”

“You were already weakening in Australia, Sebastian. What did you want us to do? Set up a death watch for you?” Nial snapped.

Sebastian shut the fridge with bang. “Bugger it,” he muttered. He turned around and picked up half of Winter’s toast and bit into it.

Winter has lost all her appetite anyway. She shoved the plate toward him. “Take it all,” she offered. “It’s your bread after all.”

Sebastian picked up the plate without comment and settled with his back against the fridge, eating ravenously. The blond locks of his hair had fallen forward over his eyes as they tended to do when he wasn’t perfectly groomed, but he was too busy eating to push them back.

Nial watched him eat with an intense fascination.

Winter gripped her teacup tightly. “It’s time you came clean, Nial.”

He barely looked at her. “Hmm?”

Sebastian did, though. “What are you talking about?”

“Nial dug me out of Montana to come find you, Sebastian. Suddenly. After how long? Four years apart? Five?”

Sebastian was studying Nial now. “Nearly four,” he said. “That is a good question,” he added. “How did you two end up in cahoots together? I would have bet even money Winter would spit on your boots than work with you. Just how did you manage to pull that off, Nial?”

Nial lifted a languid hand and let it fall again. “My natural charm, I suppose.”

Sebastian snorted. “You don’t have any.” He took another huge bite of toast, chewed furiously and swallowed. “So why did you come looking for us?”

Nial’s gaze slid toward Winter before he fixed Sebastian with a steady gaze. She saw his chest rise and fall. “I need you both for a job. One that only you two can pull off.”

“No,” she said instantly, not even thinking about it. Even before any emotion touched her.

Sebastian’s plate lowered as he stared at Nial. “You’re stark raving mad,” he said.

“You’re the best,” Nial said simply, “and this job is no joke. I need the best.”

“I’m retired,” Winter said, standing up.

“How much does it pay?” Sebastian asked.

“No!” Winter whirled to face him. “We’re not doing this! I’m not doing this!”

Sebastian rolled his eyes at her. “If he’s so desperate for the best, then he’ll pay for the best. Nial’s loaded. Don’t tell me he didn’t try to sweeten you up with luxury lollies like a first class suite on one of those seven star airlines, stretch limousines and hot and cold running waiters?”

Winter caught her breath.

Sebastian grinned. “Gotcha,” he said. “It’s pocket change for Nial. A night’s work for us if we can resist strangling each other for a few hours, plus we get to fleece him of a few of his millions. Personally, I call it a good cause. From the look forming on your face, I’d say you do, too.”

She swallowed hard. She could find nothing to say.

Sebastian dumped his plate in the sink and turned to Nial, who still sat unmoving on the stool, his feet flat on the floor.

“How much?” Sebastian repeated.

“I was hoping you’d do it as a favor for me,” Nial said mildly.

“For nothing?” Winter exclaimed, horrified.

“Jesus, Mary, Joseph…” Sebastian stalked out of the kitchen, into the front room. It seemed natural to follow him and she brushed past Nial’s knees and moved into the little room to find Sebastian gripping the back of one of the armchairs, head down.

“I don’t suppose either of you cares to know what the job is?” Nial asked, behind her.

“No,” Sebastian answered, not moving.

“I suppose you think that will change our minds?” Winter said, suddenly feeling tired.

“He’s trying to maneuver us, Winter,” Sebastian said. “If he wins our sympathy he figures he can get us to agree.”

“You might be human now, Sebastian, but you have a stake in this, too,” Nial said. “You might still give enough of a damn to want to do it.”

Sebastian held up his hand in the universal gesture for ‘stop’. “I really do not give a fuck,” he said.

“What’s he talking about?” Winter asked, puzzled.

Sebastian lifted his head. “Something to do with vampires, I imagine,” he said with great weariness.

Winter moved closer to Nial. In that tiny room it didn’t take much. A half step. A sway of her hips. But Nial was a predator. He must surely be aware of what she was doing, too. So when she reached slowly for his wrist and circled it with her fingers, he knew what she was doing and let her.

Her fingers didn’t meet, but they didn’t need to. She stood with her fingers passively cuffed against his wrist, almost like she was taking his pulse. In a way she was. A very different sort of pulse.

“What about the vampires?” she asked.

Sebastian waved the question away with his hand like he was done with the subject.

“We are going to be exposed,” Nial said evenly. “Around the world, to humans, and against our will.”

“How?” Winter said sharply, as she felt his pulse spike.

“There is a Congressional hearing coming up, arranged by a special Senate Committee led by the southern Republican Reverend James Deacon.”

“That’s the one who introduced the no-mercy bill for the death penalty in Georgia, isn’t it?” Winter asked.

“The very one,” Nial agreed dryly. “The subpoenas go out in two weeks and one of the witnesses has a high definition video of a vampire feeding that he will be presenting to the committee.”

Sebastian gave a dry laugh. “Of course you conveniently know all this ahead of time.” He looked at Winter. “He’s conning you.”

But Nial’s internals said otherwise.

“I know,” Nial told Sebastian, “Because the vampire who was caught on video told me about the committee, the hearing and the video. He’s a member of the House. A Democrat and you’ve seen his face on television probably more times than you’ve seen the current president.”

Winter held up Nial’s wrist, showing Sebastian her grip on it. “He’s telling the truth.”

Sebastian pushed his hands into his pockets. “You so sure you can tell, Winter? Vampires can control their heart beats. Did he mention that?”

No, he hadn’t.

She dropped Nial’s wrist and stepped away from him, sick horror working through her as she tried to instantaneously reassess everything that had happened over the last few days in light of the fact that Nial might have been lying to her all along.

Nial caught her arm and tried to pull her back toward him. “He’s making it worse than it sounds. We had an agreement, Winter. I lived up to it.” He glanced at Sebastian, then shook his head. “Damn it, I was honest.” He pulled her up against him and this time she had no problem feeling his racing heart. But could she believe it?

He let go of one of her arms long enough to wrap his around her back and hold her against him and it was only then she realized how hard she was trying to pull away.

“Just hear me out,” he asked, his voice low. “Please.”

His eyes were so blue, so intense.

Winter looked away…and saw that Sebastian was watching with a shocked, stunned expression on his face. She quickly turned her face from him, as guilt stabbed into her. A soft moan escaped her.

“Sebastian, do you mind?” Nial snapped, irritation thick in his voice.

“You chased me around the globe, now you want to turf me out of my own room? Think again,” Sebastian said softly.

“Very well. You get to live with the results,” Nial returned. He lifted Winter’s chin, making her meet his gaze. “You would give Sebastian a fair hearing. Why not me?”

She stopped trying to pull herself out of his grip and stood still, because he was right. If it had been Sebastian, she would have tried to listen. To understand.

Because it was Nial, she had instantly assumed he was working some sort of agenda.

Nial’s arm loosened around her back. Relief showed on his face. “Thank you,” he breathed. His fingers stroked over her cheek. Gently. “We agreed on the Lear to try and see if honesty would work. I’ve kept up my end of the bargain. I knew it was the only way to keep you here, in my arms. I didn’t want to jeopardize that.”

“But you knew all along I couldn’t get a perfect reading on you because you could change your heart beat at will. You lied by omission,” she said.

He shook his head. “I can choose to change my heart beat if I want to. Since Helena, I haven’t done so because it would ruin your monitoring. How is that lying?”

“How can I believe you?” she cried.

“Ah, the dilemma of professional liars,” Sebastian murmured.

“Shut up!” Winter threw at him. She could barely see him for the tears blurring her vision. He held up a hand in peace.

Nial turned her face back to him. “You’ll have to do what couples have been doing for time out of mind, Winter. You’ll have to trust me.”

Couples. Her heart squeezed hard at the word. She was mortally aware of Sebastian standing seven feet away, absorbing all of this…every little detail. She needed to block him out, so she rested her hand on Nial’s chest. She felt the cool, sensuous touch of silk, then pushed her way inside Nial.

He caught his breath. “That’s you in me, isn’t it? I actually felt it.”

“Sorry, but I need to be inside. Away from him.”

“I can do better than that,” he assured her and kissed her. He held nothing back. His tongue thrust into her mouth, exploring and stroking, making her moan and her head to tilt back to give him better access.

She felt her hand on Nial’s chest get squeezed between them as she was pressed up against him by his hands on her ass, cupping her and drawing her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck and indulged in the purely feminine whim of clinging to him, even as his hand slipped beneath her skirt and stroked her bare flesh, making her pelvis jerk against him.

Their heartbeats were melding, matching. Spiraling upwards.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Sebastian said, sounding disgusted.

Winter tried to yank herself out of Nial’s arms, utterly shocked. She had forgotten about Sebastian.

But Nial kept her in his arms with an iron grip. He lifted his mouth from hers and turned his head to look at Sebastian. “You refused to leave,” he said simply.

Sebastian’s face was white with anger, his hands in tight fists. “So I did,” he said evenly.

“Enough, Nial,” Winter told him and pushed against his shoulder so she could step away. Nial let her go. “This bickering is not getting us anywhere. Can we agree to treat each other with adult dignity for the next thirty minutes so we can conclude the business at hand and move on?”

Nial picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “Of course,” he said softly.

Sebastian made a soft sound. Winter glanced at him, alarmed. He was staring at her hand, his eyes filled with some nameless, pain-filled emotion.

The ring.

Winter looked to Nial for guidance on how to deal with this, but Nial was also watching Sebastian and he wasn’t letting go of her hand.

Sebastian was the first to speak. He pushed a shaky hand through his hair. “What’s wrong with letting the world know about vampires? They exist. Why hide?”

Winter stared at Sebastian, astounded. He had deliberately changed the subject. He had stepped around the one that had clearly provoked a harsh and painful reaction in him. Why?

She turned to Nial, expecting him to explain that the ring was a prop, left in place for safekeeping. It was up to Nial to explain it, not her. The ring had been left in Nial’s care.

Nial lowered her hand. “We’re having trouble keeping up the pretense these days, with electronics, security and all the IDs people need just to live. There are plans to step out and reveal ourselves. You’ve heard rumblings about them for years yourself, Sebastian.”

Sebastian nodded.

Winter stared at Nial. He was bypassing the subject, too. She looked from one to the other man, puzzled.

“Lately, the rumblings have turned into concrete plans,” Nial added. “But not like this. The video of the feeding looks brutal and if it is presented via the hearing, then we will become public enemies. There are ways to announce such things so that we will at least get a sympathetic introduction. The Reverend Deacon will make sure that vampires look like devil worshippers and baby killers.”

“At least,” Sebastian added, pushing his hands into his pockets.

“You’re going to do it,” Winter breathed.

“I don’t even know what the job is yet,” Sebastian pointed out.

“But you’re doing to do it, anyway,” Winter said. “I know that tone of yours. Nial just sold you on the job.”

Nial looked at her. “Have I sold you, Winter?”

“Winter?” Sebastian said.

She looked at him. There was no anger left in him. He just looked like the Sebastian she knew so well and watched break hearts all over the world, with his limpid green eyes and charm. He gave her a small smile. “I know you probably don’t want to do this for me. Not now. But I’m asking anyway. If you really can’t bring yourself to do it for me, then do it for Nial. Please.”

Stunned, she found herself nodding. Just like that, she was working again.

She still didn’t know the details of the job, although she could guess. Something had to be stolen and the job was dangerous and difficult.

Chapter Twelve

Once he had their agreement, Nial insisted they hurry back to New York on the first available flight—or even charter a flight if necessary.

Sebastian made a half-hearted attempt at protest, then fell in with Nial’s demands by picking up the bags he’d never got around to unpacking and announcing he was ready to go.

As Winter had never had a chance to unpack, either, she was in the same position. She zipped up her overnight bag with a dollop of resentment and glared at Nial. “Ready,” she told him.

Nial, the only one to have unpacked anything, took the longest to be ready but by the time the village taxi arrived at the front gate, he carried his bags out to the little sedan and tossed them in the open and waiting trunk, slid onto the back seat of the sedan, already chatting to someone at Dublin airport with the most sincere-sounding Irish accent Winter had ever heard, asking about flights to New York on various airlines.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and gave the driver instructions to head for Dublin airport. His accent was Irish and sounded just as genuine, but with a different regional accent from Nial’s.

“Right ye are, m’lord,” the driver told Sebastian and put the car in gear with a crunch and jerk of ancient metal.

Sebastian tapped Nial’s shoulder. “Make it a luxury line,” he said. “You can woo me with your baubles for a change. It’s been a while since I got the red carpet treatment.”

Nial rolled his eyes and turned his head to look out the window, concentrating on his conversation with the desk clerk.

Winter stared at Sebastian. “My lord?” she repeated softly.

Sebastian frowned. “They have long memories around here,” he said in an undertone. “Leave it, Winter.”

The taxi driver clucked his tongue. “Aye, we know how to properly acknowledge a peer, even if ‘e be an English one.” He swiveled his wrinkled, grey head to look at Winter. “Yon laddy don’t want you to be knowing he’s the elder son of the Earl of Knighton and rightwise Viscount Norwood all on his lonesome.”

“Paddy…” Sebastian said with a sigh. “That was over two hundred years ago.”

Winter could feel her eyes growing wider. Paddy was a vampire, too? And Sebastian…was a lord?

“What about that thing you said about more than two of you meeting at a time?” she whispered to Nial.

Nial pocketed his phone. “We’re not meeting and there’s only two of us here, technically.”

She rolled her eyes at him and he kissed her in response.

Paddy chuckled.

“Flight details?” Sebastian enquired.

“A charter to Heathrow and Singapore Airlines to New York.” Nial barely lifted his mouth away from hers to give Sebastian his answer. He kept his gaze upon Winter’s face. “You’ll enjoy this journey, too,” he said softly, just for her.

Her face flamed deep red. She couldn’t help it, even though for something as simple as this, she normally could control her reactions. The blood flushed through her surface capillaries before she had a chance to halt it.

Winter barely managed not to look at Sebastian.

“This is going to be such a fun trip,” Sebastian said dryly.

Nial grinned and touched his lips to hers lightly. His grin held all sorts of devilment.

* * *

But contrary to the mischief Nial appeared to be brewing, two hours out from Heathrow, peace reigned and Winter could feel herself starting to relax.

Nial had behaved himself since they had left Ireland. Nial on his best behavior meant he was a pleasant, good humored and charming man, getting along with everyone and refusing to create waves of any sort. He even defused tension between Sebastian and her in subtle ways that Winter barely noticed until the absence of tension between them drew her attention to what he was doing.

It hadn’t occurred to her that manipulating people might be used for positive reasons, until now, and damn but Nial was good at it. She wanted to resent him for it, but the results were so nice.

Is this what he had meant by enjoying the journey?

They had three seats all to themselves in a corner. The hostesses set a table for them and a third temporary chair for Sebastian to pull up to the table. Then the graceful hostesses placed meals in front of all three of them. Even Nial had ordered a meal for himself, taking great care over the selection, picking and choosing items with care. Winter had supposed it was part of passing as human but when his meal was set in front of him she discovered he had a different purpose in mind.

Now he had two food tasters on hand, Nial intended to take advantage of this rare and idyllic opportunity.

In between mouthfuls of her own meal, Winter would suddenly find herself confronted with bites of something from Nial’s plates. The first time, she hesitated, then chewed the morsel of duck l ‘orange and swallowed as Nial licked the fork with relish. The next mouthful was creamy mash potato and this time Nial leaned across the small table and kissed her, tasting the residue in her mouth.

Sebastian watched, astonished, his own forkful of medium-rare steak hovering in mid-air.

Nial sat back in his chair and nudged the fork towards Sebastian’s mouth. Sebastian returned to eating with a slight shake of his head. “You’ve slipped a few cogs, Nial,” he murmured.

“I’m enjoying myself. You should try it.”

“I do. Three times a day.” Sebastian held up his next bite for Nial to see. “Unlike you, I don’t pretend. I do it for real.” He put the steak in his mouth and chewed.

“If you’re really enjoying yourself so much, why are you so sour about it?” Nial asked.

Sebastian grinned, his green eyes dancing. “You know why.”

Winter looked at the two. Why? She didn’t know.

Nial’s answering smile was warm. “Relax. Eat.”

The conversation moved on, giving her no time to explore this new mystery. Besides, the two of them were at peace and getting along, especially with Nial working so hard to ensure they did. Winter didn’t want to spoil the harmony by probing a subject that was obviously painful for Sebastian.

Nial shook his head. “It is very strange watching you eat, Sebastian. It looks quite natural. But very odd.”

“Yes,” Winter agreed. “It does.”

Nial held out a honeyed carrot toward Sebastian, who shuddered. “Not those. They’re disgusting.” He glanced at Winter. “Winter has a sweet tooth. Get her to try them for you.” He glanced at Nial’s plate. “The duck. I haven’t tried that myself yet.”

Nial cut a small piece of duck and slid it into Sebastian’s mouth. He licked the fork thoughtfully. “You didn’t leave much behind to taste,” he complained.

“Next time I’ll be sure to spit on your fork for you,” Sebastian replied, deadpan.

“If I must, I’ll try a carrot for you,” Winter offered, although she was no fan of honeyed carrots, either. “But you can’t afford to disturb you digestive system, Nial. You have to be careful. No sugars, no enzymes.”

He nodded, a tiny line between his brows. Silently he held out a tiny baby carrot gleaming with dark roasted honey and spices and about to drip on the tablecloth.

Winter caught the dollop of sauce on her tongue. Wonderful flavors exploded in her mouth and she gasped as her lips closed around the carrot. Nial withdrew the fork and she chewed, aware that she was making sensual sounds and rolling her eyes.

“I’d better have one,” Sebastian said, watching her with his head cocked to one side.

“I’m not sure you’d be safe with one,” Nial murmured, his eyes narrowed as he studied her.

“Fork it over, big guy,” Sebastian said, affronted.

Winter swallowed reluctantly, delighted at the subtle flavors, spices and sweetness. “Wow!” she said.

Nial surged across the table and kissed her, both hands holding her face steady as his tongue explored her mouth, sweeping through it to taste the after effects of the spices and the sweetness.

He fell back in his chair and licked his lips. “Damn,” he murmured. “That was good.”

“Fuck, you’re not leaving me out of this one,” Sebastian swore. He stabbed at Nial’s tray, snagging a carrot and eating it. “Oh my god,” he declared.

Nial grabbed the back of Sebastian’s head and brought it forward to meet his lips.

Winter’s breath stopped.

It wasn’t really a kiss, she told herself. Nial was tasting the food.

But it was. It was a kiss all the same. His lips were pressed against Sebastian’s, just as they would have been thousands of times in the past. She was looking at what would have been.

Her body grew taut and hot with instant arousal. Just like that her clit was swollen and throbbing with the need to be petted. She ached for attention. To be taken.

For a confused moment she wasn’t sure which of the two men in front of her she wanted to have her.

Or both.

And for a split second her mind flashed on the moments in the bedroom in Ireland, when Sebastian had held her pinned to the bed and Nial had been lying next to her.

Winter’s arousal spiked harder and hotter at the thought.

Nial sat back with a grin, licking his lips with the satisfaction of a cat who had eaten cream and got away with it. “It tastes different in your mouth,” he said. Then his smile abruptly dropped and he gripped the edge of the table, his gaze unfocused.

Sebastian frowned. “Nial?”

Winter reached for Nial’s knee under the table and took a reading. There were trace levels of amylase and polysaccharides. The food had been irritating his salivary glands.

“Sweet Jesus,” she breathed. “Sebastian, pull the table out of my way. I need a better grip on him.”

“What the hell?” But he obeyed. He jumped out of his chair, folded it up and shoved it out of the way. Then he gripped the table and heaved with a slow, controlled burst of strength.

Nial’s hand fell into his lap. He sat quiet still, staring ahead like a lifeless dummy.

“What’s wrong with him?” Sebastian demanded in a soft voice designed not to carry.

Winter pushed between Nial’s knees, opened his shirt and placed her hand over his heart. She explained about the amylase and the salivary glands. “His systems are dormant.  They can’t provide the saliva we would in response to the stuff he was tasting, but they were trying to and his body was rebelling and locking down on itself.”

Sebastian pushed a hand through his hair, spilling locks around his face. “Locking down?” he repeated. “What does that mean? I’ve never seen one of us do this before.”

“I bet you’ve never seen one of you flirt with food before, either,” Winter replied. “You’re the computer expert. What happens when two programs get into a head-lock?”

“Doesn’t happen these days,” Sebastian said.

“What did you used to do, then?”

“Reboot,” he said. Then he grimaced. “I get your drift. These days we restart the program. What are you going to do?”

“Shut down the human program,” she said. “Give me a moment.”

Sebastian’s hand settled on her shoulder. “What can I do?”

“Nothing,” she said shortly. Then she reconsidered. “No, you might be useful. I’m still learning vampire biology. It’s black in there. Stay with me.”

She closed her eyes and probed.

“Can I talk?” he whispered.

“Yes. Just don’t touch me. It’ll screw up my reading. I might be slow answering. This takes concentration.”

“I bet.”

Winter found Nial’s salivary glands and set about shutting them down and repairing the inflammation and damage.

“You really let Nial coax you into his bed with a line as simple as ‘I’ll be honest’, Winter?”

“No.”

“Then how did he get you there?”

“Do you want to outline for me how this is any of your business?”

She heard his little hiss. Impatience? Frustration.

“We were friends once,” he said. “I’m not sure what we are now except that we’re utterly dependent upon each other for our lives. But I’m still…concerned about you. You did save my life twice in Singapore. I owe you for that in ways I can’t begin to count. So when Nial, the master manipulator, moves in on you…yeah, I guess I feel I have a right to ask.”

Winter absorbed Sebastian’s words. They sounded sincere enough. She suddenly wished she could touch him and measure his honesty. After all, Nial had trained Sebastian in the fine art of confidence scams, hadn’t he?

Once she had shut down Nial’s salivary glands and they were dormant once more, Winter turned her attention to getting his body to re-absorb the amylase and polysaccharides and soothing the inflammation. Once the inflammation had subsided, she suspected Nial would “wake”.

Winter opened one eye to look at Sebastian. “Nial didn’t have to coax me into his bed. I wanted to be there. I wanted him. I told him an honest seduction would get me into his bed but all his professional seduction techniques would repel me. So he settled for honesty and he got me as promised.”

Sebastian pushed his hand through his hair, mussing it again. “How on earth did you arrive at such a profound conversation in the first place?” he said, sounding astonished, pissed-off and amused all at once.

Winter smiled. Sebastian sounded like a big brother, protective and aggrieved.

“I asked her, Sebastian,” Nial said, sounding very tired. He leaned back in his seat with a sigh and Winter’s hand lost contact with his chest. “You should try it sometime. The straightforward question often gets you surprising answers.” He picked up Winter’s hand and kissed the back of it.

“You heard all of what we just said,” she told him.

“Yes. I couldn’t speak a word, but I could hear everything.”

“Fabulous,” Sebastian said dryly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Nial smiled. “Hearing is passive for both human and vampire systems. You might remember that if ever there is a next time this happens, Sebastian.”

“You’re not going to keep tasting food, are you?” Winter said, alarmed.

Nial shook his head. “Once is enough. But there might be future uses in this lesson.”

Winter stood up and stepped into the aisle. “I need a shower. Can you two not tear each other’s throats out for twenty minutes if I leave you alone?”

Nial waved his hand. “I don’t have the energy.”

Sebastian sat in her seat, studying Nial. “You’re going to have to feed soon,” he judged, speaking softly. “That took it out of you.”

Nial nodded.

Winter paused from reaching for her overnight bag. “We’re still five hours from New York. If you feed on anyone here, they’re going to notice.”

“Use me,” Sebastian said.

Nial’s gaze flickered to Winter.

Her gut wanted to tighten in alarm, but Winter couldn’t see where the danger lay. She pulled down her overnight bag, making herself moved casually. “That seems sensible,” she said. “As Sebastian is human now, you may as well take advantage of the fact. Either Sebastian or me and I’m not familiar with how it works. I might screw it up and for right now you don’t need that.”

“It’s not you who might screw it up,” Nial growled. His eyes seemed darker. The irises were smaller. Consumed by the pupils that were dilating.

Sebastian nodded. “I’m physically stronger,” he added.

Winter shuddered. “I don’t think I want any of that explained. Not now, not with Nial looking like that. Go and feed him, Sebastian. I’m going to take a shower.”

She grabbed her bag and sought one of the hostesses to arrange a shower for herself. The shower was strictly timed. Only five minutes, but she was allowed time to primp and change afterwards and just being able to wash away travel stains and change her clothes was a luxury beyond compare. She lingered, stretching and enjoying the first time she had been alone with her thoughts since Nial had appeared in her work shed four days before.

Only four days…

Or was it five? Because she had crossed the international date line at least twice now she wasn’t sure exactly how many days in her personal time line had passed. The official calendar said four days had passed but somehow she had squeezed an extra day in there by virtue of spending most of that time hanging higher than 20,000 feet over the globe and hopping time zones.

Winter packed up her bag and headed back to the far corner of the section where they were seated, feeling fresh at last and happier than she had for a while. Nial seemed content to keep the peace between everyone, instead of stirring things up and now Sebastian had thrown out the first glimmer of an olive branch between him and her. If she could follow up on that, perhaps they could bridge the yawning gap between them.

Winter realized she was feeling happy and optimistic because for the first time in a long time she had hope. It was a good feeling to have.

She stowed her overnight bag in her locker. Nial’s seat, next to her, was empty. The table next to it had been cleared and removed and all signs of the meal had gone.

“I don’t understand how you could do it, Bastian.”

It was Nial’s voice, whispering along the wall. Winter looked around, frowning. Then she glanced down along the side where her seat hugged the curved wall of the aircraft. There was a faint susurration of air-conditioned, cool air running along the port-holed wall. Air…and sound.

Nial and Sebastian must be sitting in Sebastian’s suite.

Her heart hammering, Winter deliberately sank onto her seat.

“Do what?” Sebastian said, his voice soft.

“Fall in love with her,” Nial replied.

“That? Falling in love with Winter was the easy part. In so many ways, she’s a lot like you. Then she’s so not like you. She’s like me. But then she’s so unique. So surprisingly…warm.”

Winter moaned and buried her face in her hands, but Sebastian’s voice went on relentlessly and she knew she had to hear it all now. She had chosen to listen, after all.

“It was the being in love with her that killed me. All those endless men. One after another, after another.”

“You could have left at any time.” Nial’s voice was soft and full of sympathy.

Sebastian sighed. “Couldn’t,” he said simply. “I just couldn’t. So I fucked men, women, endless, faceless hoards of them, to try to drive her and the men in her bed from my mind.” Another heavy sigh. “And now you.”

Winter pressed her fingers to her temples. Her head was about to explode.

“This is just a temporary aberration with you, Bastian. It always is. She’s mortal. You get into a muck sweat over a girl every century or so and cry about what might have been, but eventually they die and you come back to me. You always do.”

Chapter Thirteen

Winter surged from her chair and staggered the dozen or so paces that bought her, almost blindly, to Sebastian’s first class suite. She clutched the opening.

Both men were hunched over, heads together. Now they looked up, surprised.

“You should know,” she said, her whole body shaking, “that there is a weird sound dynamic in here and I just heard everything you said about me.”

Nial sat back, his chest rising and falling as he drew a deep breath.

Sebastian closed his eyes briefly and stood up. “Winter…”

She shook her head. “Nial’s right. You should have just asked, Sebastian. I would have said yes.” Her voice shook. “All those men in my bed. Know why they were there?”

He pushed a hand through his hair. “Winter…”

“Because you weren’t and I had to watch you with all those other people, night after night.”

He licked his lips. “Would you have said yes to—” and he stopped.

“To a vampire, Sebastian?” Nial finished.

Sebastian turned his head away, but not before Winter saw pain fill his eyes.

“You’re the only one who couldn’t live with being a vampire,” Nial added. “Your humanity comes with quite a price tag, doesn’t it?”

“Shut up, Nial,” Winter told him.

He shook his head. “My apologies,” he replied. “But there have been many long days and nights spent listening to Sebastian rail at me for giving him immortality. I couldn’t help hitting back for one small moment. I have my weaknesses.”

“You do,” Winter agreed coolly. “Like never dating humans.”

The tiny furrow between his brows appeared. “I’ve never—”

“Yes, you did say that, Nial. You told me you don’t date humans when we were in Ireland. You were distracted and worried about Sebastian, so I’m sure it slipped out without thought and it’s therefore a basic truth. But you’ve got a slippery mind, so what you define as human and “dating” is open to interpretation. Me, for instance. I’m mortal. Am I human?”

Sebastian leaned an elbow on the top of the suite divider. “She’s right. And you’re surprisingly exclusive, too. No bed hopping, that I recall.”

Nial’s furrow deepened even further. “And this has what to do with anything?”

Winter crossed her arms. “If you dare to presume something about me so casually, such as I’m mortal and soon gone and that Sebastian will run back to you after that, then you can damn well sit still while we dissect your life, too. If I can stand it so can you.” She could feel her eyes burning with tears and hated the female weakness for crying right then. Even her voice was wobbling and giving her away.

Nial didn’t move from the chair. “If you presume to eavesdrop, then get it right, Winter. I wasn’t speaking about you.”

“You might as well have been.”

His hand curled over the arm of the chair and his jaw rippled. “I don’t consider you human. Not exactly.”

“But I am human,” Sebastian pointed out, “and just like Winter, I’m going to shuffle off this mortal coil in sixty or so years if a bus doesn’t get me first. I think that’s something you’ve forgotten, Nial.”

Nial turned his gaze out the window. “Yes,” he said flatly. “It’s something I keep forgetting.”

Sebastian tugged on Winter’s elbow. “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink. Let’s leave him to sulk.”

He pushed her gently down the aisle toward the nose of the plane where the bar was located.

“I don’t really want a drink,” she protested.

“Then drink ginger ale,” he told her. “Leave Nial to sort it out for himself,” he advised. “Trust me.” He poured himself a whiskey and after checking with her, a glass of vintage red wine for her. They found a pair of seats by the window that were empty and settled in them.

“Sláinte,” Sebastian said and drank.

“And that means?”

“’Cheers,’ basically.” He grinned.

She smiled and sipped her wine. Then she gasped. “Oh lord.” She grimaced and looked at him. “That first feeding in New York. It takes on an entirely new meaning now. If you loved me even then…”

Sebastian lowered his glass, his smile fading. “Don’t feel too guilty. I haven’t been behaving very well through all this, either. Nial has a point. I could have handled it better if I’d been straight with you.”

“Like I was with you by telling you about my talent?”

A shadow passed over his face. “You need to be careful, Winter. There are already many vampires who do not think of you as a person. Those who think of humans merely as food they must parade amongst on a daily basis and be careful not to alarm unless they startle the herd. If you can make vampires human again, there will be even more among the undead who will think of you as the answer to their prayers and will not care what you think about the matter. They will make you their slave and use your talent for their own gains.”

“You sound like every cliché in every B-grade movie ever made.” But Winter couldn’t laugh at his expression.

He shook his head. “It’s not a joke. Nial’s been treading soft around you because he knew I probably filled you full of warnings about him and vampires in general and he didn’t want to send you running—and Nial’s one of the good guys.” He put his glass down. “This is going to sound weird, Winter. You have to watch Nial, but at the same time, you can trust him.”

“That is weird. How can you trust and not trust someone at the same time? And how can you of all people say that?”

“Because I know him best,” Sebastian said simply. “I know his intentions now. But I also know the power circles he moves in. They’re scary. I don’t—” He looked away for a moment, then brought his gaze back firmly onto her face. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

For something to scare Sebastian, it had to be terrible indeed. Winter nodded. “I’ll be careful. But won’t you be in on this job until the bitter end?”

He hesitated. “Yes. I will. But that doesn’t mean I will be joined at the hip with you. You have to watch your back. Promise me?”

“You’re mortal now,” she pointed out. “I’ll watch my back and yours, if you’ll do the same for me. I don’t want to repeat Singapore, Sebastian. I really don’t want to have to put your heart back together again a second time.”

His gaze was direct, his eyes locked on hers. “Stop breaking it, then,” he replied softly.

The air between them shifted and became still, thick and sludgy with energy and heat. Winter took a slow, miasmic breath and could feel it sizzle as she drew it into her lungs.

Her heart was scudding along.

All she could focus on were Sebastian’s eyes. His voice played in her mind. Falling in love with Winter was the easy part. It was the being in love with her that killed me. All those endless men. One after another, after another. So I fucked men, women, endless, faceless hoards of them, to try to drive her and the men in her bed from my mind.

The images of Sebastian and the faceless hoards he had entertained over the years flittered through her mind as he stared into her eyes.

Her body didn’t just throb, it was a hard, painful knot of need. If he touched her she thought she might just explode. She was surprised he couldn’t feel the heat of her arousal from where they sat.

Winter sat still, trying not to signal by so much as a millimeter anything of her need.

“I like you as a redhead.” Sebastian’s voice was hoarse, thick with desire.

“It goes with your eyes,” she replied.

“Sorry about that, but I like my eyes on you, too. You make them look much nicer, somehow.”

“It’s called makeup.”

“Should be outlawed,” he whispered.

“In some countries, it is.” Her own voice wasn’t much above a whisper, either.

Her mind connected up odd free associations and she remembered, abruptly, that on many jobs, she had stripped down naked in front of Sebastian to change into other clothes, costumes or special clothing or outerwear for the next stage. It had never occurred to her that he might mind or that he would find it a burden, or that he had anything other than a professional interest in her. He’d been that good in covering up.

“You’re blushing,” Sebastian murmured. “I’ve never seen you do that until today when Nial made you do it. Why now? Why for me?”

Her body seemed to crank up that much more tightly at the way his accent caressed the two little words ‘for me’. Winter drew in another shuddering breath of the miasmic air between them. “All those times we stripped down for a job… Have you stored up those memories, Sebastian? Are you using them for fantasy material?”

His eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise. He hesitated. Then: “Are you?” he asked, his voice low. His knuckles on the hand holding the armrest between them were white.

A hand came to rest lightly on her shoulder and if she hadn’t been on high alert already, Winter might have jumped. As it was she twisted her head sideways and up to smile at Nial, feeling like a mechanical doll.

“My apologies to you both,” Nial said. “I was grumpy and out of line. What I said was unforgiveable but I hope you will forgive me anyway.”

He had placed his hand on her shoulder so that she could read his sincerity for herself.

“I’ll forgive you if your brooding is over and done with,” Sebastian said, straightening up in his chair and facing Nial.

Nial lifted a brow. “I have come to some conclusions, yes.”

“Care to share?” Winter asked.

“He won’t,” Sebastian told her.

Nial smiled. “We seemed to be in uncharted waters. New rules have to be made. The old ones no longer serve. So I’ve made some new rules.”

“Very obscure,” Winter groused.

“I shared,” Nial pointed out.

“I warned you,” Sebastian said.

Nial picked up Winter’s hand. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course.” She glanced at Sebastian. “Excuse me.”

He held up his glass. “This is fine Irish stuff. I’ll stay right here.”

Nial held her hand as he led her back to his suite and she could feel pulsing waves of erotic excitement through his touch. As her own body had barely subsided from the hard pressure of Sebastian’s gaze, she responded to Nial’s touch with a silent moan.

He backed into his suite, drawing her in and shutting the doors behind her. There was a glint in his eyes that made her shiver.

“Nial…”

He plunged his hands into her hair and pressed his mouth against hers, his tongue pushing inside. This time, not to taste, but to invade softly and sweetly. She moaned and melted against him, unable to help the feminine surrender.

His lips travelled down her throat as his hands travelled down her back, unhooking her bra through her camisole and removing her bra and jacket, before trailing down to the hem of her skirt.

“Your hair is getting longer and thicker,” Nial murmured, his voice thick with arousal. “Very sexy.”

“What?” Startled, she blinked, trying to feel for herself.

“It’s down to your hips now. I don’t mind a bit, by the way.” He smiled.

“I’m not doing it,” she said.

“A reaction to good sex?” He reached under her skirt and tugged at her panties. “I’ll have it under your derriere by the end of the week, in that case. Come here.” He cupped her ass under the skirt and touched her forehead with his. Their hips bumped and between them she could feel his cock, heavy and thick, throbbing with promise.

His blue eyes gazed into hers. “It was not my imagination, was it? The sexual tension between you and Sebastian just then was enough that if I had been even more circumspect in my approach you would have jumped like startled rabbits.”

Winter drew in a shaky breath. “Nial, it wasn’t what you think.”

“You don’t know what I am thinking,” Nial replied.

She licked her lips. Her heart was thundering now.

“Sebastian has always wanted you. You have always wanted him. Did you talk about that?”

She shook her head.

“He had an erection he was doing his best to hide from me. Something had him powerfully aroused. What was it, Winter? Tell me.” Nial nuzzled the nape of her neck, licking and sliding his tongue over her flesh, making her shiver. His teeth snagged the strap of her camisole, pulling it off her shoulder. The camisole sagged, almost exposing her breast on that side.

“Tell me what you were talking about, you and Sebastian,” Nial coaxed and began to nibble and lick his way down toward the point of her breast, nudging the camisole out of the way as he went.

Winter clutched at his head, her eyes closing, anticipating that exquisite moment when Nial’s mouth and teeth would close around her nipple and tug…but the moment didn’t come.

She opened her eyes. Nial was staring at her. “Tell me,” he murmured, his damp forefinger running in little circles around her nipple, but not touching it.

“Nial, people can hear,” she pleaded.

“I don’t care.” He lifted her foot to the seat of the chair and slid his other fingers along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, to flutter at the opening of her pussy and the delicate folds of flesh lying over her clit. Winter gasped.

“Tell me,” Nial crooned. “What made that delicious tension between you?”

Winter let her eyes close as her body writhed and twisted, wishing the torture would end. “Fantasies,” she breathed.

“Each other’s?” Nial clarified, his fingers closing about her nipple.

“About each other…from when we worked together and didn’t know…” She moaned as his fingers slipped inside her vagina.

“Didn’t know…?” he prompted

“Didn’t know how we felt about each other.”

“You were trading stories?”

“I wanted to know…if Sebastian used memories of those times as material for fantasies.”

“Ah…an understandable concern. But why the tension?”

And finally Nial’s lips closed around her nipple and tugged. Winter moaned hard and concentrated on her fast building orgasm. It shattered over her, but before she could so much as draw breath to recover, Nial lifted her and pinned her back against the curved wall of the plane. His blue eyes drilled into her as he quickly opened his trousers and his cock sprang free.

He lifted her thighs and thrust into her with a deep stroke that made her body ripple with joy.

“Sebastian wanted to know if you fantasize about him, didn’t he?” Nial asked, his voice thick with lust. He slid into her again with slow control, making her shudder around him.

“Yes.” She whispered it.

“Do you?” His blue eyes blazed with hot passion as he thrust his cock back into her a third time.

“Nial…”

“I know you do,” he told her. “I know you spent two years fucking other men and pretending they were Bastian. Honesty, Winter.”

“Yes,” she said.

“Do you do that with me?”

“No.”

He came with a deep, low almost inaudible cry and it set off her own stunning climax, one that caught her by surprise because she hadn’t thought she was even close to coming. Nial’s orgasm sounded almost victorious. As he lowered her to the floor once more he kissed her. Hard.

Winter staggered a little.

He was smiling and he brushed her hair from her face with a gentleness he had never used with her before, except when kissing the back of her hand and that was simply a gesture in her mind. A courtly act made out of habit from an age long gone.

He sat on the chair and set her on his knees, her back against his shoulder, kissed her cheek, then slipped both straps of her camisole down her arms, exposing her breasts.

“I would give rubies to have been there when you told Sebastian you fantasize about him,” Nial said. His fingers trailed over her breasts, teasing softly, with no direct intent. Not yet, anyway. The physical man’s way of doodling. All the tension had gone from his body for now.

“I didn’t tell him,” Winter said, trying to relax despite Nial’s stroking fingertips. “You arrived right at the point where either of us would have said anything revealing or damaging.”

“Perhaps you should,” Nial said. His fingers brushed over her nipples, making her gasp. She wriggled, her body coming alive all over again. She had never had a bed partner who could make her response so quickly the way she did with Nial. She felt sexier, was greedier for sex and responded faster and recovered faster.

Her clit pounded. Winter lifted herself up on the arms of the chair and reached back for Nial’s cock, then slid down onto it, drawing in a slow breath of pleasure as she impaled herself.

“Why should I tell Sebastian?” she breathed. “It’ll just stir up angst and trouble.” She began to rock her pelvis, squeezing her internal sheath around Nial’s shaft, milking it.

He groaned, his hands holding her hips in a fevered grip, directing her movements.

Winter slid her fingers down around her clit and stroked it, softly moaning her rising pleasure.

“Yes, bring yourself around me,” Nial encouraged. “Let me feel it.”

The husky quality of his voice, the raw excitement, was enough to tip her over into a spamming, arching climax that made her buck and the pleasure to fizz and spear through her in shooting sparks. She moaned desperately as her fingers worked her clit.

Her pussy clenched around Nial’s cock and she heard him gasp as the muscled walls of her pussy undulated and coaxed him to a unique climax.

When her heart was once more quiet, Nial lifted her from him and drew her back so her head was resting on his shoulder and her feet were tucked between his thigh and the side of the chair and the arm. The contact allowed her to read him and let him see her face by simply looking down. His arm was around her back, but the other roamed over her, touching here and there where he wished.

“What started your conversation with Sebastian, Winter? It was not all talk of lust, I am sure.”

She peered into Nial’s eyes, trying to guess his thoughts, which her talent would not reveal to her. Then she thought back to the conversation with Sebastian. “No,” she admitted. “He started it. He asked me to…” She dropped her gaze. “He asked me to stop breaking his heart.”

Nial picked up her hand and kissed the back of it, then, to her surprised, turned it over and kissed her palm. “Tell Sebastian about your fantasies,” Nial said softly. “I’ve learned, these last days, that honesty can give you such unexpected bounty. Tell him.”

Chapter Fourteen

It was past nine p.m. when the limousine dropped them in front of Nial’s building in mid-town Manhattan. The doorman jumped to grab bags, then stepped back with his gloved hands to his cheeks, his eyes wide. He was a tall man, almost as tall as Sebastian, but with a pot belly that seemed to extend for a good three feet in front of him. It disguised the fact that his shoulders were just as wide under the formal doorman coat.

“Mr. Sebastian, sir!”

“Hello, Frederick,” Sebastian acknowledged. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Nearly four years!” Frederick declared. He stepped in front of Nial, who was digging in his jacket pocket. “Now don’t you worry about the driver, Mr. Nathanial. I’ll take care of that. You just go up and I’ll take care of everything. You should know better.” He actually clicked his tongue as he dug into his jacket for money to pay the driver.

Nial smiled. “It’s good to be home, Frederick. He clapped him on the shoulder. “This is Winter. Get used to seeing her around. She’s my very special guest, too.”

“Ms. Winter,” Frederick acknowledged, managing to doff an invisible cap at her plus pay the driver at the same time and not look like he was juggling anything.

Nial led her into the building. “Don’t let Frederick fool you. He has a black belt in about three different sorts of martial arts and he’s a former Colonel in the Army Rangers. He seems to know everything that goes on in this building and anything that might affect the operation of the building and he never forgets a face. He’s also superb at minding his own business. Very non-judgmental. We’ve doubled his pay three times in the last ten years. We have no intention of losing him.”

“I wouldn’t want to lose him, either,” Winter admitted. “Although now I know about him, I might try to steal him.”

“You can’t afford him,” Sebastian said as they stepped into the elevator. “I know what they pay him.”

Nial slid a card into a security slot and hit the “P”.

The penthouse. Of course.

There were fourteen floors to the building and Nial’s apartment was on the top floor. It would have a nice view, from that height. They were only a block from the park, here.

The elevator doors opened and a light came on, and Winter did a quick mental readjustment, for the entire floor was Nial’s apartment. A studio apartment, with big picture windows across the entire wall on the east side giving a night time view of Central Park and Fifth Avenue on the far side, crawling with late evening traffic.

“Nice view,” she said dryly.

“View’s better on the top floor,” Sebastian told her, pointing upwards.

She glanced to her right and saw the wrought iron spiral staircase she should have noticed right away.

The elevator chimed softly.

“Frederick with the luggage,” Sebastian warned.

She moved away from the doors, further into the room.

Nial had already crossed over to the big kitchen area where mail had been placed on the breakfast bar and was flipping through it quickly.

Sebastian turned on a lamp next to a leather armchair and fell into the chair.

The elevator doors opened and Frederick quickly and neatly piled their luggage on the floor in front of the elevator. “Have a good evening, sirs, Ms.” He nodded and disappeared.

Winter cleared her throat. “Okay, we’re alone. You’ve got us to New York at all possible speed. This is presumably a bug-free environment. I think you’ve run out of every prevarication and excuse possible, Nial. Now you get to tell us the details of the job you want us to do.”

Nial looked up from sorting his mail. “It would be easier to show you.”

Sebastian let his head fall back on the chair. “Jesus wept.”

Winter put her hands on her hips. “Now,” she said flatly.

“If you’d like,” Nial agreed. “But you might like to get changed into something dark and anonymous. We’ll be climbing rooftops to do it.”

* * *

“You’re fucking joking, right?” Sebastian said, rolling onto one side and looking at Nial.

Nial just shook his head. “I told you I needed the best.”

“The penultimate floor of the Flatiron building,” Winter said tiredly. “If you discount the Empire State Building, it’s probably the most exposed and most looked-at building in New York City.”

The three of them sat or lay on the roof of the building across the road from the Flatiron building. The building they had borrowed had a three foot high parapet wall that screened them and allowed them to observe the Flatiron anonymously. They had scaled the building from the rear, unseen by anyone on Fifth Avenue.

“It’s also one of the most secure buildings since 9-11,” Nial added, “because it’s considered a tourist attraction and a landmark. Of course, security on the second highest floor is even tighter, because the vault is there. The vault I need you to crack.”

“First time I heard there was a vault there at all,” Sebastian muttered, his head on his arm.

“It’s not so much a vault as a room with a safe,” Nial replied.

“What sort of safe?” Winter asked.

“Don’t discuss specifics,” Sebastian told her. “Start talking specifics and you’re sucked in.”

“We’re already sucked in,” she reminded him. “We’ve agreed to this.”

“Yeah, to a feasible job. Not Mission-Fucking-Impossible.”

“I’ll be with you,” Nial said, “so you’ll have a third man to use. That’ll help with the odds.”

“No way!” Sebastian exploded to his feet.

“Get down!” Winter hissed.

Nial grabbed Sebastian’s jacket and yanked him down. Hard. Sebastian grunted as Nial sat on him.

“Stay down, or I’ll make sure you stay down. Got it?”

Sebastian nodded.

“Do you have any objections to my being part of the operation that are professional in nature, or not?”

Sebastian considered for a second, then scowled. “No,” he growled.

Nial patted his cheek. “I’m glad we got that settled nicely then.” He rolled off him and sat back against the roof parapet next to Winter again. “They have an Ilco 673 safe.”

Winter sighed. “Do you know if it’s welded into place?”

“You’re not going to move it anyway,” Sebastian pointed out, sitting up. “One of those things weighs over five hundred pounds and there are three of us. Even with Nial’s strength, we’re not moving it.”

“We can’t defeat the lock unless we have twelve hours. Thermic lance?” Winter suggested.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Sebastian said with a patient tone. “You don’t have to pretend you don’t have any talent now, Winter. Can’t you just get a guard to unlock the safe?”

“Guards generally don’t know how to open safes,” Winter replied. “If I wanted to do that, we’d have to go in during the day and have an employee with security privileges do it.”

Nial straightened up. “Why not?”

Winter was horrified. “It would be a security nightmare is why not! All those civilians around…if a single guard drew a gun, they’d all be potential targets!”

Nial shook his head. “I mean, why not use an employee with privileges? Have you ever known an ambitious lawyer who clocked off at five? There’s got to be at least one of them in this bunch who is looking at this congressional hearing as his meal ticket for life. He’ll be burning the midnight oil to make a huge impression on whoever will do it for him. He’s probably there now.”

They stared at him for a minute, then almost in unison, they all turned to lean against the parapet and stare at the windows of the second last floor of the Flatiron building.

“There are at least a dozen lights still on,” Winter said.

“Some of them will be for security,” Sebastian pointed out.

“Some of them are office lights, too.” Nial looked at his watch. “It’s a quarter past ten. It’s a good bet that whoever is still here is dedicated or ambitious. We plot which offices are still occupied tonight, find out who they belong to tomorrow, and which of them has privileges.”

“We can watch each night to see who is a regular late nighter, until the night we hit. It doesn’t matter which one we use, so long as it’s one with privileges.”

Nial sat back on the roof, his back to the parapet. “If we’re going to rely on you, Winter, and there’s no delicate timing and co-ordination of teams, we can always call off the job at the last minute if our guy isn’t there and wait for the next night. We’ve got two weeks. No, sorry, ten nights, now.”

“The difficult part is getting into the building, then,” Sebastian pointed out.

Winter shrugged. “If we’re opening the safe and not breaking it, it shouldn’t be too hard. No thermic lance gear and mounds of equipment. Soft shoe in and out. We shouldn’t need weapons.”

Sebastian nodded.

“Nial?” Winter prompted.

He stirred from deep within his own thoughts. “We should go down to the street and walk Broadway and Twenty-Second.  We could see what lights are on along those sides.”

“Did you hear anything I just said?” Winter asked.

“About the thermic lance? Yes.” He got to his feet, staying crouched over and moved toward the back of the building where the fire escape was, a black shadow moving almost silently.

But Winter knew that for the first time since they had agreed to be honest, Nial had just told her a direct, cold lie. He hadn’t heard anything. Not really. He had been chasing his own thoughts and they hadn’t been happy ones.

* * *

“This is my room,” Nial said, turning on the light. The room was on the east side of the second floor and took in the promised spectacular view of Central Park, with floor to ceiling windows, hardwood floors and a bed big enough for five covered in some luxurious fabric that glowed in the soft light and picked up the colors in the rug at the foot of the bed.

“You would honor me, if you used it while you stayed here. Of course, I don’t sleep here.” He smiled. “So your sleep would be as undisturbed as I chose it to be.”

Winter narrowed her eyes. “I get cranky with anything less than seven hours of solid sleep,” she warned.

“I’ve seen her go for three days on four hours sleep. She’s conning you,” Sebastian said, behind them. “Can I use this room, Nial?” He pointed to the door opposite Nial’s.

“Of course,” Nial replied.

“That was an emergency, during a job,” Winter said, in defense. “And I slept for nearly a week afterward.”

“True,” Sebastian agreed. “It was like trying to move a log. Dead to the world.” He tossed his bags into the room and she heard them land on the hardwood floor and winced.

Nial moved into the bedroom and placed her luggage on the bed. “Help yourself to anything,” he told her, stepping past her where she stood in the doorway. “Get your seven hours.” He kissed her, taking his time with it, his hand sliding over the thick braid of her hair. Her body stirred and she sighed into his mouth.

“Enough. I just wanted to say goodnight,” he murmured against her lips.

“It is,” she whispered, her hands clenched in his sweater.

His smile reached his eyes. Warmth glowed in them. “I’ll wake you just after six,” he said and touched her lips one more time. He stepped into the corridor. “Goodnight, Sebastian.”

Winter turned around to check, as Nial moved down the corridor and disappeared down the spiral stairs.

Sebastian stood in the doorway of his room, a hand on the frame as he leaned. He had watched everything. There was a deep scowl on his face.

Winter drew in a breath, recovering. “You’re still here,” she told Sebastian.

“Yes. I am still here,” he agreed and straightened up.

“Sebastian…!” She held out her hand to stop him from shutting the door.

He lifted a brow.

She took another deep breath for courage and glanced once more at the empty stairs. “Has Nial…has he suggested to you that you tell me anything strange?”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. He moved into the corridor. “Strange how exactly?”

“Personal or intimate.”

His jaw hardened and he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Like telling me, perhaps, that you really do fantasize about me?”

Her mouth dropped open, so deep was her shock. Then she realized how he knew and her humiliation was complete. “You heard,” she said. “You heard it all.” She covered her face. “Wonderful,” she drawled, using Sebastian’s clipped accent.

Sebastian pressed her up against the wall, suddenly, with more strength than humanly possible. His hips pinned her and his hands spread hers along the wall, making it impossible for her to cover her face.

“He’s controlling you, Winter. Both of us. You can see it and still you let him do it! Why?”

“He means well,” she whispered, her heart thundering. Sebastian pressed up against her was too much for her to take. It was too many fantasies, too many erotic dreams come to life. “Sebastian…” Her voice shook.

“Do you know why he kisses and caresses you in front of me? Do you know why he did what he did on the plane when he knew very well that I would hear it?” Sebastian’s voice was low, hoarse with some emotion she couldn’t name but it may as well have been erotic need for all the difference it made. Her body was melting in response. He was hot against her. Hard. Male, strong and utterly dominant.

God, she wanted him in her so badly!

“Why?” she whispered. “Why does he do it?”

Sebastian’s mouth dipped down close to the flesh over her throat. “Because he knows I like it. He knows I like watching you two together, your hands on each other. I made the mistake of admitting that much to him and now he drives me mad with it.” He lifted his head to gaze into her eyes. “That’s the sort of perversion you’ve let into your life,” he growled. “It’s not all roses and pretty romance. I have a dark side. So does Nial.”

Winter thought she was about to go up in flames. “I have an edge, too, Bastian.” Her voice was hoarse.

He drew in a breath at her use of Nial’s pet name. “Surprise me, if you can,” he said.

“My most powerful fantasy, the one that makes me come quickest and strongest…” She had to pause to draw a breath. “It’s not you.”

His mouth hovered over her collarbone. So close she could feel his hot breath. Then he forced himself away. “Nial,” he said flatly.

“No.” She drew another quick breath. “It’s you and Nial together. Fucking each other.”

Sebastian sucked in a short hard breath. He looked toward the ceiling as if he was reaching for inspiration. His hands tightened on hers.

Then he groaned and dropped his mouth onto hers and kissed her, his body pressing hers hard against the wall. He kept her hands pinned and spread, but his kiss was an erotic assault that melted every defense she had. Winter passively accepted it, opening herself up to Sebastian’s passion willingly, unable to do anything else.

She lost herself in the kiss. It was the culmination of two years of wanting, a year of longing and loss and now these few days of mixed-up and tortured feelings. She poured her heart into it and wasn’t at all confused by whose lips were upon hers now. It was quite clear and wonderful and every bit as good as Nial’s kisses were.

The kiss ended with Sebastian’s lips resting against hers. They were both breathing far too fast. Slowly, Winter dared to open her eyes.

Sebastian drew back enough to look into her eyes. One hand curled into a fist and pummeled the wall silently and softly next to her head. “Damn it, Winter. You won’t like it where I might take you—where Nial will take you.”

“How can I know until I get there?”

“Because you’re human with a talent for healing. For good. Vampires aren’t good. They’re dark, angry creatures with no souls, who wander time and watch mortals come and go and history pass them by, while they linger on and become wretched shadows of themselves. They’re the damned, and Nial is one of the oldest of them…and you’re in his bed.”

She shivered.

Sebastian closed his eyes. “Leave him, Winter.”

“What?” she breathed, stunned.

He opened his eyes again and she gasped when she saw the tears in them. “Leave us both,” he said. “Run to some corner of the planet neither of us will ever find. Give me a mail drop and I’ll make sure you get your blood supply every month. I promise. Every three months or so we’ll meet and I’ll spend the night in the same room with you so I don’t keel over for lack of your pheromones. But leave us, Winter. Stay away from us. Keep your good life while you still can. I know what Nial is like. He’s addictive. It took me nearly fifty years to cut the cord and now I think he’s reeling me back in. He’s a thousand years old. It’s too much to fight.”

“Nearly fifteen hundred years old,” she said. “He was born in five hundred and fifty-nine, in northern Italy.”

Sebastian frowned. “He told you that?” He seemed stunned.

She nodded.

“Leave, Winter. You’re already getting in way too deep.”

“I can’t leave. It’s already too late,” she said. “I’m falling in love with him.”

A tear rolled down Sebastian’s cheek. “Then you’re damned, too.” He pushed himself off the wall and away from her. “Such a tangled knot. What romantic could possibly dream this one up?” He wiped his cheek with the heel of his hand, walked into his bedroom and shut the door very softly.

Chapter Fifteen

Even though she tried to dismiss Sebastian’s words as simply an understandable bitterness toward Nial, it still took Winter a good hour to fall asleep despite her tiredness because the dismissal didn’t work.

She could still feel Sebastian’s kiss. His heated body pressed up against hers. The silken length of his cock between them, nudging her belly, making her pussy ache to take him.

Finally, she dozed, but her dreams were shot through with imagery so disturbing, she woke after a few short hours, disoriented and groggy, until she saw Central Park through the window, heard the traffic and remembered.

She climbed out of bed and went in search of food, suddenly ravenous. Her biorhythms were all mixed up now and that was one thing she had no control over. She had to eat when her body demanded energy. It was a demand for external input that she couldn’t manufacture for herself.

At the bottom of the stairs, she paused, listening. Nial was speaking German. She knew enough German to know he was speaking finance. Was he talking to Switzerland? Zurich? Banks? That would make sense at two in the morning.

She headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge, hoping Nial had human food in there but it was virtually empty except for wine bottles. Next, she tried the cupboards and there she found a packet of cookies that hadn’t expired yet. She opened them and ate hungrily.

Nial emerged from the alcove made by the elevator shaft, where his desk and phone had to be. “There’s real food being delivered at five. I thought it would be here before you woke. I didn’t count on midnight pantry raids.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted.

His eyes narrowed. “I would have expected you to sleep like the dead after all the flying we’ve done.”

“I have things on my mind,” she said flatly.

“So do I, watching you move about in that negligee. French, is it?”

“Italian, and you’re changing the subject.”

His smile warmed. “Italian… You didn’t put it on just for me, did you?”

“And he sails right passed the redirection sign again.” Winter brushed the cookie crumbs off her hands. “Sometimes, Nial, talking to you is like herding cats.”

Nial picked up her hand. “Come here.” He pulled her around the counter and over to the big windows and turned her to face the view. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Like that, she could see his reflection in the glass if she wanted to.

“You’re not invisible,” she joked.

“But it makes a nice fantasy for the movies, doesn’t it? So when people see my reflection in a mirror, they know I can’t possibly be a vampire.”

“You mean…” She twisted a little to look at him. “All that stuff about daylight and garlic and crosses…vampires have been putting that out there all this time just so you can hide in plain sight?”

Nial nuzzled her neck, making her look out the window once more, as her neck straightened to give him access. “You of all people have to ask about something as simple as misdirection?”

“But you are immortal?”

“No.”

Fright tore through her. “But…”

“Immortals cannot die. We can. You can kill us in a small handful of ways. But outside of those ways, we live on, unchanging, for as long as time itself. It is immortality of a sort, but it comes at a price.”

Winter turned in his arms so that she could see his face. “What price?”

“Humans were never meant to live forever.” His voice was soft and the look in his eyes was haunted. “We pay the price for living virtually forever by watching those around us live and die. Enemies, cities, states, nations, civilizations. Loved ones.” Pain filled his eyes, then was gone. “There’s nothing you can do about it, but make those people you love a vampire, too, and who would be mad enough to wish this curse upon their mortal enemy, let alone their dearest love?”

“Curse?” Winter gripped his shirt. “But Nial, you have never once hinted that you believe this. Sebastian raves about vampires being cursed, but not you!”

“Sebastian never accepted this life.” Nial covered her hands with his. “I’ve had longer to come around to it.”

Winter shook him gently with her grip on his shirt. “And in the week you’ve known me, tell me how often you’ve been tempted to ask me to make you human again?”

Nial sighed. “Tempted? A hundred times.” He brushed her hair from her temple. “It is Pandora’s Box and Eve’s Apple all rolled into one. But I only need look at Sebastian to wonder what would be unleashed if you attempted the same feat with me.”

“You fear the outcomes,” she guessed.

“I am over five times older than Sebastian,” he pointed out. “Does that make a difference? There are far too many unknowns. Would it tie you to yet another unwelcome symbiosis?” He sighed. “But it is a sweet temptation, all the same.”

“You’ve forgotten one major factor,” Winter said.

“And that is?”

“I don’t think I could do it.  Not to you.”

“Why not? You would be giving me life.”

“And certain death,” she added. She bit her lip. “I already can’t bear the idea that Sebastian—” She stopped and started again. “Please don’t ask me unless you must. It will kill me to do it, but I will if you ask me because I know you have no other choice, that you must have this. But I’ll hate myself knowing that I’m handing you a d-death sentence.”

“Quis dulcis, shhh…” Nial gathered her up against him, his arms around her. She rested her head against his shoulder and unashamedly sought the comfort he offered. She slid her arms around his neck and his own tightened more.

Gradually, the need to cry tapered away to nothing and calm returned. She sighed.

“What has Sebastian been whispering in your ear?” Nial murmured.

“Why do you ask?” She lifted her head to look at him.

“I know you two spoke just before you went to bed. I heard you as I came back down the stairs.”

“You listened?” Horror washed through her.

He shook his head. “You’re entitled to privacy.”

“Like on the plane back to New York?”

“Ah…that’s what you spoke about, then.” Nial’s mouth lifted at the corners. “I wondered what was keeping you so sleep deprived.” He ran his fingertip over her face, tracing her nose and cheekbones and jaw. It was a strangely intimate and soft, erotic touch. “Did Sebastian play fair or did he dump an untimely confession on you just to add to your burdens?”

Winter flinched. “Are you toying with us?”

Nial shook his head. “I know Sebastian better than he thinks I do. He’d like all this to be about him.”

“All what?”

“All the tension and angst he is inventing and discovering. Sebastian is a romantic at heart.” Nial’s fingers swept over her throat. “So he couldn’t resist teasing you with a true confession. No wonder you’ve been tossing and turning. Did he kiss you as well?”

She sucked in a breath, her arms sagging around his neck. “God damn it, Nial. You may as well have listened in.”

He shook his head again as he ran his fingers over her now exposed collarbones and upper chest. “Sebastian is the voyeur, not me. So…he kissed you. That explains the haunted look in your eyes when you first saw me just now. You have a conscience.” He picked up the satin tie between her breasts and tugged on it. “Does this unravel the entire negligee?” The tug untied the bow and the negligee slithered off her shoulders, down to the floor about her feet.

Winter reached for Nial’s belt buckle. “That’s a two-way game, you know.”

“I do,” he agreed. “But you’ve already won the race.” His kiss and his hand closing around her breast happened at the same instant, driving her to instant lust, instant heat.

Winter moaned into his mouth, working hard to strip him of his clothes quickly. Nial twisted his limbs and torso, helping her, until he was as naked as she, when he finally let go of her mouth.

His cock jutted up from between his thighs, thick and ready, below flat abs that dipped with the hint of six pack muscles. But it was his shoulders and thighs and taut trim hips and the tight ass that Winter had trouble looking away from.

Until she looked into his eyes.

He was watching her drool.

She shrugged. “We’ve been having sex half-clothed and in public nearly all along. This is the first time I’ve got to see you all for myself, in full view.”

He smiled. “It’s refreshing to see a woman openly aroused by the sight of a man. You as a gender tend to be so coy about it.”

“We’re getting better, generation by generation.”

“True.” He trod toward her, the muscles moving under his flesh in sleek unison, making her heart leap. “But you are not the only one who paused to salivate.” He picked her up and carried her over to the big, thick area rug in front of the unused fireplace and knelt on it before placing her down gently on the velvet pile. “Tell me when you get sleepy,” he warned.

The question barely formed in her mind before he kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, a hand on her breast and the other between her thighs, sliding up to her cleft with a soft swoop across the delicate skin of her inner thigh, making her arch and moan and her legs to spread open, inviting his invasion.

He kissed his way down to her breast and sucked the tip into his mouth, biting the nipple with his teeth.

Winter fought the natural desire to close her eyes and let the passion have her. She wanted to take all the pleasure she could from watch Nial’s face and hands and body move and strive and work above her or against her.

He braced himself on his arms, so that only his hips and his heavy and silky genitals were resting against her. “Open for me,” he breathed. His eyes seemed very blue in that dim light as he looked down at her. “Let me feel you around me.”

She opened herself up, trembling with anticipation. Her clit pounded as his cock brushed against it.

Nial eased himself into her a slow inch at a time and no other part of his body touched her. Winter wriggled on the rug, all her focus on the sensations set off by Nial’s cock thrusting with controlled mastery inside her.

By the time he was fully lodged inside her, Winter was nearly hyperventilating. She clawed at his arms, at the bunched muscles there. “Faster,” she begged.

“No,” he growled, his voice low. His eyes seemed to glitter as he watched her. With the same controlled speed he withdrew and impaled her again, watching her writhe and come apart at the seams as the pressure built up around what his cock was doing to her.

On the fourth stroke Winter arched back on the rug, her fingers clawing at the soft pile, gasping. “Please, Nial,” she begged.

“No.” His voice was hoarse. From the effort to control himself or lust, it didn’t matter. But she knew he wouldn’t break. He would watch her shatter first.

On the seventh stroke, she could feel her pussy pulsing and her clit with it. Her hips thrust, jerking, as Nial pushed slowly into her again. She gave a broken cry.

“Yes,” he crooned, one hand caressing her breast. “That’s it, Winter. Come for me. I can feel how close you are.”

On the next murderously slow thrust, she climaxed with a guttural scream that she had never heard herself make in her life. Her orgasm was wrenched from deep in her belly, lifting her from the rug until only her hips remained. But Nial’s arm was around her back, supporting her as the waves of the climax rushed through her.

He lowered her back onto the soft rug and sat back, his stiff cock sliding out of her.

“No fair,” she said breathlessly.

“Oh, I’ll get my turn,” he assured her.

“You will,” she agreed and forced herself onto her hands and knees despite her shaky limbs. She crawled closer to him and pushed on Nial’s shoulder so that he was sitting on his heels, nudged his knees far apart and tossed her hair back over her shoulder.

He began to smile. “Just watching you crawl to me naked with that wicked grin and mischief in your eyes is reward enough.”

“If you’ve been rewarded, shall I stop what I’m doing?” she asked, cupping his testicles and stroking the underside.

His chest lifted as he drew in a quick breath. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

Winter nodded. “Thought so.” She kissed him then trailed her mouth down his chest to his stomach, feeling his muscles clench in reaction, then across the abdomen to the pelvis, carefully skirting his cock. She settled down between his thighs and licked and sucked each sac in turn, feeling and hearing Nial’s tension and hissing response each time. Then she nibbled and licked her way up the shaft of his cock, tasting her own juices along the way. The head throbbed as her lips drew closer and Nial gave a soft moan.

Winter closed her mouth over the entire head, drawing it deeper, deeper and deeper into her.

Nial clutched at her hair, gasping.

She finally relented, withdrawing and letting her teeth bump gently over the glans, and her tongue to stroke the seam as she sucked.

Then she began a steady in and out stroking rhythm with her lips and tongue while she stroked the base of his shaft and testicles with her hands.

Nial’s hands clenched in her hair and his hips lifted an inch or so as his excitement built. She could feel the head of his cock swelling with pre-cum and his growing orgasm and hear the change in his breathing.

“Winter,” he breathed harshly.

She reached between his thighs, further back, and delicately probed his anus with the tip of her finger. She didn’t use pressure, for she had no oil. Just enough to put pressure on the prostate.

Nial jerked and cried out with the same sort of hard, guttural cry she had made, but his was deeper. Harsher. His cock spasmed and cum hit the back of her throat in short, sharp spurts.

Winter licked Nial clean and sat up. She smiled when she saw that he was breathing hard, his body depleted of oxygen and compensating with a very human reaction.

“That smile,” he growled. “Do you know what it does to me?”

She shook her head.

Nial leaned forward and picked her up around the waist, just high enough to turn her and put her on her hands and knees. Winter barely had time to be surprised before his hands slid back to her hips and his cock pushed inside her. It was no slow insertion this time. She was slick, more than aroused and ready to receive him and Nial thrust deep into her like a sword is returned to the sheath. Quick and hard.

Winter cried out at the sudden possession.

“That is what you do to me,” Nial muttered. His hand brushed her hair out of the way and curled over her shoulder, lifting her up onto her knees. He cupped her breasts and pulled and played with the nipples and stroked the flesh, making her rub herself up against his chest, her pussy clenching around him.

His lips moved against her shoulder. “Right now, right at this moment, I don’t feel cursed at all.”

She reached back to slide her hand through his hair. “Nial…”

“Look at us,” he murmured and turned his head to look at the window.

She shifted her gaze slightly to the right and saw what Nial did. For a moment, because of the distortion of the glass reflection, she saw strangers. The impression she got from the image she saw was overwhelming passion. It bloomed and pulsed from both of them like an aura. Then she saw Nial. He was locked against her, ready to explode with…everything, her mind whispered.

The stimulus she got from that surprising glimpse made her gasp and arch back. “Oh, god!” she moaned. She grasped Nial’s hand and brought it to her clitoris. It was too late. Her climax was blooming deep in her. She gasped as his fingers pressed up against the tiny organ.

“You see what I see,” Nial murmured, his teeth brushing her neck. Then he bit her.

There was the tiniest sharp pain, then her climax seemed to explode through her system like it was on steroids. It doubled, tripled and re-energized itself, setting off chains of pleasure fireworks in nerve bundles and centres throughout her body that normally stayed quiescent.

Winter could feel her throat straining, her whole body stretching hard and taut as the climax claimed her attention. Until finally it let her be and she grew aware of the room once more, Nial’s arms, his cock inside her, his chest against her back and how bright it seemed all at once.

She blinked. Nial was licking her neck and it stung a bit.

“You bit me,” she said hoarsely.

“I also drank some of your blood,” he said. “Just a small amount. It’s a sexual thing. It makes your climax more powerful, because there’s an aphrodisiac in my bite.” He kissed her neck. “You taste wonderful, by the way.”

“That’s what happened?” She shook her head a little. “I wish I could return the favor.”

Nial chuckled. “You have already.”

That was not the last time Nial reached for her that night and Winter finally understood his warning about letting him know when she was sleepy. He was indefatigable—literally.

Winter felt no inclination to sleep and couldn’t seem to get enough of Nial. Every time they climaxed she thought that perhaps this time she would be able to let him go, but would find herself reaching for him again. She kept adjusting her body, making it adapt and heal to cope with the petty abuses of great sex.

At one point Nial lifted her onto the wide leather sofa, so that she was on her knees facing the back of it. He patted her ass. “There’s one place I haven’t taken you yet.”

Winter looked over her shoulder at him. “I haven’t…I don’t…I mean…”

Nial raised a brow. “Really?”

“I’ve tried,” she admitted. “The idea is—well, it’s appealing.”

Nial grinned. “You’re blushing.” He stroked her rear cheek slowly. “You’ve tried but clearly you have not had a gentle partner who knew what he was doing. It can be the most delightful sensation.” He leaned over her and dropped his voice so it was a low caress. “I speak from experience.” His lips seared the back of her shoulder and she shuddered. His fingers caressed her anus in a featherweight touch, but even so she bucked at the sharp pleasure that bolted through her and made her clit and pussy bloom.

“Say yes,” Nial murmured and gently pressed his finger against the ring of muscle, just as she had done to him earlier.

Winter gasped. “Yes!” she said breathlessly.

“Dilecta,” Nial said in a warm, approving tone.

Chapter Sixteen

Nial moved to the table at the end of the couch, opened the drawer there and removed a tube Winter recognized not by its label, but by intent. Lubricant.

She shivered.

He squeezed some of the gel onto his fingers.

“You make it look so…matter-of-fact,” she said, her cheeks burning.

“This?” Nial held up his fingers. “Ah! You are very much new to this, aren’t you?” He smiled. “Yes, it can be prosaic and a mood killer. Or not.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “I’d hold the back of the sofa if I were you. You’ll need the support by the time I’m done with you.”

Winter’s heart leapt. She grabbed the back of the sofa, her adrenaline rushing. This time, she didn’t interfere with the flow of it, but immersed herself in the buzz.

Nial’s hand began to explore her cleft, stroking every inch, caressing every cranny. He spent long moments circling and tugging at her clit, making it swell for him, teasing it to a hard nub. He pushed four, five, perhaps six fingers inside her pussy, and stroked the hard knot of nerves that made her tremble and moan. She lost track of the fact that he was spreading lubricant as he was teasing her. She simply clung to the sofa as his fingers reduced her to a panting, desperate heap of jellied muscles.

He stroked around her anus, a continuation of the endless teasing he had already administered and the touch of his fingers made her push back against him.

“Mmm…” he murmured. Then he slid a finger inside her.

Winter gasped. It really was a sweet sensation, utterly unlike having someone or something in her pussy. Nial was pushing against the edges of her opening, stretching it. It was uncomfortable, but never quite painful. It was almost like he knew exactly how much stretching would constitute pain and stopped just short of it.

An experienced partner….

He slid a second finger inside her and she clenched the sofa tightly, gasping. The sensation was beyond just simply being sweet now. She wanted more.

“More,” she breathed.

“Not yet,” Nial told her. “You’re not ready.” His fingers were working her, stretching her with the greatest of delicacy.

Winter was shaking. “Now,” she demanded, her voice hoarse.

“Wanton,” he breathed. He pressed his fingers against her, stretching her again. “Relax, let me in, Winter.”

Then she realized it wasn’t his fingers pushing against her, but his cock.

Her excitement spiked hard.

“Breathe,” he told her. “Relax.”

She realized that she had braced herself and consciously relaxed her body, opening herself up. Nial thrust into her fractions of an inch at a time, letting her get used to the feel of his girth, adjusting to him. As he eased himself in, Nial gently stroked her clit and pussy entrance.

It was exquisite. Winter dug her fingers into the back of the sofa, moaning.

Nial’s touched the back of her shoulder. “You are like a fist around me, dilecta. Hot and tight.”

Winter could barely speak. “I had…no idea…”

She heard his low, breezy laugh. “You have been denying yourself all this time, coniunx. Ah, the pleasures I can give you…”

She rippled from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. “Finish me now first, please.”

“If you do not finish me first. You are very tight. Virgin.” He sighed. “A delight.” He eased himself from her slowly.

“God, Nial, not that killer pace of yours again,” she said, with a moan. “Please, I don’t have the stamina for that!”

He smoothed his hand over her ass. “Trust me, you do not have the experience for anything too much faster.”

“Please, just fuck me, Nial,” she begged.

“Salvum me di,” he muttered. His hands gripped her hips. “As the lady requests.” He pushed into her. Harder. Faster.

There was a tiny amount of discomfort, but that was all. Winter threw her head back and revelled in the new sensations. She dropped a hand down to her clit and began to massage the swollen organ, bringing herself to the massive climax building in her.

“Oh, Nial, oh sweet lord!” she gasp as it hit.

A climax with a man’s cock in her anus was utterly different. It was staggeringly intense, almost frighteningly so.

The thought occurred to her as her body locked and pulsed through the waves of powerful orgasm: If climaxes with a cock in her anus were strong and so where climaxes with a man’s cock in her pussy…what would they be like with a cock in each?

Then her body unlocked and she could breathe and Nial was groaning through his own deep, hard climax as his fingers dug into her hips. The thought and the moment was lost as he clutched at her and drew her down to the rug to recover for a few moments before they cleaned up and began all over again.

The first of the summer light was starting to show in the sky when Nial flipped Winter onto her back to catch her breath and circled her breast with an indolent finger, his head propped on his elbow. “Not sleepy yet?”

She considered it. “No.”

“You’re not adjusting your biology?”

“No.”

“Hmmm…” He smiled a little. “Your jet lag is my bonus, but you will crash hard in a few hours.”

“Probably,” she agreed.

He rolled her gently onto her side and lifted her thigh so it rested over his hip. It exposed her cleft and she shivered.

“I am curious,” Nial said and eased his cock into her.

Her pussy tightened. Even though he did not thrust once he was inside her, she could feel the walls of her vagina undulating around him.

Winter licked her lips. “Curious about what?” she asked. Her voice was used, dry and husky.

Nial kissed the corner of her mouth. His hand was still playing with her breast. “Did you enjoy Sebastian’s kiss?” he asked softly.

She jumped, as Nial must have known she would, for his body held her still until she settled once more.

“Did you respond to it?” he added.

With Nial inside her, his hand on her breast, there was no way to hide her reaction, the increase in her breathing. There was no way to cover up her panic.

Nial lifted his head to look at her. He smiled a little bit. “I’ll make it easy for you to answer.”

“How?” she whispered.

He brought his lips close to her ear. “I adore Sebastian’s kisses, too.”

Images flashed through her mind. Sebastian and Nial together, as she had painted them in her imagination. Locked together, straining for release…or in quieter moments like now, sharing softer emotions. Kisses. Caresses. Swift buildup of arousals to mutual climaxes driven by their hard bodies.

The swift cascade of images rifled through her mind like a waterfall of cards, almost too quick for her consciousness to grasp, but the effect was instantaneous and unpreventable. She groaned and arched, her eyes closing and her nipples marbling into hard, erect stubs under Nial’s fingers. She could feel her pussy clenching hard, milking him.

He drew in a short, quick breath. “Ohhh…you like that idea, don’t you?” His voice was rough with his own delight. He turned her onto her back and rose above her, his eyes glittering.  He drove into her with hard, fast strokes. Winter curled her leg over his hip, encouraging him. Something like a feral growl emerged from the back of her throat.

“Harder,” she demanded. “Faster.”

Nial slid his hand under the back of her neck and lifted her head up closer to his. His canines were extended. “Come for me, dilecta.” His lips brushed against her neck. “Scream for me.”

Almost as if he commanded it, her climax struck. So did Nial, his fangs slicing into her flesh with the precision of a surgeon.  Her climax exploded through her body like a subterranean depth charge.

Winter screamed, a raw, deep sound that hurt her throat and gave vent to the almost overwhelming pleasure slamming through her. She felt Nial’s cock pump in her as he came, brought on by her own quivering pussy. She clutched at him as the waves of the orgasm ripped through her like surges of a tide, helpless under the power of it.

Until she lay limp against his arm.

Sudden exhaustion claimed her. Her eyes would barely open.

“Tired,” she whispered.

“So, you do have limits,” Nial murmured, his own voice rough and used. She felt his lips touch her temple. His cock had slipped out of her body at some point while she recovered. Now he picked her up and laid her on the sofa. “Sleep. I think you will be able to, now. Sebastian and I will scout the building and let you rest.”

She wanted to protest, but couldn’t. She didn’t have strength.

Nial dropped the blanket that had been hanging over the arm of the chair over her and put a cushion under her head.

She reached for his hand. “Wait.”

He crouched down so that his eyes were level with hers.

Winter held up his hand a mere fraction of an inch. “Calluses.” She had noticed them on and off all night and just now had put it together. “You were a house slave. When did you hold a sword long enough to get them?”

All the happiness in Nial’s expression melted like snow in spring. Until it disappeared, Winter hadn’t realized how much lighter and carefree he had become. Now his face closed over. He settled on the rug and lifted his other hand—the right hand—to look at the heavy calluses at the base of his fingers.

“I was a house slave until I was sixteen and began to grow taller and was soon higher than every man on the estate. The master at arms bargained with the slave master over a game of dice one night and the next day I was his. Two days later we marched to join the main Roman army just east of Augusta Taurinorum and that was the start of my military life. I learned how to use a sword as I marched and when we met the Lombards outside of Taurinorum, I learned more.”

“That’s conscription,” Winter whispered, forcing her eyes to stay open.

Nial shook his head. “I was a slave. I already belonged to another. I went where they told me to go.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “But now, perhaps, you begin to understand the scars on my back. Even then, I looked for a way out. I was not a docile slave nor was I a willing soldier.”

The sun pushed through clouds, dazzling Winter. She groaned and shut her eyes.

“The windows are polarized, but I could not resist an apartment that greeted the sunrise. It was too poetic.” He touched his lips to hers. “Sleep…”

She wanted to add something and struggled to remember what it was. But sleep was slipping over her much too quickly to sort out the thoughts.

There were other dim thoughts that rose briefly to the surface of her mind, but not strongly enough to stir her emotions before sinking back down.

Not until a voice she registered as Sebastian’s spoke clearly in a soft hush nearby.

“This is taking it a tad too far, Nial. You honestly expect me to work with her lying twelve feet away, half naked on the sofa?”

“You’re exaggerating as usual.” Nial’s voice was equally as soft. Winter didn’t know how far away the two of them were but she had the feeling it was further than the twelve feet Sebastian had given. He was exaggerating, just as Nial had accused him. Some sort of odd acoustic was allowing her to hear them—again.

“She’s perfectly covered up,” Nial continued. “The page three Sunshine Girl shows more flesh.”

“You know that’s not my objection.” Sebastian’s tone was tight. Controlled. Even at the low tones they were using, Sebastian sounded pissed. “Damn it, you play this game as if I don’t have a clue what you’re doing—”

“Keep your voice down,” Nial said curtly. “Winter didn’t sleep much last night.”

Sebastian gave a choking laugh. “You think I don’t know that? I didn’t lose any hearing capacity when she changed me. She got no sleep last night? It’s been a damn long night for all of us!”

Silence.

“I wasn’t aware of that,” Nial said at last, speaking slowly.

“Is that an apology?”

“For enjoying myself?”

“I should know better.” Sebastian sighed. “Well, it helps, knowing you didn’t deliberately arrange to have her draped across the leather looking so satiated and delectable just for my benefit.”

“You’re trying to make this all about you again,” Nial replied. “I did it for purely selfish reasons. I wanted to be able to look up and see her draped there and remember the night we just spent. Why else would I not take her upstairs to my far more comfortable bed?”

“Glad to hear you admit to your utterly self-centred ways at last.”

“Now if you only you would, Bastian.”

Winter had heard enough. She turned over, snuggling down deeper, letting sleep take her again.

This time, when she woke, it was because of the delicious smell of hot pancakes, bacon and coffee, along with warm maple syrup.

Her stomach protested angrily and she sat up with a hungry moan. “Please tell me some of that is for me?”

“Half of it,” Sebastian said. He sat the end of the breakfast bar, a coffee mug in his hand, a fork in the other. “But you’d better hurry, I’m still hungry and you did steal my bread in Ireland.”

Winter tried to wrap the blanket around her, but there was too much of it.

“Here,” Nial said from behind her.

She turned. He was holding out a royal blue silk robe that had to be his. He passed it between her and Sebastian, holding it like a shield, which allowed her to drop the blanket and slide her arms into the robe. Nial closed it for her, pulled her closer to him by his grip on the front of it and kissed her. “Good afternoon,” he said. “Enjoy your breakfast.”

“You’re not staying?”

He shook his head. “Too tempting,” he said shortly. “Especially the coffee.” He pushed a cell phone and wallet into a light jacket and put it on. “I have an appointment with one of our hopeful contenders. I have a legal crisis only he can fix and have snagged myself a meeting at one-thirty.” He backed up a few steps. “Sebastian has agreed to behave himself.”

Winter tilted her head and turned to look at Sebastian, who rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I can take care of Sebastian,” she told Nial, as he pressed the button for the elevator.

“I know you can,” Nial replied. He stepped into the elevator as the doors opened. “Don’t be too rough on him.”

Sebastian snorted.

Winter settled onto a stool, leaving one empty between her and Sebastian, and reached for the remainder of the bacon and pancakes. She had to roll the sleeves of the robe up her arms to do it. They were much too long.

Sebastian pushed the syrup toward her. “You like it sweet, I remember.”

“Not always,” she replied. “But this morning, yes. I’m betting this is the best maple syrup in the world and it’s irresistible, warmed.” She poured it over her pancakes and began to eat with gusto.

Sebastian poured a cup of coffee and placed it in front of her. “I need to apologize for last night.” He sat back at the end of the bar and folded his hands flat on the marble.

Winter was too hungry to stop eating, but she borrowed one of Nial’s habits instead. She lifted her brow at Sebastian.

“The kiss. The confession. You shouldn’t have had to put up with either of them.”

Winter hurriedly swallowed her mouthful. “Did Nial say something to you?”

He grew still and his expression wary. “Why do you ask that?”

“You used almost exactly the same language as he did. ‘Kiss.’ ‘Confession.’ And the idea of burdening me with them.”

Sebastian grimaced. “I can’t have an honourable thought of my own?”

Winter relented. “I’m sorry. That’s unfair. Perhaps all the conspiracy theories around here are rubbing off on me.”

Sebastian shrugged and picked up his coffee cup again. “It’s the profession we’re in. It spills over.” He sipped. “Finish eating, then I’ll show you where we’re up to. I’ve got a blueprint of the Flatiron building for you and Nial built profiles of our five candidates this morning.”

They slid easily and seamlessly into professional talk as she ate. It was almost like the last year had never happened and Winter could feel herself relaxing back into the old roles she used to play with Sebastian. The old friendship.

It felt good. It felt so good.

She lingered at the bar after she had finished eating and knew it was because she didn’t want to break the spell. Then she hurried through her shower, mentally laughing at herself because she was hurrying get back to playing at being the old Winter. Winter and Sebastian, team mates once more.

She even dithered over what to wear and in the end settled for what she always wore when she was at her apartment and planning a job: black low rise yoga pants that gave her maximum flexibility, and a black stretch tank top. Until now, she hadn’t been aware of how many inches stretched between the hem of the top and the band of the pants. She was tempted to wear a bra under the top, but she never had before and Sebastian would notice—what would it say to him if she wore one now?

How had she been so oblivious about her choice of clothing before?

How had she been so blind to Sebastian’s feelings before?

Because he had hidden them from her. It was a two way street, she realized. It hadn’t been just up to her to notice. Sebastian had to let her see.

She had locked away the true depth of her love for him, too. It was just safer that way and it still was.

“Just like old times,” Winter murmured to the empty room. She sighed and went downstairs, her joy back under control.

Sebastian was studying blueprints for the Flatiron building, spread out over the dining room table. He straightened up as she approached, his gaze flicking over her. “These are updated and current,” he told her. “I’d love to know how Nial got hold of them so quickly, but I’m sure he’ll say something like ‘don’t ask,’ so I didn’t bother asking.”

“Pessimist.”

“Is your hair getting longer?”

“Yes.” She pushed it back over her shoulder.

“I love it,” Sebastian declared. “I really do.”

“Well, I’m kinda stuck with it.” She cleared her throat, bent over the table and began to study the blueprints. Sebastian started pointing out the entrances and exits, weak points and all the other points that Winter would find of interest and the conversation slid back into normal work stuff. The tension left the room.

Later, she sat at Nial’s desk and started reading the profiles he had written on his computer. They were solid, workmanlike documents that gave her everything she needed to deal with any of the lawyers she might meet in the corridors—enough information to approach them closely enough to touch them and not alert them until it was too late.

Absorbed, she read, trying to memorise information and catalogue it.

“Is the ring bothering you?” Sebastian asked, placing fresh coffee next to her.

Winter glanced at the Claddagh ring on the desktop next to the keyboard. “No, but the skin on my finger underneath it is all pruned from the shower. I’m just letting it dry out.”

Sebastian picked up the ring. “I’d rather you wear the ring and suffer the inconvenience.”

“I know it has value to you.”

Sebastian sat on the edge of the desk with the ring on his palm. “Nial didn’t tell you anything about it, did he?”

She shook her head.

“Typical.” Sebastian showed her the inside of the ring. “See the initials there?”

She saw tiny letters that looked like scratch marks. An “R” and an “I”.

“They stand for ‘Richard Joyce’,” Sebastian said. “The goldsmith who made up the design of this ring to my father’s orders.” He gave Winter a small smile. “My real father.”

She felt her mouth open in shock. “You mean your real father invented the design? He designed the Claddagh ring, Sebastian? Who is he?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian replied. “My mother never told me.” He lifted his hand with the ring on it. “This is all I have of him. This ring.” He lifted it up off his palm. “It’s too old and the design too precious to have the ring resized, now. Many years ago, I gave it to Nial.”

He lifted Winter’s hand and slid the ring onto her finger, with the crown oriented the way Nial had placed it. “Sotheby’s have estimated it to be worth around two and a half million sterling.” His green eyes lifted to look at her. “I know you’ll take care of it.”

“God, Sebastian, no! Not something like that. You take it.”

He shook his head. “Nial knows exactly what he’s doing.” He stood up. “Done with the profiles, yet? I’ve got some first estimates on security timetables for you as soon as you’re ready.” He walked away, leaving her looking at the worn ring on her finger, winded.

Chapter Seventeen

The work went smoothly after that. Too smoothly. Winter wondered if Sebastian was doing as Nial did—deliberately pouring oil on the waters and keeping the atmosphere untroubled and conflict free.

She found herself watching him more carefully, to spot any subtle signs of Sebastian’s’ charm at work. She had observed him using his ways with dozens of marks over the years. Surely, if he was trying to soothe her now, she would detect it.

But Sebastian just seemed to be happy.

Puzzled, she mentally dropped the matter and fully concentrated on the job at hand.

“You’re frowning,” Sebastian pointed out. “Problem with the timing?”

She smoothed out her expression. “No, it’s fine,” she assured him. “A bit tight having to go in so early, but we’re soft-shoeing it.” She shrugged. “It’s all part of the fun, right?”

Sebastian sat back. “That’s not what the frown was about,” he said. “You’ve been distracted all afternoon. Worried about Nial?”

She laughed. “God, no.”

“It’s not like you to let anything pull your attention away from the job once you’re into planning, Winter.”

She nodded. “I was thinking that this was just like old times…but it’s not.” She looked him in the eye. “Once this job is over, you’re out of here, aren’t you?”

Sebastian put his pen down. “It’s not like I have much choice.”

“You were always leaving before, too,” she pointed out. “I never knew if you were going to come back.” She looked down at the notepad she had been writing on. “Two years of ‘just one job’,” she said bitterly.

“Bullshit, Winter,” Sebastian said, his voice low and rough with some emotion that made her head jerk up to look at him. He hadn’t moved from the lazy sprawl in the chair. His arm was still hanging on the back of the chair, the other flung across the table. He still leaned against the arm of the captain’s chair he sat in, his long legs thrust out toward the window and the late afternoon light, but his body was thrumming with tension and his eyes glittered with it.

“You knew,” he said flatly.

“Knew what?” Her heart was suddenly racing and she wondering about the wisdom of asking, but the question was already out there.

Sebastian turned quickly in the chair to face her, with a swiftness that wasn’t quite vampire speed, but was fast for a human. “In the back of your mind, in your subconscious you knew I was different and you liked it. For two years, we both picked up hints and signals. I must have known all along that there wasn’t something quite human about you, that you were hiding a huge part of yourself from me but I didn’t dig it up because I wasn’t ready to hand over the truth about me, either. But we knew! In the back of our brains, we knew.”

Winter held her breath. Had she known? Had she?

Sebastian leaned forward. “You didn’t say anything because you liked that I was in your life and you were no longer alone.”

Winter recoiled, shocked.

Sebastian nodded. “It’s a curious thing. When two outsiders stand together, they’re not outside anymore. They’re inside their own world.” He shook his head. “But I’m not part of my world anymore. You took me out of my world. You made it just you and me, then you took that away from us, too.”

Winter stood up. “Enough, Sebastian. Please.”

“No.” He was suddenly there, almost as fast as Nial could move when he had a mind to. He stood over her. “Let me finish. Let me say it all.”

“Another confession?” she whispered.

“The last one,” he ground out. “It pays for everything.” He reached for her hair and stopped himself. “I loved you, Winter. I think I fell in love with you the first job we did, when you laid out a guard with a round house heel kick then caught him and lowered him to the ground and told me that’s the way you wanted it done on your jobs. Cool as a cucumber, hot as pepper when your dander was up. It was like four seasons in one day and I loved it. I loved you.”

“Loved?” she breathed.

He took a breath, one so deep it made his chest lift. “I’m trying to be fair,” he whispered.

“Be honest,” she replied. “It’s cleaner.”

Pain touched his features. “Honesty hasn’t served us well.”

“I like honesty,” she admitted. “I’ve grown addicted to it, these last few days.”

“No matter how much it hurts?”

She nodded.

“Very well.” Sebastian let out a breath. “I love you. I love you so much every breath I take when I’m in the same room with you hurts now you’re with Nial. It’s like breathing in ground glass. I can see that you’re…growing around him and I’m happy for you and it makes me die inside.”

Winter looked away. It was as bad as she had thought and as wonderful. Two years. No, three years if she counted the year they had just wasted idling their time not working. Three years of pretending they were just team mates. Just friends. All along Sebastian had loved her desperately. It wasn’t just Nial teasing him about an unrequited attraction.

Sebastian drew her face gently back to look at him. His eyes were hot with wanting, with desire. “All those men,” he told her. “The endless line of them. Do you know how much I resented them? How I imagined storming into your room, throwing them out of your bed and proving how much better a lover I could be than any of the world class billionaire play boys and Hollywood pin-ups and studs you were picking up?”

Winter bit back her moan. Her body was melting. Her mind crowding with images, memories and despair. She leaned back against the window, her legs weakening. “Sebastian…please don’t. I know I asked for honesty but spare me this.”

“Like you spared me?” he asked, his voice rough. “Do you know what it’s like watching someone you love in another’s arms?”

“Yes, I do.” Winter mentally sighed. If this was to be his last confession, she would make it count in every way.

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “You do?”

She gave a laugh that came out shaky, on top of all the adrenal and arousal surging through her. “You, Sebastian. I’ve watched you. Two long years and every conceivable type of lover possible. You’d walk into a room and turn heads. Then you could take your pick, with your charm and your beauty and I’d be left with my imagination and my raging jealousy and breaking heart. So I would find someone to share my bed and pretend it was you.” She could feel her mouth trying to curl down at the corners. “It didn’t work.”

Sebastian stepped in front of her so that she was trapped between his body and the glass. He wasn’t touching her but she could feel the heat of him. It made the window seem even colder against her back. Sebastian’s hands were curled into hard fists. “Say it,” he growled.

Winter could feel tears burning at the back of her eyes. “What purpose does it serve?”

“You made me say it,” he said. “You want honesty. So do I. All of it. Tell me. I want to hear it.” His eyes were glittering with the emotions driving him.

“I love you,” she whispered and her tears spilled.

Sebastian drew in a breath that shuddered but still he did not touch her. He pressed his hand to the window very close to her head and leaned so that his lips were close to hers. His eyes gazed into hers. “I waited two years. At any time, you could have just lifted a finger and I would have made you mine in every way a man could, and more. I would have made your lovers look like fumbling high school boys on a first date.”

Winter felt her breath push out as everything inside her leapt. She was drowning in Sebastian’s eyes.

“A night in my arms, Winter, and you would never have wanted to leave them again.” His voice seemed to thread through her thoughts like mist, making her want to lean through the scant few inches between them and press herself against him.

Winter found she was holding onto the windowsill. Clutching it. A lifeline. The edge bit into her palms.

“Do you know how much I want to kiss you right now?” Sebastian asked. “More, to tear those damned abbreviated garments you wear from your body and give you the sort of pleasure that makes you moan and scream the way you were last night?”

Winter clutched at the windowsill as one thought dominated all others. She wanted it. She wanted Sebastian. Life was utterly unfair. She kept herself motionless in case she betrayed any of her desire for what he was offering.

Sebastian was gazing into her eyes and she knew that if she gave him the slightest hint, the smallest positive sign, he would press his lips against hers and she would be lost.

How long did they stand there, with lust beating between them so thickly they could have touched it?

How long before Winter found the courage to speak the word that would destroy the sweet tension? She didn’t know, but it took time before she was able to do it.

“Nial,” she breathed.

Sebastian groaned and pushed himself away from her, to lean his forehead against the cold pane of the window. She watched his eyes close.

Winter was trembling. Adrenaline aftershock. Slowly, she set about restoring her body to normal and wiped away her tears. There was nothing more to say.

She had a headache. Just like every other human on the planet, she had to suffer through headaches or take something for them. She had never figured out how to cure them for they usually had no point of origin.

Winter rolled her head to look at Sebastian, next to her. He was a still, silent, wounded form leaning against the window.

“It’s still better to know it all,” she said softly. “Later on, I’ll be grateful you told me.”

He made a soft noise. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Right now I feel like a white hot poker is turning circles in my torso. I don’t have your internal off switch.”

Winter lifted a hand toward him. She could offer to ease his pain. Reach inside him and soothe the agony, but suddenly she did not trust herself to touch Sebastian at all. She put her hand back on the windowsill and let the silence stretch out again.

“You two look less than happy,” Nial said.

Winter looked toward the kitchen. Nial dropped his jacket over the sofa as she turned her head. He had quietly slipped into the apartment as they wallowed in their misery.

“Then it’s game, set and match,” Sebastian replied, standing up and heading for the table where most of the paperwork for the job was laid out. “I feel fucking wonderful, too. Let’s get this job wrapped up and done, shall we?”

Nial rolled up the sleeves of his business shirt and loosed the tie. “If you like,” he agreed easily. “I was going to suggest we all go out tonight. The three of us. Dinner and a show.”

“For which you magically have tickets?” Sebastian replied.

“I got them this afternoon.” Nial paused to press his lips to Winter’s. “You look pale, dilecta,” he added softly.

“My mood is not spectacular either, Nial,” she warned. “Although if you went to such trouble…”

“One of our marks will be at Sorrento’s tonight,” Nial added.

Sebastian threw the notepad he had picked up back onto the table with a sharp slap and stared out the window. “What time is our table booked?” he asked with a remote tone.

“Six-thirty,” Nial replied.

“I’ll go and get ready,” Winter told him, pushing herself away from the security of the windowsill with a silent sigh.

* * *

There was a dress bag lying on the bed when she got out of the shower, which filled in more of Nial’s afternoon activities for her.

The filmy dark green beaded concoction she revealed when she unzipped the bag was seductive and gorgeous. It suited her perfectly, which didn’t surprise her. Nial had good taste and knew what he liked.  He had spent the night running his hands all over her, so he knew her sizing intimately.

It made sense for him to arrange that she have a suitable dress for the job ahead tonight. She just hoped he remembered shoes and smiled when she found them in a box at the foot of the bed.

There was a satin and chiffon stole to cover her bare shoulders and back. Winter pinned her hair in big loose rolls at the back of her head, which hid the pins, and let the rest cascade down her back.

She couldn’t help but admire the total effect in the mirror. They were working tonight, but she was going to enjoy the stunning effect from moment to moment, anyway. Nial couldn’t have picked a better dress for her if this had been a personal date and he had been set on making her feel like a princess. But if it had been a personal evening, she wouldn’t have let him buy a dress for her in the first place.

She twirled once more and watched herself in the mirror, smiling a Cheshire cat grin. For now she could enjoy a dress she would never have bought for herself and being on the arm of a man that most of New York would glance at twice. It would be fun, when she paused long enough to enjoy it.

* * *

The mark’s name was Martie Shakeel. He was a recently-made junior partner in the firm and trying hard to move up and tonight, oddly, he was dining with friends, not clients.

Perhaps that’s why he felt it was okay to blow them off, because even while he and his two male friends were waiting for their table, sitting in the lounge, Martie Shakeel spotted Winter sitting at the bar with Nial and Sebastian and made a move.

That was fine. All three of them had been ready for something unexpected like that to happen. They were professionals, after all. Coping with the unexpected was part of the routine.

None of them had factored in that Shakeel was a serial date rapist, though.

Chapter Eighteen

Winter got her first hint when Martie bought her a drink at the bar. He was practiced at separating her from her friends and establishing her precise relationship to them. He did it fast and smoothly. He spotted her ring, although that didn’t seem to bother him overly much, either.

Nial and Sebastian she explained with a quick shrug. “My friends. They’re partners. My husband is in DC on business and they’re taking me to a show tonight to keep me from going out of my mind with boredom.”

Martie grinned. “Your husband is in the House?”

“Congressional aide,” Winter corrected downwards. Power, but not too much of it.

Martie coaxed her to a low table and armchairs inside three minutes, although she didn’t try to protest too hard. Time alone with him would give her valuable information for later, if she met him in the corridors of the Flatiron building and needed to draw him close enough to touch him and disable him.

For right now, she could milk him for information about his company just by being interested in him. So she played the part and let him buy her a drink.

The first few mouthfuls told her something was wrong. She analysed her response to the Whiskey Sour, spotting complex acid chains and adjusting her body chemistry to break them down into harmless molecules, puzzled over the strong reaction.

After a couple of minutes, Martie leaned closer. “The blond guy, your friend…he’s staring at me like he wants to bury an axe in my chest. They’re really a couple, those two?”

Winter looked over her shoulder. Sebastian was clutching his glass. Just as Martie said, he was glaring and brooding. But Nial didn’t look any happier, either. He was just doing a better job of hiding it.

Winter sighed. “Sebastian lost tonight’s bet. Nial got to pick my dress. I’ll go mend fences and be right back. Do you mind?”

“As long as you agree to have dinner with me,” Martie replied.

She hesitated. The traces of the chemical still swirling through her system bothered her. But this was a priceless opportunity. So she smiled at him, a warm, slow sexy smile that implied far more than she intended. “I’d love to.”

Then she hurried over to Nial and Sebastian. “For heaven’s sake, Sebastian, will you pull yourself together? You look like you want to murder the guy!”

Sebastian took a slug from his glass. “I do,” he said. He looked at her, his green eyes glittering with emotion. “Deal with it,” he said flatly.

“It’s a job. We’ve done a hundred of them,” she said, working hard to keep her voice low. She turned to Nial. “Help me out here.”

Nial lifted the glass of ruby red wine to his lips, pretended to sip and put it back on the counter. “You would have me say what? That Sebastian should calmly sit here and watch that ape paw you?” The corner of his jaw flexed. He looked at her and although his expression was calm, for a moment she glimpsed a storm of emotions in his gaze. “I have lost my taste for hypocrisy. You can thank yourself for the change in diet.”

A waiter approached them. “Your table is ready for you now.”

Winter felt the fine edges of fury touch her. “We’re working,” she hissed. “You’re going to make this personal?”

Sebastian drained his glass. “It is personal. It comes with the territory. There’s no separating it. You’ve just never figured that out.”

Time was ticking away. She held out her hand, feeling helpless under the pull of it. “Martie wants me to join him for dinner,” she said. “I can’t pass this up.”

“Then you’d better go join him for dinner,” Nial replied.

Sebastian exhaled heavily.

Nial rested his hand on Sebastian’s forearm where he was propping himself on the bar and stood up. “Let’s go and get you fed, Bastian,” he said. “You need to soak up some of that whiskey.”

“Preferably the other side of the dining room from where they’re sitting. I don’t want to watch Shakeel drooling down Winter’s cleavage while I eat,” Sebastian replied. He didn’t look at Winter as he got to his feet.

Winter stared at them, hurt slicing through her with the sharp pain of a paper cut. They were going to leave her here? Just like that?

They were stepping past her, preparing to follow the waiter. Her heart almost halted in terror.

Nial turned to her. “I would kiss you,” he said in an undertone. “But Shakeel is watching and would get the wrong impression. Enjoy your meal.” He gave her a neutral smile that didn’t reach his eyes. The blue remained shielded.

Winter wanted to wrap herself about him and seek reassurance that Nial still wanted her, that he would be waiting for her when this awful task was over. She just wanted a sign. Something, some small thing.

But Nial and Sebastian were already threading their way between the big overstuffed leather armchairs, following the waiter past the towers of bottled wine into the dining room beyond.

She made herself turn back to Shakeel and not watch them any longer. To continue to stare after them would be unnatural for someone who was just friends.

Martie Shakeel was watching her, though. His eyes were narrowed. Thoughtful.

Winter made herself smile at him. Then she remembered the chemical traces in her system. She hadn’t been able to tell Nial and Sebastian about them.

She worked over the puzzle as she walked back to her chair beside Shakeel. She had taught herself enough bio-chemistry and straight biology theory to rival a university graduate simply to know more about what it was she did when she went inside people. As her personal wealth had increase and her access to resources had become more plentiful, she had tapped into some of the world’s cutting edge sources of information on bio-chemistry and biology. She kept herself up to date and informed in these fields.

Now, as she walked back to the armchair, she recalled the acid chain she had found in her body and identified it based purely on its structure: Gamma-Hydroxybutyric acid.

Winter’s confident walk missed a beat.

GHB. Shakeel had slipped a date rape drug into her drink. Now he was watching her for signs of it kicking in. Her little stumble had brought a smile to his face.

Fear touched her. She had to keep walking toward him, although Winter really wanted to run back to Nial and Sebastian. If she did that, though, she would be jeopardising not just tonight, but the Flatiron job, too.

Shakeel sat back in his armchair, suddenly much more relaxed and cheerful.

Winter let herself half fall into her chair, rather than lowering herself into it. “Ooops.” She clutched at the arms and blinked. “Woah!” She widened her eyes and looked at him as if she were trying to focus. “I think all the flying I’ve done lately is starting to kick in.”

“Jet lag?” Shakeel asked.

“Must be.” She forced herself to sit up. “Anyway, where were we?” She plastered a sunny smile on her face. “Dinner?” she asked.

Martie Shakeel smiled. The smile spread slowly, like melting butter. “Are you so sure you’re in the mood to eat?”

Winter kept her smile in place, but her heart seemed to want to squeeze shut and her stomach dropped. Shakeel wasn’t even going to bother getting her into the dining room where Nial and Sebastian could see her signal them. He was going to take her from right here in the lounge.

“I’m starving,” Winter told him, drawling out the second word. She added a giggle for good measure and tilted her head to look at him like someone who was totally out of their skull and heading into deeper territory with every passing second.

The scary part was that she was clearly not over-playing her reactions. Shakeel looked more comfortable and casual by the minute. He was used to this helpless, more-than-legless reaction. How much GHB had he slipped her? She had thought the Whiskey Sour was strong, but figured he’d simply bought her a double….

Martie Shakeel was too practiced at this. It was routine.

Winter nearly moaned aloud at the thought.

Shakeel leaned over the wide arms of the chairs, so that his handsome face with the high forehead and thick, well-groomed hair was inches from hers. “I can give you everything you need to eat,” he told her in an undertone. “You’ll love it.”

“I will?” Winter asked, making herself sound vague and uncertain.

“Out in my car. Outside. Out in the cool air. The cool, cool air,” Shakeel murmured. “Out where the air can play on your skin. Your beautiful skin.”

Winter closed her eyes, as if they were drifting shut in a haze of delight as she imagined a cool breeze playing over her flesh.

The needle slapped into her arm with such speed and precision Winter barely over-rode the need to jump or scream her shock.

The auto-injector squirted cold liquid into her system that immediately turned hot, before she could scramble to deal with it. She was slowed by her shock, by the unexpectedness of the attack. Shakeel had already dosed her. Why a second drug?

So fast!

That was all she really had time to think before the drug started to slow her thoughts and her movements.

The world swam around her, hazy and out of focus.

“…a bit too much to drink…” she heard Shakeel say.

Hands on her arms.

Winter tried to open her mouth to protest and open her eyes to see what was happening. Neither her lips nor her eyes would cooperate.

She was being hauled about now. Shakeel was still talking. She could hear him against her. Touching her.

Terror swamped her and for one desperate, shining heartbeat, she screamed out in her mind, because she could not voice the words or reach out with her arms.

Then she made herself think instead of panic. She was on her own. Wishing for help or a miracle wasn’t going to get her out of this. She was going to have to sort it out for herself. That meant she had to convert the drug. She had to analyse it and neutralize it. The longer she took to do it, the more time Shakeel had to do whatever he wanted with her. That was all.

Her hearing seemed to be unaffected and she recalled Nial saying that hearing was a passive system, common to both vampires and humans.

They were outside, now. The air was cooler than the restaurant, but that just meant the drug was making her sweat and the evening breeze was chilling her flushed skin. Winter struggled to open her eyes but still her muscles wouldn’t obey. The signals weren’t getting through.

She concentrated on countering the drug instead, knowing that now, every second counted. Shakeel had no reason not to hurry now.

She heard his grunt and felt pressure against her abdomen and lighter pressure across the back of her knees. He’d tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Winter turned her focus inwards, to the free-flowing icicle chip molecules of the drug. She grabbed one and studied it.

Complex! Alien and weird. Definitely put together in a lab and not one where people wore white coats and sterile paper socks over their shoes. This was the sort of lab where people thought it would be cool to drop this chain of amino acids here, and insert that one there instead and let’s snort it up and see what it does, just for laughs…

But it was organic and therefore biodegradable. She ripped apart the chain, breaking it down into oxygen, hydrogen, water and other harmless base elements and pushed it toward other similar molecules. The tear started a chain of crumbling molecules. The drug was a marvel of inventiveness but it was highly unstable and fell like a house of cards as soon as she poked at it.

The demolition chain reaction fizzing through her body, flooding it with rich oxygen and water.  Winter was now free to focus on external concerns.

The back of her head hit a padded wall. Hard. She gritted her teeth against the pain.

A door closed with a familiar muffling sound. It was a car door. Shakeel had dumped her on the back seat of a car and she had hit her head against the other closed door.

Winter lay still. She had to wait for Shakeel to touch her before she could put him to sleep. The drug he had given her had left her completely helpless. If she sat up now or reached for him, he’d know something was wrong and she would never be able to approach him at the Flatiron building. Everything counted on the next few seconds remaining as “normal” as he expected them to be, even if she personally wanted to tear out his testicles.

But Shakeel didn’t touch her. Instead, he tore her gown from her body with the help of a knife and dispensed with her panties the same way.

Winter lay helplessly, her eyes closed while he hummed softly. She imagined him smiling that slow smile of his while he studied her. It made her want to throw up.

The windows on both doors of the car smashed inwards, spraying little squares of safety glass everywhere. Winter carefully opened her eyes. There was a roar of noise that sounded almost human, but not quite. Nial’s hand reached through the falling window behind Shakeel, who was crouched over Winter. The big hand hooked around Shakeel’s neck and pulled him backwards through the windowless space as he squawked and clawed at his captured neck. There was no mercy in the hold. Shakeel was dragged relentlessly from the car through the broken window.

At the same time, Sebastian’s streamlined body drove through the window over Winter’s head, grabbed the back of the front seats for leverage and pulled the rest of the way into the crowded back seat area.

He straddled Winter’s body, picked up Shakeel’s struggling form and fed it out the window for Nial to deal with. Then he unlatched the door, kicked it opened and stepped out. Finally, he turned to face Winter. He was already unbuttoning his shirt. “Did he touch you at all?” he asked, his voice controlled and icy.

“I might have been able to do something with him if he had,” Winter said, trying to keep her voice just as steady. “He used a knife to cut everything off me. I had no chance.”

“Bloody bastard,” Sebastian said levelly. He held out his shirt. “Here.”

She knelt up on the seat, carefully moving around the broken glass. “Thank you.”

Sebastian looked away. “Not a problem.”

Winter slid the shirt on and buttoned it. It was large enough on her that it was a decent sized dress. She would flash thigh and stocking tops as she walked but for New York, that would barely raise an eyebrow.

Sebastian helped her from the car. Her shoes were missing. Another insult to add to the injury for the evening. She sighed.

The car was a white Lincoln Continental and it was parked in an alleyway that looked like it was the back service alley for businesses. Possibly the restaurant itself, which made sense. The alley backed onto housing buildings and was dark and lonely.

Nial stood in the middle of the alley, his arm around the throat of Martie Shakeel, the other hand holding the man’s wrist high up behind his back.

Nial, like Sebastian a few minutes ago, had discarded his jacket and wore just his shirt and suit trousers. Now Sebastian was bare-chested. Nial had rolled his shirtsleeves up as usual.

When Winter emerged from the car, Nial’s gaze slid over her from head to foot and his expression hardened. “Not touched, hmmm?” he said, speaking into Shakeel’s ear.

“I swear!” Shakeel groaned. “I just took off her clothes!”

“He drugged me. Twice,” Winter added. “The second one was a doozy. Cooked up in some backyard lab somewhere. I would have been as limp as a beached jellyfish while he did his nasty business.” She could feel her mouth trying to turn down as she looked at him. “That’s really the only way you can get your jollies, Shakeel? Animated girls don’t do it for you?”

Shakeel whimpered. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

Sebastian glanced at her, lifting his brow. “Someone knows something he shouldn’t,” he murmured.

“Oh god…” Shakeel murmured. “I didn’t know you were one,” he told Winter. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t have…I never would have, I…oh shit.” He gulped.

“Relax, Shakeel,” Nial told him. “She’s not a vampire.”

Shakeel gave a little squeak at the word and his eyes rolled backward in his head as he tried to look at Nial.

“Yes, Shakeel,” Nial crooned, his fingertips stroking Shakeel’s exposed neck. “I am a vampire.” He struck Shakeel’s neck, biting with a growl.

Shakeel squealed, high and loud, trying to struggle in Nial’s grip but Nial was far stronger than Shakeel and after a few seconds, the other man fell limp and silent.

Nial let him go and Shakeel slumped to the ground.

“What did you do?” Winter demanded.

“Nothing but bury my canines into his flesh. I wouldn’t taste his blood if he were the last human left on the planet.” Nial pushed at the motionless body at his feet. “He fainted. Some humans do that if they can’t cope with sudden, overwhelming fear.”

Sebastian laughed loudly. Then he glanced at Winter and shut up. But she could see his body shaking with amusement and his eyes glittering with it.

Nial touched his shoe to Shakeel’s flaccid shoulder again. “You’ll have to work your magic, Winter. Strip his memories of the evening.”

“And replace them with what?”

“Nothing,” Sebastian said. “He’s a serial date rapist. He’s not going to own up to losing an evening. He can’t afford to have his personal life examined closely. He’ll just sweat out the fact that he’s lost time and know that someone knows. It’ll do him good.”

“I like that,” Winter said. She stepped across the rough road surface carefully and crouched down next to Shakeel. “That means I don’t have to be too delicate about pulling the memories, either. I can leave him with a headache.”

“Please do,” Nial said. “I regret that I must ask you to heal my bite marks from his neck. They’re too much of a giveaway, especially to Shakeel who knows of our kind. I managed to minimize the aphrodisiac I used, though. That bite really hurt him.”

“I’ll take care of it, Nial,” she assured him. “Although I’ll leave the lactic acid in place so he’ll still have a stiff neck when he wakes up.”

“That will do, I suppose,” Nial said regretfully.

Once she had finished wiping Shakeel’s most recent memories, Nial and Sebastian dumped his sleeping form in the back of the Continental and Winter ensured he would sleep for another ten minutes or more by dropping him into another REM cycle.

She turned away from the car to find both Nial and Sebastian standing together, watching her, barely two paces away.

Winter took the two paces gingerly across the rough tarmac, then reached up and threw an arm around them and tried to gather them both to her. A cold shudder ran through her as she relived the moment in the restaurant when she had realized what Shakeel had intended to do with her and that Nial and Sebastian were too far away to help her. Terror in retrospect.

Perhaps they understood because they both moved closer together and pulled her in to them, holding her against them, offering the comfort she craved.

“You came,” she told them. “I thought I was on my own, but you came.”

Neither of them said a word, but their arms tightened around her.

It was a perfect moment. Winter didn’t want it to end and she knew why. Sebastian was there. Nial was there. No choice was necessary. She was bathed in perfect peace and harmony. A moment out of time and reality.

Then Shakeel snored and grunted and reality came crashing back and the moment was gone.

Chapter Nineteen

Sebastian lowered Winter to the floor as Nial picked up the remote and switched on the two big floor lamps bracketing the sofa. Soft amber light filled the middle of the main floor.

“I should hit the pillow. I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Sebastian said, stepping away from Winter. His chest in the light was a soft matt brown and for the first time she realized that he was more tanned than she had ever seen him. Well, he had been in Ningaloo to soak up the sun, something he could do with comfort now. A tan looked good on him.

“A night cap, Sebastian?” Nial asked, heading for the mobile bar standing next to the fireplace.

“I don’t think—”

“Irish whiskey. Ten years old,” Nial added.

“I suppose…”

“I’m going to go and get changed,” Winter said.

“Stay and have a drink,” Nial suggested.

“I’d really rather get changed,” Winter replied. “Sebastian doesn’t need to see me half-naked and he should have his shirt back.”

“I need to talk to you,” Nial said flatly.

Winter drew in a breath and let it out, looking for calm and barely finding it. She turned back into the room and walked over to the sofa and sat on it. She curled her legs up under her and made sure the shirt was properly tucked in around her.

“Just me?” she asked, trying for a steady voice.

“Both of you,” Nial replied. He handed Sebastian the whiskey and sat on the stool, stretching out his legs. “Tell me what you think of the whiskey. I’m curious to know.”

“I’m sure it’s good. You always buy the best,” Sebastian replied and sipped. “And I’m right,” he added. “It’s one of the finest I’ve tasted.” He stood at the other end of the small bar from where Nial was sitting and rested the glass on the granite top. The heavy base made a soft thud in the quiet room.

Nial crossed his arms. “So, Sebastian, you got your wish. You got the impossible dream, thanks to Winter. You’re human once more.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

“That’s what you always told me, wasn’t it?” Nial said. “You wanted to be human, so that you could live and love like a human?”

Winter jumped but Sebastian didn’t even glance at her. He was staring suspiciously at Nial.

Nial shrugged again. “You’re so human, in fact, that you’re locked into a human relationship so tight that to break it will bring both your deaths. That’s about as frail as anyone could wish for, wouldn’t you say?”

Sebastian’s gaze finally flickered toward Winter.

“Nial, what are you doing?” Winter demanded, fear touching her. “What game is this?”

“It’s just a question,” Nial said, looking steadily at Sebastian. “I’m curious.”

Sebastian shook his head. “You’re playing one of your games again. Damn, I thought you’d given up on them. I thought—” He glanced at Winter. “I thought wrong,” he finished heavily.

Winter uncurled her legs and sat up. “Why are you trying to manipulate him again, Nial?”

Nial looked at them both. “You’re both so afraid of being manipulated and used. Yet neither of you have a clue how power over another works. You’ve been watching me for signs of abuse when you have no idea what to look for in the first place. You’re the blind leading the blind.”

Sebastian held his hand out toward Nial. “See, that’s what I mean,” he told Winter. “Try wearing that attitude for two hundred and fifty years.”

Winter studied Nial. “He has a point. We’re not stupid, Nial.”

“But you fail to see the truth when it’s staring you in the face,” Nial replied. “You’ve been looking at it for five days, Winter, and you haven’t seen it. Some of the truth you’ve been looking at all your adult life and you haven’t seen that, either. You ask for honesty but you’re not equipped to deal with it.”

Winter scrambled to her feet. “You’ve been hiding behind a shield of lies for fifteen hundred years, Nial! How dare you!”

“Hiding, yes, but I can differentiate truth from lies and I know its power and understand how it works,” Nial said. He still hadn’t moved from the stool.

“He can keep this up until you fall asleep,” Sebastian said bitterly. “That’s how he always wins. He just talks you into defeat.”

Nial shook his head. “You’re both so close!” he said, his voice low and strong. “Stop fighting me on this.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Sebastian replied. “We both just roll over for you.”

Nial gave an exasperated sound. “You really fear my manipulation that much?” he demanded. He stood and in one long lunge reached for Sebastian, his hand curling around Sebastian’s neck. He drew the younger man to him, pulling his body up hard against him, his other hand around Sebastian’s hips. Nial kissed him, taking his time, his lips hard against Sebastian’s. His fingers buried themselves in Sebastian’s thick blond locks of hair and the other hand stroked the flesh over his back before sliding down and cupping his ass and pressing him harder against Nial.

The pressure made Sebastian groan and finally snag a fistful of Nial’s shirt, pulling the taller man closer.

Winter stood frozen five paces away, her heart in overdrive, her body an overworked steam engine about to explode as she watched Nial and Sebastian kissing. Sebastian’s groan was echoed by her own soundless moan. She could barely draw breath.

Winter lost track of her sense of self. Her entire consciousness was focused on the two men in front of her and their passion. Their arousal. She could almost feel it, for it radiated from every tight, hard line of their bodies, the way they were locked together.

Pure wanting.

Nial broke the kiss with a great gasp, his eyes closed. He stood still for several seconds while Sebastian laid a trembling hand on his shoulder.

“God…Nial.”

Nial looked at Winter. His eyes were stormy. “Who manipulates whom here, Winter?”

Shock touched her. “You did that just to prove a point to me?”

Nial lowered Sebastian onto the stool he had been sitting on and moved toward her. “You still don’t understand.” He reached for her.

Winter let him curl his hands around her upper arms and that was when she wrapped her arms around his waist and locked her fingers behind him, her palms resting against the small of his back. “I understand plenty. I’ve spent days looking inside you and there’s something you don’t understand or that you’ve forgotten about vampires and humans. You feel emotions, yes, but you don’t feel them the way humans do. Every time a human feels an emotion, there’s a chemical reaction in the body. We actually feel an emotion. But you don’t because your human systems are all dormant. For you, emotions are an intellectual exercise, a holdover from when you were human. They’ve probably got all warped and out of kilter over the fifteen hundred years since you last felt real emotions.”

She had been steadily kicking his human system into gear as she spoke, placing his vampirism on temporary hold so he didn’t go into freeze like he had last time. It was going to take a lot of energy to pull this off, but if she could do it, it would be worth it just to prove her point.

“Like fear, Nial. You must be feeling a bit afraid right now about what I might do to you in the next couple of minutes, right?”

Nial licked his lips and glanced at Sebastian, who was sitting up on the stool, watching. “You’re missing the point,” he replied.

She adjusted his chemistry delicately, upping his fear level and he began to breathe faster.

“There’s terror, too,” she murmured and poured in some adrenaline and increased his heart rate.

Nial gasped, his fingers digging into her arms.

“Anger is so much blacker when your body is pushing you around, too,” Winter added. She made the adjustments and watched as Nial’s expression changed. White lines of fury drew themselves beside his mouth. His eyes narrowed as he stared at her.

“Happiness,” she announced.

Nial took a breath of relief as his expression cleared and he smiled. He began to laugh.

Sebastian moved closer. “I’ve never heard him laugh like that.”

Winter was concentrating too heavily to spare the attention to answer Sebastian.

Nial’s head rolled back and he laughed up at the ceiling.

“Sadness,” she announced.

His laughter withered and he drew in a shaky breath.

Winter took him on a roller-coaster ride of emotions, switching his body chemistry each time. She had spent a lifetime watching how humans feel emotions. Now she gave that back to Nial.

Sebastian crept closer, a silent witness.

Winter saw that Nial’s heart was galloping wildly. She soothed it, but it wouldn’t calm as much as she wanted it to. This was taxing Nial as much as her.

“Despair,” she called, intending this to be the last call.

“No,” Sebastian said, touching her shoulder. “That’s enough.”

Nial slithered to the floor, onto his hands and knees, forcing Winter to follow so that she could keep her hands on him. She sat in front of him and lifted his head and gasped at the tears in his eyes. She had activated his human system. Tears were possible for Nial.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed. “Let me feel.”

“I must,” she said. “It’s hurting you.”

“Show me love before you stop, then,” he whispered.

Winter felt tears building in her eyes. “I can’t,” she told him. “Love isn’t a chemical reaction. It’s a whole body, whole brain, whole heart feeling.”

“Then I still really do love,” he murmured and his tears did fall. “Hurry,” he told her.

Winter looked at Sebastian, who nodded.

She wiped her cheeks quickly and set about restoring Nial’s body back to his normal. The human systems she put back into dormancy and wiped out all the chemical reactions she had put into play in his body. As she worked, Nial sank to the floor. Sebastian caught his head before it hit the rug and lowered it the rest of the way.

Winter allowed the vampirism to take Nial’s body back over and withdrew. She felt very tired.

“Is he doing that sleeping thing again?” Sebastian asked, sitting next to Nial’s still form.

She nodded. “He’ll come around in a minute or so and be perfectly normal again.” She stretched out on the rug herself, her forehead on her arms. She wanted to weep, but had no idea why.

Deep silence gripped the room.

“You’re both still here,” Nial said. There was a touch of wonder in his voice. “If you are so afraid of my ability to maneuver you like pawns, why did you not take advantage of my moment of supreme weakness and run like hell?” He pushed himself up with his hands and sat up.

Winter rolled over onto her side. “And leave you lying on the rug?”

Sebastian bent one knee and rested his elbow on it. He pushed that hand through his hair with a frustrated motion. “Nial, please, please, don’t start this again. Five minutes ago I was feeling sorry for you for the first time in ten years. Hell, I even wanted you. Don’t ruin that for me—no offense, Winter. Anything other than resenting you is a complete change of pace.”

Nial took a breath and let it out. “You don’t resent me, Bastian.”

Sebastian groaned and hammered at the floor. “Fuck!”

Nial grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip. “You don’t resent me,” he said evenly. “You resent the fact that you love me still, even though you think you want your freedom.” He dropped Sebastian’s wrist. “I don’t have power over you. You just think I do because you want me to be important in your life.”

Sebastian shook his head. “No.”

Winter could almost hear Sebastian’s thoughts. She wanted to cry out a warning, but there was no way to stop what he would say next. She sat up, making the third point in their rough triangle on the rug.

Nial crossed his legs, making it look comfortable and natural, even with his long limbs. “I’ve never stopped loving you, Sebastian. That’s something you’ve always discounted and you shouldn’t.”

Sebastian shook his head again. “I love Winter,” he said flatly. “I’d die for her.”

Winter held her breath.

Nial laughed softly. “You say that like you think I don’t know, like I should be angry or hurt.”

Winter let out her breath with a gasp. “You know?”

Nial looked at her. “Of course I know, just as I know how much you love Sebastian—quite desperately, in fact. I’ve admired and been astonished that you two haven’t succumbed to temptation some time since this honesty gambit started cracking things open, as I haven’t done anything to keep you apart. Only your sense of honor and loyalty to me has stopped you so far.”

Winter stared at him, astonishment clogging her mind and mouth.

Nial threaded his fingers together and looked at Sebastian. “Now do you begin to understand a little about true power, Sebastian?”

“You use love to push people about?” Sebastian asked, his hand over his eyes.

Nial pulled Sebastian’s hand away. Sebastian blinked and looked at him.

“When have I ever pushed you into doing something you didn’t want?” Nial asked. “Leaving me was your idea.”

“Thank god, or I would never have met Winter,” Sebastian shot back.

“It’s as the gods have written it,” Nial agreed. “We both met Winter because you wanted an impossible fairy-tale, although given that we all move in the same general circles, it’s likely we would have met sooner or later anyway.”

“I got my fairy-tale, though,” Sebastian pointed out.

Nial shook his head. He leaned forward and kissed Sebastian, a light touch of his mouth to the other man’s cheek. Then he got to his feet and walked back to the bar. Winter glanced at Sebastian, who shrugged with a tiny lift of his broad shoulders.

Across the air, a bodiless whisper came, like a vagrant shift of the currents. “Watch out Winter!”

Nile turned and threw Sebastian’s empty, heavy whiskey glass at her. It streaked across the ten feet of space like a bullet and Winter rocked back on her hips, throwing her arms up to protect her head from the deadly missile.

Sebastian got there first. The glass smacked into his hand and his fingers closed around it, a bare six inches from her face.

Sebastian pulled the glass into his chest and looked at Nial. “What the fuck?”

Nial’s gaze, though, was on Winter. “Did you see the speed of his reactions?”

Winter doused her system with endorphins, trying to counter the adrenaline. She was shaking badly. Biting her lip, she nodded.

Sebastian quickly turned his head to look at her. “What?”

“You were moving too fast for a human,” she said gently.

Sebastian took a moment to absorb her words and build the implications behind them. “No.” He shook his head. “No, I’m perfectly human!”

“Not quite,” Nial said simply.

“One hundred percent!” Sebastian replied hotly.

“You eat and sleep, yes, but for energy renewal,” Nial told him. “That’s all. You don’t have a metabolism. You’re not aging, Sebastian. I spotted it the moment I saw you in Ireland, when after a year’s absence you hadn’t changed at all. Winter had told me you’d become human again so I had been looking for human signs of aging and there weren’t any.”

Sebastian licked his lips. “Bullshit,” he whispered.

“Winter can confirm it for you in thirty seconds,” Nial said. “Now she knows what to look for. But there’s one easy question that will prove it for you.”

Sebastian shook his head. “No, no more questions.”

Nial moved back onto the rug and knelt next to Sebastian where he sat like a steel trap, ready to go off as soon as anyone touched him.

“Have you ever had to get your hair cut since you were made human?” Nial asked softly.

Sebastian covered his face with his hands. It was answer enough.

Nial drew Sebastian into his arms and held him. He lifted his gaze to Winter. “Have you seen your part in all this, Winter?”

“That I failed to make Sebastian human enough? Thank you, my guilt is sufficient.”

He shook his head. “You could never have made him fully human. You aren’t one yourself.”

Sebastian sat back and ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. “That’s ridiculous. She was born of human parents.”

“So were you and I,” Nial replied evenly. “And neither of us is human anymore. Winter never was human and now she is even less human than she was when she was born.”

“Because of the symbiosis.” Winter grimaced.

“Yes, but the changes were more far-reaching than you are aware of,” Nial told her.

Winter swallowed. “My eyes…”

“You have vampire vision,” Nial said flatly. “And vampire hearing.”

“Jesus,” Sebastian murmured.

“Then on the plane…” Winter began.

“There was no acoustic anomaly,” Nial replied. “But when I hear sounds very low on the human auditory scale, they do sound like you described, like something riding on air currents. So I knew you were hearing something no ordinary human should have been able to hear. You’ve heard more like that since, including five minutes ago, just before I threw the glass at you.”

She nodded.

Sebastian sighed. “Then I still can hear in the same ranges, too. I was hearing air current stuff on the plane, just like Winter. I thought it was her acoustic anomaly, too.”

Nial crossed his legs and threaded his fingers again. “The final factor has been with you since birth, Winter, but it only became active since maturity.”

She held up her hand, halting him. She already knew. In her gut, she had always known. She smoothed the hem of Sebastian’s shirt out over her thigh, then looked up at Nial. “I’m immortal,” she said. “That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?”

“Nial?” Sebastian prompted, hope filling his voice.

The corner of Nial’s mouth lifted. “Just as you’ve always suspected. Immortality as we vampires count it. You can die in a small number of painful and difficult ways, but because you can control and adjust your biology, you will move through time essentially changeless. You told me you were born in Serbia on December 21, 1982. That makes you nearly thirty, but you have the features and body of twenty-two year old and absolutely no markers of passing time. You haven’t noticed yet because not enough time has passed for you, but as time moved on, as you neared forty or fifty, you would have. You are going to have to learn how to mask your lack of aging from others. Later, you are going to have to learn how to ‘die’ and move on to another life.”

“We call it ‘the great charade’,” Sebastian added. “I suppose it is something I will have to continue now.” He didn’t seem upset anymore.

“’We’?” Nial said.

“Then what am I?” Sebastian demanded. “I am no longer vampire. I am not human, either.”

“Ours,” Nial said. “Just be ours, Sebastian.”

Winter’s heart halted. So did her breath.

“’Ours’?” Sebastian said, mimicking Nial’s tone.

“Mine and Winter’s,” Nial replied.

Chapter Twenty

Nial held out a hand to her and Winter let him pull her into his lap while Sebastian stared at him.

“Yours and Winter’s what?” Sebastian said at last.

“Lover, friend, husband, mate. You can choose the tag or the role, or both. It’s up to you, Sebastian.”

Winter shivered and Nial’s arms came around her. The tension inside her was sending little strumming ripples over her skin like heat waves, as she watch Sebastian struggle with the idea that Nial had proposed.

I want Winter, Sebastian had said. But when Nial had kissed him, he had groaned and reached for him, wanting more. He admitted to wanting Nial under duress. The need was there, buried under denial.

But he openly wanted her.

So Winter stretched up and kissed Sebastian, her lips meeting his full ones. They were warm and soft with surprise at first.

She thrust her tongue inside, tasting whiskey and Sebastian’s own unique flavor and met the soft wall of his tongue.

He growled low in his throat as his hands cupped her face. His tongue came alive, toying with hers and stroking her lips.

Winter tried to stop the small moan of pleasure that ripped from her lips but couldn’t. It felt so good to have Sebastian kissing her and know that it was okay, it wouldn’t end, that there would be more….

His hands slid down her throat, stroking and fluttering. Teasing. Making her arch. Nial’s hands were on her hips, gently coaxing her to kneel, to bring her closer to Sebastian.

Sebastian let her mouth go. He was breathless as he slid an arm around her and pulled her up against him. “I may lack all sorts of finesse this first time. I’ve waited far too long.”

Nial turned Sebastian’s head to kiss him. “You’d better kiss her again,” he suggested. Then as Sebastian returned to kissing her, Nial slipped the buttons of Winter’s shirt undone and slid it off her arms. Essentially naked except for the stay up stockings, she perched in Nial’s lap as Sebastian finished his kiss and Nial ran his hands over her body in lazy, rousing circles. By the time Sebastian released her, she was starting to squirm.

Sebastian sat back, studying her. “Wow,” he said softly, as Nial brushed her hair back over her shoulders.

Winter crawled from Nial’s lap. “Kiss Nial the way you just kissed me,” she told Sebastian. She tugged on his arm.

Nial drew in a breath that sounded unsteady.

Sebastian’s eyes looked wide and glassy. He leaned forward on one arm and pressed his mouth to Nial’s. Nial kept perfectly still, neither encouraging him or moving away, but his hand lifted up toward Sebastian as if he wanted to pull him closer and hovered.

Sebastian broke the kiss with a sigh. “Damn you to hell, Nathanial.”

“That’s for certain,” Nial agreed. “But why this time?”

“Two kisses and I’m hooked again,” Sebastian said and rested his head against Nial’s. He turned to look at Winter. “This time on both of you.”

Her heart leapt.

Sebastian reached for the buttons on Nial’s shirt, fumbling them undone. “Help me, Winter,” he said, his voice growing thick with arousal.

Her excitement jumped even higher. Winter slid the buttons undone beneath Sebastian’s larger fingers, moving nimbly ahead of him. Sebastian pulled the shirt from Nial’s shoulders and Winter spread her hands across Nial’s flesh. Sebastian pressed his lips to Nial’s chest, making him draw in another slow, deep harsh breath.

Winter pushed Nial’s shoulders to the floor, forcing him to lie down, while Sebastian removed the rest of his clothing.

Nial’s cock was erect and ready. He rolled to his knees and forced Sebastian onto his back. “Your turn,” he said, his voice low, controlled. But instead of stripping Sebastian, he held down his arms. “Winter,” he coaxed. “Do your worst.”

She smiled, her body tingling at the idea. She kissed Sebastian lightly on the mouth. His green eyes were narrowed suspiciously, although his muscled arms were not pulling hard in Nial’s grip.

Winter stripped Sebastian of the rest of his clothing. Like Nial, his cock was stiff and beating against his pelvis, but Winter ignored it and instead began to lick her way down his hot body from his sensual lips, her fingers teasing and outlining the path ahead and stopping for interesting detours along the way. Long before she reached the juncture of his legs, Sebastian was panting and his back arching off the rug, but Nial’s grip on his arms kept him anchored on the floor.

“Oh god, have mercy on me,” Sebastian moaned, his Irish sound much stronger than she’d ever heard it as Winter spread his thighs and settled between them. A fine sheen of sweat showed on his temples.

“I don’t think your god is listening,” Nial told him. “But pray if you like. You’ll need it.” He stroked Sebastian’s neck with his tongue as Winter curled her hand around Sebastian’s long, hard shaft. His cock was throbbing, with a wide head that flared with dark purple edges that promised all sorts of erotic delight.

She ran her tongue along the length of it, making Sebastian hiss and buck in Nial’s grip. His hands closed into tight fists.

Winter closed her mouth around the big head and pushed it deep inside her throat.

“Ah…god,” Sebastian cried.

“Don’t come yet,” Nial said softly.

Winter began to work Sebastian’s cock, keeping tabs inside his body on his growing arousal and backing off whenever he came too near to climax so that she was able to keep him at the brink for minutes on end.

Sebastian writhed in helpless desperation, his breath growing short.

“I’m going to let him up,” Nial warned. “You’ve been cruel long enough.”

Winter sat up. “Wait just a moment. I have an idea.” She straddled Sebastian’s chest and leaned forward to whisper in Nial’s ear behind her hand.

After thirty seconds of whispering, she felt Sebastian shift under her. With a roar, he sat up, bringing her with him. Nial had apparently forgotten to keep him pinned while she was whispering to him.

Sebastian dumped her on the carpet on her back, lifted her thigh and buried himself in her pussy in one hard thrust that made him grunt and Winter moan and clutch at the rug, her fingers digging in.

Sebastian paused, looking down at her. Winter knew what he was thinking. Three years of denial and here they were at last, locked together physically. It felt every bit as good as she had fantasized it to be. But this moment was not at all how she had thought it might happen. Or Sebastian either, she guessed.

Sebastian touched her lips. “This is even better,” he whispered.

It was.

“Stay still,” she murmured back.

Nial’s arm wrapped around Sebastian’s waist from behind.

“It’s about to get even better,” she told Sebastian.

He sucked in a breath, his eyes drifting shut. “You set me up,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Yes,” she agreed. “The only time I’ll do it, Bastian. For fun, for pleasure.”

He drew in a shuddering breath and thrust into her with a groan.

Winter rolled her head to the side and looked at their reflections in the long lounge window. Sebastian spread over her, urgently fucking her with his body all sinews and muscles. Nial, his shaft sliding into Sebastian in a coordinated erotic dance of male muscles and strength, tension showing in every tightly held joint.

Winter came with a scream as her climax slammed through her with unexpected and profound impact. A second climax tore through her as Sebastian’s cock continued to impale her with harder and harder strokes, his pelvis kissing her swollen clitoris.

Sebastian came with a pent-up roar a heartbeat after her, his fingers clawing the rug, his head thrown back, the tendons in his neck standing out.

Nial lowered himself to the rug beside them, breathing hard. His cock was still jutting, hard and ready, but he wore a small smile and brushed the hair from her face. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it, then kissed Sebastian’s temple as he lay recovering over Winter.

“Amici mei,” he said.

Sebastian smiled and kissed Winter, then eased himself from her body. “I’m not done with either of you, yet.”

Nial snorted. “I should hope not.”

* * *

“I’m assuming ‘amici may’ is Latin?” Winter said as she luxuriated in hot water up to her shoulders.

The huge spa bath was built for at least six people and right now held three. Her hair was pinned on top of her head and she was feeling relaxed…and very horny and aroused, for both Nial and Sebastian were stroking her legs under the water. Just gentle strokes, around her ankles and insteps, but two pairs of hands, one to each leg, was driving her quickly insane.

“Amici mei,” Sebastian said. “It means ‘my lovers’. Yes, it’s Latin. Once, Nial used to call me ‘Dilectus’—‘my lover’.”

Dilecta. Nial had used that word with her, too.

“And now I can again,” Nial said easily.

“There was another word you used,” Winter said. She frowned. “I can’t remember it now.”

Nial picked up her hand and kissed it. “I doubt it. There are few endearments I can use from Latin. They sound ugly to English speakers.”

“It’s the way you speak it that is the problem. You haven’t got a romantic bone in your body, for all you’re a hot-blooded Roman,” Sebastian told him. “You’ve got lazy. You haven’t had to woo a lady for centuries. You couldn’t whisper sweet nothings in Winter’s ear and make her swoon if you tried.”

Nial lifted Winter’s foot from the water and nibbled the inside of her ankle. “I have no need to do that. I can make her scream whenever I wish.” The heated look in his eyes and what he was doing to her ankle made Winter gasp, then moan as his hand slid along the inside of her leg.

Sebastian’s lips touched her cheekbone. “Mo stóirín, beidh mé in ann tú isteach i mo lámha,” he murmured. His eyes were so green, so intense, focused just on her and the words he spoke sounded beautiful.

“Everything comes out sounding like poetry in Gaelic,” Nial complained, flicking water. “And you have the home ground advantage, Irishman.”

“Half-Irish. I think,” Sebastian said, not pulling his gaze away from Winter. “Nial is an ungraceful loser, have you noticed?”

She smiled.

“Very well,” Sebastian said. He lifted her chin gently with his finger, his big body settling closer to hers in the warm water, making her feel smaller and weaker. Feminine. He was looking into her eyes again. Seeing her soul? All she knew was that his gaze was doing things to her insides, making them melt and ache. “Faciam donec amorem tuum potes ultra resistere et nocti petimus hoc diligunt,” he whispered in a lilting voice. His lips touched her with a gentle sweetness that made her sigh. “Say yes, dilecta,” he breathed.

“Yes,” she murmured. She barely cared what she was saying yes to. His children, his sex slave…if it meant more of that, she was in.

Sebastian smiled and kissed her again, then sat back, glancing at Nial.

Nial’s face had lost its humour. It had been replaced with a powerful, raw, open lust. With a jolt Winter realized Nial was no longer bothering to hide his feelings from either of them. He was radiating exactly what he felt and he wanted them both. Sebastian’s demonstration had worked unexpectedly. As much as Winter liked to watch Nial and Sebastian together, Nial had just discovered how much he was aroused by the sight of them touching and kissing.

Winter cleared her throat. “What did you tell me, anyway?” she asked Sebastian.

“He said, ‘I will make love to you until you can no longer stand and you beg for another night like this’,” Nial translated. He reached for her. “I’m in complete agreement,” he growled. He threaded her arms along the back of the bath, then lifted her up so that her breasts rose out of the water.

He glanced at Sebastian, then lowered his mouth to the tip of her wet breast and closed his lips and teeth around the nipple, as his hand cupped and squeezed the full mound of breast.

Sebastian pushed through the water again and took her other breast into his mouth with a hungry sound.

Winter hung onto the edge of the bath, her mind dazed and syrupy with the power of the need building in her. She twisted and trembled in the water as the two men played with her, their light and dark heads bowed over her breasts, their lips and teeth and tongues playing twin medleys.

Sebastian’s hands were the first to slide further down her body, but Nial’s were the first fingers to slip inside her, making her gasp.

Then Sebastian’s hand was also exploring her folds, twining around Nial’s fingers, working with them to tug at her clit. Winter bucked, moaning desperately. But they didn’t spare her. Fingers—she couldn’t tell whose or how many—drove into her pussy, spreading her. The delicious rough feel of knuckles and fingertips against the wall of her pussy made her groan and her hips to thrust.

Then more fingers were probing at her anus, pressing inside her. Stretching her open.

Winter’s climax began to shudder through her as the multiple digits probed and thrust and Nial and Sebastian’s mouths still drew on her breasts. Her eyes closed and she gripped the spa as the climax blossomed and peaked. She cried out, shaking.

When she opened her eyes again, Nial and Sebastian were watching her. Both of them were smiling. Their hands were no longer in her body.

“What?” she asked.

Sebastian looked at Nial. “I want to be in her for the next one.”

Nial nodded. Then he turned back to her and helped her up. “You have such a look on your face when you climax… It is a compliment a man finds hard to resist. It makes him want to repeat himself over and over.”

“Damn right,” Sebastian growled, climbing from the bath. He pulled a big Turkish towel down from the racks and shook it out, then held it out for Winter to step into as Nial lifted her out of the bath.

Nial plucked the pins from her hair. “That’s much better,” he declared as it rained down around her waist, tangling with the folds of the towel.

The two men dried off quickly. Sebastian walked into the bedroom naked, his buttocks taut, his erection undiminished.

Nial picked Winter up.

“I can walk, you know,” she reminded him.

“Why should you?” he asked, sounding perfectly reasonable.

She couldn’t find an answer by the time he laid her on the big bed next to where Sebastian lay on his side, his head on one hand. He reached out to flip the towel aside as Nial pulled it from the other end and tossed it toward the hamper.

Winter shivered. Her nipples were hard pebbles.

“Cold?” Nial asked.

She shook her head and drew in a steadying breath.

Nial smiled, a heated expression that promised wickedness and delight. “No fear at all?”

Winter shook her head. “Not since you took me already, Nial. How could I have any fear? It’s you and Sebastian.”

Nial took a deep breath, his eyes closing. “You honour us,” he murmured. Then he opened his eyes and the fiery, wicked gleam was back. “Brace yourself, Tera.”

Sebastian turned her face toward him and kissed her. “Honeyed apricots,” he murmured. “Intoxicating.” His hand was playing with her breast, making her squirm, making her hot once more.

Then Nial’s hand smoothed over her belly, making her gasp in shock instead. He cupped her mons and her thighs fell open helplessly, even as Sebastian’s tongue was sliding down her throat, masking her view of what Nial was doing.

Cool gel touched her cleft and was spread over her folds in sensual caresses, making her arch on the bed under Sebastian’s hands and mouth. Nial pushed the gel into her ass, working it deep.

Winter was more responsive to the lightest touch than she had ever been and she knew it was because she had both Nial and Sebastian touching her. There was a completeness to the sensations and it was overwhelming. She reached for Sebastian, her arms trembling. “Quickly,” she breathed.

“Nial,” Sebastian urged.

She felt the bed move and Nial’s long length fit itself next to her. “Come here, dilecta,” he murmured. His arms were around her waist, lifting her again. He lowered her so that she was straddling him and his control and strength were great enough that he could lower her onto his cock, which jutted up ready to receive her.

She slid onto him until he was buried deep inside her and her clit was pushed up hard against his pelvis. Winter gasped as Nial pushed the hair from her face, kissed her with rough tenderness, then slowly rolled onto his back, bringing her with him.

Winter rested against his chest, her heart thundering, her gaze locked on Nial’s eyes as he watched her face.

Sebastian stroked her back and her ass. “Beautiful,” he said, his voice contorted with excitement. His hands continued to stroke and tease, moving between her ass cheeks and making her hips shift and make tiny thrusting motions.

“Ah…gods,” Nial breathed.

Sebastian’s fingers pressed inside her and she gasped. The sensation was even better when Nial was already inside her pussy. Fuller, richer.

“More,” she said, but the word came out husky. A throaty, used voice.

Sebastian worked more fingers in, stretching her, testing her, but Winter couldn’t stand it. “Fuck me, Bastian!” she begged, and it emerged in that same husky contralto.

Nial groaned. “Do it,” he begged. “She is milking me from the inside.”

“Sweet…” Sebastian murmured. His fingers left her and were replaced with a blunt, wider probe. His cock.

Winter clutched at Nial again as her pleasure seemed to peak and then climb even further. She was reading Nial through her contact with him and his own pleasure was spiralling as he watched her with his blue eyes glittering in the low light.

Sebastian eased into her a fraction of an inch at a time, widening the anus muscle, stretching it in a way her vagina was never taxed. Winter moaned as she felt the width of both of their cocks inside her. She wanted to move, to wriggle, but knew that Sebastian was taking his time so that he didn’t hurt her and kept still. But the delightful sensations were building, making her moan and whimper almost continuously as he slid carefully inside her.

When he was finally seated fully inside her Winter turned her head to look at him and smile as Sebastian settled over her on his hands.

“This is perfect,” she murmured. “How did I go so long without this?” She turned to Nial. “This is all your fault, Nial. You should have arranged this years ago.”

Nial gave a short laugh. “We’ve unleashed a monster,” he told Sebastian. He gathered Winter in his arms. “Ready?”

“Gods, yes,” she said, borrowing his oath.

She saw the flash of his smile, then he and Sebastian began to thrust together. That was when her world shrank down to three of them and the incredible sensations building in her. The power of the coming climax frightened her a little and she reached for Nial, her hands pressing into his firm shoulders. Winter could feel him moving underneath her, striving for his own peak and she could read his pleasure building, too.

She gasped at the twin contact. It was like touching live wires. It jolted her with a sensual shock that sent her mentally and physically reeling, as her own body was already close to spilling over into an explosive orgasm of its own.

As she mentally staggered, she reached out…and found Sebastian. She dipped into him instinctively, looking for stability and found instead a second pool of molten arousal.

Winter screamed as her body exploded into a climax that shook not just her body, but her mind, heart and soul. She felt a hand over her heart and teeth at her neck as she paused for a small eon, her body pulsing around Nial and Sebastian.

In that endless moment as she floated in the sea of perfect pleasure, finally, the scales fell away from her eyes and she understood what Nial had been begging her to understand. Winter knew four things for certain.

She loved Nial as deeply as she loved Sebastian.

She trusted Sebastian’s instincts about people absolutely. He had never been wrong the entire time they worked together.

Sebastian had left Nial because of his relentless power mongering.

Nial would not have commissioned Sebastian and her for this Flatiron building job by himself. Who was standing behind him? Who was Nial really in league with?

Sebastian and Nial laid her gently on the bed between them and she looked into Nial’s eyes as he wiped the tear from her cheek as she came to the final horrible conclusion.

Nial couldn’t be trusted.

Chapter Twenty-One

She woke to warm arms around her and lips against the corner of her jaw and smiled. There was no disorientation. “Sebastian,” she murmured.

“What gave me away?” he asked, his lips brushing over her skin.

“Your body heat, your scent, your lips, your breath and the way you’re holding me,” she told him. “And your body just feels different up against mine.”

Sunlight bathed the bed and she blinked against the light, but the windows must be polarized on this level, too, because she didn’t feel the need to wince against the direct glare. “What time is it?” she asked.

“About ten. I brought you breakfast.”

She sniffed. “Ham. Mmmm. You’ve turned into a decent cook, Sebastian.”

“You can call me Bastian. I like the way you say it.” His hand cupped her breast and rolled her nipple, making her breath catch.

Her stomach growled noisily.

Sebastian laughed and let her up. “I can understand that internal signal as well as you can.” He handed her Nial’s robe. “Here. The gravy is hot. You don’t want it on your skin.” He placed a big breakfast tray in front of her.

Winter pushed her arms into the silk robe and tied it shut, then smoothed her hand over the front of it. “Where is Nial?” she asked, as she picked up the knife and fork.

Sebastian settled on the bed in front of her. He was back to wearing jeans that clung to every taut curve and a collarless shirt that was so aged it looked as soft as down. His chest showed, firm and tanned, above the open neck. His forearms and the strong wrists were displayed below the rolled sleeves. He hadn’t bothered with shoes yet.

“Nial went downtown,” Sebastian told her. “He said he had a couple of appointments and took off early this morning. You looked exhausted so we let you sleep.”

“Pity. I have a couple of questions for him.”

Sebastian cocked his head. “Such as?”

She bit into the ham and eggs, suddenly ravenous. It had been over eighteen hours since she had eaten. After two quick mouthfuls, while Sebastian waited patiently, she sipped from the coffee cup and swallowed. “Such as who Nial is working with.”

Sebastian wrapped his intertwined fingers around one bent knee. “You’re not talking about you and me, are you?” His voice was mellow.

She shook her head as she chewed. Then, “He’s not in this for himself, Bastian. There’s someone behind him and he’s carefully shielding them from us.”

Sebastian shrugged. “Lot of jobs come to us via a front man.”

“Not one who works his way into our bed.”

Sebastian straightened up quickly. So quickly it was like she had slapped him. Or shocked him. “No, Winter. You’re wrong. One hundred and eighty degrees wrong.”

“Am I?” She shrugged. “I asked for honesty of emotions but I was careless. I forgot to ask him why he was bothering about all this in the first place. He never did explain why he just suddenly decided to look you up after four years. We both got distracted by him offering the job. He never said why he was doing the offering.”

“Nial has abided by your demands all along. Honesty of emotions isn’t enough for you?” Sebastian asked. “You have to trust him, Winter. Please.”

She stopped eating to look at him.

Sebastian sighed and sat back. “Damn, I said too much.”

“Yep.” She picked up her coffee cup. “What do you know that I don’t?”

He shook his head. “I can’t say.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

“Won’t. If you want to know, you need to ask Nial.”

She studied Sebastian. “Is he manipulating me, Bastian?” she whispered, her heart thundering.

Sebastian’s reply took forever. “He’s doing everything in his power not to manipulate you.”

Winter put her cup down. “Then he won’t tell me if I ask him, will he?”

Sebastian shook his head. “Probably not the direct question. But you could try being sneaky.”

“Do you know who Nial is working with?”

“The vampire faction?” Sebastian shook his head. “He hasn’t told me either, but I know this much. He’s troubled about something.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He spent the night talking to Julius and Marcus after you and I fell asleep. I found them on his desk this morning.”

Winter simply looked at Sebastian, expecting an explanation.

“He was reading Plutarch’s Parallel Lives and Julius Caesar’s writings—in the original Latin, of course,” Sebastian explained. “Marc Antony and Julius Caesar, the two greatest Roman generals and strategists who ever lived. He gets inspiration from them when he’s stuck for answers.” He picked up a piece of ham from her plate and ate it, with a grin. “Nial thinks Mark Antony would kick the ass of any modern army if he was bought back and put in charge of the US military, with all the firepower they have. The US military personnel wouldn’t know what hit ‘em, with Mark Antony lickin’ ‘em into shape with Roman discipline.”

He rolled off the bed and stood up, his smile fading. “Give him time, Winter.”

“Time for what?” she asked. “How much time?”

Sebastian took a breath, as if he meant to answer, then let it out, frustrated.

“You can’t answer,” she said flatly.

“Just trust him,” he replied.

“Tall order,” she shot back. “You spent years telling me not to, that he used people, pushed them around and worse. Now you’re telling me the complete opposite.”

His shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath. “I know.”

“Don’t you even want to try and remain a little consistent?”

“Haven’t you ever broken up with someone before?”

“No.”

“No?” He seemed shocked.

Winter put her knife and fork down and slid off the bed. “No,” she repeated. She picked up the tray, annoyed.

“What, they all dumped you?”

“No.” She headed out of the bedroom, intending to drop the tray in the kitchen. The robe, too big for her, trailed on the ground behind her like a train. Sebastian followed like a satellite.

“You’ve had relationships,” he insisted. “I’ve seen them.”

“Have you?” she asked. “What exactly did you see?” She climbed down the circular stairwell carefully.

“Fine, you tell me, then.”

“Nothing that last longer than four days,” she said, stepping onto the lower floor and heading for the kitchen counter.

“No! I would have remembered that. I would have!” Sebastian declared.

“Clearly not,” she said, putting the tray down and turning around to face him. “You say you were watching me all the time, but you weren’t really seeing me. Not always. You were idealizing me for some of it. The perfect lover, the perfect human mate who also happened to be just out of reach. It made life nicely Byronic and angst-filled for you. Except now I’m not human and I’m not out of reach, and now I have to be in your life.”

“What are you saying?” he asked, his tone suddenly sharp and low. All levity had fled.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, Sebastian. But in a while, a month or two, you might begin to feel like you’ve been forced into it. Manipulated, you might say.”

His mouth opened as if he were about to speak but Winter touched his lips, silencing him.

“The longest relationship I’ve ever had is with Nial. I’m on day two with you, now, so you’re warming up in the wings for second longest if you stick around a day or two longer. I’ve never broken up with anyone. They’ve all just…drifted away. I don’t know why and since that first job you and I did, I really didn’t care to know why, either, because I didn’t want them in my life long term. They weren’t you.”

“Jesus, Winter. How to make a man feel like an absolute heel and a prince in the same moment,” Sebastian murmured. He pulled her into his arms. His shirt was as soft as down and she stroked it with her cheek.

His hand toyed with her hair. “Of course I said terrible things about Nial. I was frustrated, lonely and on my own for the first time in two hundred and fifty years and that frankly terrified me for a while. I never stopped loving him, even while I resented the hell out of him. What was worse was knowing that Nial knew it all along. There was a kernel of truth in everything I told you about him, but I exaggerated nearly all of it because I was angry and I stayed angry for years. I stayed angry because I was torn between you and Nial.”

Winter lifted her head to look up at him. He smiled gently. There was warmth and peace in his eyes, so unlike what she was used to seeing.

“And you realized this…?” she prompted.

“When I brought you breakfast just now and saw you lying in Nial’s bed, where I’ve seen Nial lying so many times before.” He picked up her hand and for a moment she thought he would kiss the back of it the way Nial did. But Sebastian threaded his fingers through hers and kissed her palm, his eyes closing like he was experiencing the most delightful sensation as he did it. “You always smell glorious.” His sea green eyes opened and gazed at her steadily. “I need you to trust Nial, just for a while longer. If you can’t do it for his sake, do it for mine.”

How could she refuse him? “I will,” she assured him gently.

And with perfect timing, the chime announcing the elevator sounded.

“Nial,” Sebastian said with a smile.

They both turned as the elevator doors opened and Nial stepped out. A very different Nial from the normally charming, well-groomed, sophisticated man she was used to seeing.

He was barefoot. He wore what looked like a pair of suit trousers, but they were so ripped and filthy it was hard to tell. They were daubed in dark stains.

The rest of him was hidden under an oversized white Nike hoodie, with the hood pulled over his head and down as far over his face as it was possible to get it. The clean hoodie was startling in comparison to the rest of his dirty outfit.

Winter surged out of Sebastian’s arms at the sight of him.

Sebastian swore “What the hell happened?” he added.

Nial held up his hand. “Don’t touch me,” he told them. “I’m an offense to the nose and hand.” He reached up and lifted the hood back.

Winter smothered her cry with her hand. Nial’s face was covered in dried blood. Now she understood the reason for the hood. If he had walked the streets openly in that state he would have drawn the wrong sort of attention.

His eyes seemed feral under the coating of blood as he unzipped the hoodie and dropped it to the floor.

His chest was similarly coated in blood and dirt so for several seconds Winter didn’t see the big pink scar running parallel with the edge of his ribcage, from the centre of his chest to just over the top of his left hip. It was new and ugly. She reached out to touch it, to analyze it.

“Don’t touch me,” Nial repeated. “Don’t touch anything,” he added. “Winter, there’s bug spray under the kitchen sink. Spray everything while I shower. I’ll take it up to the roof after I’m clean and burn the lot.”

As he spoke he continued to undress until he was naked. Beneath the hoodie, his body was bare except for the trousers. He wore no belt. Nor did he have a watch, she realized. And he pulled nothing from his pockets.

“Your wallet,” she said.

He nodded. “Bastian, do you remember my computer passwords?”

Sebastian nodded.

“Good. I need you to log on and start up the processes for replacing all my IDs and credit cards. Advise all the usual people about stolen cards. Pretend you’re me for twenty minutes until I get clean.” He grimaced, looking at his bloody hands. “If I can.”

“You were mugged?” Sebastian asked. “You?”

Nial shook his head. “Not even close. But please, let me wash this crud away first. It’s like a statement of disaster clinging to me. Then a full explanation, I promise.” He turned and strode toward the stairwell, moving strong and confidently, despite the huge scar across his torso.

Winter watched him move, her heart slamming in her chest.

“Winter.”

She looked up at Sebastian. From his tone, she guessed it wasn’t the first time he had spoken her name. She blinked. “That scar! The blood!”

Sebastian shook his head. “He’s fine. You saw him walk away. He’s moving normally. Come on, we need to sort things out for him while he cleans up. Something’s going on.” He turned her toward the kitchen. “Bug spray, Winter.”

She nodded and moved toward the kitchen, trying to bring her emotions and her thoughts under control. What was wrong with her?

She sampled her biochemistry, trying to analyze it the way she would anyone else, and came to a stumbling, shocked halt half-way back toward the pile of clothing Nial had left two paces from the doors of the elevator.

She was half an inch away from hysterical. She had all the symptoms of someone in panic mode. No wonder Sebastian had shepherded her toward the kitchen like a five year old child in need of tutoring.

She gripped the spray can and started walking again, attacking her internal symptoms, neutralizing them, bringing them back under control. But that didn’t remove the mental fear and surprise at her own over-the-top reaction to Nial’s return home.

Winter carefully sprayed the garments, picking them up with the tips of her fingers and laying them out flat to minimize folds and pockets where bugs might hide, embracing the minor chore and busying herself.

But she kept seeing the thick dark pink line of scar tissue across Nial’s body as she worked, and his face covered in blood when he dropped the hood. The images wouldn’t go away.

When the disreputable clothing was doused, she put the can of spray away and headed for the pocket made by the elevator shaft, where Nial kept his office.

Sebastian was working on the computer, a fine line between his brows. His fingers moved quickly and competently over the keys.

Winter hugged herself, a shiver catching her by surprise.

Sebastian glanced up once, but then his frown smoothed out and he looked at her properly. “What is it?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

“From the way you’re holding yourself, you look like you need a hug,” Sebastian said.

Winter bit her lip. Until he’d suggested it, the idea hadn’t occurred to her. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want,” she said. “But if you put your arms around me right now, Sebastian, I don’t think I…I mean, I’ll be…shit.” She stopped trying to find the words and just looked at him.

Sebastian reached for her hand and pulled her into his lap. “You don’t know anything about lovers, do you?” He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her head gently against his shoulder. “You’re allowed to cry. That’s one of our functions—we get to see you cry and be pathetic and scared and all the other things you’d never let the rest of the world see.” His voice reverberated in his chest, strong and deeply reassuring.

Just the mention of crying brought the tears to her eyes, scalding hot and making her eyes ache. Her chest hurt and made her breath jam up in her throat.

Sebastian put her arms around his neck. “We keep it to ourselves because the deal is we get to comfort you and make you feel better, and there’s nothing as good in the world as bringing a smile back to your lover’s lips.”

Winter tightened her arms. “I don’t even know why I’m crying,” she whispered.

Sebastian kissed her temple. “You’re crying because Nial got hurt and you’re not used to seeing it.”

“And you are?” she asked, appalled. “How often does it happen?”

“Not very often at all,” he told her, smoothing her hair back from her face with his thumb in a caress that was meant to soothe and reassure, but made Winter distantly aware once more of Sebastian’s size. It was only when he stood next to Nial that Sebastian looked shorter. Next to most other men, he was the tall one. The stronger one.

His strength didn’t just come from muscle. To have lived so long and so secretly, Sebastian would have a reinforced industrial strength will to live.

“You’ve seen Nial hurt often enough to be casual about this,” Winter said.

“Not casual,” Sebastian replied. “Never that. But I understand the healing process, the vast outer limitations of vampire recuperation.”

He unwound her arms from his neck and tilted her chin up so that she was forced to look him in the eye, tear-stained cheeks and all. His gaze was steady. “I also know how well Nial can defend himself. I’ve seen him too many times—” His gaze shifted inward and for a moment she knew he was recalling memories of other times and places. The fine line between his brows came back and she wanted to reach up and erase it with her fingertips. “There’ve been too many of those times,” he said flatly. “Not in the last handful of decades, although there were a few, but further back…” The line deepened for a moment, then he took a breath and it disappeared and he refocused on her face. “I’ve seen Nial cornered, I’ve seen him face overwhelming odds. I’ve seen him fight his way of situations that would make Navy SEALs puke in fear. Nial is a survivor. He simply doesn’t give up, especially up here.” Sebastian tapped his temple.

Winter nodded. “Okay,” she said, trying to make it sound convincing. All she could see was a mental snapshot of the ragged pink scar across Nial’s body. “But someone got to him,” she added.

Sebastian nodded. “He’s going to tell us why.” He picked up her hand again, his fingers threading through hers. Winter thought he might kiss her palm again, but Sebastian simply rested his hand on her thigh, her own curled in his big palm. “He’s a strategist, Winter. Never more so than when he’s reduced to having to fight his way out of a situation. I don’t know if he was born that way or learned it over the years, but even while he’s beating down the opposition, Nial will be figuring out odds, better ways to swing the advantage his way, potential schemes, moves that’ll win his hand for him, and he’ll adjust his planning with every move the opposition makes. If they put a single foot wrong, show the tiniest flaw or weakness, they’re screwed. Nial will use that chink to open them up wide and lay their entrails on the ground for carrion to fight over.”

Winter swallowed. “You’re…you are speaking figuratively, right?”

Sebastian grinned. “If we’re only talking about the last eighty years or so. But the slimy bastard absolutely deserved it. He was using children to run his gambling money around Chicago and paying them a pittance, then hitting their families up for rent and taking it right back. If they couldn’t afford rent, he’d take the children in lieu. Slavery, in other words.” Sebastian’s mouth turned down. “The Depression was just that. Depressing.”

Winter licked her lips. She knew without a doubt why Nial had done what he did with the man in Chicago. Slavery of any sort would enrage him.

She reached for a change of subject. “Then you’re saying Nial thinks on his feet?”

Sebastian pursed his lips, assessing. They had done this many times when working together—toted up an opponent’s physical and mental abilities using the criteria peculiar to their odd profession. “I’ve never met anyone better or faster than him. Including you and me.”

She took a deep breath. Let it out. “But if he’s that good, what does it say about how good the people are who carved up his chest?”

Sebastian shook his head. “Perhaps there were dozens of them, perhaps there were humans around and he couldn’t use all his strength and speed. Until he tells us there’s no point in speculating. You don’t know what happened and wondering is just chewing up juices. You need to stop thinking about it.”

“Easy for you to say. You’ve had practice.”

Sebastian picked up the end of the tie around her waist. “I could distract you, if you like,” he offered, pulling at the bow and making it start to loosen. There was a hot gleam in his eye.

Winter wrapped her arm around his neck once more, pressing her breast against his chest. Longing washed through her. “You could,” she agreed. Her breasts grew heavy and hard-tipped and she suddenly wanted more than anything to have Sebastian slide his hand through the loosened and gaping opening in Nial’s robe and claim one.

Magically, Sebastian lifted his hand and pushed beneath the silk. She caught her breath as he cupped her breast, his fingers snagging on her puckered, sensitive nipple.

Sebastian drew her head closer. “Just as distracting for me,” he murmured and kissed her.

His lips were a warm drug. Honey to her senses. Winter slowly melted against him, undone by a kiss and a caress.

“There’s a sight,” Nial said.

Winter gasped as Sebastian let the office chair turn a few degrees, enough for her to see Nial standing where the wall hiding the elevator shaft ended and the bigger room opened up.

He wore track pants and a tank top, both black, and his hair was wet from the shower. He was barefoot still.

Winter scrambled off Sebastian’s lap and threw her arms around Nial. She hadn’t consciously planned it. Her body moved independently of her mind. But she found herself in Nial’s arms, her face against his shoulder and the strongest urge to simply hold onto him. Tightly.

“Hey, you’re trembling,” he murmured. “Sebastian isn’t that good.”

“If I was, I would have been better able to distract her,” Sebastian said dryly.

Nial hesitated. “I see.” His arms tightened. “I’m fine, as you can see.”

“I know,” she answered, her voice muffled against his chest. She rested her hand against his midriff, where the scar would be beneath the tank top. “I’m being pathetic. Give me a moment and I’ll shrug it off.”

“Oh no, you don’t,” Nial replied. He bent and scooped her up in his arms, moving easily and showing no signs of any pain or unease. He carried her to the desk and sat her on it, careless of the papers beneath her ass. He pushed between her knees and took her face in his hands. “Honesty, remember?” he told her.

“Even if it makes me look like a three year old?” She smiled ruefully. “I have my pride.”

“And I have my ego,” he replied. “What is the harm in letting me know the degree to which you were worried about me?”

Winter was caught by his steady, expectant gaze. She couldn’t think of a single reason, except one: Nial would know how much she cared about him. Why was she hiding that? Why hadn’t she told him yet?

“Because you scare me,” she said, answering his question and her own at the same time.

His hands shifted and dropped away from her face. “I scare you,” he repeated flatly. He considered that. “You don’t trust me,” he concluded. “Even with something as simple as how upset you might have been over the scratch I got, you fear I might exploit it as a weakness in you. That is why you don’t tell me.”

“Nial—” Sebastian said with a chiding tone from behind the desk.

Nial shook his head. “I have finished,” he said, his tone back to flat and lifeless. He looked down at her. “You’re right. Honesty does come with a high price tag.”

“Nial, you’re taking this completely out of context,” Winter said, horrified at the sudden and terrible turn in the conversation.

“You’re extrapolating way too much,” Sebastian added.

“Am I?” Nial asked, his tone bitter. He didn’t look at Sebastian. He was watching her. Demanding an answer of her.

She pushed the bottom of his tank top up to expose the scar. “How else am I to react when I see—”

It was gone. Nial’s stomach and chest looked perfectly normal. Winter ran her fingers over the approximate line where the scar had been. There was nothing there.

“We heal perfectly,” Nial said stiffly. “It isn’t healing as you understand it.”

“It’s restoration,” she breathed. “I heal, you just restore yourself to the same timeless version.”

“You understand,” Nial said.

“No wonder there is no pain when you heal. It’s not the same at all.”

“Winter,” Nial said, his voice low. “You need to leave now.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Winter looked up at Nial, startled, for his voice wasn’t just flat this time. It was strained.

Nial’s eyes had dilated to the point where the irises were almost fully consumed by the pupils. There was no blue left. He rolled his head like he was trying to reduce an ache in his neck, or reduce a strain, and she saw that his canines were showing. “Leave,” he growled, fisting his hands.

Sebastian lurched from his chair behind the desk and leaned over it to grab Winter’s arm. He slid her out from in front of Nial even as he was moving around to the front of the desk where Nial stood. “He’s ravenous, Winter, and you have a pulse. Come. Come here.”

He pulled her to her feet and backed away from Nial, putting Winter behind him. Nial turned to follow them.

“He’s fighting off the bloodlust,” Sebastian told her. “At least until you’re gone.”

“And then what?” she demanded, hauling the hem of the robe up with her hands to avoid tripping over it. The front of the robe was hanging open, the ties loose. Had she started this, somehow?

“He can feed from me,” Sebastian said. “There’s no time now to find a willing donor, anyway. This obviously caught him by surprise.”

Winter stepped out from behind Sebastian. “You can feed from me,” she told Nial. She dropped the robe from her shoulders and moved to stand in front of him.

He shook his head. “Not if you fear me. Not like this.”

She felt Sebastian at her back. “He won’t have a lot of control this time,” he whispered.

Winter nodded. “I’ll heal.” She laid her hand over Nial’s heart. “This isn’t the part of you I fear, Nial. None of us in this room is human. Who am I to judge or fear what you are?” She pulled her hair back behind her, baring her shoulder. “Go ahead,” she told him.

Nial’s knuckles whitened. Then, with a soft growl in the back of his throat, he grabbed her and spun her around to face Sebastian, who stood bare inches away, a deep furrow between his brows. Nial’s fingers turned her chin, making her head tilt to one side and exposing the line of her shoulder. Extending it.

Sebastian moved even closer, almost pressing up against her. But he was watching Nial and Winter knew he was ready to intervene if this went badly.

Her heart started to race.

“I hear your fear,” Nial snarled in her ear in a voice that wasn’t his own. Then he bit her.

This was no lover’s bite. His teeth sank into her and tore back, opening up her veins. But before Winter could feel any of the pain such wounds should deliver, the aphrodisiac hit her system.

She moaned as intense, overwhelming need raged through her. Her knees weakened and she felt her body slump. But Nial was holding her up, feeding from her. Distantly, she could feel the sensations of blood being pulled from her, but she didn’t care. She just wanted more of the intense pleasure circling through her. She wanted Nial’s hands to move over her, to not just stroke and caress, but to take her the same raw, feral way he was feeding.

She wanted to writhe in sweet agony but Nial held her so firmly in his grip she could barely move. It enhanced her arousal. She could feel her entire body throbbing with desire.

“Tera.” A soft whisper.

She opened her eyes. Sebastian was watching her, concern thinning his wonderful mouth. But a flicker of craving touched his eyes. He was affected by the sight of her locked in Nial’s arms like this. Helpless while Nial fed from her.

“Touch me,” she pleaded.

Sebastian’s tongue touched his lip, signaling how tempted he was. Then he shook his head. “If I move you in any way at all, he’ll tear you open.”

“Please,” she begged.

Sebastian groaned and pressed himself up against her. He wrapped his arms around both her and Nial, anchoring them all. Winter felt the thick rod of his raging cock through his jeans, pressing up against her. It made her clit spasm, sending a brief sparkle of ecstasy through her and she gave a choked cry.

Nial echoed the cry with a growl, his arms tightening against her. The pulling sensation at her neck was slackening. He was reaching satiation.

The tightening of his arms held her more firmly against Nial’s body and now she could feel how wildly aroused he was. His cock wasn’t just erect, it was pulsing with the energy he would be gaining from her blood.

Sebastian stroked her lips with his tongue, before delving inside her mouth. The intimate caress made her sigh. But she needed more. Moisture gushed from between her legs, preparing her for something other than gentle kisses.

Nial lifted his head from her neck with a long drawn out exhalation. A sigh of repletion.

Sebastian lifted his head to kiss him. Winter turned her head in time to see their lips join. Nial’s were coated with blood. Her blood.

Sebastian licked Nial’s lips clean and pulled back. There was an odd light in his eyes, as if he were remembering the taste with longing.

Nial licked her neck. At first she thought he was merely ensuring he took the last of her blood from the surface of her skin. But then she felt the tingling and warmth around the bite marks and knew that he was healing her bite marks.

This was something familiar. Something she had already experienced. “Nial,” she breathed, knowing that he had returned to the familiar man she knew. Her blood had satisfied his lust.

His tongue slid along her neck, toward her ear. “Your blood tastes spicy, like good mulled wine,” he breathed. “Expensive and addictive.”

She shivered.

“You honor me. You have my thanks,” he whispered. His hands were stroking her. Gentle, teasing strokes. Already Nial knew more about bringing forth the best responses from her body and he was working that magic now. She gasped at the sensations he was provoking. Whatever the aphrodisiac was that he injected, clearly its effect lingered after a feeding. Her nerve endings were all on fire.

“I would do anything you ask, to have you not fear me,” he murmured.

“I don’t fear you. Not like this.”

Sebastian stroked her shoulder, close to where Nial’s bites were rapidly healing and she knew that watching Nial feed had provoked memories of doing the same.

Nial was still pressed up hard against her. She was locked tight between the two of them and her body was pounding with the aching need to be taken by either one of them or both of them. Her heart leapt at the idea of them being in her at the same time once more.

She found her voice. “I want you both. Now.” It emerged low and ragged.

Sebastian exchanged looks with Nial, then gave a small smile and stepped away from her.

Winter reached out for him. “Don’t go!”

He shook his head. “I’m not.”

Nial shifted his hold on her body and she found herself sinking to her knees. His hand against her shoulder—the non-wounded one—forced her onto her hands, too.

Winter looked over her shoulder. Nial was behind her, his sweats low on his hips and his cock free and in his hand. Her pussy tightened at the prospect of the next few minutes.

He settled on his knees behind her, one hand curling around her hip. Winter thought that he might savor the moment and ease into her, but Nial slid into her in one dominating, wild stroke, slamming up against her ass with a harsh exhalation. He was taking her in an almost primitive way and her body responded by tightening around him and her climax beginning to gather deep inside her almost at once. She gasped, lifting her head.

Sebastian was unbuttoning his jeans. His shirt was already gone and his chest, with its soft tan, gleamed in the morning light falling through the windows. He dropped to his knees in front of her and stroked her cheek. “You look drunk.” His voice was thick, heavy with lust.

“Let me taste you,” she breathed.

He groaned and pushed his jeans down his thighs, freeing his hard cock so that it jutted proudly from his body. Winter curled a hand around it and bent her head to take him into her mouth. Sebastian took a shuddering breath and she felt his fingers slide into her hair.

Nial withdrew from her pussy and pushed back in. Hard. It made her gasp around Sebastian’s cock and her climax leap closer. She was going to come quickly and powerfully.

So she concentrated on drawing from Sebastian the most pleasure she could, using her tongue, teeth and lips, hand and pressure to drive him over the edge as quickly as possible.

His fingers clenching in her hair, his labored, uneven breathing and the pulsing of his cock told her she was effective. The task delayed her pleasure just a few seconds longer.

As Sebastian jerked and came in her mouth with a low, strained groan, Winter relaxed and let her climax overpower her. The lush delight of Nial’s cock stroking deep inside her, his pelvis kissing up against her with each in-thrust and the feel of his shaft sliding in and out of her pussy entrance, the bulging veins caressing the walls, was overwhelming.

She came with a cry, just as Sebastian withdrew from her mouth.

Nial’s hand curled over her shoulder—this time, the shoulder he had bitten. His fingers dug in as he slammed into her harder and faster until he came with three deep strokes that pushed up against her cervix.

His hand kept pulling her backwards and up. He was lifting her off her hands. His other hand wrapped around her waist and he settled her on his lap—with him still buried inside her. She could feel his chest rising and falling against her back.

Nial pulled her hair to one side and kissed the place where he had bitten her. She looked down at it. The skin was unmarked. She looked at him. His eyes were normal once more, and he gave her a small smile. “Dilecta,” he murmured.

Sebastian turned her face toward him. “An Coimeádaí mo chroí,” he said and kissed her.

“Amen,” Nial added.

Sebastian straightened and glared at Nial. “And you scared the fucking crap out of us. An explanation is overdue, asshole.”

Nial laughed.

* * *

“There’s a new faction involved in this,” Nial said.

He was sitting on one of the dining chairs he’d pulled up in front of the sofa, his back to the windows. Now he leaned forward, his forearms on his knees, looking intense and earnest.

Sebastian and Winter sat on the sofa in front of him, fresh coffee in their hands. Winter was dressed in her working clothes, which had raised Nial’s brows and made Sebastian chuckle.

“Get used to it,” Sebastian told him. “If the AC goes out, she starts rolling down the top of her pants even lower.”

“It’s a wonder you got any constructive work done at all,” Nial observed.

“I ended up a computer geek for a reason,” Sebastian said dryly.

Winter caught her breath. It was true. Sebastian had often disappeared behind a computer monitor when they were planning or doing dry runs for a job.

Now Sebastian narrowed his eyes as he stared at Nial, his coffee cup cradled in his big hands. “Another faction?” he said flatly. “I thought you were working on behalf of everyone?”

“Hardly,” Nial replied. “None of us knows exactly how many of us there is.”

“Wait,” Winter interrupted. “You’re talking about vampires, right? I just want to be clear here. I know you two are used to the euphemisms and secrecy but we’re all in on the deal and I’m not up on the lingo.”

Sebastian sat back, with a small smile.

Nial pursed his lips for moment. Then he nodded. “Yes, vampires,” he said flatly. “The people I am…working with.”

“Careful word choice there,” Sebastian said. “Does that mean you’re uncertain about your own status with your own people?”

Nial considered the question. “Perhaps. But that’s not the issue for right now. The other faction is.”

“The other faction being?” Winter prompted.

Sebastian shook his head. “No, he’s dodging, Winter.” His eyes narrowed again. “Why isn’t it the issue right now? Who are you working with? Tell us.”

Nial hesitated. “I can’t,” he said at last.

“Can’t, or won’t?” Winter demanded.

“Cannot,” Nial replied. “These people are paying you a vast fee to pull off a job that will ensure their secrecy. That includes secrecy from you. There’s a reason I’m the middleman.”

“You’re acting as an agent?” Sebastian said, disbelief tingeing his voice. “That’s a step down for you, Nial.”

Nial considered them for a moment. “It is,” he agreed flatly.

“Okay, so you won’t tell us about Party A,” Winter said. “What about Party B?”

Sebastian shook his head again, staring at Nial. “No, wait,” he said softly. “He’s trying to tell us something, Winter.”

She studied Nial. He was watching them with a peculiar intensity.

“Can’t you just say it?” she asked. “Why all the word play?”

“There’s a truth-teller among them,” Sebastian breathed.

Nial let out a harsh breath. Relief. He nodded.

“A what?”

“A vampire that can tell truth from lies. A natural lie-detector,” Sebastian said. “Someone like you.”

Winter stared at Nial, remembering something that he said previously. You’re both so close! Stop fighting me on this. They had been asking the right questions then, but had never followed through. “You can’t tell us, but we can guess by asking you the right questions. Is that it?” she asked.

“Some questions I just can’t answer. They’re too dangerous,” he said. “But yes, you’re right on most of it. If you guess, then I can truthfully say I didn’t tell you.” He took a deep breath and sat back in the chair.

“You won’t give us the names of who you’re working for?” Sebastian asked.

Nial shook his head.

“We can figure that out for ourselves,” Winter replied. “Who stands to lose the most if the data we’re stealing gets out?”

“The house member on the video, for one,” Sebastian replied. “Anyone who sits on his coattails, second.”

“Follow the money,” Winter reminded him.

“I can build a money trail in two hours,” Sebastian said. “A list of who gets rich off the house rep’s activities.” He looked at Nial. “Will that have the names of your employers on it?”

Nial nodded.

“All of them?”

He shook his head.

“There are others,” Winter concluded. She shook her head. “We’re maybe getting distracted, though. Just identifying who has a grip on Nial doesn’t give us the total picture.”

Sebastian took a deep breath and let it out.

“What is it?” she asked.

He glanced at Nial. “The idea that someone—anyone—has the power to put a hold on Nial…” He shook his head. “I think hell just froze solid.”

“Don’t get distracted,” Nial said. “I tried to warn you, didn’t I? You don’t really understand how power over others works. You never have. Now you’re getting a taste of the other side of that coin.”

“Abuse of power,” Winter breathed.

Sebastian frowned.

“They’re forcing Nial,” she concluded.

Nial closed his eyes and let out his breath.

“Sweet Jesus,” Sebastian whispered.

“How?” she demanded of Nial. Then she held up her hand. “Scratch that. You can’t answer and it doesn’t really matter. We know they have leverage over you. That’s all.”

Sebastian put his cup on the side table and stood up. “They’re really so keen on keeping themselves hidden they’d stoop to coercion? Coercing you of all people?” He was angry and offended. “Perhaps coming out is the best thing after all, if it puts a stop to this bullshit.”

“They will come out. They intend to,” Nial said. “But on their own terms. Just not in the three-ring circus the Reverend Deacon has planned.”

Winter pulled on Sebastian’s hand. “Don’t cloud your thinking,” she warned. “Sit down, Bastian.”

He was staring at Nial. “What are they holding over you, Nathanial?”

Nial shook his head, but didn’t answer.

“He can’t tell you that,” Winter said, shaking Sebastian’s hand. “Sit down,” she added.

Sebastian sat again, reluctance showing in every stiff angle of his body.

Winter considered the matter. “The other faction,” she said slowly, thinking out loud. “They carved you up?”

Nial nodded. “They left me for dead in a Dumpster.” He sat forward again. “Them, I can tell you about.” He grimaced. “Not that I’ll get any pleasure out of it. It’s been a long while since anyone got the jump on me and they were human. Perhaps that was why I was relaxed. I wasn’t expecting trouble from that quarter.”

“Human?” Winter was startled. She considered the matter. “Did they think you were, too?” she asked. “They would never have simply left you for dead that way if they had known what you really are.”

Nial shook his head. “I’ve been thinking about that. I was quartering the Flatiron last night. Very late, just before dawn. I wanted to check on sight lines and a couple of other things. Four of them took me right off the sidewalk. At first I thought it was a simple mugging and I was going to let them drag me into a quiet alley and then deal with them. For a moment or two it did go down like a mugging. While the four of them held me, a fifth stripped me of my wallet and watch and anything of even marginal value.” He glanced at Winter. “I’m glad you have the ring,” he said briefly. “It seems they were just working me over for side benefits. The wallet told them they had the right man. Then they held me still while a sixth and seventh man stepped up. They knew we were going to hit the Flatiron in the next few days. They knew what we were going for. They even knew why, but they were human.” He took a breath. “And so I used only human strength and reactions while one beat me up with bronzed knuckle-dusters. Then I stood pinned between them while the other pulled out a butterfly knife and carved up my innards. Then they tossed me into the nearest Dumpster.” His mouth curled down in distaste. “It was not the most comfortable few hours I’ve ever spent. I had to steal the jacket from someone’s second balcony washing line and I jog-trotted until I could talk a cabbie into driving me here. I owe Frederick two hundred dollars, too. He paid the cab driver.” He put his hands over his face and then slid them up into his hair and scrubbed at it as if he were trying to erase the memory of the morning. “I think they knew exactly what I am,” he said finally. Flatly.

Sebastian held up his fingers as he ticked off items. “Their sheer numbers, which means they knew your strength. They checked your ID to make sure they had the right man. They know about vampires, about what is coming down the pipe.”

Winter held up another finger. “They didn’t leave any messages for anyone else, warning them to drop the Flatiron job,” Winter said. “They knew you would recover from wounds that would kill a human. The whole mugging thing was aimed at you personally, to make you back down.”

Nial’s expression was bleak. “If I’d known in advance they weren’t going to leave a warning, or contact you, I would have known I could reveal myself. I could have used my full strength against them and saved myself a bloody few hours and you two a heart attack each. We might have learned more about them.”

Winter shivered because she knew what “learning more” would have involved—torture and pain to extract information.

“They were human,” Sebastian said, “But their masters may not be. It’s still a common practice.”

“What is?”

“Vampires sometimes have a human…well, assistant is the nicest noun,” Sebastian told her. “Further back in time, the humans were treated little better than servants or slaves. Sex toys and cannon fodder, or sometimes as pet guards if they had an aptitude for it. These days, some vampires pay salaries and recruit humans for specific skills, but it comes down to the same thing: they’re using them for personal services and consider the humans that serve them as subsidiary creatures.”

Winter already knew that Nial and Sebastian had never used human servants. It would be abhorrent to both of them.

“Human factions would have every reason to stop us,” Winter pointed out. “That is, if they knew of what we planned. Other vampire factions would stay out of our way and possibly applaud us, wouldn’t they? We’re saving their asses, too.”

Nial sat forward. “What if they wanted the democrat to fall?”

“Politics?” Sebastian almost spat the word. “We’re juggling with the revelation of a species and they’re out there having a bun fight over petty national politics instead?”

“Hardly petty. Do you realize how many billions of dollars change hands when a president falls?” Nial replied, his tone mild.

“This reaches that high?” Winter asked, appalled. “The White House?”

Nial hesitated. “It could,” he said diffidently.

“Just how close is this Democrat to the President?” Sebastian asked.

Nial shook his head.

“Best friend?” Winter guessed.

“Golfing buddy,” Sebastian added.

“Hell, it could even be the Speaker,” Winter said. “He’s a pal of the President’s.”

“Yes,” Nial said and rubbed his temples.

Winter and Sebastian stared at him.

“Richard Lowenstein…is a vampire,” Sebastian breathed. He pushed to his feet in a jerky movement. “Christ, Nial, what have you got us into?”

“He didn’t have a choice, remember?” Winter said softly, watching Nial.

For far from relaxing now they had guessed the biggest part of it, he seemed even more on edge.

Slowly, trying not to draw Nial’s attention, Winter got to her feet as well. Sebastian was jittery enough to keep Nial occupied for the few seconds she needed to float over to Nial’s chair. She laid her hand on the back of Nial’s neck.

She only got a split second before Nial launched himself out of the chair and away from her reach. He spun to look at her. “Don’t,” he said simply.

“What did you feel?” Sebastian demanded.

“Fear,” she told him. “Strong fear. But he’s not letting it show.”

Sebastian stepped up behind Nial. “Why fear?” he asked.

Nial turned his head just enough to sight Sebastian over his shoulder. “Winter is wrong.”

“I think that’s the first time you’ve flat out lied since Ireland, Nial,” Sebastian said softly.

“Why wouldn’t you show us your fear?” Winter asked.

Nial turned so he was facing them both. He shook his head a little.

“What, more you can’t share? Or that you don’t care to?” Winter asked.

“Both,” he said flatly.

She felt her eyes widen in genuine surprise.

Nial shrugged. “I said there were questions that were too dangerous to answer.” He lifted his hands in a strangely helpless gesture. “There’s not much more I can tell you. Except that I think we should hit the Flatiron building tonight.” He glanced at his watch. “Now.”

“At four in the afternoon? Are you bonkers?” Sebastian demanded.

“If we start now, it’ll be just after close of business by the time we’re in place. About ten p.m. we can move in.” Nial took a breath. “We can’t wait any longer.”

“You mean you can’t,” Winter responded.

“Conditions have changed,” Sebastian said slowly, puzzling it out. “But if your employers gave you a generous deadline and haven’t suddenly squeezed you to hurry up then the only thing that has changed was the attack this morning, when they told you to lay off.”

Winter sucked in her breath. “No…” she breathed. “It wasn’t just ‘lay off’ at all, was it?” She moved the chair aside. “It was ‘lay off or else,’ wasn’t it?” She stood in front of Nial, her shoulder almost touching Sebastian’s arm. “They threatened you, too. Not just the bodily harm…because they’ve already done that. Something else. Something that has you scared enough to want to pull the job as soon as possible before they recover, so we can catch them off guard.”

Nial drew in a breath. “Yes,” he breathed out.

“Fuck.” Sebastian sighed.

Winter looked at him. “You still want me to trust him, Bastian?”

Nial made a sound of surprise and she looked at him. He was staring at Sebastian.

Sebastian pushed his hand through his hair, looking both guilty and embarrassed. He shrugged. “I know how this looks, Tera, but I know Nial. If he’s scared, then this is huge. I trust him. I trust his judgment. If he says jump now and no, he can’t tell us why, then I say we jump. Fast.”

Winter nodded. “Alright then,” she said softly. “Let’s jump.”

Nial let out a shaky breath of relief, which scared her more than anything he had said or not said since she had sat on the sofa.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“You look good as a blonde, by the way,” Sebastian said, pushing her third coffee cup toward her, “and I love the suit.” He sat down at the small, square plastic table, just one of dozens of tables in the food court. “Nial pick it out?”

She nodded. “The skirt is too tight to move freely in, though,” she said.

“So hike it up around your hips when you need to move. The bad guys will be so dazzled at the sight of lace stocking tops and a garter belt you’ll probably get a three second advantage.”

Sebastian looked very good, too, even though he looked nothing like himself. He wore a high quality wig, like her, only his made him dark-haired, well-groomed and lawyer-like. His brows had been darkened to match. The suit he wore was Brooks Brothers conservative.

Winter’s silky white blouse was thin to the point of transparency and as soft as a kiss against her skin. The suit jacket and skirt were black pinstripe, but that was the last conservative thing about them. Their cut and style screamed chic and sexy and the heels of her court shoes were higher than any she had seen in the building so far.

Her blonde hair curled at the edge of her collar and framed her face in a sleek bob that still managed to be feminine and business-like at the same time.

She had spent ninety minutes pouring over the laptop in front of her, managing to look frantically busy while the food court emptied out and the clock moved around to seven p.m. and Sebastian plied her with coffee from the Starbucks vendor in the corner.

Most of the food vendors had shut up shop a long time ago. Now there were only one or two plying their trade, including the Starbucks store.

Winter glanced at the time on her laptop. “Time to go,” she said and logged off.

“Time to see if those passes work,” Sebastian said, standing up.

“Of course they work. They’re the real thing.” She folded up the laptop and slid it into her briefcase. “I went to a lot of trouble stealing them.”

“I know, I watched you.” He grinned. “It took you a whole twenty seconds per mark.”

The walk from the food market to the Flatiron building took mere minutes, for the market was the one where many of the workers from the Flatiron went for their meal breaks, including Patty Williams and Greg Everson, two of the junior lawyers working for Rolland, Gold, Pritchard and Grant. Patty Williams happened to be a svelte blonde and Greg Everson a tall dark-haired green-eyed barrister who spent more time around Patty Williams than was natural.

Tonight, the real Patty and Greg were enjoying front row seats at the late Knicks game.  Greg had found the tickets on his desk, supposedly from a grateful client. But that was after Winter had lifted their building and office security passes from them when they had been sitting eating a quick dinner in the food hall, an hour ago.

Then Winter had disappeared into the Ladies washroom and re-emerged thirty minutes later a blonde, close replica of Patty Williams and settled at the table opposite Sebastian, now a dark-haired substitute for Greg Everson, and handed him Everson’s passes.

They walked into the foyer of the building, Winter carrying her coffee cup and briefcase in plain view, both of them laughing and talking, their gazes on each other’s faces. They wandered over to the security scanner and Winter dropped her briefcase onto the sliding belt, still chatting about the case she was working on and what a bitch the discovery phase was going to be.

Both of them unclipped their passes and flashed them at the bored guard, who nodded as they stepped through the scanner one at a time.

Winter picked up her briefcase from the conveyor belt and they headed for the elevator, still chatting.

It was quiet in the building and no one stood waiting for an elevator, so when Sebastian pressed the button to call for a car, the doors immediately opened.

They stepped inside and the doors shut.  Winter took a breath, falling silent. Sebastian pulled out his security pass and slid it into the slot above the floor keys and pressed the button for the second-last floor.

It obligingly lit up and the elevator moved into gear.

Conscious of the security camera in the corner of the car, Winter didn’t look at Sebastian. They were in their roles now. Instead, she sipped her coffee.

The doors opened on their floor and they stepped out, almost running into a cleaning cart piled high with mops, brooms and cleaning supplies. Winter yipped in surprise, jostling her coffee cup.

The cleaner was vacuuming the carpet, his back to them, his hips moving in a steady hip-hop beat in time to silent music.

Winter’s little sound of shock brought a security guard out from the little office next to the elevator.

Sebastian tapped the cleaner on the shoulder. “Hello?”

The cleaner straightened up and pulled an ear bud from his ear. He had long, greasy hair that hung in clumps, halfway down his back, and hanging in his eyes despite a dirty red bandana tied around his forehead to hold it back. Three days’ worth of beard shadowed his cheeks and chin. He wore a black tank top underneath a pair of wildly over-sized and filthy coveralls and steel-toed work boots that had seen more than their fair share of use and abuse. The steel was gleaming in one or two places on the toes, where the leather had worn away or peeled back and the heels were run down.

He looked at Sebastian with bored, black eyes. “Man?”

“Think you can move the cart a little further over? We nearly ran into it when we stepped off the elevator.”

“Sure, man. Whatever.” He shrugged and dropped the vacuum hose, which was still running, and pushed the cart a few inches further down the corridor and a smidgen closer to the wall.

Then he picked up the vacuum again without waiting to see if Sebastian approved, turned his back and started vacuuming.

Sebastian, staying in character for the security guard’s sake, turned to Winter. “He has to be new. I’m going to talk to Randy in the morning. The insolence!”

“The cart is just plain dangerous, parked there,” she added, playing along. She leaned closer. “And did you get a whiff of him? He smells like he hasn’t showered in a month!”

Sebastian nodded and looked at his watch. “Anyway, if I’m going to get home at all tonight, I gotta go do some of that work thing.”

“Me, too,” she agreed. “Thanks for the coffee!”

They each turned and headed in opposite directions down the corridor, Winter sidling past the oblivious cleaner. As she turned the corner to head for Patty William’s office, she saw that the guard had returned to his rabbit-hole, satisfied that they were simply returning to their offices to work back for the night.

There were still a few offices showing lights through the opaque door glass as she passed them. Murmured telephone conversations. Rolland, Gold was still a busy place even at seven-thirty.

Winter used the security pass to open Patty’s office door and let herself in. She didn’t put on a light and she locked the door behind her. Instead, she sat down in Patty’s chair to wait—the hardest part of any job—and watch the minute hand of her watch sweep around the dial two and a half times.

The offices of Rolland, Gold emptied out over those one hundred and fifty minutes, which was exactly what they had been planning on. Winter listened to the corridors quieten and the lights dim through the glass panes at the top of Patty’s office walls as office lights were turned off and the corridor lights were turned down for the night.

At nine forty-five Winter stepped out of the office, moving casually like she had every right to be there. She still carried the briefcase, although she had left the coffee cup in Patty’s wastebasket.

She moved in the opposite direction to the one she had taken to arrive. The offices were laid in a great triangle around the outside of the floor, with amenities in the middle, including the elevator shafts.  The senior partners were closer to the apex of the triangle. Duke Rolland himself had the famous pointed office.

By heading in the opposite direction, Winter would eventually end up back at the elevators but she would walk past the senior partner offices—including Greg Everson’s—and the vault room to do so.

There was a guard floating along the corridor when Winter turned the final corner. She flattened out her spike of adrenaline and took a calming breath. She kept her stride even and painted a small smile on her face. “Evening,” she said as she drew closer.

The guard frowned a little. “Ms. Williams. I thought you were catching the Knicks tonight?”

“I was going to. Those tickets of Greg’s were hard to pass up. Front row! But this case of mine is driving me into the ground.”

Five feet away. She stuck out her hand, as if she wanted to shake his. “You have a great evening now,” she told him.

The response was automatic. He thrust his hand into hers, even as he was puzzling through the inconsistencies in her appearance, her words.

But it was too late. Winter rammed endorphins through his system and he smiled at her. “I’ll have a great evening, for sure!” he told her, beaming.

She leaned forward, flashing cleavage. “Hey, Teddy, do you want to step inside here, just for a minute?” She reached out with her other hand, the one holding the briefcase, and pressed down on the lever door handle to open the door on the small anteroom to the vault. “It’ll be so worth it,” she crooned.

“Sure,” Teddy said, drooling.

She tugged him into the room and he stumbled after her, as she adjusted his arousal levels, building his lust so that all he could think about was sex.

As the door closed behind them, Teddy grabbed her and rammed her face-first up against the wall, making her drop the briefcase and winding her. “Gotta have you,” he muttered. He squeezed her ass and tried to reach her breasts except that she was mashed up against the wall so hard he couldn’t get to them.

So he fumbled at the hem of her skirt, yanking it upwards.

He was no longer directly touching her. Winter couldn’t adjust his biology to bring down his runaway sexual urge. She tried to push away from the wall to get some leverage, but he shoved her back, too quickly for her to reach inside him.

She glanced to her right. The vault door was within reach. She could lay her hand on the cold metal, but it wasn’t going to do her any good right now.

Teddy’s hand grabbed the back of her thigh under her skirt and pinched. Winter yelped and shoved back. It forced Teddy backwards a staggering step or two, enough for her to turn and face him.

He was smiling. “Yeah, fight me,” he begged. “I like it that way.” Clearly, the endorphins were wearing off. He was coming down from his natural high, but the challenge of taking her was still planted in his mind.

Winter had to get him close enough to touch him again.

The door to the tiny room opened and Martie Shakeel stepped in. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded.

Winter hid her shock. Where was Sebastian? It had been his role to monitor Shakeel and warn her if the man headed in her direction. Something had gone wrong.

Teddy glanced at Shakeel. “Fuck off,” he said curtly. “I’ve got this one.” He brought his gaze back to Winter and licked his lips.

Shakeel’s eyes widened. “You’re crazy, Teddy. You fuck her on the premises, Williams will sue your ass to Purgatory and back.”

“At least,” Winter said coolly, as facts connected together. Teddy and Shakeel were date rape buddies.

Teddy unfastened his trousers, the heavy belt and accessories and keys hanging off it jingling. “Don’t care,” he growled, watching her. “Why don’t you keep her quiet for me? She fights too hard and I don’t have stuff on me.”

“I don’t have time to stand around watching you slide your prick into some blonde bitch,” Shakeel snapped. “Tie her down for all I care.” He turned back to the door, which opened again, making him step back.

The cleaner with the long hair stood framed in the doorway, a mop in his hands. He looked around, a frown between his brows, clearly trying to puzzle out what was going on.

“Help me!” Winter said instantly and tried to move between Shakeel and Teddy toward the door.

Shakeel shoved her back. “Turn around and leave, if you know what’s good for you,” he told the cleaner. “Now.”

The cleaner hesitated, looking from Winter with her disheveled clothing, to Teddy with his open trousers, to Shakeel.

“You’ve got ten seconds,” Shakeel warned.

The cleaner blinked at him. “You’ve got five.” He broke the handle of the mop over his knee, used the broken off handle like a blackjack on the back of Teddy’s skull, and dropped him to the floor, unconscious.

Even as the cleaner was moving, Winter reached for Shakeel’s hand and shot his system full of every relaxing and happy juice his body could produce, countering the adrenaline and the arousal she found there. Shakeel relaxed, his eyes taking on a sleepy look.

Nial dropped the mop handle, pushed Teddy’s legs back into the room and shut the door. It was a squeeze, for the room simply wasn’t that big.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Winter told him.

Nial pulled off the bandana and the wig. “Yes, I did,” he said flatly.

“Now he’ll have a headache we can’t explain away.”

“Oh well.” He shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Shakeel. “Bet he has some of his funny juice on him.”

“What happened to Sebastian?” Winter patted Shakeel’s jacket pockets, looking for an auto-injector pen.

“I’m not sure yet. I heard your yelp and came running when Sebastian didn’t.” Nial stripped the oversized coveralls off. Underneath, he wore black trousers and the tank top. He dumped the heavy boots, unrolled rubber slips-on and put them on.

Shakeel watched and listened with a placid, dreamy expression on his face.

Winter found a cigar box in his inner pocket and pulled it out. “Look at this,” she said, opening it. There were two injector pens inside. “One’s empty.”

“Sebastian.” Nial grimaced. He looked at Shakeel. “Did you use the pen on Greg Everson?”

“The guy who was pretending to be Greg? Sure,” Shakeel said. “Fucker was up to no good.” He said it with a dreamy lilt in his voice.

Nial sighed. “Where did you leave him?”

“In the office where I found him. Security can deal with him.” He sounded completely indifferent and vaguely tired.

Winter adjusted his hormone levels, making him more alert. It wouldn’t do for him to drop off to sleep right now. He straightened up.

Nial was frowning. “Will he take my suggestions, or only yours?” he asked her.

“Yours, but only for a few minutes until his levels adjust back to normal,” she said. “You want me to go find Sebastian and rouse him?”

He nodded. “I’ll get Shakeel here to open the vault for us. I’ll grab the memory stick, meet you at Greg’s office.”

“Oooh, but the memory stick isn’t in the vault,” Shakeel said, sounding jovial.

They both looked at him, startled.

Shakeel was grinning, like he had a delicious secret to share.

Winter pushed her face into a smile. “Really?” she said. “Do tell!” She nudged his endorphins up a little more. The man was getting high on his own hormones. Clearly, he wasn’t used to being simply happy. It said a lot for his life.

He put a finger to his lips and giggled. “I’ve seen it. Ol’ Ducky Rolland himself has it. In his desk, can you believe it? Biggest piece of evidence of the twenty-first century. Crafty bastard.”

Nial was smiling. “I bet it’s in amongst a bunch of other memory sticks, right? Protective coloring. Martie, my man, you’re smart to have figured it out.” He let admiration color his tone.

Shakeel swelled with pride. “I know!” he said simply. “I saw it there. Recognized it straight away.”

“What were you doing rooting around in the senior partner’s desk drawer, Martie?” Winter teased.

“I take women there,” Shakeel said, smiling with the same distant smile. “Fuck ‘em on his desk. They get a kick out of the corner office.”

“And you didn’t take the memory stick, Martie?” Nial asked.

“Couldn’t figure out a way to use it yet,” Shakeel said wistfully. “But I’m working on it. Vampires…who knew? And the Speaker! It’ll blow the roof off the White House.”

“Who, indeed,” Nial murmured. He looked at Winter.

She desperately wanted to let go of Shakeel’s hand and wipe hers on her skirt. But the longer she controlled his biology, the longer it gave Nial when they parted.

Nial grabbed Shakeel’s arm. “How about you show me where the memory stick is, Martie? Show me how clever you were finding it the first time?”

“Sure…” Shakeel said.

Winter handed Nial the injector pen, then bent to touch Teddy’s ankle and wipe his memories as Nial led Shakeel from the room.

She picked up her briefcase and shut the door on the sleeping Teddy, knowing he would wake puzzled and with a sore head, wondering why his trousers were undone. It would be enough to keep him quiet about the strange circumstances, especially as he was a mate of Shakeel’s.

She hurried to Greg Everson’s office and forced her way past the locked door.

Sebastian was sprawled in the executive chair, his arms hanging over the sides. The black wig lay on the floor beside him. His eyes were closed, but she knew he could hear her. He was still conscious.

“It’s me,” she murmured, touching his cheek. “I’m fine. Nial came instead.”

His breath escaped in a rush.

“Now to get this crap out of your system,” she told him, ripping his shirt open and placing her hand over his heart and the other against his neck. “I’m going to do this fast, so it might be a bit uncomfortable.”

She reached inside and found the same ugly unnatural amino acids and long protein chains as before. She was familiar with them and went to work tearing them apart with a vengeance.

Sebastian groaned.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “On the positive side, you’re not going to be thirsty for a day or so.”

“Nial…?” Sebastian muttered thickly.

“He took Shakeel to get the memory stick. It wasn’t where we thought it was.”

The chain reaction was underway now, but still she shepherded it, speeding it on its way by spiking Sebastian’s metabolism. Sebastian groaned again. She winced, wanting to apologize for a second time. But there was no help for it. “I have to get you on your feet fast,” she explained.

His hand came up and gripped her shoulder. “Deserve it,” he said.

“Probably,” she agreed.

He tried to laugh but it emerged as a weak cough. His eyes blinked open. “Feels like Singapore. Sort of.”

“You’re not dying.”

“You’re saving my ass again.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m lying here wondering how I can get to keep you right here next to me. Forever, Winter.”

Her heart hurt, so hard did it squeeze. She looked at him. “What exactly are you proposing, Bastian? And here? Now? In the middle of a job?”

“Where else?” he asked. “I’ve been lying here for ten minutes begging whatever entity would listen for another chance to touch you, kiss you, speak to you. I’m not throwing it away now I’ve got it.” His hand cupped her face and his gaze was steady, determined. “I don’t know how we work it, Winter, because Nial is part of whatever we do. You know that, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“I love you.” His thumb stroked her cheekbone. “I think I crossed two centuries just to find you, Winter Manon Kennedy. I want you in my life irrevocably. The human part of me wants the human symbol. I want to marry you.”

Winter pressed her hand against the back of Sebastian’s. “If you can figure out a way to do it, Sebastian, I’ll marry you.” She kissed him, then tugged on his jacket. “But you have to get on your feet now.”

He hauled himself to his feet and stood swaying. “Damn, you’re good,” he murmured.

“I was inspired.” She pulled him to the door, opened it and looked out. The corridor was shadowed and quiet. They eased out and she locked the door once more. She turned left and headed toward the apex of the building and the senior partner’s office where Nial and Shakeel would be.

They met the pair heading back down the corridor, Shakeel lumbering happily along.

Nial pointed past them silently and Winter turned and headed back again. Time to leave.

She stopped at the vault anteroom door and unlocked it, intending to let Nial shepherd Shakeel inside, then dose him with his own injector pen, before stealing his memories, so he could wake as clueless as Teddy.

As soon as the door opened, though, Teddy charged through, his gun out, the broken off mop in his other hand. His trousers were fastened once more.

His eyes were wild. “Nobody moves!” he yelled.

“Sure, Teddy,” Shakeel agreed happily.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like it!” Teddy declared, moving the gun to point at all of them one after another.

“Teddy, what are you yelling about?” came a call from further down the corridor.

“The other guard,” Sebastian murmured.

“Harvey!” Teddy called.

Nial swung his arm and buried the injector pen into the side of Shakeel’s thigh. Shakeel gasped, then his eyes rolled in his head and he crumpled to the ground. Teddy tried to line the gun up on Shakeel, until he realized the man was no threat.

Nial pushed Winter down the corridor. “Run!”

The second security guard, Harvey, was pounding down the corridor now, drawing out his gun, as Teddy brought his own around to bear upon Nial.

Nial turned to Teddy. “Sebastian, take her and get out!”

Sebastian didn’t hesitate. He picked up Winter’s hand and began to run down the corridor. Winter dragged at his hand, reluctance dogging her every step.

“Sebastian!” Nial called.

She turned.

Nial threw the memory stick to Sebastian in a powerful overarm toss that sent the little piece of metal hurtling like a bullet across twenty yards straight into Sebastian’s chest. He clapped his hand over it, gripped it and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

Then he dragged Winter over to the fire exit.

“No!” she cried as Teddy and Harvey landed on top of Nial, their night sticks out and raised.

“Move it!” Sebastian yelled.

The wall where the vault room was located blew up and out, spewing fire, wall, heat and g-force into the corridor where Nial and the guards struggled and the forgotten Shakeel lay. They were instantly consumed by the fireball and ash cloud, as the floor of the corridor heaved and buckled.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Winter screamed as she watched the fireball bellow and race toward them down the confining corridor.

Sebastian yanked her off her feet and shook her. His green eyes were glassy with shock, but his voice was a growl. “We go now! There’s no point in all of us dying! Move your ass! Now!” She could barely hear him above the noise of the fire, the fire alarms that were sounding and her throbbing ears. Her hearing was muffled from the explosion.

Sebastian pushed and half carried her into the stairwell. She tripped over her heels and kicked them off. He was dragging her toward the iron stairs.

“I’m coming,” she told him. “I’m coming.”

They moved halfway down the flight, then vaulted over the rails, down onto flight of stairs beneath, watch their landing. Then they stepped down another three steps and vaulted over that railing.

By using their arm as a vaulting pole, it gave them time to spot their landing and get their feet down.

It was a technique that allowed them to drop the twenty or so floors to the basement in about forty-five seconds.

Sebastian disabled the alarm at the bottom, pulled her wig off and stuffed it in his pocket, picked up her hand again and pushed out into the night. “Wish you’d kept your shoes,” he murmured.

She was shivering.

Alarms were sounding all around them and there was the distant wail of fire, police and ambulance sirens coming closer.

Sebastian pulled Winter in against his body and wrapped his arm around her. They began to walk along the sidewalk. It was 22nd Street and temporarily deserted.

“Sebastian, I need to stop somewhere,” she breathed. “Soon.”

“I know,” he murmured. “Just a few more minutes and I’ll hail a cab.”

They kept walking toward Broadway. The pavement was cool on her feet which made her shiver more. A police car went screaming by, sirens blaring and lights flashing.

There was a sound of a stressed heavy motor behind them. A slam of a door. Metal runners as a sliding door was thrown to one side.

Then feet running on the pavement.

Alarm touched her and Winter tried to turn in Sebastian’s arm just as something black was thrown over her face and hands grabbed her arms and wrists and yanked them back.

She heard Sebastian swear and struggle.

She was being forced backwards. Back toward the van.

Her shins thudded painfully against the edges of the van, then she was hauled inside. Her hands were fastened with rope, behind her back. She was shoved onto the cold metal floor, on her side. She couldn’t tell if Sebastian was near or not.

The door was slid shut, two heavy bodies got into the van, two doors were shut, and the van put into gear and driven away. Apart from turning right at Broadway and heading downtown, Winter quickly lost track of where the van headed.

But after fifteen minutes it stopped and the engine was turned off.

Two bodies got out. The sliding door opened and three more got out. Then the back doors of the van were opened and she was lifted out and put on her feet. Her hood was removed.

The van had been backed into a badly-lit shed that seemed to be made of corrugated iron cladding and timber frames and not much else. There was a dirt floor and weeds showing at the base of the walls. A fire had been started on the floor of the shed and fold up chairs, some of them with holes in the webbing, most of them dirty and decayed, sat around the fire.

The men from the van sat down in the chairs, all except two. One grabbed the back of Winter’s head and dragged her over to the fire.

Sebastian was being manhandled by the other and forced to squat in front of the fire, too. He hunkered down awkwardly, unable to balance himself with his hands behind his back. He looked at her. “I’m fine,” he said.

“Me, too.”

“Shut up,” one of the men growled.

They shut up.

So did the men, who started to pass a bottle of Tequila around, sipping silently.

Winter considered the odds. Five against the two of them. It wasn’t certain enough odds to try something, especially with their hands tied and the men armed. She had already spotted two handguns and a compact submachine gun. Even if it had been just the two handguns, she might have tried, but the submachine gun put the odds out of the question. They’d be cut down before they got close enough to try anything.

So. She glanced at Sebastian and shook her head.

He breathed out and relaxed.

After twenty minutes of silent drinking, while Winter’s calves went to sleep, there was a sound of another car pulling up nearby.

She tried to see over her shoulder, to spot the newcomers as they entered, but she was at the wrong angle.

“Butterfly knife and company,” Sebastian murmured. “Betcha.”

She nodded.

“How do we play it?” he asked.

“I just want to go home,” she told him. Home, where she could think about Nial and shore up her shattered defenses.

“Right.”

The five men were stirring, watching past the van.

The two newcomers sidled past the van like they didn’t want to touch it. They were human and much neater than the five slouched around the fire. They wore business attire.  One had close-cropped hair that screamed military and faded blue eyes.

Both displayed the still, contained movements that spoke of men used to defending themselves physically. They placed themselves between Sebastian and Winter and the firelight, which should have given them the advantage of hiding their features and highlighting Sebastian’s and Winter’s, except they didn’t know that both Sebastian and Winter had enhanced night vision.

“They don’t look like much,” Blue Eyes said.

The other man, who had salt and pepper hair and was slightly shorter and stouter, shrugged. “For all his reputation, Nathanial didn’t look like much, either.”

“Nathanial’s dead,” one of the roughnecks said, from around the fire.

Winter clamped down on the reaction that leapt inside her and kept her expression neutral.

Blue Eyes glanced over his shoulder. “He’s a vampire. Don’t count him dead until you see his body turn to ashes.”

“He got blown up in an explosion in the Flatiron. Is that dead enough for you?”

Blue Eyes massaged his chin. “Is that so?” he said, studying Winter and Sebastian. “These two don’t seem to be too cut up about it and all the reports say they were living with him.”

The roughnecks stirred. “They barely said nothing or stirred since we brought ‘em here. Real creepy pair.”

Salt & Pepper laughed. “I heard that about these two. Read each other’s minds while they work. Best team in the business.”

Blue Eyes was studying them carefully. “Try the woman first,” he decided.

The five in the chairs behind them stirred and sat up, their interest piqued.

Salt & Pepper moved to stand in front of her. “Where’s the memory stick?”

“Nathanial had it when he died,” she told him.

His backhand caught her square and solidly on the cheekbone and sent her sprawling across the dirt. She picked herself up slowly, letting her calves uncramp and internally fixing the damage to her cheekbone. Bruising, mostly. The ache, she could do nothing about.

“Christ, he didn’t even flinch,” Salt & Pepper complained. He grabbed Sebastian’s hair and yanked his head to make him look at up. “Doesn’t it bother you seeing her slapped about?”

Sebastian managed to shrug despite his awkward stance. “It’s all the same to me. The bitch fucked up the job from the start.”

Blue eyes laughed. “Harmony among thieves. Don’t you love it?” He turned to look at the five men in the chairs around the fire. “They’re untouched? You didn’t search them?”

The one who had dragged Winter from the van spoke up. “You said not to touch ‘em. Not until after. Not after last time.” He seemed peeved.

“You’ll get your goodies,” Blue eyes assured him. “For now, I want you holding them down and searching them. Just searching.”

The five got out of their chairs. They split up, so that two each held down their arms and legs on the dirt. The fifth man, the spokesman, started searching while Salt & Pepper and Blue Eyes watched.

He found the memory stick in Sebastian’s jacket pocket and held it up with a grin.

“Christ, they didn’t even try to tuck it away anywhere,” Salt & Pepper said in disgust.

“Best place to hide things. Out in the open.” Blue Eyes clicked his fingers. “Get my laptop,” he told the head of the gophers.

The man sauntered over to a laptop case sitting against the wall of the shed and carried it back. He held it out silently, his face stoic.

The two minions that had been holding her down let her go, so Winter sat up again. Salt & Pepper walked over to her and viciously slapped her face again.

She fell back on one elbow, jarring it and her shoulder. Her head was ringing and her face throbbing. Distantly, she heard Salt & Pepper say, “That was for lying.”

After a few minutes, she let herself sit up again. She could taste blood in her mouth and realized she had bit her own tongue. It didn’t improve her mood.

Blue Eyes was sitting on one of the chairs now, the memory stick inserted in his laptop. He was frowning at the screen, sliding his finger across the mouse pad. “Fuck, it’s got a security password!”

Salt & Pepper took two giant steps sideways so that he was standing in front of Sebastian. Then he punched him in the face.

Sebastian rocked back on his heels and landed on his butt with a soft grunt. Winter saw his tongue push up under his lip to touch his teeth.

“What’s the password, asshole?” Salt & Pepper demanded.

Sebastian smiled, showing teeth colored with blood. “I just steal things. I’d be the last to know.”

Salt & Pepper dug in his pocket and pulled out something that glittered silvery and bright in the firelight. He flipped it open. The butterfly knife. The blade was a good five inches long. Long enough to reach any vital organ.

He strode back over to Winter and grabbed her by the hair. It hurt her already throbbing head.

The blade was cold against her chest. He had it resting in the space where her shirt lay open.

“I’m not going to ask again,” Salt & Pepper said.

The wall of the shed groaned.

Blue Eyes looked up from his laptop, frowning. Salt & Pepper cursed.

The side of the shed ripped away with a shriek of stressed metal, making the fire dance and light flutter. The men around the fire leapt to their feet, all except Blue Eyes, who put the laptop on the ground, pulled out the memory stick and pocketed it.

Sebastian leapt at Salt & Pepper, his hands free of the rope, one reaching for the knife at Winter’s neck, the other for Salt & Pepper’s throat, bloody murder gleaming in Sebastian’s eyes.

At the same time, Nial dived through the hole in the shed wall, tucked, rolled and came to his feet. He was dressed as she had seen him last—the black trousers and tank top that revealed his pale flesh. He was holding a flat, short sword in his right hand and a long knife in the other.

Winter recognized the sword with a jolt. It was a Roman short sword.

Nial’s eyes blazed as he took in the occupants of the shed in one all-encompassing sweep of his head. He growled, showing his canines.  Then he and Sebastian moved.

It wasn’t a fight. It was a slaughter.

Winter had no doubts about the outcome, so she removed herself from the wreckage, wriggling on her butt closer to the van and well out of the way.  As Sebastian and Nial dealt with the seven men in shed, she worked on ridding herself of the ropes about her wrists.

At one point, Blue Eyes tried to climb through the hole in the wall and escape, with blood pouring from his mouth. Nial casually plucked him away from his desperate grip on the iron siding as Blue Eyes blubbered and pleaded, tossed him back toward the fire and stalked over to where he lay with his bloody hand up, begging for mercy.

Winter looked away, trying to find disgust or outrage in her heart for what Sebastian and Nial were doing. She found none. All she could remember was the red scar on Nial’s body and the blood in Sebastian’s mouth. The chill of the knife blade against her throat.

After a while, the sounds of the fight ceased and she looked up. Salt & Pepper lay closest. He was quite dead.

Nial was standing at the far side of the shed, watching her, the bloody knife and sword lowered on either side of him. He was wary and she knew why. This was the first time she had seen him fighting and witnessed this side of his nature.

Sebastian was watching her, too. Waiting to see how she reacted.

Winter got to her feet and started to pick her way across the shed. Before she was half-way across, she was running, relief giving wings to her feet.

When she reached Nial, she barely slowed. Buried in the back of her mind was the knowledge that he could handle it. She slammed into him, threw her arms around him and held onto him with every bit of strength she had left.

She heard the whoosh of his breath expel from his lips as she hit, then the sword and knife drop to the ground. His arms came around her, his hand tangling in her hair.

“I thought you were dead,” she cried against his neck.

“Dulcis dilecte mi…” he told her. “I had to let them think that.”

“Who?” Sebastian asked.

Nial took a breath. “Everyone,” he declared. “Nathanial had to die tonight. This job—the video, the ramifications—they’re too hot a political potato. I’ve known all along I would never come through unscathed, if I survived at all.” He pushed Winter gently to one side. “We have work to do. Then full explanations, I promise.”

* * * * *

Twenty minutes later, from half a block along the dark, narrow alley that led to the shed, Winter stood in the protective and warm circle of Sebastian’s arms while Nial monitored twenty foot flames leaping from what was left of the shed.

The night air was thick with the smell of dirty water and fog. The river lay somewhere very close at hand. Winter could hear the sound of boats cutting through choppy waves and the lapping of water against wooden piers, riding on the foggy air. Overhead, the steel arches of the Brooklyn Bridge dominated the night sky.

Buried beneath the fallen timber framing and iron siding of the shed was the van with a ruptured gas tank and the bodies of the seven men. The police would hopefully reconstruct the scene as happenstance—the fire set the leaking fuel alight and it exploded. Only later, with autopsies, would the authorities figure that foul play was involved and that would give them the time they needed.

Nial turned and walked back to where Sebastian and Winter stood.

“The memory stick!” Winter gasped, horrified, as she remembered Blue Eye’s laptop on the floor of the shed.

Nial smiled. “You’ve had it all the time,” he told her and reached under her jacket. “Remember when I pushed you down the corridor?” He delved into the tiny change pocket at the waistband of her skirt and withdrew from it another memory stick and held it up. “One memory stick looks like another. The one they were busting a gut trying to break the password to access was full of gay porn. This one is the real one.”

Sebastian laughed. “And I was going to take a piece out of you for planting a bug on me. I think I’ll get pissed about that instead. I took a round-house punch in the mouth for pornography.”

“I saw it,” Nial said. “Sorry about that. But the bug wasn’t on you. Winter has it in her left pocket.”

Winter delved into her left jacket pocket and found the tiny patch adhered to the lining. “Damn,” she said. “I missed that completely.”

“Don’t feel too badly,” Nial said. “You weren’t expecting it from me and I took advantage of that.”

In the distance, fire department sirens sounded. Someone had seen the flames and called it in already.

Nial looked over his shoulder. “I’m dead. I need to go. So do you. You know what you need to do?” He started to move backwards.

Sebastian nodded.

“Take care of Tera,” Nial said.

Winter held out her hand. “Wait! Where are you going?”

Nial stroked her cheekbone with his thumb, then kissed her, briefly but passionately. “Sebastian will explain.” He kissed Sebastian, hard and quickly. “Go dtí go gcasfar le chéile sinn arís,” he told them both. Then he turned and moved through the darkness and was gone.

Winter let out a shaky breath. “That was Irish, wasn’t it?” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“He said ‘Until we meet again’.” Sebastian took her hand. “We have a lot of work and a lot of running to do, Winter. I’ll explain, but we need to get a few national borders behind us first.”

She nodded.

It wasn’t until they had reached cruising altitude on the Lufthansa flight to Berlin, five hours later, which Winter allowed herself the luxury of tears.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Somewhere in Europe. Six days later.

When the specific pattern of knocks sounded on the door, Winter relaxed and opened it. Sebastian gave her a smile, handed over a fat pile of newspapers, a mix of European and days-old North American tabloids, kissed her soundly on the lips and threw himself into one of the armchairs sitting under the big picture window that took in a spectacular view of snow-capped mountains.

Winter flipped through the newspapers. “Anything interesting?”

“We’re no longer the news of the hour. That’s interesting.” He leaned forward and held his fingers against the French press coffee pot, then poured himself a cup. “Coffee always tastes so much better in Europe. It has to be the water or something.”

She sat on the edge of the opposite chair, her knees together. “That just means the authorities have put us on the backburner. Nial’s faction could be turning over every anthill trying to unearth us and we wouldn’t know.”

Sebastian put the cup down. “Nial would have spent the last six days ensuring every last trail to us was as dead as possible. That’s the reason he separated from us. He’s been protecting us all along.”

“How could you possibly know that?” she asked.

Sebastian stood up abruptly, his good cheer fading, and looked out the window with his back to her. “I miss him, too, Winter.”

“I didn’t mean—”

He turned to look at her. “I know. You’re too full of misery to think beyond it.”

She bit her lip.

“Why didn’t you ever tell him how you feel?” Sebastian asked gently.

“I wasn’t sure,” she confessed. “Not at first.” She looked up at him. “It’s fine for you. You’ve loved him for centuries. You seem to know exactly what love is. I don’t. Even with you, it took me weeks to know, to be sure.”

Sebastian sat down again and took her hand. “Do you think that might be because you’re afraid of love? Afraid to be attached to someone like that? So you fight to avoid recognizing it.”

She gave him a small smile. “I managed okay with you, didn’t I? I even agreed to marry you.”

“As long as I can figure out how to legally marry you. You gave it a condition.” He smiled to take the sting out of his words. “You have difficulty loving unconditionally. That’s the part of Nial that scares you. That’s the part you couldn’t tell him, isn’t it? You couldn’t tell him that you love him.”

Winter could feel the ache of tears in her throat and eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. Her tears fell. “Why can I tell you how much I love you, but not Nial?”

Sebastian threaded her fingers through his. “It took you three years to tell me. You’ve just had a bit more practice with me.” He wiped her tears away.

“I saw the scar on his chest and I knew then. I knew I loved him as much as you, that I never wanted to have to choose between the two of you. I felt sick with it, Sebastian.” She looked at him miserably. “He loves you, but I’m just his lover, his dilecta. A passing human plaything. Here today, gone tomorrow. How soon before he gets bored with me and puts me aside so you two can move on?”

Sebastian jerked, like he’d been jolted with electricity. “Críost thuas,” he breathed. He pushed his hand through his hair, staring at her.

After a moment, he lifted her hand up and kissed the palm. Then he flipped her hand over and kissed the back of it. “How many times has Nial done that to you?” he asked, staring at her over the back of her hand.

“Dozens of times,” she said.

“Like it?”

“Yes,” she confessed. She could feel herself blushing.

Sebastian spread her hand on his thigh and stroked the back of it gently. “Nial doesn’t have a religion as you and I count them. He was raised a pagan and he’s pretty much thrown off any ideas of a higher power, but what you learn first you keep the longest.”

He touched the Claddagh ring on her finger with gentle reverence. “These rings were used by the poorest of the Irish folk, back in the eighteenth century, as a way of indicating their attachment to one another when there was no such thing as clergy or a church they could afford, or they believed in, come to that. Even as late as then, the Celtic gods still had a grip on the wilder pockets of Ireland.”

“What are you saying?”

“By simply putting the ring on the one you loved, the right way around, you were declaring yourself married.” His green eyes met hers. “The poor Irish followed the custom and Nial knew of it, because I told him when I gave him the ring. He liked the idea. It appealed to his childhood roots.”

Winter’s heart was racing. “Sebastian…”

He touched the ring. “When I gave him the ring I made him promise never to give it away, unless it was to another whose heart had stolen his the way he had taken mine.” He again lifted his gaze to meet hers.

Winter could barely breathe. “But…he had only…only known me…”

Sebastian nodded. “Nial has considered you his wife since he slipped the ring on your finger, somewhere over the Pacific, all those days ago. He knew what he was doing. It was no prop. He let you think that, to give you time to get to know him. To learn to not be afraid of him the way I had taught you to be.”

Winter pressed her free hand to her chest, trying to relieve the pressure there. “There was a word he used, when we…when we made love. He only said it once and then he dismissed it.”

“Was it coniunx, perhaps?” Sebastian asked softly.

She nodded.

Sebastian smiled. “It’s Latin. It means ‘my wife’.”

She closed her eyes. “Oh god, Bastian…and I was afraid of him.”

“I know.”

“This is what you were thinking about when you kept trying to tell me to trust him, wasn’t it?” She opened her eyes. “As soon as you noticed the ring on my finger, your hostility evaporated almost instantly. It never occurred to me to question why. But that was why, wasn’t it? You knew that Nial wasn’t playing around.”

Sebastian picked up her hand and cupped it in his. “That was one of the toughest moments of my life. The woman I loved, the man I loved, bonded while my back was turned and madly in love. I could already see you were falling head over heels for Nial and Nial’s ring on your finger was his open declaration of his feelings for you, although you were unaware of it and he made me swear not to tell you until he thought you were ready to know. But I think Nial was scared to reveal himself as much as you were. It’s been several centuries since he had to declare himself and risk his heart. He’s out of practice.” Sebastian lifted her hand and kissed the palm. “So I’m pulling the plug for both of you.”

She smiled a little. “He’d kill you if he were here and knew you were giving him away.”

“He is here,” Sebastian said.

Winter’s heart lurched.

“He’s down in the lobby,” Sebastian added. “Where do you think I got the American newspapers from?”

Winter stumbled to her feet. “Here?”

“He won’t come up. He’s afraid you’ll be indifferent,” Sebastian told her, “even after you almost knocked him over in the shed that night, although I keep trying to tell him he’s wrong.”

Winter rushed over to the mirror. “Jesus Christ, Sebastian! Look at me!”

“I do. Constantly. You look stunning,” he told her.

“Where are my clothes?” She looked around wildly.

“You’ve been wearing a robe or nothing for three days,” Sebastian told her. “Now you start worrying about clothes?”

“I’m going down there,” she told him.

“Go in the robe,” he told her. “Nial will enjoy that.”

“In a hotel lobby?” she gasped.

“In this country you could walk around naked and no one would raise much more than half an eyebrow. Besides, there’s a heated pool off the lobby. You could say you’re going swimming.”

She ran her fingers through her hair. “I’ll kill you for this,” she muttered.

“Nial will, too, so you’re a set,” Sebastian said complacently. He leaned over and pushed her toward the door. “You look edible and you’ll make his heart stop. Go. I left him by the east end of the lobby by the pool.”

She went back to his chair and kissed him. “I love you.”

Sebastian took a breath and let it out. “I won’t ever get tired of hearing that.” He pushed her toward the door. “Go.”

* * * * *

Nial was sitting in one of the antique wingback chairs in the corner of the old section of the lobby, where the original black and white tile floor still gleamed and brass and potted palms competed with flock wallpaper and overstuffed chairs.

He had been reading a book, but now it sat on the table beside him, forgotten, while he watched kids playing in the water of the indoor pool, visible through double glass doors just off to his left.

It had been Winter’s intention to go straight up to him, but she found her steps slowing until she was standing in the middle of the lobby, simply watching Nial, absorbing his appearance and readjusting to him with her new knowledge.

My wife.

He looked around, as if he knew he was being scrutinized. When he saw her, he straightened. A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. Then he stood and came toward her. He was wearing a suit and a light overcoat, for it was cold this high in the mountains. The garments were all the last word in sartorial elegance and looked very European.

Winter could feel her knees shaking. Adrenaline overload. She let it be. She wanted to feel everything this time. The whole thing.

Nial stopped very close to her, but not close enough to touch. “Sebastian has a big mouth.”

“I know why you won’t come up,” she told him.

He drew a sharp breath.

Winter lifted herself on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. Because of the space between them, she had to lean forward to do it and Nial automatically reached up to steady her, his hands on her waist.

“Ask me why I was afraid of you.”

“Was afraid?” He sounded merely curious, but his gaze was roaming her face as if he looked for the tiniest hint, the smallest chink of hope.

“I didn’t think a man who had lived as long as you could love someone like me.”

His fingers brushed across her waist in a tiny movement. Nial shook his head. “Live as long as I and you learn that love comes easier. Not harder. You learn to appreciate humanity in a way that you never can when you’ve only got ninety years to sample it.”

“But you’ve never loved a human and I was—I thought I was—human.”

“We were all human to begin and we’re all human at our core. I don’t take human lovers because for the last two hundred years or so, I’ve had Sebastian. When he was gone, I wasn’t in the mood for another. Not so soon, not while Sebastian was still roaming the earth.”

“But you took me.”

He sighed. “I had to.” His hands tightened around her waist.

“Nial, I was never afraid of you. I had to let you think that because if I corrected your impression it would lead to the truth.”

“So you were never totally honest with me,” he said.

“Not about this.” She laid her hand over his chest. “I was afraid of how much I loved you. How much I wanted you in my life and never wanted to let you go. I love you so deeply and I had no idea how you felt about me.”

He became still for the space of a heartbeat. Then he drew in a long deep breath that made his shoulders lift and his chest expand. He picked up her hand from over his heart and lifted it to his lips. “Coniunx,” he whispered.

“My husband,” Winter replied.

Nial groaned and wrapped his arms around her tightly. She could feel his heart racing.

But then his lips captured hers and she forgot about his heart and vitals, and everything but the joy of being in his arms once more. Her body caught fire as his mouth seared a path from her lips to her throat and descended to the nape of her neck, and his hand moved over her ass in restless, arousing circles. Through the thin silk of her robe, he might as well have been stroking her bare flesh.

“You’re naked beneath this,” Nial said, his lips brushing her throat.

“Of course,” she replied, blinking to adjust her vision against the suddenly blinding light in the lobby.

“We’d better go to your room or what I intend to do to you next will get us arrested, even here.”

Her pulse spiked hard. “This way,” she told him, moving reluctantly out of his arms. They climbed the grand old staircase to the first floor and moved along the corridor to their room.

Winter gave the knocking pattern and the door was opened almost immediately. Sebastian leaned against the edge of the door. “She got you up here,” he told Nial.

Nial stepped past Winter and pushed Sebastian further into the room. Winter followed, shutting the door behind her.

“I should take a piece of your hide, Bastian. You gave your word you would not betray me on this, yet you blurted it all to her.”

“I did,” Sebastian agreed. “Someone had to. You two were at an impasse. You’re both as stubborn as each other.”

Nial grabbed Sebastian’s face and kissed him. It started as an expression of frustration but swiftly turned erotic and rich with arousal.

Winter’s body was already heated and ready to burst. She could not stand idly by and simply watch such passion. So she moved up behind Nial and stripped him of his overcoat even as he kissed Sebastian. He cooperated enough to let the coat drop off his arms one by one, but he lifted his hands back to Sebastian’s shoulders afterwards.

Winter reached around Nial’s hips, past the opening of his jacket and found his belt buckle. Moving swiftly, she slid it undone and pushed the ends aside so she could tackle the fastenings of his trousers.

“Here,” Sebastian said softly.

Winter looked up.

Sebastian was gripping Nial’s shoulders and turned him to face her. “Do your worst.”

Nial groaned.

Sebastian wrapped his arm around Nial from behind, his hand splayed out flat over his abdomen. He reached over Nial’s shoulder and yanked his tie undone then began unfastening buttons. “You’re wearing way too much,” he said, as his hand slid down inside Nial’s trousers.

Nial’s groan was harder, guttural.

Winter yanked his trousers open and pulled the layers down his thighs, to reveal Sebastian’s hand curled around Nial’s rock hard shaft. She bit back her own desperate moan and quickly took Nial into her mouth, her tongue sliding over the flared edges of the head and touched the side of Sebastian’s hand.

Nial’s hips jerked under their combined assault and this time his groan had a desperate quality to it. His hand clenched in her hair. “Tera…” he breathed.

Sebastian grabbed both sides of Nial’s shirt and tore the rest of the buttons away, then pulled his shirt, jacket and tie from his shoulders in one movement, while Winter removed the rest of his clothes.

Then she took Nial’s hand and pulled him to the big bed sitting up on the low platform at the end of the room. She shed her robe as she walked and dropped it at the foot of the bed.

Nial picked her up and laid her on the bed. His eyes glittered as he pushed her thighs apart. “Nearly a week without the taste of you. I’m starved.” He plunged into her with a hard stroke that drove the breath from her, then held still.

Sebastian climbed onto the bed, naked and erect. He curled his hand over Nial’s shoulder. “That applies to us, too. We missed you.”

Nial kissed Winter’s neck. “Not too much, I hope? He kept you happy while I was gone?”

She smiled. Sebastian had kept her more than happy. He was a sensual, hedonistic and inventive lover. “Oh, yes,” she breathed and felt Nial’s cock shift inside her in response.

He lifted his head to gaze into her eyes. “I’ll want highlights later.” There was devilment in his eyes.

Sebastian ran his hands down Nial’s back. “Later,” he promised. “Maybe we’ll even demonstrate.”

Winter gasped at the idea, her body rousing even more. Her clit was throbbing. She lifted her gaze to the mirror on the ceiling and watched as Sebastian gripped Nial’s hips. Sebastian’s heavy cock was glistening with lubricant and he guided it slowly in between Nial’s taut ass cheeks until it was buried to the root.

Nial closed his eyes briefly, his breath shuddering.

“Fuck me,” Winter told him as her climax swirled closer.

He thrust into her, beginning slowly and she watched as Sebastian did the same in counter beat. But the slowness did not last. She clawed at Nial’s chest. “Faster,” she begged as her climax rippled and roiled through her, provoked by the images she could see and the delicious sensations. So close!

Nial’s body was a taut, hard bow above her, his muscles iron-hard as he strained. He clenched the bed cover into a tight bunch as he drove into her, while Sebastian worked with fevered need behind him.

Winter came first, arching off the bed. She screamed, but Nial stole the scream by kissing her and returning it with his own harsh groan as he shuddered through his own climax.

Sebastian was a heartbeat behind, his fingers digging into Nial’s shoulders as he came, his eyes hooded and his gaze locked on Winter as she held Nial in her arms.

* * * * *

Sebastian was drawing lazy circles around her breasts with his forefinger, while Nial, lying to her left, played with her hand, caressing the flesh and tickling the sensitive flesh between her fingers with his tongue.

“Do you remember what you told me about outsiders, Bastian?” she asked him.

Sebastian propped his head on his hand. “Once you have more than two outsiders together, they’re inside their own group. They’re not outside anymore.”

She nodded. “In one respect, we’re all outsiders. None of us is entirely human and none of us fit exactly amongst them. Especially now, after the Flatiron.”

Nial sat up and turned to face them both. “You’ve been reading my mind,” he said. He still had hold of her hand.

Winter shook her head. “I’ve been doing my own thinking.” She sat up, too.

Sebastian flipped himself around so that he was sprawled across the sheet on his other side and could see both of them. He looked at her expectantly.

Winter lifted up the hand that Nial held, with its significant ring. “The relationship you two had, for all those years. It was unusual amongst vampires?”

“Very,” Sebastian said simply.

Nial blew out his breath. “It was used against me,” he said flatly. He lifted Winter’s hand and kissed the back of it. “So were you, Tera.” He released her hand.

Sebastian sat up. “That’s what they used as leverage? Me?”

Nial looked at Sebastian and nodded.

Sebastian licked his lips. “And Winter…the other faction threatened Winter,” he said hoarsely.

“Both of you,” Nial said simply.

Winter drew her knees up against her chest, feeling cold. She stared at Nial as the whole pattern of his behaviour since she had met him reassembled and fell into place in her mind.

“You came looking for me not just to do the job, but to protect me,” Sebastian surmised.

Nial grimaced. “You wanted your freedom. I tried to give it to you, but they were going to pull you back into vampire politics with or without me. I thought I would be the softer alternative. So I came looking for you…and found Winter instead.” He glanced at her. “You were drawn into the mess as well, because I took one look at your green eyes, red hair and fiery emotions and I think I fell in love on the spot. Sebastian had told me so much about you over the years, I was half-way in love before I met you. But it was what he didn’t tell me that had the greatest impact and that,” Nial said, picking up her hand, “knocked my knees out from under me.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Told you so,” he said complacently.

Winter could feel her heart melting. “When the second faction carved you up, you went out of your way to make sure we didn’t know we were the ‘or else’.”

Nial shook his head. “I went out of my way to extricate us all from a mess that could have no happy ending. There was no point in worrying either of you with a scenario I had no intention of ever letting come to pass.”

Winter understood better, now, some of the ferociousness she had seen in Nial’s face when he had dealt with the faction in the shed.

Sebastian stirred. “And now you have managed it,” he said. “You’ve pulled us all out of the soup. What are you going to do with us?” Despite the dryness of his tone, he was smiling.

Nial’s mouth lifted in a smile, too. “Why don’t you ask Tera that? She’s already figured it out.”

“I have?” Winter didn’t bother hiding her surprise.

“You spoke about not being outside. About groups,” Nial said. “Extrapolate from there.”

Winter frowned, thinking it through. Then she suddenly understood. She began to smile. “Nial, you’re really going to be that ambitious?”

“What ambitious?” Sebastian complained. “Will you two stop talking in hieroglyphics?”

“It’s not ambition that drives me,” Nial told her. “Everything I do from now on has a simple purpose.” He kissed her hand, then leaned forward and kissed Sebastian. “To preserve us.”

Sebastian shook his head. “Fine, great, wonderful. But you’re still skipping swathes of text here.”

Nial lifted his brow and looked at her. “Want to spare Sebastian a coronary? Tell him the very first step.”

“Thank you,” Sebastian said.

Winter picked up his hand. “First step, Sebastian? You have to marry me.”

“Well, finally,” he complained. “A simple sentence I can understand. Consider it done.” Then he frowned. “That’s just the first step?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Wawel Castle, Krakow, Poland. Ten days later.

The civil wedding ceremony was small, attended by a handful of guests and held in a grand, tapestry-lined state room.

Winter stood with Nial at her back, his arm around her and her left hand held in his, while Sebastian held her right and slipped his wedding ring onto that hand, as was the custom in Poland. The celebrant, who had been paid a great deal of money, made no protest over the odd arrangement of the wedding party.

Neither did the assembled guests, who watched the short ceremony with eagle eyes and sharp minds.

A small wedding buffet was served in the same room, but most of the guests were unable to partake although everyone took a glass of champagne, for show. Sebastian served Winter a piece of the fruitcake and a glass of champagne, along with a kiss. He did the same with Nial.

After the celebrant had congratulated them and hurried off for his next appointment, one of the guests, a man in his thirties with red hair, came up and congratulated them in a quiet voice that nevertheless put Winter on alert.

Nial smiled pleasantly at the man. “I appreciate that you were able to make it from the States, Garrett.”

“I was in London on business,” Garrett said. “So it wasn’t the inconvenience it seems. But in truth, I would have tried to make the date even if I hadn’t been so close.”

Nial raised a brow. “Your curiosity bump was itching?”

“Something like that,” Garrett confessed easily. “Of course, most of us on the eastern seaboard had heard you were dead, so you can imagine my surprise when I got your communication.”

“I don’t die that easily,” Nial said blandly.

“No, I don’t imagine you do after all this time,” Garrett agreed, with a small smile. He looked around the room. “So many of us in one place. This is…almost uncomfortable.”

“I’d get used to it, if I were you,” Sebastian said.

Garrett lifted one brow, just as Nial had done. “Then this ceremony was not just personal. I thought as much.” His eyes narrowed. “Speak plainly, Nathanial. I will listen.”

“As will I,” said one of the other guests, who had drifted up behind Garrett—a plain man with greying hair and brown eyes.

“Bartholomew,” Nial acknowledged.

The remaining three guests ranged themselves behind Bartholomew and Garrett, silently listening.

Winter stepped in front of Nial, shielding him. Sebastian stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him. They had deliberately chosen those positions beforehand, for the symbolism they would impart.

“Organization was once an anathema to us,” Nial said. “Meeting in numbers greater than two was forbidden because of the security risks. Keeping ourselves hidden from humans has driven everything we do for centuries.” He shook his head. “That is about to change.”

Garrett’s smile faded. “You jest,” he breathed.

“An expensive jest, to bring you all this way.” Nial shook his head. “Ask the good senator behind you if I am joking. Senator Billson?”

Garrett spun around. So did the others, to face the oldest and portliest of the group facing them.

The senator cleared his throat. “He is not joking. There was a congressional hearing set to reveal us, most especially the Speaker, but the evidence was destroyed before the subpoenas were sent out a couple of weeks ago, so the hearing was abandoned.”

Garrett turned back to Nial. “You had something to do with that?”

“Against my will, yes,” Nial said. “In part, that is how I ‘died’.” He held up his hand. “But you have just made my point for me, Garrett. There was a group—a whole group—who worked together to have that hearing dismantled.” He spread his hands. “We are no longer a species of individuals.”

Garrett considered that. “You never have been, Nathanial.”

“No,” Nial agreed. “I intend to embrace it, as this ceremony today should have underlined for you all. The fact of our existence will emerge amongst humans sooner or later. It is inevitable. Too many humans who bear us ill-will already know of us and are working against us. We need to organize. We need to identify each other, learn more about how many of us there is. We need to talk amongst ourselves and we need to meet more often face to face.”

“It sounds like we’ve already started doing that,” the senator said. “What’s wrong with this group who got the hearing thrown out?”

“They have their own interests at heart,” Nial replied. “They care nothing for humans. They don’t care for anyone outside their group, either. I don’t believe they intend to reveal themselves at all, even though they assured me they would eventually do so, when the time was right.”

“And you will, Nathanial? You’re going to drop the bomb on the world?” Garrett asked.

Nial looked them in the eye, one by one. “Yes.”

The five vampires ranged before them all gasped.

“For the love of…” Garrett began. He spread his hands. “Why?” he demanded.

Nial shrugged, as if it were self-evident. “So we—all of us, Garrett—can belong. So we can stop being outsiders and loners. So we can start living again, openly and honestly, as ourselves.”

Garrett stared at him.

“Don’t you want that, deep down in your gut, Garrett?” Sebastian asked.

“Hell, yes,” Bartholomew growled.

Garrett grinned and thrust out his hand.

Nial gripped it. “Welcome back to real life,” he said.

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About the Author

Tracy Cooper-Posey is an Amazon #1 Best Selling Author.  She writes erotic vampire romances, hot romantic suspense, paranormal and urban fantasy romances.  She has published over 80 novels since 1999, been nominated for five CAPAs including Favourite Author, and won the Emma Darcy Award.

She turned to indie publishing in 2011. Her indie titles have been nominated four times for Book Of The Year and Byzantine Heartbreak was a 2012 winner.  She has been a national magazine editor and for a decade she taught romance writing at MacEwan University.

She is addicted to Irish Breakfast tea and chocolate, sometimes taken together. In her spare time she enjoys history, Sherlock Holmes, science fiction and ignoring her treadmill. An Australian, she lives in Edmonton, Canada with her husband, a former professional wrestler, where she moved in 1996 after meeting him on-line.

Her website can be found at http://TracyCooperPosey.com.  Tracy appreciates hearing from readers and can be reached at Tracy@TracyCooperPosey.com.

Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey

Blood Knot Series (Urban Fantasy Paranormal Series)

Blood Knot

Southampton Swindle

Broken Promise

Vale

Amor Meus

Blood Stone

Blood Unleashed

Blood Drive

Blood Revealed (Upcoming)

Beloved Bloody Time Series (Paranormal Futuristic Time Travel)

Bannockburn Binding

Wait

Byzantine Heartbreak

Romani Armada

Kiss Across Time Series (Paranormal Time Travel)

Kiss Across Time

Kiss Across Swords

Missing

Kiss Across Chains

Kiss Across Deserts

Guardian Bonds (Gargoyle Paranormal Series)

Carson’s Night

Beauty’s Beasts

Harvest of Holidays

Sabrina’s Clan

Destiny’s Trinities (Urban Fantasy Romance Series)

Beth’s Acceptance

Mia’s Return

Sera’s Gift

Short Paranormals

Solstice Surrender

Eva’s Last Dance

Guns ‘n’ Lovers Series (Romantic Suspense)

Red Leopard

Black Heart

Blue Knight

White Dawn (Upcoming)

Silver Noon  (Upcoming)

Golden Day  (Upcoming)

Go-get-‘em Women (Short Romantic Suspense Series)

Delly’s Last Night

The Royal Talisman

Vivian’s Return

Ningaloo Nights

Sian’s Run

Jewells of the Morrow series (Historical Romantic Suspense)

Diana By The Moon

Heart of Vengeance

The Perilous Maiden  (Upcoming)

To Soothe a Savage Heart (Upcoming)

The Heart of the Enemy (Upcoming)

The Cherlebury Rose (Upcoming)

The Duchess of Winter (Upcoming)

Despite The Sands Of Time (Upcoming)

Scandalous Sirens (Historical Romance Series)

Forbidden

Dangerous Beauty

Rhys Davies’ untitled story (Upcoming)

Romantic Thrillers Series

Dead Again

Fatal Wild Child

Dead Double

Terror Stash

Thrilling Affair (Compilation)

Contemporary Romances

Lucifer’s Lover

An Inconvenient Lover

The Sherlock Holmes Series

Chronicles of the Lost Years

The Case of the Reluctant Agent

For reviews, excerpts, and more about each title, visit Tracy’s site and click on each title in turn:  http://tracycooperposey.com/books/tracys-trilogies-series/

Copyright Information

This is an original publication of Tracy Cooper-Posey

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

Copyright © 2011 by Tracy Cooper-Posey

Text design by Tracy Cooper-Posey

Cover design by Dar Albert

Wicked Smart Designs

http://wickedsmartdesigns.com

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

FIRST EDITION: March 2011

Cooper-Posey, Tracy

Blood Knot/Tracy Cooper-Posey—1st Ed.

Romance—Fiction

Paranormal – Fiction

Vampires – Fiction

Table of Contents

About Blood Knot

Praise for Blood Knot

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

About the Author

Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey

Copyright Information