“Yes.” Nick nodded impatiently. “You said you had something to say to me, so go ahead and say it.”
Lorcan took another sip and then placed the glass on the table and laced his fingers together in front of him, considering his words carefully. “Tomorrow you will perform the last concert of your European Tour, and you will then return to Armistice territory. My negotiations on your behalf are already complete, so I will depart tonight as soon as we’re finished here. We will most probably never meet again. But before I leave, there’s something I want to speak to you about privately. Not as Court of Shadows to Armistice, not as Nightwalker to Daywalker, but as one immortal to another.”
“Go ahead.”
“Scott Phillips Consul Luscian.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed. “What about him?”
“Is he your lover?”
Nick looked like he had been dunked in ice water. “No,” he whispered.
“Do you want him to be?”
Nick seemed unable to form the words to reply.
With all of his vampire senses fully intent, Lorcan watched the emotions chase themselves across Nick’s psyche. He sighed. “I was afraid of that. I noticed how you watch him whenever he isn’t paying attention, the way your scent changes when he touches you. I hoped I was wrong.”
“What business is it of yours?” Nick demanded angrily.
“Nicholas, the love of a mortal is the most terrible, most painful price we pay for what we are,” Lorcan said, his voice aching with honest sadness. “You can never allow it to happen. To even try to let yourself feel such a thing is an unimaginable nightmare.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mortals die, Nick. It’s what they do.” Lorcan’s eyes bored into him. “To attach yourself to them is to watch them grow old and feeble while you remain forever young. You will see their love turn to envy, then resentment, then hatred, as they are forced to confront their own mortality reflected in your eyes. You will lose them all, and the longer you try to hold on to them, the harder it will be to accept when they finally slip away.
“I can’t even begin to envision how terrible it will be for you, linked mind to mind for life with a Sentinel. A human might make the choice to join you in eternity, but not one of them. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t turn him. He’s immune. Eventually, he’ll die, and you’ll be left alone, with only your perfect memory to remind you he was ever there.” He reclaimed his glass and took a long draught. “Trust me when I say it isn’t enough.”
Nick struggled to find words to express what he wanted to say. “What does a Nightwalker know about love?” he asked finally.
Lorcan looked at him with pity. “From what I know of Luscian and his methods, your conversion must have been horrific in the extreme, but that’s the exception more than the rule in our culture. Did you think we were just monsters, Nick? Mindless killers without any shred of decency or humanity?”
“Something like that.”
“You’re wrong. Even without the soul to restrain the Red Wind, there is still a measure of joy, of happiness we can aspire to. We were all human once. We remember those emotions. And after a few decades, most of us learn sufficient self-control to let ourselves feel the finer sentiments, such as love. That sense of connection is precious to us. We need those bonds of affection and friendship to keep us from becoming the ravening beasts you think we are. Without them, there would be nothing to hold our civilization together.
“Duty and honor can only take us so far. Without some warmth to soften the cold passage of time, we would all seek the sunrise after just a few lifetimes in the dark. How else could the Triumvirate have collected so many allies, despite the Court’s persecution, if we didn’t want to be more than we are?”
“I didn’t think of it that way,” said Nick grudgingly.
“I’m sure you didn’t.” Lorcan finished his glass and then stood and walked around the table to sit beside Nick. He took the Daywalker’s hands in his. “Loving one of them is torture, Nicholas, worse than any punishment we could ever impose on each other. Believe me, I know.”
“Who was it?” Nick gazed directly into the Nightwalker’s eyes.
“His name was Connor. We met when I was young, not even a century old. He was everything to me—the soul I didn’t have.”
“Did he know what you were?”
“Eventually I told him, after we’d been together for a couple of months. He kept asking why I wouldn’t come to see him during the day. Afterward, he avoided me for weeks while I watched him from the shadows. Finally, he stood outside and called my name. He knew I’d be there. I came out of the night to stand next to him, and we talked. He said he didn’t care what I was; he loved me all the same.”
Lorcan’s eyes grew soft, remembering. “That was the first time I fed on him while he was awake. Just enough for the blood magic to open the bridge between us so I could taste his love for me and let him understand what I felt for him.” His gaze sharpened. “We were together for four years. I kept wanting to turn him, but he wasn’t ready, and we always thought there would be more time.”
“What happened?”
“The only thing that could happen. He died—a casualty of the wars at the turn of the seventeenth century. It was during the day, or I would have been there to bring him into the darkness with me. The pain and the guilt and the grief I experienced at losing him were unlike anything I’ve ever felt, before or since. I would have stepped into the sunrise so many times if my Master had not forbidden it and placed me under guard. The others knew the danger of my attachment. They warned me, but they couldn’t do anything to prevent it.”
Nick considered Lorcan’s words, unconsciously caressing the Nightwalker’s hand with his thumb. “Why are you telling me this, Lorcan?”
“Because it’s all I can do for you,” he said. “I can’t save you from your Sentinel link, but I can warn you, as I was warned, against letting yourself become too dependent on him. Accept his mortality and hold yourself apart, or you’ll find yourself wanting to bury yourself in the ground next to his grave.”
Nick pulled away from the Nightwalker’s touch. “Why should I believe any of this? This could just be a ploy to drive a wedge between us.”
Lorcan hesitated. “I could show you.”
“Meaning what?”
“I could let you touch my memories of him. You can see for yourself what it was like for me.”
Nick gasped in astonishment. “You would let me into your mind?”
“If you promise to restrict yourself to the memories I offer you, I will trust you not to try to steal any sensitive information.” Lorcan smiled. “And as far as I can tell, you managed to acquire more knowledge about the inner aspects of the Court of Shadows from Luscian than I will ever know.”
“You weren’t supposed to realize that.”
“I pay attention.”
Nick rubbed his hands together as if for warmth. “You’d really do this? Open your mind to me?”
“I wouldn’t do it for a Nightwalker,” said Lorcan with false enthusiasm. “But if you can’t trust a Child of the Dawn, who can you trust?”
Nick smiled weakly. “Then I’d like to see what you have to show me.”
Lorcan reached out a tendril of thought to the Daywalker, feeling him respond in kind. Their thoughts met and a psychic link formed between them, not as deep as the Sentinel link but strong enough.
Reaching back into his memories of Connor, the ones he never shared, Lorcan drew forth the night they’d met. His grief burned brightly anew as he let the memory wash over him, seeing again his lover’s smile, so full of life. He began to pull out more and more memories, forgetting about Nick as he returned to the heart of his secret pain, letting it all play out as it had before. He remembered the day he found the house burned and his love murdered by soldiers, the rage as he tracked them down and slaughtered the entire force in an orgy of bloodshed, the feel of the hands of the House Diluthical soldiers as they held him b
ack from the bright sunlight he fought to reach.
Years of despair and aching emptiness followed, until he finally stopped fighting and just accepted it would never end. With difficulty, he shut the memories away, wanting to simply break down and weep, but that would serve no purpose. He had stopped wallowing in his grief centuries ago. He wasn’t about to start all over again.
“So now you know,” he sent wearily along the link. “Was it worth it? Do you finally understand?”
Lorcan felt a memory slam into him, a vision of a much younger Sentinel than the one he’d come to know. He watched Scott introduce himself and listened as his music joined with Nick’s in perfect harmony. He felt the impact of Scott’s voice, the flash of his eyes, the light of his smile. More memories came, year after year, as the face aged, but the emotions only grew more vivid: deeply aching need and loneliness mingling with frank desire.
He felt Nick’s wrenching despair at the excitement on Scott’s face as he announced his engagement; the violent anguish at having to maintain his joyous facade at the wedding; and the hopelessness of drinking himself into a stupor afterward; the self-hatred at witnessing the Sentinel’s pride and happiness at the birth of his only child. Overlaid through all of it was the knowledge that Nick had never even tried, never made the slightest effort to tell him the truth—that he had let Scott go without a fight.
Nick wept in frustration and fear, only belatedly noticing Lorcan when he reached out to gently wipe away Nick’s tears. The younger man flinched at the intimate contact, clearly unsure what it meant. Such a child, Lorcan thought, reaching out to anyone for comfort, even an enemy. Oh, Nicholas, how can you be so trusting? The Court will tear you to pieces. Then Lorcan leaned forward and kissed him. After a moment, Nick responded, his hands cradling the Nightwalker’s head.
Lorcan broke away from him suddenly. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t—” he stuttered, flustered for the first time since they’d met. The mission is over. There’s nothing to be gained by taking advantage of him now. Why the hell did I do that? “I shouldn’t have—” For a moment, he remembered Connor again, the old pain clawing its way back into his heart, and he knew. Because he’s alone, and so am I. I am such a fool. He’s the enemy. Why would he want—
His thoughts broke off as Nick leaned forward and kissed him back, wrapping his fists in the older vampire’s shirt to pull him closer. Finally, Nick pulled back and stood, dragging Lorcan up off the couch with him. He pushed the other vampire backward and Lorcan let himself be guided, spellbound by the Daywalker’s eyes as they shifted from blue to red. Only when he felt the mattress pressed against the back of his legs did Lorcan realize he was about to make a huge mistake. He tried to pull himself together and regain control. “Nick,” he said, “I didn’t mean for—”
Nick’s kiss, harder this time, cut the rest of his words short. Then the Daywalker pushed Lorcan’s chest firmly, tipping him backward onto the bed. Nick straddled him, his fingers roughly working the buttons of the Nightwalker’s shirt.
“This isn’t why I came to see you tonight, Nicholas.” Lorcan caught the younger vampire’s hands in his, his voice edged with desperation.
Nick’s blazing red eyes locked on the other’s green. “But you’re not going to turn me down, are you?” He smiled confidently, his fangs drawing closer to Lorcan’s neck.
Unable to look away, Lorcan swallowed and felt his own eyes change, his own fangs extend as his control began to slip. “No,” he whispered, his voice deepening. I want this. I don’t care what it means. “No, I’m not.”
Nick leaned forward and kissed him again, then reached out with his mind to turn off the lights.
* * *
Lorcan woke just before dawn, instinctively feeling the sunrise about an hour away. Hearing a soft rustling, he opened his eyes to find Nick in a chair across from him. Wearing only white sweat pants, he was sketching Lorcan’s naked body with a charcoal pencil. Noticing Lorcan was awake, Nick continued to draw, taking it for granted his subject wouldn’t move or interrupt.
Lorcan tried to generate some indignation at the casual assumption of dominance but couldn’t muster the will. I am five hundred years old, he thought ruefully, and after one night together, this fledgling thinks he already has me wrapped around his fingers. The Nightwalker watched as Nick’s eyes darted between him and the drawing, focused and intent. Lorcan found himself curiously pleased at being the object of their attention. Maybe he’s right.
The whisper of charcoal on paper stopped, and Nick put the sketchpad and pencil down on the coffee table. The two vampires regarded each other appraisingly.
Finally, Lorcan broke the silence. “Come back to bed, Nick.”
Nick gave him a crooked smile. “Why?”
“Because I asked you to.”
Nick didn’t move, just continued to smile.
Lorcan sighed. Dominance be damned. “Because I want you.”
Nick’s smile widened into a grin, and he stood. Pushing down his sweatpants, he slid naked into bed next to Lorcan, who drew the covers over them. He gazed into Nick’s eyes momentarily, then pushed him back, rolling Nick’s body so that the younger man faced away from him. Inching forward, he molded his body to the Daywalker’s back, their legs intertwined, and fit his chin into the crook of Nick’s neck. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he whispered, intoxicated by Nick’s scent and thrilled by the reverberation of Nick’s sudden laughter as it rippled through his body.
“So the negotiations weren’t just an excuse to get your hooks into me?”
Lorcan kissed the curve of Nick’s shoulder. “Of course they were. But I was supposed to seduce you, not the other way around.”
Reaching up to clasp Lorcan’s arm where it wrapped around his chest, Nick said, “You were telling the truth before, weren’t you? You came to my room to warn me, not for anything else.”
“I had given up trying to influence you.” Lorcan chuckled. “Your dyad brother was on to me from the beginning. He delighted in blocking my efforts. It was quite frustrating. I was actually planning to leave last night. But when I saw the way you kept looking at him, I decided I couldn’t leave without at least trying to give you some advice.”
Nick pushed back slightly, embedding himself more firmly in Lorcan’s embrace as the Nightwalker tightened his arm around him. “Thanks, that was actually pretty decent of you.” He was silent for a moment, thinking. “If you were sent to try and recruit me, is your lack of success going to be a problem?”
Lorcan pulled Nick toward him, turning him onto his back. Lying on his side, with his head propped on his arm, Lorcan trailed his fingers up and down Nick’s lean, well-muscled chest. “The odds were pretty long against my being able to turn you against the Triumvirate in just two weeks, so there won’t be any perception of failure on my part. And besides…” He leaned in and kissed Nick lightly on the lips, smiling. “I can at least report a qualified success on making a personal connection.”
Nick grinned at him again. “You’d tarnish my reputation to further your career? Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Because you’re becoming a realist rather than a dreamer.” Lorcan looked at him wistfully and reached up to stroke Nick’s cheek. “My beautiful Nicholas,” he whispered, “you’re so young and still so innocent, despite what you might think. I hadn’t realized how jaded I was until you reminded me of someone I used to be. I might even miss you.”
Nick caught Lorcan’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together. “You could always come with me, Ruarc.”
Hearing his true name out loud, Lorcan’s breath stilled in his throat. “I haven’t used that name in four hundred years. No one has called me that since Connor.”
“I’m sorry,” said Nick. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s all right, Nick,” he whispered. “I don’t mind hearing it from you.”
“Think about it, Ruarc. The Triumvirate needs people with your skills, your experience.”
Lorcan smiled
indulgently at him. “Nicholas, you’re not honestly telling me you dragged me into bed to try and enlist me to your side, are you?”
“No.” Nick grinned. “Not entirely. Turnabout is fair play, after all.” Nick let his smile fade as he brushed his fingers gently through Lorcan’s tousled hair. “I judged your entire race by Luscian. I never thought a Nightwalker would be capable of mercy. You shared a part of yourself that was precious to you, just to spare me pain. That means something to me. I don’t let people see how I feel about Scott. I’ve never told anyone except Rory. So my offer is open-ended. You said you wanted to be more than you are. Someday, when you’re ready, come find me, and I’ll make sure the Redeemer is waiting for you.”
Lorcan rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t think I could ever do that. Trying to reclaim my soul is truly a terrifying prospect. After all the things I’ve done, I’m not sure if I want to know what it thinks of me.”
“There’s no hurry. The Great Work won’t end overnight. You have all the time in the world.” Nick moved to lie on top of Lorcan. “In the meantime, we still have an hour or two before Scott wakes up.”
Lorcan smiled up at him. “It would be suicide to let him find me in here with you, corrupting his innocent young Daywalker.”
Nick ground himself against the older vampire’s body, making him gasp. “Then use the time you have left to say goodbye to me properly.”
* * *
Lorcan watched from behind a shroud of invisibility as Nick followed his bandmate into the dressing room. He could still hear the screams of the crowd back in the arena.
“Scott, hit the showers fast, okay?” Nick said. “We should make an appearance at the wrap party.”
Scott snorted. “Every tour you always say the same thing. Give it a rest, will you? They haven’t even started breaking down the equipment. The party’s going to last all night.”
“Yeah, I know. I know.” Nick raised his hands in defeat. “It’s just, well, it feels different this time. Our lives have changed. Our eyes are open. Who knows if we’ll do this again?”
Sunset: Pact Arcanum: Book One Page 10
