Fallen Embers

by P. G. Forte

  Still smiling, Conrad lowered his head to nip and suck at Damian’s neck. He paid special attention to the scars he’d accidentally left there the night Damian had saved his life. Once, not so long ago, Conrad had made every effort to avoid these reminders of his own frailty—and Damian had made every effort to keep them hidden. Tonight, he wanted to pay homage to them. He wanted to celebrate the pain Damian had so willingly endured, the courage it had taken him to do so, the love.

  He was fearless, this man to whom Conrad had given his heart, for that had not even been the first time Damian had shown himself willing to risk everything for Conrad’s sake.

  Conrad’s emotions threatened to overwhelm him and, for a moment, he was so lost in feelings of love and gratitude and regret that he forgot his goal tonight was to tease, to torment Damian with pleasure, and bring him to his knees…metaphorically speaking for now and perhaps, before the night was over, literally as well. For the moment, however, all Conrad wanted to do was love the man.

  Conrad slid a hand down along Damian’s torso to grasp his shaft once more. He continued to lavish attention on Damian’s neck and throat even as his hand set up a slow, steady rhythm.

  “Conrad,” Damian moaned again, arching into Conrad’s touch. “¡Oh, si, si sigue! ¡Mas rapido!”

  Conrad raised his head to smile down at him even as he allowed his hand to move faster over Damian’s flesh. “Anything for you, mi corazon.”

  Love blazed in Damian’s eyes as they locked with Conrad’s. Everything around them narrowed into that heated gaze. The world disappeared. Time stopped. The need for words evaporated. The look in Damian’s eyes was everything Conrad needed. That look said soy toda tuya as clear as though he’d spoken aloud. I’m yours. I’m all yours.

  But even as Damian stiffened and came, even as Conrad felt the splash of heat on his hand, the world intruded once again. Conrad started at the sound of someone knocking insistently at the door of his suite. Who would dare interrupt him at a time like this?

  “¡Demonios!” Damian growled angrily. “This is insupportable. What could anyone be wanting from us at such a time?”

  Conrad shrugged. “Who knows?” He licked absently at his hand, thrilling to the lingering taste of Damian’s seed. “You stay here. I’ll go see to it.”

  “You will?” Damian’s eyebrows rose. He stared at Conrad in disbelief, even as the knocking began again. “Oh, don’t be absurd. I’ll get up and deal with it, if you insist, although I don’t see why we can’t ignore it, just this once. I’m simply going to tell whoever it is to come back later anyway. Or tomorrow perhaps. Yes, that’s much better. I’m sure tomorrow will be soon enough for whatever it is.”

  “No,” Conrad replied as he climbed out of bed. “You will do as you’re told.” Normally, he preferred to leave it to Damian to handle the more-or-less mundane matters pertaining to the running of his house, along with whatever minor nuisances happened to crop up from time to time. But that did not mean Conrad was not perfectly capable of handling things himself when he chose to. He glanced back at Damian and smirked. “I will go because I wish to do so, and you will stay right where you are, because I wish that too. I’m not yet done with you.”

  “Ah. Si, si, señor,” Damian answered, going so far as to wave Conrad out of the room—an impertinence for which he would pay. “Off with you, then. ¡Rapido!”

  ¿Rapido? Conrad snagged his dressing gown from the hook on the bedroom door, still chuckling in disbelief. He shrugged into the robe as he made his way across the sitting room. Oh, yes. Damian would pay. And Conrad would take great pleasure in deciding exactly what form this payment would take. Damian’s mouth on Conrad’s cock, perhaps? Yes, that seemed like a good place to start.

  He flung open the door just as Armand was raising his hand to knock again. “Well, mon ami? What is it you need?”

  Armand’s eyes widened in surprise as he took in Conrad’s appearance. “Conrad…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I hadn’t realized it was so late already. Should I…should I come back later?”

  Conrad waved Armand’s apology away. “No. No matter. You’re here now. You might as well come in and tell me what it is you want.” It really wasn’t that late and Conrad was feeling magnanimous. After all, he hadn’t really lost anything. In fact, since the interruption—more of an intermezzo, really—had provided him with an imaginary score to settle with Damian, it had actually improved his evening. Damian on all fours, perhaps, or bent over the back of the couch. There were so many delightful possibilities to consider. And he did not even need to limit himself. Why not choose them all?

  “Come in,” Conrad repeated when Armand continued to hover uncertainly in the doorway. “Sit down. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  There was no reason to rush, after all. Let Damian stew. Let him wonder. Let him recoup a little of his energy; he was going to need it.

  Armand followed him back into the sitting room. “I’d like your permission to leave,” he said at last, when they were both seated in chairs by the hearth.

  Conrad blinked in surprise. “But you only just got here.”

  “I mean…I wish to leave San Francisco. Possibly the country.”

  Conrad felt his good mood begin to dissipate. “Why? What has happened?”

  Armand shrugged. “Nothing really. Nothing new, anyway. I just thought that perhaps a change of pace, or scenery, or whatever you want to call it, would do me good. Like a…like a vacation, of sorts.”

  “A vacation?” Vampires were creatures of habit, as Conrad knew all too well. More often than not, the various members of his family needed to be forced out of their ruts from time to time—usually by him.

  The concept of vacation, however, was so recent an invention that Conrad still found it somewhat mystifying. One surrounded oneself with the people with whom one wished to spend one’s time. And one established oneself in a suitable location where said time might be most pleasantly wiled away. How did one derive pleasure from the act of removing oneself from the very people and places that made life…pleasurable?

  Armand sighed and looked away. “I apologize. That was a bad choice of words, perhaps. It’s just that I’ve lived in this house for…well, for over half my life, really. And, I feel that I would like to get away from it for a while. Is that really so hard to understand?”

  “Not at all. Where would you go?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Conrad’s jaw clenched. Of course it mattered. He would not have asked otherwise. “Armand. Look at me.”

  Armand met his gaze reluctantly.

  “You know I would never force you to do anything you did not wish to do, unless of course it was clearly in your best interest. But I would like to know what this is all about. Something must be wrong.”

  “Can’t you guess?”

  His expression was so woebegone, so hopeless, it could only be an affaire de coeur. Conrad’s heart sank. “I see. Does this have something to do with Julie?”

  Armand nodded. He looked even more miserable as he lowered his head to gaze at his hands, which were locked between his knees. “I enjoy her company, as you know. And I didn’t think you’d mind it too much if we spent some time together?”

  Conrad sighed. “Of course not.” It was not that he minded. After all, what else had any of them to do but spend time with one another? But the situation had caused him a certain amount of worry. It was inevitable that the twins should fall in love at some point. He could hardly forbid them to do so, not that he’d really want to. They deserved to live full and happy lives. And love…well, when it wasn’t breaking one’s heart, there was surely nothing better than the feeling of being in love and being loved in return. But love was also fraught with danger. And, in the twins’ case, that was especially so.

  Protecting these most special of all his offspring must always be Conrad’s first priority. Which m
eant that, someday, he might have to intervene. He might have to put a stop to Armand’s relationship with Julie, by whatever means necessary. But he would not think about that tonight. He gestured for Armand to continue. “Go on.”

  “I had hoped, once Brennan was out of the picture, that she might come to feel…more of an attachment for me.”

  “And that has not happened?” Damian would be pleased, in any event. And even Conrad felt a small measure of relief. If it ended now, without either of them being hurt too badly—that was probably for the best. “I am sorry, mon cher. I suppose some things are just not meant to be.”

  “No, it’s not that exactly. She does care for me. It’s just that…we’re not on the same page yet, if you know what I mean. I want to be more to her than what I am at present—a few stolen kisses when she’s between boyfriends, a shoulder to cry on when things go wrong. And now there’s Christian to contend with and I just… I can’t stay here any longer and do nothing about it. I don’t want to have to wait out yet another infatuation.”

  Conrad frowned. “I don’t quite follow. What does any of this have to do with Christian?”

  Armand went still in a way that put all of Conrad’s senses on alert. “You knew they were spending time together…didn’t you?”

  “Yes, of course. She’s been showing him around town, helping him to familiarize himself with the area. What of it?”

  Armand shrugged. “It’s probably nothing. Perhaps I shouldn’t say anything more.”

  Conrad arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps you should.”

  “It’s just that… Well, he said something tonight that disturbed me. Or, rather, it was something Julie repeated. She may have gotten it wrong, or perhaps I did. It’s likely just hearsay.”

  “What was said?”

  “As I understand it, the gist of it was that he and Georgia are no longer intimate with one another; they’re no longer a couple.”

  “Ridiculous,” Conrad scoffed. “I’ve heard no such rumor.” And he would have, wouldn’t he, if it were actually true?

  It made no sense. Why would Georgia have insisted on having Christian here, if that were the case? She knew as well as Conrad did how potentially disruptive it would be to have them both under the same roof if their relationship was in a volatile stage.

  It was a sad fact of life for those who lived forever, however deep and enduring it might seem, love was not a static thing. Any affair might fall upon hard times; witness his own difficulties, now happily resolved, with Damian. Perhaps that was why time and space existed in the first place—so that such matters might be peaceably resolved.

  “As I said, I might have misunderstood.”

  Conrad sighed. “Perhaps.” He rested his head against the back of his chair and closed his eyes for a moment. “But somehow I doubt that will turn out to be the case.” Armand was nothing if not perceptive. And, now that he thought about it, Georgia had been looking pale and unhappy lately—not at all her usual self.

  He should have noticed that sooner. He should have guessed something was wrong. But, then again, he shouldn’t have had to guess. If something was troubling her, she should have told him. As her friend, he had a right to know these things. As her sire, he had a responsibility to the nest as a whole. It fell to him to maintain order, to minimize the potential for violence or drama—or anything else that might cause problems or bring them unwanted attention.

  “In any case, Armand, this is no longer your concern. I will look into the matter myself.” He smiled briefly. “As I’ve said, I would never force you to stay in a situation that was making you uncomfortable, but are you certain you wish to go? I shall miss you, you know.”

  Armand nodded unhappily. “I shall miss you as well. I shall miss…many things here.”

  “Indeed.” Most of all, Armand would miss Julie—Conrad was fairly certain that’s what he meant. “Now that I’ve had a moment to consider the subject, I believe you’re doing the right thing. It’s for the best.”

  If theirs was just a mild infatuation, then time and distance should put an end to it. And if not? Well, then Conrad would deal with that eventuality too when the time came. “How long will you be away?”

  “I’m not sure yet. It depends on several things.”

  It depended on Julie, Conrad thought once again. But, though he would never say it, it also depended on him. He could call Armand back whenever he wanted him. Did Armand even realize that that was the case? “Obviously, you’ll keep in touch. Yes?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Good. Then I guess there’s really nothing left to say but bon voyage.”

  Conrad got to his feet, eager to get this next part over with as quickly as possible. Already he could feel the weight of separation pulling at his heart. He hated long goodbyes; they merely prolonged the agony of parting. If the separation was to be temporary, the sooner it began, the sooner it would be over. If it turned out to be permanent, then no amount of lingering could ever be enough.

  Armand stood too and Conrad wrapped him in a tight embrace. He had not been exaggerating. He would miss Armand very much. His house would feel uncomfortably empty without Armand’s bright presence, and every night would seem just a little more cold.

  “Bon chance, mon cher,” Conrad whispered in Armand’s ear. “Hurry back.”

  Damian lay sprawled across the bed, reading a magazine and buffing his nails when Conrad returned to his bedroom after seeing Armand out. He looked up expectantly. “Well, that took long enough. What was it this time?”

  Conrad sighed. “Armand. He wanted permission to go away.”

  Damian frowned. “What do you mean, away? Away where?”

  “I have no idea. I’m not sure he knows that himself yet. I gather he’s been unhappy with how his relationship with Julie has been progressing. Or not progressing, I suppose. He seems to think she’s become involved with Christian. Did you know about this?”

  “With Christian?” Damian shook his head. “No, of course not. Armand must be mistaken. You refused his request just the same, I hope?”

  Conrad scowled. “On what grounds? Must I remind you yet again that I do not make slaves of my family?”

  He might wish to, from time to time—now, for instance. For it certainly did not please him that Armand was leaving. But, no, that was one impulse Conrad would not give in to.

  “Oh, please.” Damian got out of bed and began searching for his clothes. “We’re not talking about slavery. We’re talking about insuring Julie’s well-being. It’s an entirely different subject.”

  Having located his discarded pajama pants, Damian quickly slipped them on. “I may not like her involvement with Armand, but I’m at least mostly confident that he cares for her. As for Christian, who knows what he’s up to? Why is he hanging around our girl anyway? Why isn’t he dancing attendance on Georgia, like he’s always done in the past?”

  “From what Armand just told me, I gather that he and Georgia are no longer intimate with one another.”

  “What?” Damian turned to stare open-mouthed at Conrad. “Since when? It’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “Indeed. It was a surprise to me as well. I should have thought Georgia would have told me herself.”

  “Well, since she hasn’t, you must go and talk to her. At once!”

  Conrad snarled quietly. “Are you quite finished?”

  “I don’t understand. Why aren’t you dealing with this?”

  “I’ll deal with it tomorrow. It’s unlikely to be a pleasant conversation, you know. It won’t hurt either of us to wait a while longer.”

  “But what if Armand leaves tonight?”

  “What of it? I shall miss him, of course. But, as this has nothing to do with him, why should he not leave tonight?”

  “What do you mean, nothing to do with him? It has everything to do with Armand! You can’t
allow him to leave now! What are you thinking?”

  “What are you thinking?” Conrad asked as Damian headed toward the door. “I most certainly can allow it. In fact, I…” Conrad blinked in surprise. “A moment, please. I was not finished speaking. Where exactly do you think you’re going anyway?”

  Damian paused reluctantly with his hand on the doorknob. “To stop Armand, of course! Someone must. I’ll appeal to his sense of chivalry, I’m sure he has some. And, if that doesn’t work, I’ll simply tell him you’ve changed your mind.”

  “You will do no such thing. Besides, I am not at all convinced his leaving is a bad idea. Perhaps he and Julie should put some distance between them.”

  “Under any other circumstances, I’d be inclined to agree with you. But what about Christian?”

  “What about him?”

  “If he has designs on Julie, he’s a threat. No, he’s more than a threat, if that’s the case. He’s a disaster. You must stop him. Immediately.”

  Conrad sighed. “Calm yourself. There is no need for these hysterics. Julie is not a fool. Give her some credit. Besides, why should she be in danger here, with both of us watching over her?”

  “An excellent point. However, I still think you should deal with it now, before it becomes a problem.”

  Conrad clenched his teeth. Apparently, he did not always like it when Damian issued orders after all. At the moment, he was finding it unbearably tiresome. “In case you’ve forgotten, I had other activities in mind for this evening.”

  “Did you?” Damian crossed his arms over his chest and returned Conrad’s glare. “How very unfortunate. For, as it happens, I find myself completely unable to give my full attention to anything else until this matter is resolved.”

  “Damian,” Conrad growled in warning. “I am not amused.”

  “Nor am I.”

  Conrad studied his lover in silence. Was it too much to hope this was all just a game? Perhaps Damian was intentionally baiting him, hoping Conrad would take up the challenge and forcibly seduce him. If only he could believe that. For a moment longer, Conrad hesitated, battling the beast, who didn’t care if it was a game or not, who wanted nothing more than to force the issue either way, to annihilate Damian’s resistance, to reduce him to a sniveling wretched heap, cowering on the floor at Conrad’s feet, begging for the chance to give him whatever he wanted—but for entirely the wrong reasons.