“Please,” Sebastian said. He was going to need a couple drinks to grasp what was going on here. It was on the tip of his tongue to remind Rhys what he was, but he hesitated. Rhys was calm, content—unlike he’d been in centuries. Perhaps it was better to let him remain blissfully oblivious for a while longer. At least until Sebastian understood more of what had happened to him.
“Jane is far more perfect than I could have hoped for.” Rhys sighed and leaned back in the chair.
“Yes.”
“I must admit, though, I do not seem to recall how she got here. Nor do I remember last night.”
“You’ve forgotten a good bit more than just last night,” Sebastian said wryly, but quickly covered his comment. “You and Christian were celebrating your upcoming wedding before he left with
Elizabeth
.”
Rhys nodded, readily accepting that explanation. Christian had always been the wildest of the three brothers. He would be the one who would have convinced Rhys to make the party last well over a few days.
They drank silently for a few moments, and Sebastian tried to figure out what he should do about this. Maybe he should talk to some of the other vampires that frequented his nightclub. Maybe one of them had heard of this disorder. And he would definitely ask about any rogue vampires in the city—a vampire who was attacking other vampires.
“Upcoming wedding?”
Rhys asked, suddenly. “Jane and I are not wed already?”
Sebastian shook his head. “No. Jane only got here last night.”
“Good Lord, you mean to say, she got off the ship, and I herded her straight into my bed and compromised her?
While I was drunk, no less?”
Sebastian blinked. This was just way too weird.
“She seemed agreeable to it.”
Rhys shook his head, his eyes dark with self-reproach. “That is simply not how one treats their intended. And the wedding will obviously have to happen as soon as possible. I cannot have her reputation in tatters because I was a randy, soused caper-wit.”
Randy, soused caper-wit
?
Did they really ever talk like that?
“Sebastian,” Rhys said, drawing Sebastian’s attention back from the oddities of the English language. “I intend to keep Jane.
To find happiness with her.”
At first, Sebastian found
Rhys’s
wording strange.
Keep her
.
But his attention was immediately drawn back to Rhys as a wave of overwhelming need flooded the room. Then it was promptly replaced by a devastating, heartbreaking sense of loss that seemed to weight the air and crush Sebastian.
Sebastian blinked, forcing himself to focus on his brother, realizing the emotions came from him.
Rhys stared straight ahead, his eyes distant, almost as if lost in a trance.
Sebastian started to ask Rhys what was wrong. But before he could get the words out, images began to bombard his brain like a rapid-fire slide show.
Visions
of
Elizabeth
.
And Christian.
Other things from their pasts.
Sorrow nearly choked Sebastian—as the visions continued at a speed that offered only brief glimpses of lives now lost.
And just when Sebastian thought he couldn’t handle any more, that his brain and emotions were going into overload, the grief evaporated away.
One final image flashed in Sebastian’s mind. Jane. Then that image, too, vanished.
The air grew lighter—only the subtle scent of
Rhys’s
desire for her drifting through the room.
Sebastian blinked. What the hell was that? The flashes had been similar to what happened to him when Rhys had been attacked. He was again feeling what Rhys was feeling.
He looked at his brother.
Rhys’s
gaze no longer had that faraway look. He actually even smiled again, although there was a determined edge to the set of his mouth.
“I cannot explain it,” he said, and for a moment, Sebastian thought that Rhys knew what had just occurred. “I realize I just met Jane, but I simply cannot let her go. I must have her.”
Then suddenly, between
Rhys’s
words and the images Sebastian had seen and the loss surrounding those visions, he understood what must be happening in
Rhys’s
muddled head.
Rhys wanted Jane, but as a vampire, Rhys would never allow himself to grow attached to a mortal. He’d already lost too much in his vampire state.
Been hurt too much.
But if he could go back—before the losses, before the vampirism—maybe then he could have Jane.
Sebastian knew his brother’s connection to the little mortal had been very strong. That had been the main reason he’d brought her back here, and even put her in
Rhys’s
bed. So Rhys would sense her near, and he could rest easier and heal. But Sebastian had no idea the extent Rhys wanted her.
Not until now.
He wanted her enough to forget what he’d been for almost two hundred years. Rhys was forcing himself to forget he was a vampire, simply going back in his head to before
Lilah
, to before they crossed over.
That had to be why he didn’t seem fazed by this apartment or the modern conveniences. To question how those things could exist in the nineteenth century would ruin this fantasy world he had created.
But Sebastian decided to put his theory to the test.
He pointed at the lamp on the end table. “What is that?”
Rhys glanced at the light,
then
gave his brother a wry look. “It’s a lamp,” he said slowly, as if Sebastian was the one who’d lost his wits.
“And that?”
He pointed to the state-of-the-art stereo system on one of the many shelves.
“A CD player.”
“And that?”
He gestured toward the wall.
“The thermostat.
Listen,
is there any point to this little game of twenty questions?”
“I’m just pointing out all the fine things you have to offer Jane,” Sebastian told him. “Not many men in
London
at this particular period of time could offer his bride so much.”
Rhys stared at him for a moment,
then
shook his head, clearly thinking Sebastian was mad.
Sebastian wasn’t mad; he was brilliant. Rhys
was
suppressing only the bits of his past that he couldn’t accept. The loss of all the things he loved.
Elizabeth
. Christian.
His life.
But even as he was pleased with his own deductive reasoning, he was also stunned by the extent of his brother’s pain. He knew Rhys had never been able to accept himself as a vampire—but Sebastian had never truly realized the agony and guilt he felt. But it did make sense. Rhys had always been the head of the family. And he’d lost the most when he lost Elizabeth and Christian.
Sebastian watched his brother for a moment, trying to decide what would be the best thing for him. Finally he decided. He couldn’t give him back their sister or their brother, but he could help him with Jane. He could give him a chance to love this little mortal who had managed to touch his brother’s heart. A heart that had been frozen for…
Forever.
Jane sat at the dining room table, sipping tea and trying to decide what to do. She considered leaving several times, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t leave without knowing that Rhys would be okay. Plus, she wanted to find out what had happened to her the night before, too.
She nibbled her toast, but she didn’t have any appetite. She picked up her plate and carried it back into the small galley-style kitchen. Glossy, black granite counters lined one wall, and there was every appliance a cook could ask for, all in ultramodern brushed stainless steel. The room was ultramodern, but no one seemed to have ever used all the luxuries. The cupboards were practically bare. And the fridge had only a few items on its many racks.
She supposed that wasn’t particularly strange—she couldn’t picture either Rhys or Sebastian being big culinary aficionados. They were probably the type who grabbed a bite on the go—one thing she did know for sure, these two brothers were rich. Her judgment about Rhys when she’d first seen him in the bar had been accurate. His home screamed culture and sophistication. A far cry from where she’d grown up, in an ancient Victorian with half the old rooms used as a funeral
parlor
.
She wandered back into the dining room, which was so different from the kitchen. When she was in this room she felt as if she had somehow fallen into a time warp and sat in a grand dining hall in an ancient English manor.
One of the doors, which connected the dining room from the hallway, opened, and Sebastian strolled in. Considering his brother was acting more than a little weird, he looked very calm.
“First, you will be happy to know you aren’t married to my brother,” he told her.
Jane had already, more or less, made up her mind that they couldn’t be married. But the relief she’d expected to feel at the confirmation wasn’t as strong as she’d thought it would be.
But before she could wonder at her lack of reaction, Sebastian added, without any real concern in his voice, “He has amnesia and apparently thinks he’s a viscount from nineteenth century
England
.”
“What?”
“Yup.”
Sebastian came to sit at the table across from her. “He can’t remember much of anything about his present life.”
She frowned at his wording, but he quickly added, “I guess
present
isn’t the right phrase—his real life.”
Jane nodded. She’d seen television movies about amnesia, but those depictions were fictional. Or maybe they weren’t. This sounded as fantastic as any movie she’d seen. “Is this how amnesia usually works?”
Sebastian shrugged. “Amnesia can manifest itself in many different ways.”
Again Jane was struck by Sebastian’s cavalier attitude toward
Rhys’s
problem.
A viscount from
England
?
That seemed like a reason to worry to her. “Shouldn’t he go to a doctor? What if this is something more?”
Sebastian looked a little ill at ease, but the expression disappeared almost before Jane saw it. “We have a family physician. I called him. I explained
Rhys’s
behavior, and he told me it was amnesia.”
“Without seeing him?”
“He said there was really nothing else it could be.”
“But what if he has an injury to his head?
Something that needs medical attention?”
She couldn’t believe a doctor would make a diagnosis like that over the phone.
“He is going to come see Rhys.
Tomorrow.
But he didn’t think Rhys should leave the apartment, because—since he does believe he’s from another time period, the current world, cars, skyscrapers, that sort of thing might freak him out. Apparently that could be devastating to Rhys.”
Jane supposed that was reasonable. And these men certainly appeared to have enough money to get a doctor to make a house call.
“Well, it’s good the doctor believes that he will be fine. Did he give you a time frame when you could expect
Rhys’s
condition to improve?”
Sebastian shook his head. “No. He will get better, but it could be weeks, or months.”
Her heart went out to Rhys. The poor confused man. That was a horrible way to live. Her father hadn’t been completely delusional, but he had wanted so desperately to believe that Jane’s mother was still alive that he’d act as though she was there. He’d talk to her. His behavior had broken her heart.
Rhys wasn’t trying to get back people he’d lost, but this broke Jane’s heart, too.
“I’m so sorry for him, Sebastian.”
“I know you are.” He smiled warmly.
Jane sighed and then started to rise. She should go. She knew that Rhys would eventually be okay, and she had no other reason to hang around. Dejection filled her, although she couldn’t say why exactly.
“Jane.” Sebastian reached out and caught her hand. His fingers enveloped her smaller ones. They didn’t feel nearly as big as
Rhys’s
, as strong. “Rhys needs to be watched all the time. The doctor said it was important to keep him under close supervision, because so many things could shock him.”
Jane nodded, not understanding why he was telling her this.
“This apartment is actually located over a nightclub. The nightclub that Rhys and I own. And at night, we are usually down in the club. It is popular—and without Rhys to help me, I’m going to be very busy. I won’t be able to watch him and run the club. So that’s where you come in. Is it possible that you could stay and take care of Rhys?”
Jane’s eyes widened. He wanted her to stay here—with them.
With Rhys.
“Is—isn’t there someone else you could get?” She couldn’t take care of Rhys. She could barely look him in the eyes after this
morning,
much less watch his every move. Besides, there was something absurd about the idea of her watching a man like Rhys anyway. He was too potent, too powerful.