Now Comes the Night (34 page)

Driven by need, by sweet, sweet addiction, Damian pushed Paul back against the door. He twined his fingers in his hair and gently tugged, exposing his neck. Paul offered no resistance, eagerly canting his head to the side. Damian pressed closer, letting his lips and tongue trace a leisurely path along Paul’s neck. He would risk so much for this. Happily. Willingly.

Paul groaned in pleasure. “Oh, yeah. God, I’ve missed this. You don’t even know…” Before Damian had even located a vein Paul had stiffened. An angry-sounding gasp left his lips and he pushed Damian away. “What the fuck is going on here?” Paul’s expression was grim as his gaze took in the room with all the boxes and empty shelves. “What are you doing? What’s all this stuff?”

“Never mind about that,” Damian snapped, struggling to keep his fangs concealed, to keep his hunger under control. “It’s nothing important. We can discuss it later.”

“We can discuss it right the fuck now. Are you…packing? Holy fuck, Damian. Tell me you’re just redecorating and needed to get stuff out of the way. Please.”

Damian sighed. “I was going to tell you this weekend.”

“Tell me what?”

“Calm down, Pablito. It’s not as bad as you think. We’re just…moving.”

“Moving? I don’t fucking believe this. And you weren’t even going to tell me, either, were you? You were just going to disappear. Just like last time. Just like the time before that.”

“Of course I was going to tell you. I was going to tell you this weekend—didn’t I just say so?”

“Oh, bullshit, Damian.” Paul glared at him. “You were not! You would have told me last weekend if that were the case. What happened, huh? Did I get too close? Did I get you to open up too much? Was I moving too fast? What?”

Damian shook his head. “This has nothing to do with last weekend.” That was not quite true, but it was close enough. “And the reason I didn’t tell you then was that I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know?” Paul’s voice rose with every word. “And you expect me to believe that?”

Damian had opened his mouth to answer when the door behind him swung quietly open. The words died on his lips as Conrad poked his head into the room to ask, “Damian? What’s going on? Is everything all right in here?”

Buenísimo
. Damian closed his eyes in irritation and despair. Suddenly, his hopes of salvaging the situation seemed so much dimmer than they had only a moment earlier. “Everything’s fine.”

“The hell it is.” Paul scowled briefly at Damian before redirecting his glare at Conrad. “This is
your
doing isn’t it? You son of a bitch, I should have known you’d pull something like this. You just couldn’t stand to see him happy, could you?”

Conrad’s eyebrows rose. “I beg your pardon?”

“You think you have everybody fooled,” Paul continued. “But I know what’s really going on around here. I know what you are. And I know what you’ve done. Did you really think you could get away with keeping that kind of thing a secret forever?”

“Damian?” Practically stuttering in surprise, Conrad turned to him. His eyes, wide with disbelief, demanded an explanation. “What is he talking about?”

Damian sighed wearily. “Calmly,
querido
, please. It’s not at all what you think.”

“Oh, here we go again!” Paul threw his hands in the air. “How is it you always know what everyone else is thinking? Maybe you’re wrong. You ever think of that, D? Maybe I mean
exactly
what he thinks I mean.”

“No.” Damian shook his head. “I assure you that’s not the case.”

“Why don’t you enlighten me then?” Conrad directed the question at Paul. “What do
you
think this is all about? Let’s start with that.”

“It’s about him, all right?” Paul pointed at Damian. “It’s all about him. You think you can just treat him however you want, that you can beat him, scar him, fuck with his head. I don’t know what you’re holding over him that has him thinking he has to stay with you, no matter what, but you’re both wrong. And if you so much as touch him, ever again, I swear I’ll fucking smash your damn face in.”

Conrad’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “Charming. And you’re very welcome to try that, by the way. Well, my dear,” Conrad added, speaking to Damian now. “It appears you have acquired a champion. How very sweet.”

Damian nodded in resignation. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it.”

“Hey!” Paul raised his voice to get their attention. “What are you apologizing for, D? You didn’t
do
anything.” He turned his glare on Conrad once again. “Listen, you got a problem with what I said, why don’t you take it up with me? And don’t talk to him like that. He’s not your damn slave.”

Conrad’s jaw tightened. “Ah, yes, so I keep hearing.” His voice was so ominously quiet it raised the hair at Damian’s neck. Paul seemed not to notice.

“Yeah, it’s real funny, isn’t it? Joke all you want. You won’t be laughing when you figure out you’ve lost him.”

“No, I’m sure I would not be.”

“Paul, please,” Damian begged in a last-ditch effort to get Paul to shut up before he got them both killed.

“And I know what you’re up to with this move too,” Paul continued, undeterred. “You think you’re gonna break us up. You think you can just take him away from me and no one’s gonna stop you.”

A small smile contorted Conrad’s lips. “I see. So, now it’s
you
who thinks he knows what’s in my mind? Is that what you’re saying?”

“You’re damn right, I do. You think you own him, but I
love
him. I’ve
always
loved him. And I’m not about to let him go. Especially not to someone who treats him like crap, who doesn’t come close to deserving him.”

Damian had bitten his lip so hard he’d drawn blood. Every word out of Paul’s mouth damned him further, and hammered home the implausibility of Damian’s plans. What had he been thinking? How had he deluded himself into believing this relationship could ever work?

It didn’t matter that Paul loved him. It didn’t matter how Damian felt about Paul, either. Conrad was his sire. It was really as simple as that. For better, for worse, and for as long as Conrad lived, Damian would belong to him, heart and soul. That was an incontrovertible fact of vampire life. It was a truth he’d been forced to accept long ago. A truth he’d conveniently put from his mind these last few years. It didn’t matter if it was what either of them wanted any longer. That choice, once made, was virtually irreversible.

He really should have remembered that.

Conrad sighed. “Yes. I can see that you do care for him very much. And, whether you believe it or not, I sympathize. But I need him too, you know, much more than you realize. Besides, you’ve known him for what, a little over two years now? That
hardly
qualifies as ‘always’. Take it from one who knows. You’re a young man still. I’m sure, given a little time, you’ll find someone else who might help you get over your feelings for him. We cannot always have everything we want in this life. And believe me when I tell you, in this case, it’s for the best.”

Paul snorted. “Nice try, asshole, but it hasn’t been just two years. I’ve been in love with him for eight years now—almost ten. That’s like…a third of my life, almost. So how about
you
go and find someone else and leave the two of us alone?”

Conrad’s face had gone blank. “I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, you heard me.” Paul smiled triumphantly. “Guess you didn’t know about that, did you, gramps? And, you know something else? Maybe I
was
just a kid back then but I wasn’t ever so stupid I couldn’t see him for what he was. I never forgot him. And, in all that time, I never found anyone who came close to taking his place. So excuse me if I don’t just roll over and let you take him away from me again.”

Wordlessly, Conrad turned to Damian for an explanation, but Damian had been stunned into immobility. He could not find a single word with which to save either himself or Paul. He gazed beseechingly at Conrad, silently begging him for mercy.

His brow furrowed, Conrad turned back to Paul. His eyes narrowed as he studied him intently, as though attempting to see past the hair and the makeup and all the changes eight years had wrought. “Paul.” He said at last, as though dredging the name from the depths of his memory. “Yes, of course. Now, I remember, but how it is
you
still do?”

“I’m sorry,” Damian whispered, finally finding his voice. “It was my fault, my mistake. Let me fix it. Please.”

“Would you fucking stop that?” Paul glared at him. “It makes me sick the way you talk to him, all humble-like. What the hell are you apologizing for
this
time?”

Conrad’s face was strained. His gaze flickered from Paul to Damian and back again. Everything about him telegraphed his mood—from the subtle tightening of his fists to the working of his jaw to the shifting colors in his eyes. He was beyond angry, so very far past furious that Damian had no doubt they were a hair’s-breadth from bloodshed. Just one wrong move…

“Conrad. Please.” Damian barely breathed the words aloud. “Think of the children.”

Finally, Conrad seemed to gather some vestige of control. He fixed bleak eyes on Damian. “It’s in your hands. Take care of it.” Then he turned and quickly left the room.

The tension holding Damian erect snapped. He almost collapsed in a heap on the floor, his emotions a riotous mix of relief, terror and despair. Only his pride kept him from running after Conrad and begging forgiveness. Pride, or perhaps cowardice, he wasn’t quite sure which. For he could not bear to face any more of Conrad’s wrath at the moment either.

Still, there was much he should be thankful for. No one had died, no blood had been shed yet today. That was something to remember. Something to be grateful for, he supposed. But all the same, his plans for the future had just blown up in his face. Gratitude was not his predominant emotion at the moment. “Oh, Paul,” he sighed tiredly. “What have you done?”

“What have
I
done?” Paul stared at him in disbelief. “You say that like
I’m
the one who’s been hurting you. Like
I’m
the one who’s got you so scared you’d prolly try and apologize if your face got in the way of his fist. I’ve set you free from that, D. That’s what I’ve done. Maybe it doesn’t feel that way right now—and I get that. You’re probably scared, thinking you’ve lost something important. But, you haven’t. You’ll see. It will all work out. It’ll be better now than it was before.”

“Free?” Damian croaked out a laugh. “Better? You silly child, I can
never
be free. I don’t even want to be! And if I’ve lost him it will never be better. Don’t you understand anything?”

“Damian…” Paul reached for him, but Damian jerked away. Paul sighed. “Okay, look, I know you’re scared and that probably wasn’t the best way to go about dealing with him, I guess, but… Ah, hell, he just makes me so damn mad, you know? Just thinking about what he did to you, how he treats you, I couldn’t help myself. But…at least it’s out in the open now, all right? You don’t have to pretend anymore. You can leave him, come and live with me. I love you. I’ll take care of you, D. I’ll make you happy. I promise. It will be okay.”

Damian shook his head. “No, it won’t be. It will never be okay, Paul. I can’t do this.”

Paul’s face paled. “Yes, you can. Please, D. Don’t do this to me. I need you.”

“And I’m needed
here
. Didn’t you hear what Conrad said? I belong here. I’m committed. You
know
that.”

“Damian…”

“No.” Damian shook his head. “This isn’t going to work. I should have known better. I should never have even tried.” His gut roiled as he contemplated the disaster before him—the disaster
he’d
created. Any hope he might have had of eventually reconciling with Conrad was probably gone for good now. His future was bleak, endless. Worse yet, even in the short-term he was hopelessly screwed. Nothing could have put things in perspective for him any better than this little scene. His eyes were opened and he could finally see the disservice he’d nearly done Paul. If they had continued to see each other, it would have meant dooming Paul to a lifetime of always being second best, of always being Damian’s second choice, of never finding the love he deserved.

Conrad was right yet again—and how ironic was it that
that
little fact should be the only bright spot, the only hope Damian had to cling to? As Conrad had kindly pointed out, Paul was still relatively young. Hopefully, he was young enough that he might find love again with someone new. Someone worthy of his love. Someone as young as he. Someone human.

“Wh-what’re you saying?” Paul’s voice was close to breaking. “You don’t mean that. I know you don’t.”

“Oh, yes, I do.” Damian scrubbed his hands over his face. He wanted to grab Paul and pull him close but he didn’t dare. His emotions were so chaotic he couldn’t trust himself. He took a deep breath and said, “It’s over.”

“Damian, please…” Paul took a single step toward him, but Damian held up a hand to stop him.

“No.”

Paul froze in place. “I’m not going to let you walk away from me again, D. Do you hear me? I can’t. Not again.”

Damian gazed sorrowfully at him. “I’m sorry, Paul. Truly I am. But you’ve left me no choice.”

Paul shook his head. “Fuck that, Damian. You always have a choice—you’re just not choosing me.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”