Reluctant Partnerships (33 page)

“What was that?” Sebastien gasped, breaking their kiss.

“Proof of how much I love you,” Thierry joked. “That’s what you call an earth-shaking climax.”

Sebastien chuckled as he thrust up into Thierry once more, his own release overtaking him.

“Merde,” Thierry said on a deep breath as he felt Sebastien come inside him, coating his passage. “No woman—”

“Enough about women,” Sebastien interrupted. “I get it. You love me regardless of your past history. I’m sorry I let old insecurities get the better of me.”

“I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me what was on your mind,” Thierry insisted. “I know how hard it is to admit to things like that.”

“This isn’t the first time it’s been an issue,” Sebastien explained. “More than once, I thought I’d found someone I could trust after Thibaut died, someone I could be with for a short time at least as comfort against the bleakness. And in every case since Thibaut’s death, the men I thought I could trust have left me for a woman. When you came in tonight talking about Adèle being attractive, my reaction had nothing to do with you and everything to do with having been burned in the past.”

“And with me having been married, you already knew I ‘preferred’ women before I met you,” Thierry finished. “I promise no one, woman or man, will ever take my interest away from you. I am yours for as long as I live, until age and infirmity make me useless to you.”

“You will never be useless to me,” Sebastien swore. “Even if it reaches a point where I have to feed from someone else because you cannot sustain me anymore, you will not be useless to me. I’m not with you because you let me bite you. I’m with you because I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Chapter 20

M
ARTIN
stared down at the notes he had taken in the margins of the seminar materials, thoughts, questions, highlighted phrases, anything to jog his memory later about elements of the partnership bond that caught his attention. When he had taken the notes, he had not known about Denis, about the partnership that might exist between them. At the time, it had been an intellectual curiosity, something to study and pick apart, not something to live.

Now if only he were actually living it instead of flirting around the edges of it.

He had enjoyed his date with Denis immensely. Dinner had been delicious, the conversation enjoyable, the list of similar interests far longer than their differences. They worked well together when the opportunity presented itself. The chemistry between them was explosive.

They had all the makings of a solid foundation for a partnership, far more than most of the pairs that had formed during l’émeutte des Sorciers. Yet Denis had declined to bite him last night, and Martin did not know why.

He knew the reasons Denis gave aloud, but none of them, even the collection of them, seemed like a good enough rationale to ignore what was building between them. Denis had talked about sex being easy, and it had certainly felt easy enough when his cock slid down Denis’s throat last night, but even that seemed off somehow, like Denis was using sex to deflect Martin’s attention from something else. What, Martin had no idea, but something important.

With a sigh, he looked back down at his notes, trying to decide what problem he could work on to good effect for himself, for l’Institut, and for all the paired wizards and vampires.

He had made it halfway through his notes, condensing them into a list of problems, when a knock at his office door interrupted him.

“Denis, I didn’t expect to see you before this evening,” Martin said when he looked up and saw who was standing at his door. “Wait, how are you here?”

“I asked Raymond to bring me,” Denis explained. “Inside to inside, where there was no danger. I needed to see you.”

“You could have called me,” Martin said. “I would have come to you.”

“I know,” Denis said, “but after last night, I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to have you in my apartment again so soon.”

That addressed one of Martin’s concerns. No matter how oddly the evening had ended, Denis had been as affected by it as Martin had been. “You’re certainly welcome here at any time. Let me just close the volets so you can come inside.”

Denis waited at the door, safely out of the reach of the sunlight, as Martin twisted the knob to release the latches at the top and bottom and pulled open the side-by-side windows. He leaned out and grabbed the volets, fastening the bar across the middle so they would stay shut, before closing the window and latching it once more. “There, all safe. What can I do for you?”

“Mostly, I just wanted to see how you were,” Denis admitted.

“A little unsettled,” Martin replied. “Last night was confusing, to be honest. I mean, we talked about taking things slowly and then we ended up having sex.”

“I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have pushed for something you weren’t ready for.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t ready,” Martin said. “I’m a grown man, perfectly capable of saying no, and I don’t remember uttering that word once last night in your apartment, except maybe when you stopped. It just doesn’t add up for me.”

“And you like things to add up.”

“I’m a researcher,” Martin said with a shrug. “It’s what I do.” He gestured to his notes. “Or what I will be doing when I figure out what my subject will be for the year, now that Pierre is no longer around.”

“What are your options?” Denis asked, taking the seat on the opposite side of Martin’s desk. “I mean, I know the unknowns are as numerous as the givens where the partnerships are concerned, but some things are easier to research than others.”

“Definitely,” Martin agreed, relaxing into the routine of talking about work. “I was looking for something quantifiable, something for which there should be an answer. Granted, when magic is involved, the variables are sometimes more complicated than meets the eye, but something like how long the protection from sunlight lasts after a feeding is measurable even if it ends up varying from pair to pair.”

“Right,” Denis said, “and having that quantified, even if you have to give a range depending on other variables, could be very useful for new partners especially. I would imagine Jean or Orlando or Sebastien has a pretty good sense of how long the protection will last after two years even if they can’t count the actual hours or minutes.”

“Either that or they feed so often the protection never fades to begin with,” Martin said with a grin. “Every time I see Thierry, he has what looks like fresh bite marks on his neck. I don’t see them on Raymond quite as often, but they’re definitely there on a regular basis. And I’m quite certain the ones on Alain’s brand never heal.”

“And for an Avoué, that’s saying something,” Denis agreed. “Avoués heal faster than the average blood donor because their vampires always feed from them. It’s one of the perks of the job.”

“So that research question would probably be more for the inexperienced pairs,” Martin went on, “but that’s when it would be most crucial anyway, when the partnership is new enough for the people involved not to know what they’re doing. If a vampire goes outside too long after he last fed from his partner, he runs the risk of ending up like Pierre, and I have no idea if the protection wears off slowly or if it’s suddenly gone, poof, and so’s the vampire.”

“I don’t know about how the protection wears off, but I know how you can test it. I have shutters on all my windows, but occasionally the light will be just right so that a little light gets in. When that happens, I end up with a little burn, like you might get from grabbing a hot pan or if it’s more diffuse light, I end up with an ashy color to my skin until I feed again. You can use those symptoms to determine if the protection is still intact, if that’s what you decide to research.” Denis suggested.

“I’ll have to talk to Raymond,” Martin said, “in case he has something else in mind for me, but yes, I think so. I can start with some of the established pairs. I know not all of them are live-in partners the way the ones at l’Institut full time are. They might be willing to test the time issue more than the ones for whom the partnerships have become a way of life.”

Denis laughed. “You’re probably right about that. I don’t see Orlando being willing to go long enough between feedings for the protection of Alain’s blood to wear off.”

“I can advertise for research subjects,” Martin said, sharing Denis’s grin. “If nothing else, it could offer peace of mind to the people involved. They’ll know without a doubt what the limits are after we’re done, even if the personal limits vary from pair to pair. I guess I should go find Raymond and ask him what he thinks about it.”

“Before you go,” Denis said, catching Martin’s hand as he rose and started toward the door, “I was hoping you’d have dinner with me again tonight. Sex afterward is purely optional.”

Martin chuckled, even as the thought of getting his hands on Denis’s body this time had him hardening in his pants. “As long as you let me explore you this time.”

Denis’s eyes darkened, sending another jolt of lust through Martin. “I think that can be arranged.”

“We have”—Martin glanced at the clock—“about two hours until the sun sets. Let’s go talk to Raymond, if we can find him safely for you, and then we can spend that time working on my research plan. Once it gets dark, we can go somewhere for dinner and then see what develops.”

“
T
HE
sun is down.”

At the words, Martin looked up sharply from the book he was reading on the influence of repetition on magical strength. “Are you really that in tune with the diurnal cycles?”

“Yes,” Denis said. “Even when I’m inside, perfectly safe and away from any source of natural light, I can sense the sun, like ants crawling on my skin. I can ignore it and function as long as I’m out of the light, but I’m always aware of its presence when it’s above the horizon.”

“Hmm,” Martin said. “I wonder if that fades with the partnerships or if the vampires who now move about so freely in the daytime simply ignore it as well. And if it doesn’t fade, I wonder if there’s anything we could do to mitigate it.”

“We can ask Jean when we ask Raymond to send me to Dommartin for dinner,” Denis suggested.

Raymond had given his approval to Martin’s research project and offered whatever assistance he could in finding volunteers to test the time limits and the different variables. He had also offered to send Denis home, or wherever he needed to go, when he was ready.

“Maybe we should see if he and Jean would like to join us for dinner,” Martin said. “That way we can share what we came up with and see if they have any other suggestions.”

“Another time,” Denis said, taking the book from Martin’s hands and putting it back on the shelf. “I have plans for tonight that don’t involve research or extra company. We can discuss research with them some other night.”

“I might like the sound of that,” Martin said, leaning back against the bookshelf. “Are you going to share those plans with me?”

“Maybe,” Denis drawled. “What will give me if I tell you?”

Martin tipped his head back slowly, baring his neck. Denis’s fangs dropped instantly, the need so urgent he nearly lost control, something he had never done, not even the night he was turned. Forcing down the beast raging for blood, he leaned forward and nuzzled Martin’s neck. “You smell good,” he murmured. “I like it.”

Martin groaned in frustration at the touch that so nearly imitated the bite he desired without actually giving it to him. He started to ask, but Denis’s lips covered his, stealing his breath and his brain. The kiss continued, deeper and deeper until Martin swore he could not breathe except through Denis’s mouth. He took the liberty now he had not dared to take the first time they kissed, his fingers carding through the silky strands of Denis’s black hair, mussing the perfect, slicked-back style. Denis leaned into his hands, rubbing against the attention like a cat, so Martin continued the caress, massaging the vampire’s scalp in slow, repetitive circles.

“If you keep that up, we won’t be going out tonight,” Denis sighed.

“I wouldn’t complain,” Martin replied, “but we might want to take this somewhere a little more private.”

“Your room is right across the courtyard,” Denis reminded him. “We can be there in a couple of minutes.”

“What are we waiting for?” Martin asked, the need to have Denis naked beneath his hands growing apace.

“Not a thing,” Denis said, pulling away so they could retire to Martin’s rooms.

They hurried across the courtyard with an urgency no one at l’Institut would have mistaken if anyone had seen them. Fortunately for Martin’s peace of mind, they encountered no one in the halls of the abbey or the Hostellerie or in the courtyard. They tumbled into Martin’s rooms, a tangle of limbs and clothing as Martin herded Denis through the sitting room into his bedroom. Only there did they slow down, Martin pulling Denis back into an embrace, his hands returning to their obsession with the vampire’s hair.

“If I didn’t know better, I might think you had a fetish,” Denis teased, leaning into the firm caresses.

“If I didn’t know better, I might think you shared it,” Martin retorted, kissing along the line of Denis’s jaw. “You’re like a cat having his back scratched. I can practically hear you purring.”

“Keep scratching that itch,” Denis said. He had taken his ease with various people since Noël had died, but he had never allowed any of them to touch him the way Martin was touching him now. Like they were lovers.

Martin chuckled, spinning them around and bearing Denis down onto the bed. “I can think of a few other itches I’d like to scratch.”

“Do tell,” Denis teased, his hands mimicking Martin’s as they played with the wizard’s short, sandy-brown hair.

“You could bite me,” Martin said.

“I could,” Denis agreed, “but I won’t. Not yet.”

“Then when?” Martin demanded, pressing Denis into the mattress.

“When you need it as badly as I do,” Denis replied, nipping at Martin’s skin. “When waiting even a second longer will be more than you can stand.”