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  I understood how erotic and arousing it was to have your man tied to the bedposts, unable to move, unable to resist you, unable to do anything other than whimper and moan and beg and plead.

  And I slammed deep into him, and the resistance I’d encountered finally gave, relaxing and surrendering to me almost the very instant my cock’s head reached it.

  Quentin relaxed and took me, accepting me as his lord and master, his dominant top, and I knew he was mine when the deep guttural moan of pleasure came through his amazing lips, as his eyes half closed and all I could see were the whites because the pleasure was making them roll back up.

  I plunged all the way inside of him, my balls slamming against his muscular cheeks, grinding my hips from side to side as I tried to get my entire body inside of him.

  His eyes bulged open and he let out a long, drawn-out moan of pleasure.

  And I started riding him, pounding away at him, in and out, harder and faster, listening to him and taking joy in the sound of him unable to catch a breath, gasping from the intensity of the pleasure my cock was giving his beautiful ass, looking down at his magnificent body as sweat began dripping down my face, drops falling from my chin and my nose onto that beautiful smooth velvety skin, his skin becoming moist from his own rising sweat, the hair in his pits becoming wet as rivulets of water ran down the sides of his face, and I kept pounding at him as he gasped and groaned and moaned from the intensity of it all.

  And his mouth opened and a guttural cry roared out of him as thick, stringy ropes of milky white cum began shooting out of him, each shot accompanied by a scream and an incredible twitch.

  And I slid out of his trembling, shaking body, shooting my own onto his torso, mingling mine with his.

  And then I reached out and put my mouth on his, laying my torso against his, the sticky mixture of our juices smearing onto both of us as we kissed, our hearts pounding together.

  I rolled off to the side and stared up at the ceiling fan, which was slowly turning over us, cooling our slick, hot skin.

  He got up, his legs slightly trembling, and tossed me a towel to wipe myself down with as he took another towel and did the same.

  He smiled at me. “Wow.” He was breathing hard, and a trickle of sweat ran down his chest.

  I smiled back at him. “Yeah.”

  He crawled back into the bed with me, putting his arms around me and pulling me close. I kissed his cheek and lay there for a while.

  But finally, I knew I had to go, so I got out of the bed and slowly began to dress.

  He watched me, his eyes still half closed. “You can’t stay?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “But you will go to Bayou Shadows with me?”

  I nodded. I wrote my phone number down and placed it on the nightstand.

  “I’ll call you when I’ve made the arrangements with my grandmother.” He followed me to the door and kissed me again.

  I placed my finger on his lips. “I look forward to seeing you again, Quentin.”

  And I walked down the stairs and out the front door.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Well, it’s not a bad idea,” Rachel said carefully, tilting her head to one side and scratching her chin. “And it does go along with what you found out, Nigel.” She gave me a snide smile. “But it wasn’t absolutely necessary for you to fuck him, was it?”

  “I don’t know why it’s such an issue for you.” I stuck my tongue out at her. “I don’t know why you hate sex so much. Maybe if you tried it sometime, you wouldn’t be so jealous and nasty when someone else does.”

  They’d been waiting for me when I got back to the house. As soon as I walked in the front door and saw them sitting there, I could tell by the bitchy look on Rachel’s face that she’d known exactly where I’d been and what I’d been doing. Nigel, on the other hand, I couldn’t read his face. He was like the sphinx. He hadn’t spoken since I’d walked in, instead merely sitting there watching and listening to our back-and-forth bickering without even changing his expression.

  Rachel simply gave Nigel an exasperated look and a slight shrug, like she was saying, See? I told you so. She turned back to me and sneered, “Aren’t you even curious as to what Nigel found out, baby? I thought you were so very concerned about your friend.” Her voice went into an even nastier tone. “Or has your dick taken control of your brain again?”

  She was worse than Jean-Paul. But her bitchy attitude didn’t make what she said any less true. I squirmed a little in my chair. I glanced over at Nigel, whose face was still impassive.

  “Don’t bicker, children,” he finally said, sounding more tired than anything else. “Although I have to agree with her, Cord—it wasn’t the smartest thing to sleep with Sebastian’s twin brother. We don’t know anything about him other than what he has told the two of you. He could be no better than his brother was—could be worse, in fact, and may have reasons of his own that aren’t in your best interests, so getting involved with him in any way could be dangerous.” He tried to lessen the sting of his words by giving me a tired smile.

  I stopped myself from responding angrily, instead doing what my parents always told me to do when in danger of losing my temper—I counted to ten while taking deep breaths. When I reached ten, I felt calmer, and exhaled. I took another breath and was able to smile and nod at him. “You’re right, of course, Nigel. I wasn’t thinking. But I don’t think he’s a danger. I didn’t sense any from him.”

  “Did you sense danger from Sebastian?” Rachel asked sweetly.

  “I wasn’t completely a vampire when I was with him, I was transitioning,” I replied in the same tone. “It may have been a mistake, yes. But it’s done, and I can’t change that now.” Rachel’s eyes narrowed; I sensed she wasn’t happy I hadn’t reacted the way she’d expected, which was more than fine with me.

  For all I knew, she was inside my head anyway.

  “No, she isn’t.” Nigel waved his hand tiredly. “I don’t allow that in my presence—and she knows I disapprove.” Her lips narrowed at this rebuke, but she simply bowed her head. He shook his head.

  I opened my mouth but didn’t say anything out loud. “But it’s okay for you to be reading my thoughts?”

  “I don’t need to read your thoughts—they’re written all over your face.” Nigel reached into his satchel and removed a file folder. “I did my research, and what Quentin told you wasn’t untrue—although whether he was telling the truth about everything remains to be seen.” He shrugged. “I cannot say; he has the witch bloodline—that much I do know is true.” He sighed.

  “I couldn’t read his thoughts,” Rachel said, her voice meek.

  I shot a startled glance at her. This was a side of her I hadn’t seen before and I wasn’t sure what it was about. Was she always this deferential in Nigel’s presence?

  There was still so much I didn’t understand.

  “I cannot sense him,” Nigel went on, “no matter how much I concentrate. So these Narcisses are a very powerful bloodline.” He shook his head, his longish white hair bouncing. “But there is very little about them in the Nightwatcher records and histories, which makes no sense to me.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It’s hard to believe any family of witches could have escaped our notice, especially one so powerful.”

  I sighed. I knew Nigel was a Nightwatcher, but I was also really sick and tired of both of them acting like I knew what exactly that meant. “Nobody’s perfect,” I replied, “and certainly not even the great Nightwatchers, whatever the hell that means. Can you two tell me exactly what Nightwatchers are? I’d greatly appreciate it.” I crossed my legs. “Some kind of supernatural police force? Is that what you both are?” I waved a hand. “Come on, would it kill you to be up front with me about this stuff? The Councils and everything?”

  Rachel inhaled sharply, but Nigel just smiled at me. She started to say something, but he grabbed her wrist, and she closed her mouth, bowing her head. “Now, Rachel, you’ve complained endlessly about ho
w poorly Jean-Paul educated young Cord, and this is simply another example of just how uneducated Cord is about his new world—since Jean-Paul didn’t teach him, we shall have to.” He clicked his tongue while he shook his head.

  “Yes, Nigel,” she said meekly.

  “Were you a good student, young Cord, when you were in school?”

  I really didn’t like being called young Cord any more than I liked Rachel calling me a baby, but then if he was indeed thousands of years old like Rachel had said, young probably wasn’t a strong enough description of how I seemed to him. Besides, if it meant the old man was finally going to tell me what the hell was going on, I’d gladly let him call me anything he wished. I raised my chin proudly. “I had a three-point-nine GPA at Ole Miss,” I replied, giving Rachel a snide look, “and I was valedictorian at my high school. So, yes, I was a good student. I learn quickly and I retain what I learn.”

  “Right,” Rachel whispered, her voice barely audible.

  “The Nightwatchers—how best to describe what we do?” Nigel mused. “In a way that you will understand?”

  “You’re right, Cord. We’re like a police force.” Rachel broke in, returning my snide look. “Only we deal with supernatural beings, rather than the mundane human crimes regular police have to handle. Humans don’t know we exist— which is safer for us—so we are charged with making sure they don’t learn of our existence. It’s our job to make sure no supernatural creature exposes us all to danger. It took centuries to convince humans that we are mythical—centuries of hard work.” She shook her head. “So, sometimes when one of us, for example, is too obvious or isn’t careful enough or goes mad, we have to step in and clean up the mess.” She leaned back in her chair and stared at me coldly. “Which is why we are here now.” She gestured to the bedroom door. “Cleaning up the mess you created.”

  “So, where were you when Sebastian was trying to turn himself into a witch-vampire hybrid?” I matched her stare. “Seems to me that was a job for you Nightwatchers.”

  “There was no need for us to become involved,” Nigel replied before Rachel could say anything. His smile didn’t falter. “We were aware that Jean-Paul and his fraternity were on the case, as it were, and Jean-Paul is not a fool, no matter what you might think and despite how ignorant he kept you. He knew the danger if Sebastian was allowed to complete his conversion. I was monitoring the situation, and had Jean-Paul not done his duty, we would have intervened. Our intervention wasn’t necessary, as it turned out.” He shrugged. “But then again, we are perhaps being too hard on Jean-Paul. I am sure he thought he had a lot more time to educate young Cord—and it’s only been two or three years since his conversion.”

  “And two years is nothing compared to eternity, of course.” Rachel sighed. “Although letting this one out on his own so young, so unaware of the dangers—”

  “ENOUGH!” I shouted, making them both jump. I got up and paced over to the double doors, sliding them open. Jared still lay there, exactly as he had the last time I’d seen him, on his back with his mouth open. His bare chest rose and fell slightly as he inhaled and exhaled. I sat down on the bed and stared at my former best friend. I reached over and brushed an errant lock of hair from his forehead. I was sick to death of them and their constant talking in riddles, their treating me like a stupid child. It galled me to no end that I couldn’t order them out of the house the way I wanted to, because I needed their help with Jared.

  And ultimately, I would swallow my pride and my dignity. I would take Rachel’s insults and condescension—because Jared needed them.

  “Please accept my apology,” Nigel said from the doorway behind me. I turned my head in time to see the front door shutting behind Rachel. He walked over to the wingback chair in the corner and very carefully sat down, crossing his left leg over the right. “I asked her to leave us alone so I could speak frankly with you.”

  “I try not to let her bother me,” I replied. “I know she’s not really mad at me, is she? It’s Jean-Paul she’s really angry with.”

  “There is bad blood between the two of them, yes.” He nodded. “She had a friend . . .” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head.

  “Philip?”

  “Ah, she told you, then.” Nigel sighed, and for a moment I could see how old he truly was. “A terrible tragedy. We have yet to find him, you know, and we’ve been looking for him for twenty years.”

  “She didn’t tell me the whole story—just that I reminded her of him. What happened?”

  He stared at me for a few moments, and just when the silence started to get uncomfortable, he said, “He was converted by a rogue vampire, one who had gone mad. Gunther’s story is actually rather sad. Several centuries ago, he fell in love with a beautiful young German peasant, and they were lovers. Gunther had hoped to convert the young peasant to be his companion, but when he found out what Gunther was, he ran from him and fell to his death. It drove Gunther mad. He spent all of his time trying to find his lost love. For centuries he searched for him. And then, twenty years ago here in New Orleans, he found Philip and was convinced Philip was the reincarnation of his love.”

  “How . . . sad.” I shook my head. “Poor Gunther.”

  Nigel wiped at his forehead. “I’d been hunting Gunther for quite some time—he was quite powerful—but as his madness grew, he was exposing himself and his true nature to more and more humans. I followed him here and sensed his discovery of Philip. But he was able to hide himself from me. I came so close so many times only to have him slip through my fingers, and so I found Rachel to help me find them. He had already taken Philip, had started converting him. We were able to rescue Philip, but Gunther escaped. And I converted Rachel—recruited her to become a Nightwatcher. Her potential, you see, was so strong. It had been centuries since I’d come across one such as her, and she has been an invaluable associate.” He sighed again. “But the tie between Philip and Gunther was too strong—Philip ran away from us and joined Gunther. We’ve looked for them everywhere since then, with no luck.”

  “So that’s why she’s such a bitch,” I said without thinking. “Was she in love with Philip?”

  “No, Philip was gay. He was like family to her—they were very close.” He looked at me and smiled. “And yes, I can see why you remind her of him. There’s something about the shape of your face, and the eyes, and your build is very similar.” He reached over and took my hand. “So, try to understand Rachel, and be kind to her. I know she’s been rude to you, and abrupt, but seeing you is very hard for her. You remind her of what she’s lost, and she still feels that pain very deeply.” He rubbed his eyes. “When you’re as old as I, sometimes it is very easy to forget what it’s like to be young, how difficult it is to let go of someone.”

  “How old are you?” I asked, wondering if he would actually tell me.

  “Your mind cannot comprehend how old I am, Cord. I am older than the pyramids.” Nigel looked off into the distance, his voice growing softer. “I was old when the pyramids were built. I’ve seen thousands of years, millions be born and die. I saw the rise and fall of Rome. I stood on the walls of Troy and watched the Greek fleet land. I witnessed the great Flood from the Old Testament. I remember what is called in your religion the Garden.”

  My jaw dropped. I could think of nothing to say to him in response. Thousands of years old? “The Garden of Eden?” I swallowed. I was twenty-three. That was like the blink of an eye to him. He was right; his age wasn’t something I could wrap my mind around. “So, you knew Adam and Eve? How is that even possible? Are you saying that there were vampires before there were humans? I . . . I don’t understand how that could be.” He didn’t answer me; he just met my eyes, and his were so incredibly sad I had to look away from him. It was like looking into them was a window through the centuries, and my mind couldn’t handle it.

  “Jean-Paul should never have let you go off on your own, Cord. Never. It was criminally negligent, and when we are finished here, I shall have to talk to him.”
He held up a hand. “Oh, yes, I am sure you were quite exasperating to him. I am sure you pushed his patience to its limit; I can see that within you. But that is still no excuse. What he did was tantamount to a death sentence for you—and one thing we have always stood for, from the beginning, was the protection of our vampire children.” He swallowed, closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths.

  “I’m not completely helpless,” I protested. “I mean, I may not be able to do the mind-reading thing or—”

  “Of course you aren’t. I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” The old man flashed a warm smile at me. “You’re much less helpless than you would have been had you remained merely human, after all. You’re stronger, you can see in the dark, you don’t need as much sleep”—he shrugged—“and the more time passes, the more blood you ingest, the stronger you will become, the stronger your heart will become. Humans truly aren’t a threat to you—but humans aren’t the only creatures out there.” He closed his eyes. “Witches, werewolves, fairies, shifters, and pixies—all of those things are real, not simply creatures from horror novels or bogeymen to frighten small children into behaving. And some of them are dangerous to vampires. You’ve already encountered a witch with delusions of grandeur.” He shook his head again. “And don’t think for a moment that there aren’t others out there like Sebastian Narcisse. For centuries, we have all peacefully coexisted and abided by the rules set by the Council. But things are changing for some reason, Cord, and I don’t understand why that is. Sebastian isn’t the only witch with the desire to become a god—and a vampire as young as you, with a heart as weak as yours currently is, you’re easy prey for a powerful witch. That’s why Rachel and I are so concerned about this . . . relationship you’ve begun with his twin. His twin, Cord.” He ran a hand through his mane of white hair. “Identical twin. Identical twins are identical in every way—so why would Sebastian be gifted with great power while his twin was not?”