Ashes of the Day (6 page)

For the space of a few more heartbeats, Marc stubbornly met his gaze, then he shrugged and went off to do as Damian had asked. Damian picked up the spatula and began to transfer the cookies onto a cooling rack.

“Don’t you like cookies, Uncle Damian?” Julie asked after a moment. She sidled closer until she was leaning right against him, a worried expression on her face.

Damian looked at her in surprise. “Why, yes, child. At least, I think I do. It’s been a while, and I’ve never had these particular treats, but I remember, when I was very much younger, being quite fond of such things. Why do you ask?”

“You’re frowning at them like they’ve made you angry.”

“Am I?” Damian made a conscious effort to relax his face. It was good that vampires could not get wrinkles from such things, he supposed. “Oh. Well…it’s nothing. It’s just that these cookies are still very hot and I’m wondering when they’ll be cool enough for you children to eat without burning yourselves.”

Julie’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “But the other ones are cool now, aren’t they? Can’t we eat those while we wait for these ones to cool?”

Damian sighed. “Of course. You’re quite right,
chica
. I was forgetting about that.”

“Grandfather says we’ll eat later,” Marc announced, running back into the room. “He and the lady he’s with are very busy right now.”

“How nice.” Mindful of Julie’s narrow-eyed gaze, Damian unclenched his jaw and resisted the temptation to grind his teeth. “Well…in that case, let’s have cookies, shall we?”

A few minutes later they were all seated at the table with cookies and milk. Marc eyed his milk with a dubious eye, but gulped it down gamely.

“I think I like these ones the best,” Julie said around a mouthful of chocolate chips.

“Do you?
Buenisimo
.” Damian frowned sternly at her. “But wait until you’ve finished eating, please, before you tell us any more about it. You can’t expect anyone to understand you if you talk while there’s food in your mouth. Besides which, it’s rude. And you might choke.”

“The other children never choke,” Marc observed.

Damian sighed. “Just because you haven’t yet seen something, Marc, that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. One thing you
can
count on happening, however, is that if you don’t listen to what I tell you, there will be no more cookies for either of you. And I don’t just mean tonight.”

Marc eyed him speculatively, as though calculating how seriously to take his threat. Damian braced himself for another battle of wills. But Marc’s next question took him completely by surprise. “Is that lady here to be our new mommy?”

“What? No, of course not.” Damian shook his head. “Wherever did you get that idea?”

“What lady?” Julie asked, sounding just as surprised as Damian. “The one with grandfather?”

Marc nodded. “All the other kids have mommies. I thought maybe that’s why Grandfather brought her home?”

Ah, if only he were so altruistic
. Damian sighed. “I know how much you want to be like other children, Marc. And it’s very sad that you two should have lost your mother before you ever had the chance to know her. But you can’t just get a new mother to replace the one that’s gone, no matter how much you might wish to do so.”

“Yes, you
can
, Uncle Damian,” Marc insisted. “You can too do that. I know you can. A lot of the other kids have more than one mommy. They said so.”

“But we don’t even know that lady.” Julie sounded worried. “What if we don’t like her? Besides, I’m hungry. Why does she have to be our mommy? Why can’t she just be here for dinner?”

“Because we don’t
need
her for dinner.” Marc pointed at the plate in the center of the table. “Eat more cookies if you’re hungry.”

“I don’t want more cookies,” Julie snapped, her fangs once more extending past her gums. “That’s not
real
food.”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Children! Enough now! We’ll have no more of this talk.” Damian gazed at the twins in exasperation. If they didn’t learn to curb their tempers better than this, they would never be able to successfully socialize with human children. His annoyance quickly faded, however, when he caught sight of the wounded expression in Marc’s eyes, the faint wobble of his chin. Damian was out of his chair and crouching at Marc’s side in a flash. “Oh,
pobrecito
,” Damian opened his arms and the little boy crowded against him. “Don’t cry, my poor little boy, it will be all right.”

Marc hid his face against Damian’s chest and stifled a sob. “It-it-it’s not fair!”

“I know,
chiquito
.” Damian hugged the boy close. “And there are many things in life that will seem that way to you. Not just now, but always. I wish you could find some comfort in knowing that your mama was very special. I know she would have loved you both very much if she’d had the chance to know you, and I’m sure you would have loved her too—just as your grandfather does. But…that’s not how things worked out. I’m sorry. Your mother is gone. Please do not bring this matter up with your grandfather,
niño
. He knows you must miss her because he does too, but he is still not able to bring you another. You will only make him feel that he is failing you and I assure you he is doing everything within his power to be both mother and father to you children.”

“Could
you
maybe bring us a new mommy?” Julie asked and Damian cursed himself for not having made himself clearer. “Then we’d all be happy. Grandfather too.”

“No,
chica
, I’m sorry but I can’t. No one can.”

“Of course
he
can’t.” Marc scoffed at the suggestion. “Mommies are ladies and Uncle never brings ladies home. You know that.”

Julie nodded grudging agreement. Damian stared at them both. It really shouldn’t startle him that the children were perceptive enough to have noticed the differences in his and Conrad’s preferences, even at this age. But,
ay Dios
, here was yet another conversation they would have to have with the twins—years sooner than he’d thought it would become an issue.
Buenisimo
. Conrad would be so pleased.

“I wish you could though,” Julie murmured mournfully.

“Me too.” Marc mumbled, burying his face in Damian’s shirtfront once again.

“
Sí
. I, too, wish there was something more I could do for you both,” Damian said. His words gave rise to a thought. Nothing could restore their mother to them, of course, and recruiting a replacement was equally impossible since letting anyone else in on the secret of the children’s true nature was far too great a risk to take, but perhaps there was a way to make them feel a little better. “Now,
mis niños
, you must dry your eyes and finish your cookies. I have an idea.”

“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight…”

The voices carried on the still night air. Conrad followed the sound to the rear of the house where three figures stood in the backyard, hand in hand, faces turned toward the sky. Warmth and satisfaction filled him at the sight. Of all the hearts currently beating in the world, these were the three he held most dear. On nights like these, he could almost believe he could make this work. That he could keep them safe. That he could keep them alive. That he could, perhaps, even make them happy.

He left the patio and crossed the lawn, cool grass tickling against the soles of his bare feet as he made his way toward his family. On nights like these, when even the air was gentle and calm, his fears seemed as distant as a dream, and all his worries unwarranted. Even the sexual frustration that had been riding him far too hard these past few years was momentarily quiescent.

He’d been a fool to imagine he could simply do without sex altogether. He’d promised Damian he would respect his wishes that they not be lovers, and so he would. No matter how infuriating he found the ban. But ignoring his needs and suppressing his desires was a dangerous business. The beast within him fed on his frustration—he certainly didn’t need to be reminded of that! It grew stronger, more dominant, and so much harder to manage or contain the longer he tried to deny himself.

In the beginning, when the twins were very young, it had made sense for him to nourish the beast. He’d deliberately kept his nerves on edge and kept himself in a perpetual state of combat readiness. A calm demeanor and a pleasant temperament were luxuries he couldn’t afford, not if it meant sacrificing even a small portion of his strength. But now, when it seemed possible that he and Damian might actually survive the twins’ childhood, it was time to relax his guard.

He could hardly blame Damian for wishing to keep his distance. Conrad had given him sufficient cause to fear him. He’d hurt him so badly it was a wonder Damian had agreed to come back to him in any capacity at all!

Even if he could no longer view Damian as a lover, that didn’t mean they couldn’t attempt to live peaceably with one another, to be friends perhaps. It didn’t mean that Conrad couldn’t hope they might someday be more. It certainly didn’t mean he would not make every effort to change Damian’s mind on the subject either.

Before he could hope to achieve any of these goals, however, Conrad must first ensure that he could hold on to his temper, that he could resist flying off the handle over every little thing. If regular sex with willing strangers was the key to enabling him to accomplish that feat, so be it. It was hardly the worst regimen he’d ever had to adhere to.

“…wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.”

What were they wishing for, Conrad wondered. He laughed softly as he drew up behind them. “It’s a little late in the day for making wishes, is it not, my dears? Look around you. Morning is on the verge. The first star of the evening is long since set by now. Or so I should think.”

The twins turned their heads as one, mouths falling open, eyes widening in alarm as they gaped at him. Conrad blinked at their dismay. This was not the reaction he’d been expecting. As he met their crestfallen gazes, he bit back a growl of disgust at his own clumsiness. He’d only meant to tease them. When he caused unhappiness, it should be intentional—not like now.

Conrad shook his head in bemusement as the children turned back to Damian, as though seeking confirmation that Conrad was wrong. It shocked him, sometimes, to realize how little he understood these children he’d raised since birth—or how little they seemed to understand him. But, then again, he wasn’t the only one who’d had a hand in raising them either, was he?

“It’s all right,
mis niños
.” There was a trace of annoyance in Damian’s voice, but the smile with which he favored the twins held nothing but love and reassurance. “There’s nothing to worry about. The words to the rhyme were perfectly clear, were they not? It’s the first star I see, not the first star that rises. Your wishes are safe.”

The twins’ taut expressions relaxed as they returned Damian’s smile. A wholly unwarranted sensation of jealousy twisted Conrad’s heart, the sting of it twice as sharp because he knew that, by rights, all he should really be feeling right now was gratitude and relief. At least the children had
someone
who could correctly intuit their odd moods.

Maybe it was the fact Damian was so much younger—only half as old as Conrad—that accounted for his better understanding of the children. Or perhaps it was because Damian was operating free of the guilt and responsibility that so weighed on Conrad’s soul. It certainly wasn’t because Damian had intentionally sought to supplant Conrad’s place in the twins’ hearts and minds. At least Conrad was reasonably certain that was not the case.

Then Damian raised his gaze to Conrad’s face and Conrad was no longer quite so sure. The gleam in Damian’s eyes tonight was glacial and unexpectedly malevolent; even his voice held more than a hint of spite. “Done so soon? How very efficient of you. I was certain you’d be able to last for at least a few hours.”

“Did you?” With the best will in the world, Conrad could not suppress a spark of annoyance. Making love might very well take hours—and certainly he could last that long. He’d dearly love to remind Damian of that fact right now. Maybe even back up the claim with a small sample. But with the children present, hanging on every word, that could never happen. “Perhaps I was simply not in the mood to linger.” All Conrad had done tonight was scratch an itch, something that need take no time at all. Still, it had been enough to satisfy him, or so he’d told himself, until Damian’s words conjured up memories of other nights with other lovers. Of times when the entire night had not seemed sufficient to express his love.

Damian shrugged. “No. Obviously not. How very disappointing that must have been for the both of you.”

“What have you all been doing out here?” Conrad asked, ignoring the jibe and shoving his memories aside to focus on the present.

“Oh, nothing with which you need concern yourself, I assure you.” Damian sketched a meaningless wave in the air. “We were doing nothing of any earth-moving importance.”

Conrad smiled at Damian’s gaffe. “I’m very much relieved to hear it, although I believe, my dear, the term you’re searching for is ‘earth-shattering’.”

“Is it?” Damian paused, head cocked to the side, as thought mulling the question over. “
Sí
. I suppose you’re correct. For, after all, the earth did not move
out here
either. Sad, is it not? In any case, the children and I have merely been seeking interesting ways of occupying ourselves until it was time for them to eat.”