Nightfall (26 page)

But Quinn, for all his acceptance of his role in her life,
was still the ultimate alpha male. He’d be riding hard on his desire to pound
Butch for what he did.

Do this for me. Just for me, Quinn.

“Nice.” Butch retracted his fangs and lifted his head,
studying her with his intent gray-blue eyes. “Doesn’t change the fact you’ve
put me in between a rock and hard place, fledgling.”

His gaze shifted to Quinn. “You better take it down about
ten notches, son, or I’ll have you penned with the stock. Never too early to
start learning how to deal with vampire social niceties. I’ve been around three
centuries and believe you me, this is tame. And while you may be wondering what
the hell you’ve signed up for, the sad thing is it’s way too fucking late to
back out.”

Selene’s heart lurched as she saw Quinn make a Herculean
effort to rein himself back, all while she felt his anger boiling on her
behalf, the rage of a good man who had no business being in this world, as
Butch had just implied. Though Dix kept a restraining hand on his chest,
fingers curled into his shirt in case Quinn made another lunge, Selene could
feel her servant reasoning it out in his head. He didn’t like any of it, not
one bit. Butch hitting her, the way she’d allowed that kiss, but Quinn was a
smart man, a brave man. A man who didn’t let temper push him past rational
thought. He pressed his lips together, inclined his head. Then surprised all of
them by speaking in an even, strained voice.

“I’m here for her, sir. However she needs me.”

Selene had to exert a pretty fierce effort herself not to
show an emotional reaction to that. Butch slanted her a glance. “There may be
hope for him yet. Maybe more than for you. Unfortunately, it’s a package deal,
isn’t it?”

“I expect when you were my age, you made some similar
missteps,” she managed in a steady, cool tone. “Or perhaps not. You gave
consent for your turning. You were guided by your sire, not foisted onto an
overlord whose main interest in you was your money-making abilities.”

“You looking for pity, youngling?”

“Not a bit. Just stating what is. You could have killed me,
but I came to you anyway.”

“You still haven’t left alive,” he pointed out dryly, but he
returned to his desk and took a seat, bracing his foot once again to rock back
the chair. When he glanced at the flat-screen to check the score, the casual
pose didn’t fool her a bit. Butch was a hundred percent honed on the situation.
“So you want to be part of this territory. Why?”

“It’s far from Laurent,” she said bluntly. “It’s run by a
made vampire, which means you’ve had to work harder for the privilege. While I
don’t expect sympathy or special treatment, it suggests you might give a made
vampire a fair shot to carve out a place to call her own, rather than treating
her like a slave.”

“In our world, many young vampires spend their first hundred
years as little more than a vassal for stronger vampires. It is what it is. Why
should you be so special at a mere sixty?”

“Because I’m good at what I do. Even better if I’m given
incentive to make money for myself as well as you, if I feel like what I’m building
and accomplishing is mine.”

Butch lifted a shoulder. “Not an unreasonable request, but
one that rests solely on my discretion to grant or not to grant. So what if I
say no, Selene? What if I send you back to Laurent because I don’t want to deal
with the trouble you’ve brought me? And I’d advise you not to prick my ego with
insults about letting a Yankee scare me into doing his bidding.”

Lacing his fingers, he leaned forward and pinned her with
his gaze. “I’m three hundred years old, Selene, and I’m where I am as a made
vampire because I’ve learned not to let my impulses govern me. You have to
fight through that shit. If you had done so recently, you wouldn’t have tied a
human to you when your situation was so uncertain.”

“I know that.” She bit back the obvious observation that
when he was sixty he was probably having the same struggles she was with
impulse, but with far more oversight from his sire. As he said, there was no
room for self-pity in the vampire world. No Dr. Phils here. She took a breath and
shut her mind to Quinn entirely, anticipating the explosive reaction in his
head to her next words.

“If you decide I have to go back to Laurent, I’ll go. I’ll
deliver myself to him, no escort required, and the way you know I’ll do it is
the favor I’ll ask of you. You owe me no favors,” she added, “but I’m not
asking on behalf of myself, but a fellow Texan and a good man. I would ask you
to mark Quinn as yours to protect him from other vampires, and let him live out
his life on his ranch the way he’s living it. He can be relied upon to keep our
secret.” She met Butch’s gaze. “Given your age, your mark would override mine,
have a better chance of protecting him if Laurent punishes me with execution.”

“No way in hell,” Quinn snapped. “Forget it, Selene.”

Butch’s gaze didn’t even flicker in his direction. Selene
didn’t dare look his way either. Quinn’s rejection of the idea was like a blast
of heat at her back. She focused on keeping her expression impassive.

“I had Dix do some digging,” Butch said, sitting back and
drumming his fingertips on the mahogany. “You’ve put that saloon back on a good
path pretty fast. I expect over time you’ll branch out, have more than one.
Quinn’s ranch has good money-making potential, though I’d likely leave that
alone for a while. Let him get it on its feet even more.”

“Our bonding is recent,” she said. “I haven’t had a chance
to discuss that with Quinn. It’s his ranch, his decision. He’s not part of this
deal.”

Butch gave a short, humorless laugh. “You ask me to protect
him but offer nothing in return.” His expression hardened. “He belongs to you
now, which means all his holdings do as well. That wasn’t a request, Selene.
Not in any way. You know that.”

“It’s fine,” Quinn said. “Selene, it’s fine.”

No it wasn’t. He hadn’t signed up for any of this. Of a
sudden, she was so weary of it all, so sick of this game. She had embraced who
and what she was, didn’t wail and moan about it, but then for so long it had
been all about getting clear to where she could have some life of her own, run
her own bar. She hadn’t expected Quinn, but that was no excuse. Butch had
brought that into an even harsher light than she herself had, and she’d put a
glaring spotlight on it more than once.

When he’d begged her to mark him, the path had been so vivid
and clear. But in hindsight, she’d been no better than a teenager having
unprotected sex in the heat of passion, just driven by feelings, no thought of
consequences.

“I ask you. Beg you.” She met Butch’s gaze once more, put
everything she could into the expression. “I will go back to Laurent without
question if you want that. Just please…tell me you’ll protect him. Let him live
his life, so he doesn’t pay for my mistake. I don’t expect any mercy for
myself, but if you can grant some to him, I’ll do whatever you decide.”

Butch leaned back in the chair, glanced over at Quinn. Dix
had a death grip on his arm, was back to murmuring to him urgently, doing
everything he could to keep Quinn from interjecting himself in the conversation
in a way that would get him killed for sure. Something crossed Butch’s face and
he rose abruptly.

“Come with me, Selene. We’re going to take a walk.”

The backyard was more of the same flagstone paths,
interesting rock sculptures and native plants tufting and spiking out between
the stones, a more aesthetically groomed reflection of the wild landscape,
showing that its owner identified deeply with his roots here. Wherever his
three hundred years had taken him, Butch considered Texas home. Selene knew
that hunger for home and permanence as well. Would he understand that? Would it
help?

He slid her hand into the crook of his elbow so they walked
together in an almost companionable way. Selene leaned, she couldn’t help it,
because he made it possible for her to do so. She was tired, afraid and damn
sick and tired of being afraid.

“When I was fifty-five, I took my first servant.” Butch
spoke conversationally. “Curtis Rutherford. Champion calf roper. Way too public
a personality, so being my servant meant the end of his career. But he was
passionate, strong, declaring his willingness to be my servant, no need to
discuss all the nitty-gritty details. I quite frankly was a bit besotted, as
well as riding high on the idea I was an all-powerful vampire and could do what
I wanted, that there was nothing I couldn’t make okay. Five years into his
marking, he killed himself. Took a piece of rebar, lay down on his bed and
hammered it into his chest.”

Selene came to a halt. Butch released her, moving off the
path to drop to his boot heels and study one of the bushes, brushing his large
fingers over a frond. Feathery pieces came free, floated away. “We all hear how
it feels to lose a servant,” he said, watching them drift, his rugged profile
turned to her, the short pieces of his dark hair fluttering over his high brow.
“Like having your heart gripped in a fist, all your organs seizing up. Even
though we don’t need to breathe, we’re gasping for air. It’s like a glimpse of
what death will be like, up close and personal. It’s one of the ironies of our
world that we own them completely, but nothing else reminds us of our mortality
quite so much, or that we can and do love, care, hurt…and grieve.”

His gaze lifted to her. “You won’t hear a born vampire talk
about that. They keep it hammered down, maybe don’t feel it at all. Maybe we do
because we’ve been human. Regardless, yes, Selene, I’ve been where you’ve been
on this. A young vampire makes mistakes just like a young human does, only we
seem to have fewer guardian angels watching over us and protecting others from
our missteps.”

She set her jaw. “I already feel like shit about this. Is it
necessary to kick me while I’m down? You already did that. I probably did get
blood on your nice rug.”

He gave her a fang-baring smile. “A smart vampire finds the
balance between spirit and docility. I expect you’re a little heavy on the
front end, but that’s fine. I prefer a vampire to speak her mind, even if I’m
going to knock her down for it. Tells me fear doesn’t govern you. But shut up.
Because I’m not kicking you when you’re down.” He took her hand, gave it a
none-too-gentle squeeze. “What I’m telling you is you didn’t necessarily do the
wrong thing, even if you did it on impulse.”

Surprise filled her. An automatic denial rose to her lips,
because obviously she
had
screwed up by marking Quinn when her life was
so unsettled, but he wasn’t done.

“Only time will tell. Right now you’re feeling trapped, and
you’re trying to figure out how to get him out of it. But he’s telling you he’s
willing to see it through with you. I chose the wrong servant. You could have,
but maybe you didn’t. Give him the chance to ride this out with you and see
where you land afterward. If you’re willing to stand up for yourself, accept
you made a mistake but live with it, instead of crawling back to Laurent and
begging for death like some kind of whipped cur, you might be the kind of
vampire I want in my territory. Understand?”

He pursed his lips. “Women tend to decide the best way to
handle a problem is accept the blame for everything and make it right for
everyone else. In our world, the best way to handle a problem is accept
responsibility, say
fuck you
to those who’d take you to task for it and
move forward. So?”

He cocked a brow at her. Despite her whirling mind, aching
ribs and ruined shirt, she couldn’t help a grudging smile at his expectant
look. “Fuck you?”

“Are you asking or telling me? Afraid I’ll hit you again?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Fuck you.”

He nodded. “Better. Good girl. Now we’d best return so you
can simmer that cowboy down before Dix has to hogtie him. Which Dix might
actually enjoy, ’cause he’s got a bit of the Dom in him when it comes to
dealing with other servants.” His teeth flashed. “Tonight may not be the night
to let your boy see that side of things. But he could handle seeing some of
what it’s about, a testing of the waters, and that would bring me pleasure.
Which, given it’s my house, is what it’s all about.”

She blinked at his charming smile that reminded her of a
tiger licking his chops, then he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow
again and strolled back toward the house. “So we’ll have dinner, bunk you all
down. Unless I change my mind, you’ll head back to Nightfall tomorrow night.
I’ll get things going between my Region Master and Laurent’s.” He slanted her a
glance. “Once that’s initiated, Laurent can’t take you out of my territory
until a decision is made, but I have to alert him to the process once it
starts, which means he’ll know where you are. I’ll give you a heads-up right
before I call him. But whatever the Region Masters decide, we have to abide by
it. Understand?”

She nodded, tension coiling in her lower belly. Facing
Laurent again was not something she’d relish. Ever.

“I’ll do my best to keep you here though,” Butch said,
offering her that much. “I can’t predict what the Region Masters will decide,
but my guess is it will be something along the lines of giving your first ten
years of profit to New York to compensate Laurent for his loss. Can you live
with meeting your operating costs and handing the rest to him for a decade?
It’s got to be a fair shake. If you’re not making comparable money with what
you did for him, he’ll call foul and it will get negotiated on much worse terms
for you.”

It was a sour pill to swallow, but she understood what “much
worse” could mean. “Profits on the saloon only?”

“Does he know about Quinn?”

She shook her head, and Butch pursed his lips. “Wishful
thinking, probably, but I’ll do my best to keep it there. His focus is likely
only to be on the vampire side of the equation. By the time he figures out
Quinn’s your servant, it will be a done deal. Plus the ranch isn’t yet making a
wide profit margin. The bar’s more lucrative.”

She nodded, pushing past her desire to howl at all of it.
She’d bled for Laurent, literally and financially, and he’d more than earned
his money off her. “How about after that? How many years will I owe you?”

“Once you’re clear of what you owe Laurent, we’ll talk. I’ll
expect a fairly hefty cut for my trouble for a couple years, then we’ll whittle
it down so I’m getting the usual tithe I get from other vampires in my
territory. That’s ten percent after taxes, which is goddamn fair, given the
government’s cut. I don’t really need the money. It’s the principle of it, the
tradition, the bond it underscores. If it goes the way I think, in fifteen
years you’ll feel like you’re mostly working for yourself. Fair?”

Laurent had taken all her profits, left her barely enough
for living expenses and accepted personal credit for the success of her
operations. What Butch was proposing worked fine enough for her—in comparison.
With one caveat.

She stopped, looked up to meet his gaze. He and Quinn were
both tall men. “If they rule to send me back to Laurent?”

He studied her, then nodded. “I’ll protect your man.”

“Thank you.” She meant it. “I know it doesn’t bring you much
benefit.”

“There are debts we all have to pay. I’ll consider it my
unpaid debt to Curtis.” He looked out toward the open land beyond his yard. “I
owe him that, no matter what this goddamn world of ours says. It’s nice to have
someone to whom I can say that, who understands it.”

She nodded, feeling a relief in that as well. Then those
piercing eyes fixed on her again. “But don’t mistake who or what I am,
youngling. I may have been human, but I am a vampire, and accepting everything
that means and requires is why I’m where I am now. You don’t live up to the
same, I’ll come down on you like a goddamn ton of bricks. Understand?”

“Understood.”

“Good. We’ll do some dinner now. Give your servant a different
education about vampires and what they require of their servants.”

She’d been nervous about Butch’s decision on Laurent, but
now that he’d stated his intentions on that, it left her room to worry about
dinner.
Oh shit.

* * * * *

Quinn had to keep himself from pacing while Selene was gone
with Butch. All he could see was her down on the ground and that bastard
kicking her. Coupled with the inexplicable contrast of him helping her into a
chair, that intolerable kiss and his almost genial behavior afterward. But
Quinn wasn’t fooled. Those gray eyes and firm mouth had remained unyielding
throughout, suggesting Butch could turn on a dime and go right back to beating
the shit out of her if he got the wrong response.

Dix stood at the French doors where they’d disappeared out
into the backyard, as if he was some kind of centurion at the gate. Though with
his denim-clad butt leaned up against the wall, arms crossed, he displayed a
cowboy’s typically patient slouch. He was a wiry man with sunbaked skin and a
lean build, but Quinn had discovered his third marked strength had been more
than enough to keep him from lunging to Selene’s defense. Quinn was a third
mark too, but maybe servants were like vampires. Maybe age brought strength.

“How old are you?”

Dix lifted a brow. “You’re lucky I’m not a woman, else I’d
be offended. One-sixty two, last I remembered to pay attention. The candles get
a little stupid after a while. You start marking decades instead of years.”

One hundred and sixty-two years old. Damn if Quinn didn’t
see it in Dix’s sea-green eyes, enhanced by flecks of gold in the irises. His
grandfather hadn’t had eyes that old. “So Butch’s father and grandfather…”

“Him, with different haircut, hair color, different look to
him. The childhood years are sometimes tricky, but you make up stories and
people tend to accept them. Butch was the estranged son who came home when his
father was sick, yada yada. So far it’s worked. We’ve been on this spread about
sixty years.” He paused. “He had to punish her, you know. There’s always a
balance of power to be maintained.”

“No. He didn’t have to hit a woman in the face and kick her
while she was curled at his feet. He’s obviously a lot stronger than her.”

“Yeah, he is. That was part of the point he was making.
Reminding her. It’s their way. You’re dealing with vampires, not humans. Could
have been a lot worse. Could have staked her out in the backyard and whipped
the flesh from her back, then fucked her up the ass. Waited several hours for
it all to heal up and do it all again. It’s a favorite way of disciplining made
vampires, under the justification that they need the harshness to ‘get the
lesson straight’.”

Quinn stared at him. Dix had spoken as matter-of-factly as
if explaining how to saddle a horse. What the hell kind of world was he in? But
Sam had warned him, hadn’t he? “Sounds like the voice of experience.”

“I’ve seen it done.” Dix’s jaw tightened, relieving Quinn—a
little—with the glimmer of emotion. “It’s not Butch’s way. But if he has to do
it to maintain balance, he will. Vampires only respect strength. If you’re
weak, you grow stronger. If you’re not so clever, you wise up. Else you’ll be
someone else’s whipping boy—or girl—forever. Literally.”

As Dix considered him from head to toe once again, Quinn
shifted. “I wish you’d stop doing that,” he said bluntly. “It makes me fucking
uncomfortable.”

Dix’s lips twitched. “Then you’re going to have a real
problem with dinner.”

He shifted out of the way of the door as it opened, Butch
guiding Selene back into the room before Quinn could ask what he meant. He had
a feeling he didn’t want to know.

“Dix will show you to your rooms,” Butch told her. “We’ll
have dinner at one in the main dining room. More space there.” He gave Quinn a
considering look, then met his gaze. “Dix will tell you how to dress for
dinner.”

Dix made a gesture to the archway, and Selene nodded,
preceding him.

Quinn, follow us up.

As he complied, he was relieved to be out of the presence of
the other vampire and all that unsettling innuendo. He’d been focused on the
whole Laurent situation, but now the sex issue was right up close and personal
in his face and maybe near other parts of his anatomy. Selene had fucked his
ass. How different could it be to have a man do it, if he just shut down his
brain? Did he really sign up for this?

When Dix pointed her to a door, she went through it, not
saying a word. As her door shut, Dix gestured to the one next to it. “Those are
your quarters. There’s a connecting door in between if your Mistress has need
of you. Lock’s on her side, not yours.”

Further highlighting a servant’s status. The house was full
of subtle cues about such things and quite frankly Quinn was already tired of
it. But then he thought about Selene and realized her position in the vampire
world was no different. He pulled his head out of his whiny ass to listen to
Dix.

“In the dresser, you’ll find what you’ll wear to dinner
tonight. We don’t sit at the table with them. You’ll stand behind your
Mistress’ chair. We eat after they have their dinner and are done with us.”

“Christ. Is that the way it always is?”