Part 9 (2/2)

Fear clutched at Conrad's heart. ”You can't predict how he might react-or how anyone else might react either. Have you forgotten, so soon, what it is to be hunted? It's entirely too big a risk to take. I can't believe you'd even consider anything so foolish.”

”But, Conrad-”

”No! And look at what he's dying of-this disease that has appeared so suddenly and has killed so many and for which there's still no cure. Has it not occurred to you how similar this AIDS is to our own blood-plague? Do you not remember the devastation it caused among our kind? Or what I had to do to stop it? What if we are not as immune to this new scourge as we think we are? What if you catch it? What if you die? What if you bring it back and infect the twins?”

”Don't be ridiculous,” Damian snapped. ”Of course I'm not going to catch it! How would I do that? Merely from being in the same room as him? If it were that communicable, no one would be spared and we'd all have died by now-human and vampire alike.”

”So you say now. But, all the same, I fear I must refuse. I'm sorry.”

”Did you not just say you would not stop me from saying good-bye?”

”Under normal circ.u.mstances, yes. But I was talking about a letter. Or a phone call perhaps. This-what you're asking now-is far too great a risk. How can you expect me to stand by and watch as you endanger yourself in this fas.h.i.+on? I'm sorry, my dear, but you ask too much.”

Damian's face went white. ”Conrad...I'm not asking.”

Conrad's breath caught. The s.p.a.ce between them seemed to expand outward until he felt as though he were looking at Damian from a very great distance, as though he were looking at a stranger-one whose heart was closed, walled off, one to whom Conrad's opinion no longer even mattered. ”Damian...”

”Are you ordering me to stay away from him?”

”Must I make it an order? Is the fact that it's my expressed wish no longer enough for you?”

”I...Conrad, please. I would not have him go through this alone.”

”I understand that, Damian, and I sympathize, believe me. I know how you're feeling, but the danger... Surely there must be someone else who might comfort him?”

”No. There isn't. He has no one else. All his friends are gone and his family wrote him off years ago. There's not another soul who dares to stand by his side and face death with him. Besides, even if there had been others, he asked for me.” When he spoke again, Damian's voice was close to breaking. ”Has it been so long, Conrad, that you have forgotten what it's like for a man to face death? Can you no longer even imagine all the fears and regrets that might prey upon his mind at such a time, the terrible loneliness he must be feeling? What could you possibly lose by letting me be with him for just a little while? It can cost you nothing. Nothing at all! And yet, for him-for me-it would mean everything. Are you really going to refuse me this? You can't be that cruel!”

Nothing? Conrad had to fight to maintain control. It was a struggle just to draw breath. If his fears about the danger involved were even partially justified, such a decision might cost him everything. It might cost him Damian. His heart raged against the possibility. ”In what way am I being cruel? By being more concerned with your well being than you are? You pay far too little attention to the matter of your own safety-you always have!”

”Tell me, Conrad, does it ease your conscience to pretend that you're acting out of concern for my well being and not out of spite, not simply in order to punish me for staying in contact with him all these years?”

Conrad's hold on his temper started to slip once again. He snarled a warning, ”Damian, that's enough! You go too far.”

”Where was your concern for my well-being when the twins were born and you asked me to risk my life to help you raise them? How much thought did you give to my safety when you agreed to aid Georgia in her plans to take over her sire's nest, even though I begged you not to trust her?”

”Not another word. Or else!”

As the threat implicit in Conrad's words. .h.i.t home, Damian stiffened. For a moment, the air between them seemed on the verge of igniting. Conrad stared into Damian's eyes and saw all the fear he'd hoped to avoid reflected there. He saw anger as well, along with resentment and an unquenchable determination to have his own way. But layered beneath all of that, he saw something else; he saw love and concern and a desperate longing-but not for him. The knowledge that another had replaced him in Damian's heart probably shouldn't have hit him as hard as it did, but things had been so good between them of late. He'd believed they stood a chance of someday reconciling, of finding their way back to one another. Had he merely been fooling himself?

Damian's shoulders sagged. He broke off eye contact and looked away, but not before Conrad caught the sheen of tears as they filled his eyes. ”Conrad, please.” The grief in Damian's voice struck at Conrad's heart like daggers, but it was the hopelessness in his tone that twisted the blades until even the beast felt the pain. ”I beg of you, don't do this to me. Not now. Oh, please not now! You can't... Surely you can't mean to keep me from him now? Not when now is all the time we have. You see that, don't you? This is the last chance there will ever be for me to see him, to speak with him, to look into his eyes-just one more time. If you've ever cared for me at all, don't take this from me.”

Conrad bowed his head. The beast itself seemed to whimper in defeat. Yes, he did know the pain of which Damian spoke-the pain of losing that which you held most dear. He knew it well. In fact, he was feeling it again right now. His world had once more lost its focus. There was nothing he could do other than to let Damian go. But even that seemed beyond him. He shook his head, growling in frustration at his own helplessness. His jaws seemed fused, his mouth unable to even form the words he needed to say.

”Conrad...”

”Go then!” The despair in Damian's voice finally shook the words loose. Each one felt like a piece ripped out of Conrad's soul. He threw up his hands and forced the rest out as well. ”If he's that important to you then go. Get out of here. Now.”

Damian stared at him, his eyes wide, his expression terrified. It was as if he were afraid to believe what he'd heard. Afraid to take Conrad at his word.

The doubt in his former lover's gaze had Conrad scowling. He tried to stop it, but his efforts were useless. ”Well? Was that not plain enough for you? Is that not what you wanted? What more are you waiting for?”

”N-nothing.” Damian grabbed his car keys from the table and headed from the room, his phone call apparently forgotten. Perhaps he was afraid to wait and risk Conrad's changing his mind? Perhaps he was right to be afraid.

”Damian,” Conrad called after him.

Damian shuddered to a stop. He paused in the doorway, his expression guarded. ”Que?”

”Via con Dios, mi amor.”

”Gracias.” The barest whisper of a smile curved Damian's lips. ”Tu tambien.”

And then he was gone. And Conrad was once again alone.

Chapter Eleven.

Paul was asleep when Damian entered his hospital room. He crossed quietly to the bed then stood there for a moment, studying his friend while he slept. Paul had lost so much weight he appeared practically skeletal. Yet there was such a harsh, ethereal beauty to his face it all but stole Damian's breath. Paul's head had been shaved at some point recently. It was covered now with a downy layer of reddish-brown fuzz. It looked fragile and much too delicate, like an overripe peach. A single vein pulsed at Paul's temple, beating out such a rough, erratic tempo that Damian could only stare at it in fascination as fear and a desperate sort of hunger warred within him.

How little effort it would take to tear that vein open; the merest brush of one fang would do it. As it was, he half-expected to see it punch right through the thin skin all on its own. Or perhaps the bleed would be subcutaneous, and Paul's life would rush out in an unstoppable wave, blue blood spreading like a lake beneath the pale, translucent surface.

He couldn't bear the thought, couldn't stand to see Paul's lifeblood wasted like that. The end was drawing near; Damian could sense it. Paul's body was nearly worn out. Once the blood currently flowing in his veins was gone, there'd be no more to take its place.

It was all Damian could do to keep his fangs sheathed and not drain Paul dry, take his essence inside himself and preserve what he could of it. Perhaps that's what he'd really come here for. Perhaps it was what Paul would have wanted him to do...

But no, he'd given up his right to claim anything more of Paul the night he let him go.

”Oh, Pablito.” It seemed ironic and unfair, counter to all the laws of nature that Paul, who was still so young, should look so old-especially when Damian considered his own appearance. But what about their situation had ever been fair? When had Fate, that cruel mistress in whom Paul had always put such child-like faith, ever not mocked them? For twenty years Fate had been leading them here-to this room, this moment, this final good-bye-along a road that they themselves had paved with foolish hopes and broken dreams.

Shaking a little with the effort to restrain himself, Damian bent and pressed a gentle kiss against that throbbing vein. Then he whispered in the young man's ear, ”I'm here, chiquito. Wake up.”

Paul stirred. His lips twitched slightly, but his eyes remained shut. Damian sighed. He straightened up and then stroked Paul's head. His hand still remembered the familiar contours-oh, so well! It was the stubbled surface, however, that caused Damian's heart to ache, reminding him of the night they'd met, of the way he'd run his finger along the young man's jaw, feeling soft skin and a hint of whiskers.

”Paul?” he tried again. ”Can you not hear me, Pablito? Will you not wake for me?”

Finally, Paul's eyes fluttered open and focused, with difficulty, on Damian's face. ”Damian? Is it really you? I thought... s.h.i.+t, I thought I was dreaming. It was such a nice dream though, I didn't wanna wake from it.”

Damian glanced away, unable to meet the heartfelt welcome in Paul's eyes. The love, the yearning, the hope, it was all too much to bear. Just a single glimpse of that pure blue gaze, the shade far too vivid in that pale, gaunt face, the expression far too innocent, and Damian was carried back in time. Twenty years dissolved in an instant. Ignoring the ache in his heart, he spread his arms wide and smiled. ”I a.s.sure you, nino, this is no dream.” Paul struggled to sit up and Damian hurried forward to a.s.sist him. ”Wait! Easy now, chiquito. Let me help you.”

Paul sighed. ”I'm so glad you're here. I wasn't... I wasn't sure you'd come.”

”Que vergenza!” Damian scolded softly. He helped Paul find a more comfortable position on the narrow mattress and then eased in to sit beside him. ”What a thing to say. Of course I'm here. Did you really think I would stay away? You should have written me sooner!”

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