Part 13 (2/2)

”Oh, good. That'll give us all a chance to get to know one another. And Armand knows all the best places. We can show you around the city. Can't we?”

She aimed the last part of her speech, and her most hopeful smile, at Armand. He held her gaze for a long moment before smiling grimly back at her. ”But of course,” he said at last. ”Whatever you wish.”

Chapter Sixteen.

January 1, 2000 ”You're leaving us?” Julie's face betrayed her alarm. ”For how long?” She looked so upset, it was all Damian could do to keep from going to her, from taking her in his arms and offering comfort. The only thing that stopped him was his own abject fear. What hope did he and Conrad have of presenting a united front to anyone, if they couldn't do so here? And what hope did he have of earning Conrad's trust if he couldn't even back him up in this initial conversation?

”It won't be for very long, child,” Conrad replied in what he probably thought was a soothing tone. ”No more than a few years, I shouldn't think.”

”A few years?” Julie gazed appealingly at Damian, but what could he say? Certainly he sympathized with the girl, but a few years seemed fairly insignificant to him as well, especially when weighed against the century he'd already spent without Conrad. For the twins sake, he'd almost be willing to go through that again-but not if he had to be alone and definitely not if he couldn't count on there being any end in sight.

”Easy, chica. We're not exactly deserting you, you know. You'll still have each other and there are telephones. There's even email now. We'll keep in touch.” He turned to Conrad. ”We will, won't we?”

Conrad shrugged impatiently. ”Of course.”

”Why now?” Marc demanded, his gaze trained on Conrad. ”What's happened? What aren't you telling us?”

”Why should anything have happened?” Conrad asked. ”I simply felt that it was time. That's all. I thought you'd be pleased. Aren't you at all eager to be on your own?”

Marc nodded. ”Well, sure. I just thought it seemed awfully sudden, that's all.”

It did seem sudden, now that he thought about it. Damian knew a moment's panic as he considered the possibility that Marc was right, that Conrad was hiding something-not just from the twins, but from Damian as well.

”Your grandfather is right, Marc. It will do you both good to spend a little time on your own, stretching your wings, making decisions for yourself. And then, before you know it, we'll all be happily reunited in California.” He felt hopeful even as he said it. Why couldn't it work out just that way? All he needed to do was to make himself so indispensible that it wouldn't even occur to Conrad to cast him out of his life again.

But...he wouldn't actually be in Conrad's life either, would he? It was all just make-believe. Could he stand to live out a lie, day after day, and pretend it didn't matter? Would it kill him to sit idly by and watch as Conrad amused himself with others? Hopefully, having his own rooms would make things a little more tolerable and, if not? Well, then, he supposed he'd just have to do what he'd always done before, find his own alternate forms of amus.e.m.e.nt.

Then he thought of Paul and his hopes dissolved into ashes. No. On second thought, maybe he would not be seeking alternate forms of amus.e.m.e.nt after all. Maybe he'd just soldier on and wait for the day when life became once again bearable.

How long could it be?

Conrad cast a sidelong glance at Damian. He'd fallen too silent and, just as Conrad had suspected, that lonely stricken look was back on his face again. Conrad would have liked to believe it was merely the thought of leaving the twins behind that was responsible for making Damian so sad. Unfortunately, he doubted it was anything so simple or so easily remedied.

The look on Julie's face was nearly as bad. It was almost enough to cause Conrad to change his mind. Almost. He couldn't though. He had to stay strong and consider the larger picture. He'd failed Damian too many times in the past. He couldn't afford to do so again.

Later, perhaps, he'd pull Marc aside and explain. It would be good to have an ally in this, someone he could trust. He suspected what he had to say would not come as a total surprise. There had been something in Marc's eyes that suggested he understood. That he might even share some of Conrad's concerns about Damian.

The boy was a natural leader. Sadly, these next few years might be the only chance he would ever get to make his own decisions or to rule over his own small household. If there was any bright spot to be found in this plan, Conrad thought, this would have to be it.

Chapter Seventeen.

January 1, 2010 The early morning fog clung tenaciously to the eastern hills as though attempting to hold back the dawn. Its efforts were clearly misplaced, however, and doomed besides, for nothing would stop the sun from rising. Conrad let the drapes fall shut. He turned from the window and crossed the room with a weary sigh. This past night might mark the start of the most promising New Year he'd known in well over a century, but the night was over and he was tired. He wanted sleep. He wanted Damian. Both were eluding him.

Despite the lateness of the hour, Damian was still taking his time getting ready for bed. He'd been brus.h.i.+ng his hair for what felt like hours.

Conrad settled himself amid the pillows piled atop his bed and watched impatiently as Damian continued his evening routine. ”A penny for your thoughts, my dear,” he said at last, when he could no longer stand the silence that had fallen between them.

Damian's hand stilled. He turned startled eyes in Conrad's direction. ”What was that?”

Conrad smiled wryly. ”A pleasantry, nothing more. You seemed lost in thought. I was curious as to what you were thinking about.”

Damian lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. ”Oh, I don't know. Nothing really.”

Conrad's eyebrows rose. ”Come now, you must have been thinking something.”

”I meant nothing in particular. It's the New Year, I suppose. It does tend to put one in a reflective mood, does it not?”

”It's possible. So, then, what exactly were you reflecting on?”

”Oh...nothing, everything. The past. The future. Distant memories...”

”Paul, perhaps?”

A slight flush rose in Damian's cheeks as he asked, ”Why would you ask that?”

”It's New Year's Day,” Conrad replied with a shrug. ”The two do seem to go together, do they not?”

”I suppose you could say so.”

”Are you sorry you never had the chance to turn him?”

”What a very odd question,” Damian said as he turned back to the mirror and resumed brus.h.i.+ng his hair-so vigorously, Conrad thought it a wonder any of it stayed attached to his skull.

”Damian?” Conrad prompted after a moment.

”I don't understand why you would ask something like that,” Damian replied in querulous tones.

”It seemed a reasonable enough question.”

”Oh, did it? Why? Because then he would not have died? He's not the first person to have done so. I a.s.sure you, the practice has been going on for ages. They say the dead are at peace, do they not? If that is so, then what is there to be sorry about?”

”Damian...”

”Men die, Conrad! Surely you're not suggesting we turn them all? What would be left to eat, if we did?”

”Damian! Come here.”

His mouth tight, Damian flung down the brush. ”S, mi senor. Inmediatamente!” He was breathing hard as he walked across the room to sit on the bed. ”Estoy aqu. Que quieres?”

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