Fallen Embers (4 page)

Georgia sighed. On the other hand, perhaps Julie was just that much smarter than she. Only look where her infatuation with Christian had gotten her. It had complicated her life. It had caused her to take dangerous risks. In the end, it had changed
everything
. But that was water under a very old bridge.

Christian's ongoing obsession with the twins was a more immediate cause for concern. It was enough to make Georgia regret having told him to keep an eye on the two of them in the first place. An eye, yes, but did he really have to spend every night with the girl?

Or had Georgia been misinformed? He certainly was not with Julie now.

The path looped around the slight rise where Georgia had been seated. Hidden in the shadows, she pivoted slowly, keeping the girl in sight. There was something so familiar about her.
Why do I feel I know you from somewhere else?

The persistent feeling of
déjà vu
persisted. It was the same nagging sensation that had been present since Georgia first laid eyes on the girl last October, at that ridiculous birthday party Conrad had thrown for the twins.

Birthday parties—what next?

It was not like Conrad to encourage his children to indulge in pointless reminders of a life they'd willingly given up. And seeing as it was Conrad who'd turned the two of them, she had to believe it
had
been willingly, no matter how unlikely the whole situation appeared.

How many times, over the centuries, had Conrad insisted that he would never sire another vampire? Several decades would pass and there he'd be, with yet another new fledgling in tow. Not that she blamed him. The urge to increase one's family was fierce and persistent, the act itself so pleasurable…

How much better would her life have been if she'd never have started.

She supposed Damian must have talked Conrad into the party—and possibly into turning the twins as well, for that matter.
That
would certainly not surprise her. Not only would it explain the odd bond Damian had formed with the twins, it would be perfectly in character. Conrad had spoiled him from the start, indulging his every foolish notion. It was a wonder there had not been even more parties—for every conceivable occasion. Groundhog's Day. Bastille Day. Valentine's. Christmas.

Christmas…

Elusive as a bioluminescent eel undulating over a charcoal sea, another memory rose to the surface of Georgia's mind. It wriggled through her thoughts, here…now there…now gone again. Conrad
had
thrown a Christmas party here once, hadn't he? And not that long ago. Certainly it was recent enough that she should be able to recall it…

Ah, yes. Now she had it. That silly girl with whom he'd been so infatuated—the one with the cookies and the Christmas tree and the regrettably naïve view of life, the one Armand had been so dangerously attracted to. Another of Conrad's whims. Another near-disaster. However had she let
that
unpleasantness slip her mind?

Chapter Three

The night was nearly over when Julie finally turned and headed for home. She'd been running for hours, trying to clear her mind and rid herself of the anger, hurt and frustration she was feeling. Now, as she reluctantly left the shelter of the trees and switched back to pavement and empty sidewalks and a city just beginning to stir awake, she slowed her pace, but only as much as necessity dictated.

She was heading east, so a certain amount of haste was warranted. If she didn't hurry, the rising sun would be in her eyes once it cleared the hills. She'd long since built up a decent tolerance for being out-of-doors in daylight, but dawn and dusk were still the worst. Direct sunlight messed with her eyesight. It left her feeling weak, disoriented, more vulnerable than she liked.

As she approached the parking lot of a grocery store situated along the Marina, the hair at the back of her neck lifted. There it was again, that same strange certainty she'd felt earlier tonight. She slowed even more, subtly scanning the vicinity. Somewhere out there, concealed from her by the dusk, a pair of eyes tracked her movements. Someone was watching her.

Armand?

The thought sprang to mind with the ease of habit and stirred up a longing she tried hard to ignore. She tamped down the excited pattering of her heart and grasped instead for a sense of annoyance—a much less dangerous emotion.

“Damn it, what's it going to take to make him stop?”

Angry now, she pushed her senses outward, seeking confirmation. How many times had they had the same conversation? She'd told him how much she disliked being followed, being spied on. When would he get the message?

Unless he already had?

Her footsteps faltered as the realization hit. Whoever was out there, skulking in the darkness, it wasn't Armand. She supposed she should feel relieved, or possibly frightened, but as she scented the air, searching for clues to her watcher's identity, all she felt was disappointment. She should have known better. She should have realized right away that there was no way Armand would have come after her. Not tonight.

There'd been plenty of times lately when she'd found herself wishing Armand would go away, times when she thought she'd be well rid of him if he did. She wouldn't have been surprised to learn he felt the same way about her. This thing between them had always been difficult, for a variety of reasons. But tonight things had really gone to hell…

She and Christian had just returned home from the club. “Let's go to your room,” he'd suggested, putting a hand on her arm and drawing her to a stop just a few yards inside the mansion's front gate. “Please.”

“My room?” Julie frowned. He couldn't possibly mean that the way it sounded. “Why would we want to go there?”

It was a nice room and she was pretty sure Damian had decorated it with her in mind, but it was nothing special, other than as a place to hide things she didn't want found—just one of the reasons she kept it strictly off limits to anyone else.

“It's just an ordinary bedroom, you know. Besides, I was kind of thinking I'd go for a run.”

“Ordinary?” Christian smiled teasingly at her. “Oh, I'd hardly call it that.”

“You wouldn't?”

“Never.” He reached for her other hand and tugged her around to face him. “No room could ever be ordinary if it had you in it. Besides, it has to be your room. We can't really be alone if we go back to my room, can we?”

Julie flushed at the flattery—and the implication. He wanted to be alone with her? She hadn't seen that one coming. “What about Georgia?”

“Exactly right. That's why I suggested we go to
your
room.”

“No, I mean…I thought you two were, you know, a couple?”

Christian's lips thinned. He paused for a moment, gazing off into the distance, as though he were casting around in his mind for just the right words. “I care for her very much,” he said at last. “But I think, perhaps, my relationship with her now is not so different from yours is with Conrad.”

Julie sighed. “Somehow, I doubt it.”

Nearly everyone here assumed that she and Conrad had been lovers at some point—never mind that the whole concept appalled her. No matter what she said, she couldn't get anyone to believe that wasn't the case. On the other hand, perhaps
that
was the point Christian was trying to make?

No matter how unlikely it seemed, she couldn't very well refuse to take him at his word now and then complain later when others did the same to her.

“Okay, well, in that case…” In that case, she'd really have to reevaluate what was going on here. She'd thought she and Christian were friends. Friends who flirted and danced with each other, who gave one another presents and occasionally kissed—but still just friends. She'd been content with that. She really wasn't looking for anything more in a relationship right now anyway.

It was too soon after her breakup with Brennan, for one thing. And, for another…if she
were
to get seriously involved with anyone else right now, she wasn't sure Christian was the one she'd pick.

Sure, she enjoyed his company. He had glamour and novelty and a very dreamy accent on his side—along with a very refreshing, complete-lack-of-history with her mother. She'd been flattered by the attention he'd lavished on her, touched by the gifts he gave her.

She'd never had that before—people giving her presents for no reason at all. And even when those gifts were flowers he'd picked himself from one of Conrad's gardens, even when she ended up clumsily stabbing her fingers on several of the thorns he'd left in place, she appreciated the gesture. Just as she appreciated his effusive apologies, the solicitous way he insisted on caring for the small injuries, using his own handkerchief to apply pressure, carefully wiping away the blood when she could have just as easily licked the cuts clean, taking an immense amount of time…

She might even have had the tiniest of crushes on him as a result of all that—especially at first. But glamour and crushes, even flattery, could only take a girl so far. In the end, there was still Armand to consider.

Julie was still trying to figure out a way to gently convey her feelings when Christian crowded close and kissed her.

The move took her by surprise. But, within seconds, an unexpected hunger arose within her. Instinct and need kicked the hunger into high gear. Before she knew what she was doing, she was kissing him back.

It was not their first kiss. There had been several, gentle, friendly, exploratory kisses; this one felt different, this one felt like
more
. Julie wasn't surprised when her fangs emerged. She might be content to remain friends in all other respects, but there was one part of Christian she'd been lusting after from the start. She wanted his blood.

The first time she'd tasted it had been several months earlier, shortly after he'd arrived in the city. They'd arranged to meet, just as they had tonight, so that she might show him around town and familiarize him with the area. He'd arrived late, looking surprisingly disheveled, with delicious trickles of blood still welling from a series of vicious-looking wounds that peeked out from behind his collar. Georgia's doing, Julie supposed, surprised and more than a little affronted by the older vampire's carelessness.

Hadn't
anyone
in this household, other than she and Marc, been taught to clean up after themselves?

Maybe she should have minded her own business. Maybe she should have suggested that Christian deal with the wounds himself, impractical though that would have been, given their inconvenient location. Perhaps she should have urged him to go to Conrad and complain about Georgia's mistreatment. But the importance of discretion had been drummed into Julie's head from the time she was a very small child, and so the
one thing
she absolutely could not do was ignore it.

Conrad and Damian had always made it very clear:
“If you remember nothing else, remember this: you must never leave any evidence behind. Always clean up after yourself.”

She couldn't allow Christian to accompany her anywhere with blood running down his neck. If he couldn't take care of the matter on his own, the next most obvious solution was to deal with it herself.

Christian had gasped in surprise when she tugged his collar aside, and then quickly licked him clean. By the time he'd recovered enough to try and push her away, the deed was done.

She hadn't intended to make him uncomfortable. In fact, she'd made every effort to keep the contact as brief and impersonal as possible. It was awkward just the same.

“Sorry,” she'd said by way of apology. “I just needed to take care of that. House rules, you know?”

But Christian, it seemed, did not know. The invasion of his personal space had obviously upset him far more than she'd expected. He'd been flustered into speechlessness, remaining unusually quiet for the rest of the night and wary for several nights thereafter. Julie tried not to take it personally, but her feelings had been a little bit hurt.

Now that she thought of it, maybe the flowers, which he'd presented to her a few weeks later, had not been for “no reason”. Perhaps he'd meant them as a belated apology?

Either way, it didn't matter. The flowers hadn't lasted long, but the flavor of his blood, the taste of venom with which it was layered, that had stayed with her. She was not ashamed to admit she wanted more of it. She was Vampire, why would she not want more blood? And his was delicious, heady, intense, different from anything she'd ever experienced. She wanted to roll it along her tongue and track down the elusive…something…that teased at her senses, something piquant and strange, almost bittersweet.

There were several considerations that had kept her from pursuing a relationship with Christian, the predominant one being her belief that he and Georgia were in a committed relationship of sorts. Even though she'd been here long enough to figure out that the connections between most vampires could best be described as fluid and non-exclusive, it was still a deterrent. But, if that were no longer the case…

Responding to the want roiling within her, Julie wrapped her arms around Christian's neck, to anchor him in place. She felt his heart leap in response. He groaned and pulled her close, seemingly as needy as she. But just as Julie was about to sink her fangs into Christian's lower lip a low-pitched growl reached her ears.

Julie's heart clenched. She knew that snarl. When Christian let her go, with guilty haste, she turned and instantly oriented on its source. “Damn it, Armand. Why must you always sneak up on me like this?”

It was just a kiss, fueled by hunger and curiosity and very little else, just a craving for an odd sort of snack. It was innocent, harmless. She'd done
nothing
she need feel guilty about. Her face heated with embarrassment just the same.

It wasn't fair! If anyone should be feeling guilty it was definitely Armand. Why, just look at how many times he'd kissed her back when she was still with Brennan. And every one of those kisses had been hotter, more sexual,
more meaningful
than the one she'd just shared with Christian.

He had no right to complain—or to snarl, or to lurk, or to look at her like he was doing right now. As though she'd somehow betrayed him.

“Sneak up on you?” Armand scoffed. “I did no such thing. And if either of you were paying attention to your surroundings, as you ought to have been doing, you would have heard me come up behind you much sooner than you did. You should be ashamed to have allowed yourselves to become so distracted.”

“Now, see here,” Christian began, but Julie rode right over him.

“You're not my father, Armand, so don't you dare lecture me. Besides, it's perfectly safe here. There's no reason for any of us to be on guard.”

Armand's eyes flashed hazel and bronze. “You're an idiot if you believe that. Why, there's more danger within these walls than practically anywhere else you could choose for your foolish tryst.”

Christian scowled. “Listen to me, old chap, enough is enough. There's no harm done. You've no call to go on scolding the girl. Let it go.”

Julie rolled her eyes. Christian sounded like something out of a movie. A really old movie. Surely no one actually said things like that anymore, did they? It was so graphic a reminder of how very much older he was that it kind of frightened her. It also made her furious. She was
not
a girl. She was a grown woman—something neither of the men seemed willing to accept.

“You had no business jeopardizing her safety,” Armand insisted. “She doesn't know what the
Invitus
are like. She's far too young to have any idea what she's up against.”

“Whereas I am a good deal older than both of you,” Christian pointed out. “And know more about
Invitus
than either of you could ever hope to learn in even a hundred years. You live such sheltered lives here, you have no idea.”

“All the more reason to behave with caution!”

“Wait a minute.” Julie glared angrily at the two men. “Correct me if I'm wrong, guys, but what you two're saying is that I'm either too young or too stupid to know what I'm doing? Is that what I'm hearing?”

Armand snorted derisively. “Trust me,
chérie
, you have no clue what you're getting yourself into. I've seen what the
Invitus
are capable of doing. I know what I'm talking about. I was here the last time Conrad lost control. And
he
—” he scowled once more at Christian, “—should not be involving you in whatever game he's playing.”

“I can decide for myself what I want to be involved in. Or not involved in either, for that matter.”

Armand glared. “It's not a question of what you
want
, you silly girl. It's a matter of being smart enough to recognize what's likely to happen to you if you choose this course.”