Now Comes the Night (2 page)

“Not another sound!” he cautioned as he deposited the still-fussing babies on the nearer of the room’s two armchairs. He threw a blanket over the chair in a futile attempt to hide the infants as quickly as possible, and was surprised and relieved when they quieted instantly. Was it the security of the blanket to which they were responding, or to his authority? He had no idea and no time to even consider the matter.

He was headed for the windows at the front of the house for a quick glance outside, when a new, barely detectable sound caught his ear. A key turned quietly in the lock on the back door. In what could only be a sneak attack, someone was attempting to gain entrance to the house from the rear. Someone who would not live through this night—not if Conrad had anything to say about it!

Hurriedly regrouping, Conrad turned away from the window. He moved swiftly to counter this newest threat, stationing himself between his children and the doorway, wishing fervently that he’d thought to have a weapon handy. He hadn’t, however, so his own brute force would have to suffice.

Fortunately, his own brute strength had always been more than a match for most of his opponents. He could only hope it would prove so this time.

Footsteps approached—measured, steady, without even a pretense of stealth. Conrad readied himself. When a lone figure appeared in the doorway, Conrad was seconds away from pouncing on the intruder and ripping out his throat. His subconscious intervened at the last instant, saving him from himself. Senses he was barely aware of possessing sounded an alarm, warning him of the mistake he was about to make. He stopped himself just in time.

Damian froze, his motions arrested in the act of removing his overcoat. His brows rose, his gaze appraised Conrad, who was still struggling to regain some measure of control. “Conrad? Is everything all right? Did something happen while I was gone? You look…strange.”

Conrad, still shaking from his close call, brushed aside Damian’s questions. He had questions of his own. “Never mind how I look. That noise outside—what is it? And what are you doing, sneaking in through the back? Why did you not use the front door like always?”

“The noise?” Damian shrugged out of his coat. “Is that what’s troubling you? It’s just the New Year being rung in. I’m glad to see the children aren’t bothered by it. Where are they, by the way? How did you finally get them to sleep?”

“New Year’s. Of course.” Conrad heaved a sigh of relief and ordered his muscles to stand down from alert. How could he have overlooked something so obvious? “I wasn’t…thinking. The date must have slipped my mind.”

Damian nodded. “Sleep deprivation, I expect. I’ve been reading about it. It’s apparently quite normal for new parents. And I came in through the back simply because I thought it might be better to avoid being seen coming in at this hour by our somewhat too-inquisitive neighbors. I’m sorry if you weren’t expecting it. I certainly didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Startle me? Don’t be ridiculous,” Conrad snapped, embarrassed by the overwrought condition of his nerves. He had no excuse other than worry and guilt and, yes, fine, lack of sleep as well—that was all he was willing to admit to anyway. “You didn’t startle me. I was merely growing impatient on the children’s behalf. What took you so long? I expected you back hours ago!”

A small smile glimmered suddenly on Damian’s lips. “Yes. Again, I’m sorry. I’m afraid it could not be helped. The orderly with whom I’m used to dealing had been given the night off. Inconsiderate of him, I know, but it is a holiday, so what can you do? It took a little bit of persuading before I was finally able to convince
his replacement to give me everything I wanted. He had some…reservations that had to be overcome. I gather he generally prefers women, otherwise I’m sure I’d have been quicker.”

Conrad winced. He knew Damian hadn’t meant it, but his words carried an unintended sting. It was all Conrad could do to suppress a furious growl when graphic visions began to play in his head, images of everything Damian had likely been doing in order to bring his new orderly around to his way of thinking. Things he’d once been in the habit of doing only with Conrad.

Conrad stamped violently on his burgeoning emotions. He was not jealous, damn it. He had neither the right any longer nor any rational reason to be so. He and Damian had not been lovers for many years. What they’d had was over long ago. They’d both moved on. It was better that way, safer for them both. It would be beyond foolish for them to even think about taking up with each other again—especially now, with so much else at stake. He cleared his throat. “I see. Well, that is unfortunate. I’m sorry to hear it.”

“Oh, no, on the contrary.” Damian’s smile grew wider. “I quite enjoyed myself. It was such a novelty. I do believe I’ve given him a whole new perspective on life. In fact, I may have to make a habit of stopping by, from time to time, just to see him.”

Conrad’s jaw clenched. “Splendid.”

“It is, isn’t it? One of life’s little silver linings.” Still smiling, Damian swept past Conrad and into the living room, headed for the closer of the two armchairs. He was on the verge of tossing his coat over the back of it when he stopped, seemingly frozen in place. The coat dropped to the floor. “
¡Mis bebés!
” With a startled cry, he sprang forward and snatched the blanket off the chair. He went down on his knees and quickly gathered the infants into his arms. “Conrad, what were you thinking? Why would you leave them here, and all covered up like this! Did you want them to roll off onto the floor, where we might have stepped on them? Were you perhaps trying to suffocate them?
Que im pobre niños lo siento
,” he murmured softly to the infants
. “
Why so quiet, little ones?
Are you quite terrified? Don’t be frightened,
niños.
Your Uncle Damian is back to take care of you. Everything will be fine now.”

“Step on them?” Conrad snarled viciously, his temper evaporating into white-hot rage. “Suffocate them? You imbecile! You dare suggest I would intentionally do them harm? After everything that’s been sacrificed on their behalf? After the promise I’ve given their mother and all I’ve done to ensure their safety—since the day they were born?”

“What?” Still on his knees, Damian turned to look at Conrad. His eyes widened in alarm and he twisted, until he was seated with his back to the chair. He tightened his arms protectively around the children and he hugged them closer to his chest. “Calm yourself,
querido
. I was upset. It was merely a figure of speech. You must know I didn’t mean anything by it.” He continued for a moment longer to study Conrad warily, then his expression changed, softened, relaxed. “Are you quite all right, Conrad?” he asked, his voice gentler than before. “You seem…unusually jumpy tonight.”

That look in Damian’s eyes… What was that? Was that…pity? Conrad turned away in disgust. “
Uncle
Damian?” he repeated quizzically. “Is that what you’re calling yourself now?”

“They’ll have to call me something when they’re a little older, won’t they? I might as well begin to lay the groundwork now. And seeing as it was you who sired both their mother and me… Can
you
think of a better way of describing my relationship with them?”

“And what do you intend for them to call me?”

Damian’s eyes twinkled suddenly and Conrad could have sworn he was holding back a laugh as he answered, “Grandfather, obviously. I would have thought that went without saying.”

“
Grand
father?” Conrad stared at him. “How is that obvious? Do I look so old now?”

Damian smiled. “Not at all. You’re still as youthful looking as the day I met you. It’s simply that, again, as you
are
their mother’s sire, I judged it the simplest approach. But perhaps you had something else in mind? Was there some other way in which you planned to describe to them your relationship with their mother?”

Conrad scrubbed his hand across his face. His relationship with their mother. Yes, that was definitely not a subject he wished to discuss in any great detail with her children. Assuming they lived long enough to ask about her. “I hadn’t actually given the matter much thought.” It was all still such a long shot. “But, since you clearly have, so be it. Grandfather I shall be, should the need arise. Now, where’s the blood?” he asked, choosing to change the subject rather than continue. “I’m assuming you did eventually manage to bring some home with you?”

“Yes, of course,” Damian replied, in between murmured endearments addressed to the babes in his arms. “You didn’t really think I’d forget, did you? I got as much as I could, several bottles, the freshest they had. Hopefully it’ll be enough to tide us over for a while, but if they’re going to continue to eat at this rate, we’re going to have to reconsider our plans, not to mention seek out some new resources—and soon. I left the bag on the dining room table, if you’d be so good as to get it.”

Conrad blinked in surprise. “You expect me to get it?” There had been a time, and not that long ago, when people had waited on him, not the other way around.

Damian glanced pointedly at the infants in his arms. “Well, I do have my hands full at the moment. Unless you’d like to trade places? I don’t imagine you thought to change their diapers while I was gone, did you?”

Conrad opened his mouth and then closed it again when he could think of nothing to say. Turning, he left the room without saying another word.

It was too much. Nothing in his past had prepared him for this. How was he expected to deal with it all? Deadly threats against the twins, their imminent starvation, the possible annihilation of his entire race and his own forced absence from his nest—for who knew how long, decades at least. Now diapers too? Why, in his day, children didn’t even wear diapers. Come to think of it, they hadn’t in Damian’s day either. At least…he didn’t think they did. So how was it
he
could remember to think of all these details?

By the time Conrad returned to the living room Damian was ensconced in one of the armchairs with the twins, freshly changed, reclining peacefully in his arms. He tried not to smirk when he realized Conrad had taken the time to carefully warm the blood and transfer it into two of the baby bottles they’d purchased when they’d first moved here, several weeks earlier. From the way Conrad had first reacted to the suggestion that he retrieve the blood from the dining room, Damian hadn’t been sure what to expect. But, as always, his old friend was full of surprises.

“Here, take this.” Conrad held out one of the bottles to him. “And give me one of them.”

Damian passed him one of the babies without comment, wondering if Conrad would ask which of them he’d been given. It was the boy, but would Conrad know that? Could he tell them apart yet? Did he even care?

Conrad scrutinized the infant’s face for a moment but said nothing, merely took his seat in the empty armchair and settled the child in his arm.

Though the babies were not identical they bore enough of a resemblance that it was still difficult to tell them apart with just a glance. The boy was quieter, graver, more thoughtful, a little more overtly determined. The girl seemed to have a livelier temperament. She was quicker to laugh, quicker to cry, somewhat easier to settle, but withal, equally as strong-willed as her brother.

She waved her tiny fists in the air and mewled quietly. Her restless movements recalled Damian to the task at hand. Gently, he teased the child’s lips with the tip of the rubber nipple, watching spellbound as her little rosebud of a mouth opened and her tiny fangs extended. Her tongue lashed at the nipple, as though seeking for veins, then she latched onto the bottle and began to feed. Damian shook his head in bemusement. Instinct. It never failed to amaze him. How was it the children knew just what to do? He and Conrad were flying blind, stumbling along with almost nothing to guide their steps, but these infants—they had no doubts, no hesitation. They knew just what they needed, just how to get their own way…with at least one of the two adults in whose care they found themselves.

Damian had no idea how Conrad felt, but he himself was hopelessly smitten. Protecting the twins was second nature to him now, as natural as breathing. And all for no reason that he could easily identify. By rights, he should hate them and resent their very existence, even if they were directly responsible for his current change in station.

When he’d first realized Conrad did not intend to destroy the infants, as should have been done, Damian had been shocked and appalled. He’d been horrified by the danger Conrad was choosing to place himself in, at the danger in which he’d placed the entire nest, by his actions. His first impulse was to run as far and as fast as he could, to hide himself and wait for the inevitable storm to blow over. But Conrad had appealed to him for help and that was exactly the opportunity for which Damian had been waiting. A chance for redemption. A way to finally begin to work himself back into Conrad’s good graces—into his home, into his heart perhaps. And someday, God willing, maybe even back into his bed.

It was the first such chance that had presented itself in over one hundred years. Given how unlikely it was that Conrad would survive this foolishness, even with Damian’s help, it would also very probably be the last. So, dangerous and foolhardy or not, Damian had no choice but to jump at it, to seize the opportunity and prove to Conrad that Damian’s loyalty—and his love—was still his for the asking.

His victory was bittersweet. The situation Damian soon found himself in only served to underscore how very far he’d fallen in Conrad’s estimation, how little his loyalty, his love, or even his well-being seemed to matter anymore.