Summoning Sebastian (9 page)

Chapter Nine

“T
here's nothing magical about being a vampire. It's a pain in the ass, but there you go. Now could we just fucking talk about hockey?”
—Travis Payne, right wing, Chicago Cobras

“L
ater,” though, turned out to be largely hypothetical. And not just because I don't own any thumbscrews. Colin came back with our coffee, then he and Roland bent over her computer, poking around online looking for vampire-safe flights from Denver to Moscow. I didn't want to think about it, so I stepped out onto the balcony for some air.

It was a nice balcony, facing west, with a beautiful nighttime view of Denver. Lights sparkled from the city down into the suburbs and then the foothills. After that was a stretch of mostly darkness, then the moon hanging over the mountains. Their jagged outlines were barely visible in the wash of moonlight. There wasn't much in the way of light pollution up that way to define the peaks. The light reflected off the snow, though, giving bright caps to Longs Peak, Mount Evans, and a few others I didn't know the names of. If I craned my neck to the left, I could make out Pike's Peak in the distance, although that might have been my imagination.

It was quiet out here too, away from the mumbling going on between Colin and Roland. I let my brain drift, trying not to think about anything. There was far too much to think about, after all—my poor neurons could use a break.

Disconnecting mentally from everything wasn't exactly an easy task, though. Thoughts ping-ponged around inside my head, bouncing off my skull. I tried to swat them back, but they were persistent little buggers.

Then my front pocket vibrated. I jumped, then was immediately glad I'd turned off the ringtone. Phones and I don't get along very well. I'm too jumpy.

I pulled the phone out and glanced at the Caller ID. It was a conglomeration of numbers that not only didn't look familiar but didn't look much like a phone number. Curious, I answered. Who would be calling me at this time of night?

“Hello?”

“Nimuë!” I closed my eyes and shook my head. I should have known.

“Um, hi, Dad. What's up?”

“I hear you're coming out this way.”

Good lord. What kind of communications network did he have that he knew this already? This also explained the middle-of-the-night call, since it was daytime there. At least I thought it was. I wasn't sure what the time difference was, but I was pretty sure Siberia was ahead of Colorado.

Then it occurred to me—he didn't need a new-fangled communications system. He had my sister.

“Well, yeah, it looks that way.” No point avoiding the inevitable.

“Business or pleasure?”

“Neither? Both?”
Please, God, don't ask me for details
.

“Well, whatever it is, we'll be happy to have you. We don't have a huge amount of room, but we'll squeeze you in.”

So we'd be staying with my parents too. I should have seen that coming. Oh well. I hadn't seen them in ages. Part of me was actually happy about that arrangement. “We appreciate that.”

“We?”

Ah, here we go. He was fishing for information. At this point, I was pretty sure my mom had put him up to it. She'd never been crazy about talking on the phone. “My boyfriend's coming with us.”

“Oh?” There was a slight pause. “Is this the vampire boyfriend?”

Uh-oh. Where was he going? “Yes.”

Another pause. “Okay.” This time it sounded like maybe he was writing something down. “We'll have to see about making accommodations for him, then.”

I puffed out a silent breath. No interrogations about said vampire boyfriend. Not yet, anyway. Thank God. “That'd be really appreciated. Thanks.”

“Well, I wouldn't want your boyfriend catching on fire. That would be awkward.”

I chuckled. “Very awkward.”

“Do you know when you're coming in?”

“Not yet. Colin's working on arrangements.” I looked back through the glass balcony door where the Colin in question was already looking back at me. He twitched an eyebrow. I had a sudden, evil idea. “Maybe you should talk to him?”

“Sure. Put him on.”

“Hang on.”

I pushed the balcony door back open. It was a little sticky, probably because of the safety baffling that went into effect at sunrise. Colin's other eyebrow rose as I headed into the hotel room, phone in one hand.

“Hey,” I said to him. “My dad wants to talk to you.”

The expression on Colin's face was priceless. He looked like I'd just told him I needed him to go out in the sunlight to get me a macchiato. I laughed outright, holding the phone to him. He swallowed audibly and took it.

“Hello?” The word was almost hesitant. “Yes. Yes, Mr. Taylor. Nice to meet you too.”

He stood and walked into a corner then, turning his back to us. Roland and I shared an amused look. I took a seat and waited for Colin to give my phone back.

When he did, my dad was still on the line. “He doesn't sound like a vampire,” was the first thing he said to me.

“Oh, really? What do vampires sound like?”

“I don't know…Eastern European?”

“He's French.” I paused, frowning. “I think.”

“He doesn't sound French.”

I rolled my eyes, glancing at Colin, who was staring at me like I was wrestling alligators or doing some other crazed thing he wouldn't have done if I'd paid him or laid him. “He's a jillion years old, Dad. He's had time to work on his accent.”

“Well. We'll look forward to meeting him. And I'll get in touch as soon as I can with information on those documents you'll need.”

“Thanks, Dad. Colin's looking forward to meeting you, too.” A blatant lie, I could tell. “We'll keep in touch.”

“Yep. Talk to you later, hon.”

There was a vague click as Dad hung up. I slid my phone back into my pocket.

“This is going to be…interesting,” Colin ventured.

“That it is, my dear,” I confirmed. “That it is.”

We
headed home not long after. It was nice to get home with a bit of time to get ready for bed before the sun came up for a change. I'd gotten tired of having Colin tearing up the stairs to the bedroom trying to hit the mattress before he collapsed. I knew he could stay awake during the day if he wanted to, but it wasn't good for him. And I couldn't help but think crashing so hard and so fast without even time to pull on some jammies had to be bad for his health.

In any case, we at least had time to stretch out and get comfortable, and Colin took a few minutes to snuggle before he conked out. I laid my head on his non-breathing chest and wondered why nothing in my life could ever be simple.

I wasn't really thinking of Sebastian when I woke the next evening. Not in any concrete way, at least. I wasn't really thinking of much of anything, truth to tell. I woke curled up next to Colin, who was sprawled on his back. I'd positioned myself so his arm was under my neck and shoulders, as if he were holding me. He wasn't, really. I'd just rolled toward him in my sleep, probably pulled his arm around me like I would have tucked myself under a blanket.

I'm not sure why I curled up to him. He's not warm, so it wasn't that. Maybe I just wanted to feel him stretched out against me, the firm outline of his body. He was big and comforting. When I felt unsafe, it was nice to have that bulk somewhere close.

The room had gone dark. Only a vague smear of light peeked in under the door from the nightlight in the hallway. I'd supplied it for myself, since Colin didn't care if his entire house was pitch black. I lay there for a time, my head pillowed on Colin's chest, one hand splayed across the pebbled landscape of his abs. I might have drooled on him a little. By accident, of course.

I still wasn't used to the silence of him. No heartbeat, no breathing. I hadn't dated much before Colin, but I remembered cuddling with an ex a few years ago, lying with him much like I was lying with Colin now. Listening to the slow, even thud of his heart, the tide-like rise and fall of his breath as it moved in and out of his body. Then there was the warmth radiating from him, the musky smell of a sleep-covered man.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss that. It was strange to lie with my head on a silent chest that exuded little body heat to speak of. The smell was different too—a spicy scent mixed with undertones of copper. An odd smell. No more or less unpleasant than human man-musk—which could, in all honesty, get pretty rank—just different.

He started to move as I lay there ruminating. I stroked a hand over the contours of his torso. His nipple rose under my palm as I slid my hand over his pectoral. The taut skin of his abdomen shivered vaguely.

This was something else I'd missed, I realized—the spontaneity of waking up and touching him just to see what might happen. So much of our life as a couple had revolved around Sebastian, especially over the last several weeks, since our quest to bring him back had gotten serious. We'd started scheduling things, planning when we'd get together to try to communicate with our third party. I thought I'd gotten a vague idea of what it must be like for couples trying to have a baby, planning every encounter around the ovulation cycle. Except we were trying to give birth to Sebastian, and that was where the whole comparison got weird.

I pushed the musings aside, not wanting my brain to ruin the moment when it was developing with some promise. I soaked in the smooth textures of Colin's skin with my fingertips. When he wasn't quite awake—well, when he was still technically dead—his skin felt like marble, cool, and with that almost soft feel to it that makes marble seem sometimes like it could start to breathe at any moment.

He'd just passed that stage, as far as his waking process, but his belly was still cool and firm under my fingers. I soaked up the feeling, let my response build until I could feel the heat and the dampness between my legs. He was going to get jumped when he woke up, that was for sure. I was pretty sure he wouldn't mind.

It didn't take long for him to ease into consciousness. He woke dick-first, like most men, his erection prodding the back of my hand as I continued to explore his lower belly. Finally his upper body returned to consciousness, and one arm rose to wrap around me, pulling me against him. He touched my face with his lips, almost like he was trying to kiss me, but missed.

It made me smile, and I was still smiling when his mouth finally found mine. His lips curved, finding mine curved beneath them.

“Hi,” he said without breaking the kiss.

“Hi,” I replied and wrapped a hand around his cock because I wasn't really interested in talking.

His whole body twitched at the contact. I laughed into his mouth, not sure why I was so happy. Suddenly he rolled on top of me, pinning my wrists to the bed.

“Stop laughing at me.” The look he gave me was thunderous, angry, even threatening, but his mouth twitched into a half grin before he could get it under control.

“I'm not laughing at you,” I said. “I'm just laughing. Is that okay?”

His anger, which had been pure theatrics anyway, collapsed into a gentle smile. “It's fine. It's more than fine. It's been a while since I've seen you look really happy.”

My own smile quieted. I would have touched his face if my hands had been free. Instead, I turned my head to the side, baring my neck to him. The temptation was too much; he nipped it.

“Take me,” I told him. “Just pin me down and have your nasty vampire way with me.”

“Are you sure that's what you want? You're not, I don't know, hungry or anything?”

Oh, so he was going to be that way. Pretending to watch out for my well-being when he was really just delaying my gratification. Of course, he licked my neck while he talked, which didn't hurt anything. He shifted upward to nibble at my jawline—well, it was a little closer to a bite than a nibble, but I didn't think he was going to leave any marks, not that I'd mind if he did. He nibbled and sucked and bit down my jaw to my shoulder, along my collarbone, down to my breasts. His teeth on my nipples were just the right side of uncomfortable. And all the time, his hard cock prodded against me until I started to wonder if I should ask if he remembered where it went.

Then he slid both hands down my back, aligning my body under his, sank between my thighs and then inside.

I don't know what it is about Colin—the size, the shape, the length, the width, the temperature, the rhythm—not a clue, but when he sets his mind to it, which is every time, honestly—Every Single Time—he can turn me into a quivering pile of quivering messy quiver before I can barely draw a breath. The sensation isn't even describable. It's just…glorious. Addictive.

I hadn't fallen into it this way in a long time. Hadn't been able to let go enough, relax enough, with everything else that had been going on. This time there was nothing to hold me back. My brain had gone wonderfully empty, so I had nothing in it but the feeling of Colin's mouth on me, his hands on my skin, his dick filling every inch of me, stroking, pressing. I clenched on him, answered his rhythm, smiled a little in pride and satisfaction as a small gasp came from him. Then he locked eyes with me and, sooner than I'd expected him to, emptied with a slow, guttural groan.

I grabbed the hair at the back of his neck, holding him in place while I ground against him. I knew he wouldn't leave me in the lurch, but suddenly it became vital to me that I come with him still inside me, lock myself to him in that flare of climax.

Somewhat to my own surprise, I did, pounding hard on his dick, which was still hard enough I could feel it wall-to-wall inside me. The orgasm washed up, flooded my head, and I bit into his shoulder to keep from howling.

“Don't.”

Way too late to be giving me orders, I thought on another pulsating wave, and then I realized the voice hadn't been Colin's. My eyes snapped open. At the same time, I clasped Colin with my thighs. I had a few more waves to ride, and I was determined not to miss any of them.