Sunrise(Pact Arcanum 2) (16 page)

“Space travel? Seriously?” Sike crooked one eyebrow in disbelief.

Ana laughed. “Oh, yeah. Vampires are immune to hard vacuum, which really gives us an advantage in space construction. Sometime, maybe I’ll show you the view from the Citadel, our major spaceport. The Colonies can wait for another day.”

Sike watched her uncertainly. “I can’t tell whether you’re joking or I’m being incredibly gullible.”

“Trust me, Sike, the success we’ve had took us all by surprise. We’ve been waiting for the Court of Shadows to attack us for years. We didn’t breathe easy until we completed the perimeter ward around the entire coast of North America. Now, no one with even a hint of magic can cross into our territory unless we allow it. In the meantime, all major disputes are settled by the Triumvirate: the leaders of each race. Any breach of the Armistice is met with extreme force from our police force—Armistice Security. It’s not usually necessary to kill each other anymore, although there is the odd bad apple, as you saw tonight. The younger vamps and new Sentinels are supposed to be kept on a tight leash until they master control.”

Sike sipped at his tea as he watched her. “So you’re a policewoman in addition to being a solo singer. That doesn’t seem like it leaves you a lot of free time.”

She smiled. “Not much, no, but enough to get by. Being a soloist is my dream come true, but my work at Armistice Security is making a difference to millions of people, who otherwise have no idea their lives are in danger. I can live with the demands on my life to have that kind of impact, even if no one ever hears about it.”

“It sounds lonely.” Sike poured himself another cup of tea and studiously avoided her gaze.

“I suppose it is.” Ana frowned. “Like you said, I don’t have a lot of free time.”

Putting down the spoon he was using to stir his tea, Sike took a deep breath and looked directly into her eyes. “Ana, I was wondering … if you can fit it in … I have an exhibition of some of my artistic work in Santa Fe two weeks from now.” He reached into his shirt pocket and slid a printed slip of paper across the table to her. “I would be honored if you’d be able to stop by as my guest.” He swallowed nervously. “I’d understand if your schedule is too tight.”

Ana looked at the ticket. It specifically listed Sike Kayani as the headliner of the exhibition. “Is this a professional courtesy for saving your life, or are you asking me on a date?”

Sike picked up the teaspoon and fiddled with his tea, avoiding eye contact again. “I was going to invite you tonight anyway. Saving my life was just an added bonus.”

She extended a tendril of thought to him.
“I suppose I could make time.”

He smiled as he answered silently.
“Then I hope I’ll see you there.”

CHAPTER 21

December 2032; New York City

Nick worked the crowd at the Christmas party, shaking hands and giving shout-outs to everyone he knew. The Journeymen were on top of the world; everyone wanted to be his friend. Scott had already left, but Nick was still searching for someone to take home for the night.
The perks of fame
, he thought with a smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he picked out a flash of red hair and grinned. He’d always liked redheads, ever since Rory had turned him down way back on his first tour.

The One That Got Away had become an enjoyable obsession with him. He’d followed Nightfall’s meteoric rise to fame and had been shocked by their sudden disappearance from the music scene. The others had stayed in the business, but Rory had largely disappeared from the public eye, only showing up at some of the late-night awards shows. Nick scanned the crowd, trying to pick out the person who had reminded him of … 
Holy shit. It can’t be.

It was definitely him. Nick took in Rory’s tailored black suit over a black silk shirt with a band collar, and the simple silver cross that hung around his neck. He tracked the familiar face through the party, noting the older man’s apparent boredom.
Damn, Rory, you still aren’t any good at keeping your thoughts hidden. What are you doing here?

Suddenly, a plan leapt into his head, fully formed.
Time to land the One That Got Away. I’m not seventeen this time. This time, you’re mine.

He pushed through the crowd to the musician’s side and tapped Rory on the shoulder.

“Rory?” he said loudly, feigning surprise. “I thought that was you!” He laughed at Rory’s obvious shock. “It’s been ages. How are you doing?”

“Hey, Nick,” answered Rory, off balance. “I’m doing all right. You?”

God, his voice is just as I remembered it
, thought Nick.
Why the hell did he get out of the business with a voice like that? Mine. He has to be mine tonight.
Nick made small talk—musical projects he’d been involved in since the last time they met. Rory met Nick’s eyes gravely, acknowledging his every word without any of the false enthusiasm or hidden disdain Nick had come to expect from fellow performers.
Everyone wants a piece of me, these days. But not you. You’ve been where I am, and you don’t want anything more from me than a pleasant conversation.
Nick could tell Rory was speaking to him only because he wanted to, not because of some hidden agenda.
Well, I’m going to make you want something more.
Still talking, he allowed his fingertips to brush against Rory’s wrist for a moment, touching him above the black leather gloves that the other man always wore in public these days.

Rory’s gaze locked on Nick’s, and Nick swore he could see the other man’s eyes darken as they bored into his own. Taken aback at the change in Rory’s demeanor, Nick was too elated to question it, especially when Rory’s bare fingertips squeezed his hand back.
Okay, enough foreplay. Time to close the deal.

“Well, it looks like the party’s winding down. I have a room in the hotel upstairs. You want to come up and chat?” Nick asked, for a moment certain that Rory was going to turn him down again.

Rory shrugged. “Sure, that would be great.”

Nick couldn’t believe his luck and quickly led Rory upstairs.
Thank God I turned down Scott’s offer to go for a two-bedroom suite. No way am I going to get laid with my bandmate right next door.
Nick let them into his room and gestured to the two facing couches. Rory took a seat while the younger musician grabbed a bottle of Scotch and a couple of glasses from the small kitchen. Pouring two generous shots, Nick then placed the drinks on the coffee table and settled into the couch across from Rory. “So, Rory, are you still taken?”

Rory considered the question, his gaze fixed on Nick. “No.”

“His loss.” Nick smirked. “Or was it
her
loss?”

“His.” Rory took a sip of whiskey. “I let him go.”

“Really?” One of Nick’s eyebrows shot upward. “Why?”

“He deserved better.” Rory swirled the amber fluid in his glass. “It was the right thing to do. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind. I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much.”

The absurdity of what he was attempting suddenly crashed into Nick’s thoughts, reminding him how pointless, how tawdry his life had become since he’d consciously given up on Scott. He hunched forward over his drink. “Yeah, you never do,” he said bitterly.

Rory put down his glass and clasped Nick’s hands. “You, too?”

Nick felt the warm, soft leather of Rory’s gloves against his skin. For a long moment, he debated internally, wondering whether to answer. Finally, he decided to be honest.
Fuck it. If Rory wanted to run off to the newspapers, then let him. Maybe it would solve a few problems.
“I have no right to feel like this. He was never mine. I always knew he was straight, that he wanted the wife and kids, the whole white picket fence. So I never told him.”

Nick slumped in his seat, unable to face the understanding in the other man’s eyes. “I hid it from him every second of every day. I didn’t want him to feel guilty about not loving me back.” Drawing his hands away from Rory’s, he continued, “It was the right decision. I know it was. But when I see him with her, when I see how happy he is, I just want to die.” He blinked back tears. “I never thought it would hurt this much either.”

Rory met his gaze, his sympathy so intense Nick could feel it in his soul. “Who was it?” he whispered.

Nick smiled crookedly. “You first.”

“Take.”

Nick paused. “Scott.” He looked at Rory uncertainly. “I never told anyone before.”

“I’m honored.” He took Nick’s hand again and gently stroked it with his thumb. “It can be our secret, if you like. A confidence between friends.”

Sighing, Nick hung his head. “We’re not going to fuck, are we?”

“Do you still want to?”

He shook his head. “Not right now.” Pulling his hands free, he picked up his glass again and took a sip of whiskey. “If we’re not going to have sex, you might as well tell me about Take and why you think he’s better off without you.”

“Are you going to tell me about Scott?”

Nick considered it for a moment. “A secret between friends?”

“Of course.”

Nick smiled, the despair that haunted him lifting slightly. “All right.”

Rory relaxed into the couch and sipped his drink. “I loved Takeshi for as long as I can remember, but I never had the courage to tell him how I felt.”

“That’s why you said you were ‘kind of’ taken, isn’t it?” Nick gave him a rueful half-smile. “He didn’t know, but you didn’t want me because you were all about him.”

Rory’s cheeks reddened. “You were too young anyway, Nick.”

“Are you sure?”

Rory sighed. “No, of course not. I have no idea how much experience you had at that age, but—”

“You would have been my first.” Nick stared down at his glass.

Rory blinked. “You put forward that whole campaign of seduction, and you’re telling me you were a virgin the whole time?”

Nick brought the glass to his lips and drained it. “I had already met Scott by then, and I had a vague idea he was the one I wanted to be with, but I didn’t want to be a complete klutz in bed. I thought maybe if I gave it up for you, I could get some experience.” He shrugged. “Besides, you were hot, and you listened to me when I talked. Not many people did that back then. I was grateful. Maybe we could both have come away happy.”

Rory gave him a level stare then shook his head in disbelief. “Anyway, someone told Takeshi I was interested in him. It turns out he wanted me too, but things got complicated and I decided not to risk it.”

Nick tilted his head to examine Rory more closely. “Why not?”

“I’m damaged goods, Nick.” Rory couldn’t meet his eyes. “He’s better off without me.”

“Does he know that?”

Rory took a deep breath. “He’ll get the message eventually.”

“People see what they want to see, Rory.”

Ignoring Nick’s last comment, Rory drank the rest of his whiskey, letting his eyes drift to the blocky lines of the cheap, mass-produced watercolor hanging on the wall. “So what happened with you and Scott? Are you going to tell him?”

“No.”

Rory looked knowingly at Nick. “You think he wouldn’t understand.”

Nick poured them both another drink before answering. “Scott has a fairly … traditional mindset when it comes to homosexuality. He’s a lot less open-minded than he thinks he is, but I have no intention of proving that to him.”

“He might surprise you.”

Nick shrugged and returned his gaze to his liquor. “He might not.”

“So you planned to seduce me tonight instead. Would I still have been your first?”

Nick stood and walked to the window, pulling the drapes aside to look down on the city lights. “No. Not even close.”

Rory got to his feet and followed him, laying his hands gently on Nick’s shoulders. “You gave up on him, didn’t you?” Rory asked. “He’s out of reach, so nothing else matters.”

Nick swallowed. “You must think I’m a complete slut.”

“You’re hurt, and you’re trying to find relief where you can.” Rory slipped his arms around Nick’s waist and pulled him close. “But is it really helping, or are you just taking your pain out on yourself?”

Nick leaned into his embrace. “I sometimes wish you hadn’t turned me down. I would have liked you to be first.”

“We don’t have to sleep together to be friends, Nicholas,” Rory whispered in his ear.

Nick sighed. “Rain check again?”

Rory released him. “Why don’t we talk about something else?”

Nick turned around and folded his arms as he propped his body against the window frame. “We’ve already talked about music. What do you do for fun?”

Rory dropped back onto the couch. “I paint.”

Nick cocked his head. “You never mentioned that before.”

“I learned … kind of unexpectedly. I picked it up from someone, and I turned out to be good at it.”

Nick grinned. “You have all kinds of secrets, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Nick hesitated. “I kind of like to take pictures. Just as a hobby.”

“It seems we have more in common than I thought.”

They talked until the sky beyond the windows began to lighten; then Rory scowled at the fading stars. “I ought to get going.”

Nick winced as he checked his watch. “Shit. I’m supposed to meet Scott and our backup band for breakfast in an hour.” He rose from the couch and picked up a pen and a pad of hotel stationery from the desk. Scribbling quickly on the top sheet, he tore the page out, folded it in half, and held the note out to Rory. “My private cell number,” he said. “Give me a call sometime. Maybe we can do this again.”

Rory took the note without reading it and then slipped it into his pocket before standing up. He glanced out the window again. “I’d like that, Nick. Sorry I have to leave so suddenly.”

“Early flight?”

Rory smiled. “Something like that.”

“Where do you live now, anyway?” Nick asked, unable to contain his curiosity. “There’s been almost no news coverage about you since Nightfall broke up.”

Rory’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”

“I keep abreast of the industry,” Nick answered, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to admit to following Rory’s career so closely. “You guys were on top, and then you were gone. The gossip rags say you’re all barely on speaking terms now.”