“Who?” I asked.

“I do not know, but I know that I do not wish to rule the world. America is enough for me.”

“Have we let the monsters loose in Ireland, Jean-Claude?”

“Let us ask the Harlequin that we trust most. If there is a secret to Ireland’s vampire past, they will know it.”

“Who do we ask first?”

“Magda,” Nathaniel said.

We looked at him.

“She’s one of our lovers and she’s so blunt, it’s painful. If there’s something she knows, she’ll share it. If we ask her without Giacomo at her side.”

“Are you saying she would obey her vampire master before her vampire king?” Jean-Claude asked.

“Let’s not make her choose,” Nathaniel said. “Let’s just ask her now while she’s awake and her master is still dead to the world.”

“You are growing craftier, mon minet.”

“I had to get smarter sometime,” he said.

“No, sadly, some people live for centuries and never become wiser.”

I was pretty sure we were all thinking about the same person, but none of us said his name. Asher had been Jean-Claude’s on-again, off-again love of his afterlife for centuries. They’d loved and lost the same woman, Asher’s human servant Julianna, and neither of them had stopped mourning her. They say love heals all wounds, but if Jean-Claude and Asher were any judge, maybe not. Asher’s jealousy issues had led him to make some seriously bad political choices that had almost started a war here in St. Louis between us and the local werehyenas. That final stupidity had been enough even for Jean-Claude and all of us to dump him. Asher, our golden-haired and sadistic beauty, was now trying to be monogamous with the one lover he had left, Kane. None of us liked Kane, and he returned the sentiment. We all missed parts of Asher when he was behaving himself, but none of us missed those parts enough to forgive this last near-disastrous choice. A war among the preternatural set here in St. Louis just as Jean-Claude was being the very public face for vampires as good citizens could have lost the vampires so much, like the new voting rights that grandfathered in all vampires regardless of how long they’d been dead. Less than fifteen years ago a vampire could be killed on sight just for being a vampire, no questions asked. There were still laws in some Western states that allowed lycanthropes to be killed like varmint coyotes, or rats. You could kill someone and as long as their blood tests came back positive for lycanthropy you were justified. One of the things that the Coalition was trying to get changed was laws like that. We were so not free and clear in this country, or anywhere in the world. Asher had risked so much more than just us when he’d made his last bad decisions. In the end, that level of carelessness was what we couldn’t forgive.

Nathaniel sighed. “I’ll admit it, if neither of you will.”

“Admit what?” I asked.

“I miss Asher topping me in the dungeon. I even miss sex with him.”

“If I did not miss sex with mon chardonneret, my goldfinch, I would have been done with him centuries sooner.”

“Fine, fine. I miss him in the bedroom and the dungeon.”

“What we miss is that we can’t find anyone else who tops us like he does,” Nathaniel said.

Since I was still working through my issues about the whole bondage and submission being an ongoing part of my sexuality, I wasn’t sure what to say to that.

“The only one I have ever known as talented with such things as Asher is Belle Morte,” Jean-Claude said.

“I know she tried to contact you and come here after the vampire council fell and she had to flee France,” I said.

“She seemed most confused that I would not allow her sanctuary in my lands.”

“She thought you’d take her back,” Nathaniel said.

“She offered that the three of us could be together as of old.”

“You, Asher, and her?” Nathaniel asked.

“Yes.” He looked out into the room, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t seeing anything in front of him.

I moved to make sure I blocked his line of sight. He looked up at me; his blue eyes looked as black as his hair and the robe he was wearing in the dim light, so that only the paleness of his face and that triangle of chest relieved the darkness of him.

I held my hand down and he took it lightly with just his long, slender fingers. “I never asked you at the time: were you tempted?”

His lips moved, and it wasn’t quite a smile, more like he thought about smiling. “What she offered was a lie, ma petite, as it was always a lie.”

“You and Asher were her main boys for centuries.”

“We were her favorite pawns, or perhaps tools. Yes, we were her favorite tools, or weapons to be aimed at whoever she wished us to seduce, or embarrass, or help her manipulate for her schemes. Belle almost ruled all of Europe once, the true power behind many thrones. The two of us helped her seduce a great deal of the nobility, church officials, anyone in a position of power that she wished to control.”

“I’ve been inside your head when you have memories of those days, Jean-Claude; you loved her. You were in love with her.”

“I was, but she was never in love with me, or Asher. If she was ever able to love anyone, it was not us.”

“So you weren’t tempted?”

“For a moment, perhaps, but it is like being tempted by a dream. It is not real.”

“But while you’re dreaming it, it can feel real,” I said.