Crimson Death Page 87

“Most people wouldn’t think that about him,” Damian said.

“I’m in his head. I know what he’s attracted to most. He likes men—don’t get me wrong—but not to the degree he’s demonstrated to keep me happy. It just seemed fair to try to bring in women who would be more into all my lovers and not just me.”

“You have that with Dev, too,” Damian said.

Nathaniel grinned. “He’s as bi as I am.”

“But a lot more vanilla,” I said.

“Rocky road, maybe.”

I nodded. “I’ll give you that.”

“It’s like I’m horrified by what we did, but not. It’s almost as if I think I should be upset, but I’m not as upset as I . . . Why aren’t I more upset?”

“I think Nathaniel was driving our little threesome and he has no conflicts about what happened.”

“He’s shared that with us?” Damian asked.

“Maybe.”

“I remember both your eyes glowing.”

“I remember your eyes like green fire.”

“I wanted to be desired the way that you and Nathaniel want each other. I remember thinking that.”

“I heard you think it, and I gave you what you were wishing for,” Nathaniel said.

“Our flavor of Jean-Claude’s bloodline gives a person their heart’s desire,” I said.

“I wanted to be desired the way the two of you are about each other, so the two of you desired me together.”

“Something like that,” I said.

“Yes,” Nathaniel said.

“Now what?” Damian asked.

“If you aren’t mad at me, I’d really like a hug,” Nathaniel said.

Damian smiled. “I’m not mad. Part of me thinks I should be, but most of me is just happy for anyone to want me. I think that was the hardest part of being gone from She-Who-Made-Me. She was a sadistic bitch and she tortured me, but she wanted me the way a woman wants a man. She made me feel desired more than anyone ever had before in a sick, twisted, and totally serial killer way, but she told me I was her favorite toy and I believed her. I think she only let me go to Jean-Claude because she was finally growing bored with me. I think she was worried she would finally destroy me and . . . part of her didn’t want to do that.”

“Are you saying she let Jean-Claude bargain you away from her because she cared for you and was worried she’d finally hurt you permanently?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, and it was almost a whisper. “I was so glad to be free of her, but I’ve never had anyone desire me so much. That sounds so sick, doesn’t it?”

“It sounds a little like Stockholm syndrome,” I said.

“I understand,” Nathaniel said. “When I was on the streets and selling myself, I thought being desired was the same thing as love. I know that’s not true now, but if someone doesn’t desire me, then I don’t feel loved.”

Damian nodded. “Yes, yes. Cardinale loved me, but after a few months, she didn’t desire me in bed anymore, or if she did it was full of questions about who I was fantasizing about. Was I thinking about that one customer I’d danced with, or the one I’d taken blood from? It felt like she didn’t want me so much as she didn’t want anyone else to have me. But even her level of obsession with me wasn’t close to the obsession of She-Who-Made-Me when she was with me.”

“Everyone wants to be wanted,” Nathaniel said.

“Just not always in the same way,” I said.

“I just want to be desired without being tortured at the same time.”

His hand was still clutching the towel around his waist, but the towel had slid down one side to expose more of his hip than he probably wanted.

“Would it help for me to say that part of me wishes you’d drop the towel?”

“You want to see me naked?” he said, smiling and trying to make a joke of it.

“Yes,” I said.

“Yes,” Nathaniel echoed.

Damian looked from one to the other of us.

“You really do need to start being more specific about which of us you’re talking to,” I said.

Damian laughed. “I guess I do. I’m not sure how I feel about all this, but with everything I’ve just remembered, what the hell?” He let the towel fall to the floor and stood there pale and perfect with the only splashes of color against the pure white of his skin being the searing crimson of his hair and the grass green of his eyes. He lowered his gaze as if he couldn’t look at us while he stood there nude.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I said.

He looked up then and smiled. “You’ve never told me that before.”

“If I haven’t, then I’m a fool.”

Damian looked at the other man in the room and said, “What do you have to say for yourself, Nathaniel?”

He gave a nervous laugh and said, “I think what I want to say wouldn’t make you happy with me, and this is going way better than I thought it would, so let me admire the view and not say much.”

“Say what you’re thinking.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “No.”

“Please.”

He sighed and glanced at me. “Is this a trap, like a girl trap, but a guy version?”

“I don’t know.”

He looked back at Damian. “Okay, but if this gets me in trouble I won’t be this honest again.”