“I understand,” Damian said.

Nathaniel sighed, and said, “I want to offer you the other side of my neck so we can go down on you again until you tell us to stop, or you come, and you don’t want to go that way. You want to fuck us.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

Nathaniel nodded.

“You’d just finished licking my dick, both of you. One of you on either side like it was a Popsicle you were sharing.” His eyes fluttered shut and he shivered hard enough for certain parts of his anatomy to shake and distract the hell out of both of us.

“Wow,” I said, “I don’t know what’s changed, but da-amn.”

“What she said,” Nathaniel said.

Damian smiled. “I don’t know what’s changed either, but I like that you’re looking at me like I’m one of the best things you’ve ever seen. I’ve seen you look at each other and Micah that way, but never me.” He started walking toward us all nude and tempting.

“I hate to ruin the mood—God knows I do—but I have to get ready for a plane ride to Ireland. Edward needs my help.”

The happiness was suddenly gone from Damian’s face. He was as unreadable and distant as if he’d been turned into a marble statue, white and perfect, but not very alive. “What’s happened now?”

Nathaniel sighed. “I know you have to tell him, but I’m allowed to be disappointed.”

“Hell, I’m disappointed, but I need to get over there ASAP.”

“Tell me,” Damian said.

“Put your towel back on and I’ll be able to concentrate enough to tell you,” I said.

That made him smile again. “I like that I can distract you.”

“Towel back on so we can talk about vampires in Dublin.”

He went back for his towel and bent down to pick it up. Nathaniel and I both turned our heads as he moved so our view was as good as possible. When we caught each other doing it, we giggled like we were thirteen and had been caught looking at nude photos online.

“What’s so funny?” Damian asked.

“Just admiring the view,” I said.

“What she said,” Nathaniel said again.

Damian smiled. “I love that you both want me, and I think that means that whatever Nathaniel did to us all is still working. Even the thought that my old mistress is doing awful things back in Ireland doesn’t change that I’m happy you both want me.” He frowned.

“If you’re happy, you’re supposed to smile,” I said.

“Does it make any sense to say that I’m not sure I’m supposed to be happy about this?”

“Oh yeah, I totally get that,” I said.

“Then can you explain it to me?”

I laughed. “Sorry, Damian, but it doesn’t make sense to me when I do it either. If something makes you happy you should just enjoy it and embrace it, but I’ve got a whole list of things that make me happy and I fought like hell not to enjoy them, not to want them, not to do them, because they didn’t match who I thought I was, or who I thought I should be.”

“Are you saying, I think I shouldn’t enjoy the two of you looking at me like that, but I do, so I’m trying to make myself miserable about it, even though it actually makes me happy?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying.”

“Fuck that. Just tell me what she’s done, Anita. That should be awful enough to help us appreciate whatever happiness we can find.”

I couldn’t argue with him. I didn’t even want to. We sat down on the edge of the bed, because there weren’t enough chairs, and I told him what was happening in Dublin. He was right. It was awful, but it didn’t make us want to stop enjoying the happiness we’d just found together. It just made us sad, and then I asked him to come to Ireland with us, and that made him scared. Nathaniel didn’t want him to go either. I suggested that Pierette and Pierrot could act as our guides to the local vampires, and Damian liked that even less. He hated them both for having watched him and other vampires being tortured over the centuries but never lifting a hand to help any of them. He hated them enough to be willing to go back to Ireland and help me solve the mystery. They say love is a powerful motivator, and it is, but sometimes hatred gets the job done, too. Love or hate, I’d take the help.

22

DAMIAN PUT HIS towel back on so Nathaniel and I could focus. I called Jean-Claude to ask if I could use his private jet to fly to Ireland or if we’d have to find a commercial flight. Micah and Rafael were going to be at least a few more days on the West Coast, so, yes, the jet was free to take us to Ireland. I did a group text to Bobby Lee, Claudia, and Fredo about a need for guards who could work with the police in Ireland. Which was a polite way of saying, Avoid anyone with a criminal background. We had a few who had started life as muscle for gangsters or had juvenile records with gangs. I didn’t want that to make things in Ireland more complicated. We needed simpler, not harder. What I didn’t realize was that harder was still in the bedroom with me, and I didn’t mean that in any fun, literal way.

“I should go with you,” Nathaniel said.

Damian smiled. “I’d like that.”

I looked from one to the other of them as they sat beside me on the bed and said, “No.”

They both looked at me and said in unison, “Why not?” Since I was sitting in the middle it was like stereo.