Now Comes the Night Read Online Free PDF Page B

like this to ask again for permission to divulge to the twins the details of their heritage, so that was not a worry. And, happily, he was even more certain Damian wasn’t about to ask him to let him go. So, really, what could he possibly want that Conrad would not be happy to oblige him in? Other than host another party. And, again, they’d only just had the last one a few weeks earlier, so it could hardly be that.
    “I was hoping we could throw another party.”
    Or, then again, perhaps it could. Conrad groaned. “Why? You know how I hate them.” He gazed wearily at his lover, already resigned to the tiresome conversation he knew was about to ensue. “What’s the occasion this time?” The last party Damian had talked him into giving had been for the twins’ birthday. They were still only celebrating that once a year, weren’t they?
    Once upon a time, Conrad would not have been nearly as repulsed by the prospect. During the sixties, for example, he’d thrown parties nearly every week, although that had been an entirely different matter. For one thing, those had occurred while Armand had been in charge of running the household. Armand was nowhere near as stern a taskmaster as Damian. He’d never once insisted that Conrad need actually attend one of his own parties if he didn’t wish to do so. Of course, Armand had rarely ever “insisted” that Conrad do anything. He had other methods of coercion at his disposal, other means of making his point and getting his way. Sometimes, Conrad rather missed those.
    In addition, those earlier parties had been utilitarian, a necessity. His children had needed a safe place in which to feed and, at the time, there had been very few other options open to them. Now there were the clubs that he and the other Heads of Households had instituted for their use. Or, for those who chose to stay closer to home, like Conrad himself for the most part, there was his excessively accommodating and very conveniently located household staff.
    Damian propped himself up on his elbows. “I’m concerned, Conrad. We need to do something about the children. I thought a party would give them something to look forward to, maybe help them to socialize. Marc has stopped going to the clubs altogether, it seems. He now spends all his time brooding in that…in that place. The warehouse where…” Damian’s expression was bleak as he broke off, gesturing with a wave of his hand. “Well, you know.”
    Conrad nodded sympathetically. The warehouse where Marc had been imprisoned and mutilated—yes, he knew. He, too, felt guilt over the fact he had not been able to prevent Marc’s injury and sorrow over the pain it had caused him. What he did not feel was grief. That was an emotion Conrad preferred to reserve for more serious tragedies. The life of a vampire was long and as such, it was bound to be filled with many small losses. If you grieved for all of them your tears would never dry. But that was a lesson best learned while one was still young.
    He reached over and gently squeezed Damian’s hand. “I know you worry about the children. I do too. But the boy only just lost his eye a few weeks ago, my dear. It’s only natural that he would need some time to adjust to his condition. Perhaps he feels self-conscious and does not wish to socialize yet. Why should we force him to do so? Let him brood for a while longer, if that’s what he needs. I’m sure it won’t last forever.”
    “I just think it would be better for him if he didn’t spend every night with no one for company but those ferals he’s adopted. Frankly, I’m not sure how he stands it. What is he even doing with them?”
    “I admit, it does seem a bit perplexing.” Conrad had never been bothered by the ferals, no Lamia Invitus ever was. Most other vampires found feral vampires—those who were without nests or sires of their own—intensely aggravating. Usually, after spending no more than a few minutes in their presence they were