'You've never seen a woman dance as she does. And she'd bought that property by herself—an unmarried woman in her twenties.' Even to himself, his tone sounded impressed.
'Chains, drugs, and brute force couldn't control Conrad,' Nikolai began in an amused tone, 'but a tiny ballerina is domesticating him with ease.'
'What are you going to do about her mortality?' Sebastian asked.
'Search for a way to make her immortal.' When they gave him uneasy expressions, Conrad said, 'I know the odds, but that's a more likely scenario than me following wherever she would go after death.' Conrad finished his drink, then contemplated the bottom of his glass. 'Do you not think of our sisters when you're here?'
Nikolai and Sebastian shared a speaking glance.
At length, Nikolai said, 'We're bringing them back. We have the means to retrieve them from the past. Not to change history, but just to return with them to this time.'
Conrad narrowed his gaze. Was Nikolai jesting? 'How?'
With utmost seriousness, Sebastian answered, 'A mystic's key.'
Conrad flinched at the word key.
Sebastian topped off their drinks. 'A goddess named Riora gave me one turn of it for the sole purpose of reuniting my family. I know for a fact that it works.'
If skeptical Sebastian said it worked, then it did. 'And you'd thought of returning my past self as well?'
'Yes, the offer still stands,' Nikolai said. 'Think of it, we could clear your eyes of the blood completely. And take away all the memories that plague you.'
'And what would happen to my present self?'
'You'd fade,' Sebastian said.
'I knew you'd had an ace up your sleeve.' No wonder his brothers had been so confident about Conrad's recovery. 'But I'm not interested.'
Nikolai steepled his fingers. 'You wouldn't want to be human again?'
Sebastian added, 'No more red eyes, no more blood drinking.'
Conrad shook his head. 'And no more strength to protect Néomi. I need it to keep her safe. If history wouldn't be changed, then I'd still have the same enemies after me—and now her.' Conrad drained his glass, hating this reality of their lives. 'Why didn't you just do it? Why go through all the trouble of capturing me?' Especially when he'd been spitting blood at them and trying to murder them.
'We wanted you to get stable enough to make the choice,' Nikolai answered. 'We would've been taking away your immortality. And you would have lost your own memories from the last three hundred years as well. It was a major decision.' In a lower tone, Nikolai said, 'I didn't want to make the same mistake twice.'
'There was no first mistake,' Conrad said firmly. 'You made a fated decision, and I'm in your debt.'
'Good. Then you won't mind helping us raise the girls.'
Christ, their sisters actually would live again. He'd get a second chance to know them better. Hell, Néomi could teach them to dance. He grinned, shocking his brothers. 'When do we go back for them?'
'Once Murdoch returns, we plan.'
Conrad opened his mouth to speak, then froze. Something's wrong. A chill slithered up his spine. 'I'll return,' he said, immediately tracing back to Elancourt.
Straight into fire.
44
Néomi had been dreaming of floating and walking through walls again. But now she wanted to wake because her breaths had begun to taste of... soot?
She couldn't seem to get enough air, coughing with each smoky inhalation. And in the haze of her mind, she perceived fire all around her, thought she smelled the flames and felt their heat.
A fire! Why can't I wake?
Feeling so dizzy... she needed clean air... .
At last, she was able to crack open her eyelids. She blinked them in disbelief.
The room was choked with thick smoke. Flames licked the walls and crawled across the bowing ceiling. The boards above her whined under the strain.
'Néomi!'
Conrad! He was here? Through the flames between them, their gazes met—just before a beam snapped and a portion of the ceiling collapsed in front of him.
With a yell, he lunged for her to trace her away, but returned to the same spot empty-handed, as if his arms had wrapped around only air. When he failed at it a second time, he dived into the fire, tearing away the blazing timbers to reach her.
Why did he look so stricken? She wasn't hurt—hadn't even a scratch. In fact, she felt nothing. No perception. Dim.
Then she glanced down. No, no, no... Her body from her waist down was buried under the burning wreckage from the ceiling. It should be crushing her. Why am I still conscious? Where was the pain?
Then she realized...
I died... again?
Néomi was in her incorporeal form once more, wearing her old black dress and jewerly—
A thunderous rending above her drew her gaze. With the ceiling gone, she could see that the roof was sagging in pockets. The enormous rafters began to snap, one by one. Jagged wood hurtled down like spears, hammering into the floor.
Still grappling to get to her, he dodged them.
'Conrad! No!'
One caught him, stabbing into his body, slamming him down. A split second later, the roof crashed over him, shrouding him. With a shriek, she found herself rising through the debris covering her, floating admist the fire to get to him.
She couldn't find him, couldn't see! Then... she spied blood pooling out from under a pile of debris, the liquid reflecting the flames, boiling and popping.
Tonight Cade found himself in a familiar spot—sitting on the edge of a downtown apartment's roof. His female's building neighbored this one, and her top loft and private rooftop pool were readily viewable from this higher vantage.
Cade hadn't intended to come here tonight. He'd just needed to.
He gazed over at her balcony. And there she was.
Holly Ashwin.
His Holly. She was a math geek who wore glasses, no makeup, and her blond hair in a conservative bun; she was sexier than any female he'd ever known.
But as ever, he scratched his head at her antics. She was cleaning an already spotless apartment. Mystifying human.
She'd expire if she saw his place. Just another example of how unalike she and Cade were.
Holly was scholarly—he was deadly. Every aspect of her life was strictly organized. His idea of a day's schedule was wake, eat a few meals, do things, sleep. And any of those were optional.
She didn't even drink. He took a swig just then.
Was she having company over tonight? Her tosser boyfriend? Just as his claws dug into his palms, Cade heard footsteps approaching.
Bloody Rydstrom. His brother had found him. So much for keeping my visits secret.
'What in the hell are you doing up here?' Cade demanded.
'I ask you the same,' Rydstrom said, treating him to a look of unmitigated disappointment.
I've never seen that one before.
'You told me you wouldn't come here anymore.'
'Fell off the wagon,' Cade muttered.
