“Niall said almost the same thing.” Reading about the history you’ve lived, a lot of it is pure bollocks. Kings and politics. The things a man remembers and history forgets are home and family. That first kiss.

She straightened, still gazing at the picture. “You two are the most remarkable men I’ve ever met.”

Looking back, she found him staring at her oddly. Before she could open her mouth to apologize, he lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her palm. Her heart beat in her throat as he kept those mesmerizing eyes on her.

“I’m simply an eccentric vampire, Alanna. You are the remarkable one. Any artist would be lucky to have you as a muse.”

“You already have a muse.” Her fingers trembled under his touch. Her body had been used in every imaginable way, but whenever he did things like this, unmistakably romantic, she was as new to it as an innocent schoolgirl.

“I do?” He cocked a brow. “Is there another woman I’m overlooking?”

“Muses can be male, Master.” She paused. “His humanity, his sense of honor, his complex idea of love yet simple embrace of life . . . I see Niall in almost everything you’ve created.”

Her attention shifted to another work. It was a photograph, blown up to the size of the tree pictures, showing people standing on a busy nighttime street corner. Some smoked and talked, caught in dramatic gestures. One leaned on a lamppost next to a couple making out, wrapped up in each other. A tight knot of others focused on the light changing, all of them bathed in the city lights. Her gaze slid to the tree canvas, then back across. They weren’t identical, but the postures were so similar, it was impossible not to draw the connection.

“How did you . . . Did you pose them?”

“No. I took thousands of street corner shots for nearly a month. Niall helped me sift through all of them. Don’t get me started on his grumbling, because I had to clout him on the head to get him to shut up about it—but eventually I found one that was similar yet different enough to work.”

“I could look at your work all my life and never get tired of it,” she said honestly. Then, realizing that could be insulting, given that she didn’t have much life left, she added, “I wish I had a much longer life to do so.”

Evan knew why Niall reacted the way he did when she said things like that. Though he’d rarely responded as openly about it as Niall did, now his fingers tightened on hers, conveying his fierce reaction, his recurring wish that he had more power to change her destiny.

Shyly, showing how new it was to her to seek contact, Alanna reached up with trembling fingers, caressed his jaw. It was rare he’d felt held in place by a human’s touch, but Evan was now, moved by the deep, powerful feeling he saw in her eyes. She claimed to see something amazing and unexpected in his art. One-of-a-kind. All he had to do was look at her to see a living example of that.

He’d heard Niall’s words to her about losing his heart. At the time, he’d been glad to be elsewhere, so he had time to school his reaction to it. Yet now, when Niall’s declaration gripped his heart anew, he looked up and saw him there.

He’d been caught up in her emotions, hadn’t sensed his approach. As he met his servant’s gaze, he reached out a hand. At least in this moment, there was nothing between them except her.

Niall proved it, coming to him without hesitation, so that they held Alanna between them. It was as if with the wall of their bodies, they could keep her from harm. Evan put his arms around both of them, while Niall gripped Evan’s side, strong fingers stroking his hip. It was a painful yet precious peace, holding his two servants to him.

Whether you wish to hear it or not, Niall, I feel very much as you do about her. Pressing his head against Niall’s jaw, he put his temple against Alanna’s silken hair. And losing you will tear the heart out of me. The curse of being a vampire is that we absorb the blows we wish would kill us.

His servant’s grip tightened. Niall might actually crack his pelvic bone, but Evan would bear any pain to absorb the emotion behind the gesture.

You need to make sure she stays yours, Evan. You need each other.

Evan lifted his head. The Scot’s tawny gaze was full of things Evan wanted to capture, and not only in a painting. If he could internalize every gesture, emotion and thought, Niall could never leave him. His muse would be part of his mind forever. His soul.

I need you, Niall. I always have.

The Scot looked as if he was going to respond to that, then his attention shifted, as did Alanna’s. In a heartbeat, both servants stepped away and turned toward the entrance of the gazebo, an automatic united front.

It’s Miah and Nerida. But even if they were enemies, the proper response is to step behind me, both of you.

Niall gave him his patented look that said he was wasting his breath. Though Alanna lowered her gaze and stepped into a proper position behind him, Evan wasn’t fooled. Not after what she’d pulled with the Trad. Servants. A blessed pain in his ass.

Niall shifted to his left, not as far behind him as Alanna, but enough to pass for proper etiquette, given that the vampires coming out of the shadows knew what kind of servant he was.

Oh, and Niall? As far as houghmagandie, it’s only Christians who think sex for pleasure is sinful. Jews think it’s just fine.

Aye? Well, ye also think eating a pig is wrong, and bacon is a God-given treasure.

Alanna choked on a snicker, looking mortified with herself, but sharing their conversation had achieved Evan’s desired result. Niall was grinning, and the seriousness of the moment had been eased. He turned his attention to the approaching vampires.

Miah and Nerida were mixed-blood, white and Aborigine. People often thought they were sisters, but the trauma of their making had made them kin, not blood. As he’d warned Alanna, Miah appeared to be an adolescent, Nerida no more than six, but their body language, the mature wisdom in their eyes, reflected their seventy-plus years. However, when needed for deception and survival, both could emulate children flawlessly.

Lord Mason had chosen a good place. Farida Sanctuary was a stimulating and stable environment for them. Nerida was a successful author, published under a pseudonym, and Miah was working on her second Masters in literature. With their shared love of stories, they were the bards of the sanctuary. They regularly offered bedtime stories in the communal pavilion to a rapt crowd. When needed, they made house calls to the cottages, soothing an anxious new arrival to sleep, whether woman or child, with their enchanting tales.

Nerida skipped up the stairs and jumped so Niall caught her in his arms and swung her around. “What’s this?” the Scot demanded. “A kitten with fangs and big brown eyes who can entice a lad to do anything.”

As she hugged him, Evan saw her check her fangs with her tongue, making sure Niall hadn’t remarked on them because they were showing. They weren’t able to retract them like mature vampires, but Lord Brian had taught them how to file them back.

She punched Niall’s shoulder, seeing from his dancing gaze he’d intended to make her self-conscious. “Not you. Head harder than rock.”

“In the Highlands, there are rocks that could knock some sense into me, sure enough. That’s why I left and never went back. A man with too much sense willnae get into trouble with the lasses, and what fun is that?”

Miah gave him and Evan both a hug. “Do you like where we put your paintings? Quite a few of our visiting artists use this space as a studio. Your work inspires their own creations. ‘Nature never hurries. Atom by atom, little by little, she achieves her work.’”

“Emerson is one of my personal favorites,” Evan approved. “As always, coming here is like coming home. ‘Discovering this idyllic place, we find ourselves filled with a yearning to linger here, where time stands still and beauty overwhelms.’ Anonymous, but a good friend to Emerson. As you are a good friend to me, and not just because you stroke my vanity by displaying my work.”

“Actually,” Niall drawled, “there were a couple ugly paint-stripped spots in here. They thought ‘well, now, that’s what we can do with Evan’s eyesores.’”

Though he ducked Evan’s head slap with the smoothness of long practice, Alanna tag-teamed with her Master, jabbing him in the ribs. The Scot gave her a heated look. “Hit me once more tonight, lass, and I’ll hit back, on the spot o’ my choosing.”

When Miah and Nerida turned their attention to her, Alanna knelt. “Mistresses, thank you for your hospitality to my Master. In accordance with his will, I am at your service.”

Miah snorted. “What did this poor child do to deserve you two? She’s obviously way above your station, Evan.”

Evan laughed. “She had an overdose of courage and integrity. We were her punishment.”

Alanna was appalled by Miah’s comment, but Evan’s good humor eased her mind. However, when he began to summarize her situation, the vampire females sobered and her tension returned. A quick glance at their faces told her nothing. When Evan finished, there was a harrowing moment of silence in the gazebo. Alanna twisted her fingers together in her lap.

“It’s not too far off the path of what we already do here,” Miah said at last. “Protect a female from the violent advances of male relatives or spouse. Sometimes, shamefully, even the female relatives try to extricate them. We’ve been fortunate, though. The only time we’ve lost one was when the resident is so damaged, she goes back to the situation on her own. I assume Alanna has no intentions of assisting Stephen in locating her?”

She didn’t look at Alanna, making it clear this was a vampire conversation. It didn’t stop Niall from interjecting, however.

“Only if she gets the misguided idea it will protect us,” he snorted. “In which case, I’ll strangle her before Stephen can do it.”

Alanna bit her lip, but said nothing. The unavoidable truth was that there was no command that would force her to endanger anyone further to protect her own life.

Evan shot her a sharp look. “Then I expect we’ll need to ensure that scenario doesn’t occur.” Though it appeared he was responding to Niall, she knew differently, especially when Niall sent her a censorious look, indicating Evan had shared her thought.