When he could manipulate the decision. He and Alanna both had that quality, the inability to lie to themselves. She’d been trained to evaluate herself ruthlessly to prohibit any mental dissembling. He’d learned from the need to survive. A vampire “runt”—Niall’s pseudo-affectionate term—who lied to himself didn’t last long.

As he stood out there, studying the flowers, the dark sky and pattern of stars across it, he kept his mind intentionally blank, letting it fuel from the silence, the realization there was nothing to do now but wait and see how things unfolded.

Tracking the movement of a moth, he centered his mind, watching everything slow down. He followed the insect’s passage across a solar light, the way a petal quivered as she landed on it, then took off again. Closing his eyes, he saw Alanna at the cabin. Then at the art colony . . . then in Stephen’s hands.

Niall had leaped into that fight like an enraged grizzly. He’d be a formidable vampire in truth. However, should he decide in favor of that, Evan didn’t intend the Scot to feel bound to his side. No matter the Council’s preference, he would be as free as any vampire, able to choose Evan’s company or not.

He should have told him that. It might have swayed his decision. Perhaps if he . . . No. Niall would come to Evan before he made his final decision, ask some more questions, because that was the type of man he was. Right now, Evan owed him space.

“I was angry at you, when you asked Daegan if he could take her life.”

Opening his eyes, Evan saw the Scot sitting on one of the garden benches, knees splayed, large hands loosely linked between them as he leaned forward. Evan wondered how long he’d been there. He could have walked up and staked him. Perhaps Niall was right about his need to be more alert.

“Aye, ye do. You’re not closing your mind to me right now.”

“No, I’m not. I did know you were angry about Daegan.”

Niall inclined his head. “I understood it, though. If she’d had enough of a mind to know we were caring for her, year after year, being a burden—no matter that she couldnae ever be a burden to us—that would have been the worst kind of Hell for the lass.”

Evan nodded, but Niall wasn’t yet done. “You had to make that call, because you knew I couldnae do it. While I might enjoy warming her arse, the idea of truly harming her . . .”

“You’re a gentle man, for all your ferocity, Niall. I know that.”

“Am I too gentle to be a vampire?”

Despite the intensity of feeling that held him so very still, only a few yards from the man he cared for more than any other man he’d ever met, Evan smiled. “You know the answer to that as well as I. Your kind of gentleness fortunately does not lie in that direction.”

“No. I guess not. I’ve helped you with your annual kill for three hundred years,” Niall said thoughtfully. “I resolved it for myself, the way a hunter does. The purpose is to eat, to survive, so ye respect the sacrifice. You think about the life taken. Doesnae matter if ’tis a deer enjoying the warmth of a meadow sun, or a bloke thinking about meeting the lass of his dreams when he goes off to a club. When you keep company with vampires, life becomes both more sacred and more temporal. No.” Niall corrected himself. “When keeping company with a vampire like you.”

The bed of moonflowers was between them. Evan noticed a pair of squirrel statuary hidden in their foliage. “What are you thinking, Niall?”

“That day at the stream. Do you think of it?”

“Often.” Evan met his gaze. “I wanted you then and there. Especially when you got hard as a tree branch, despite that fucking freezing water.”

Niall grunted. His gaze fell on the squirrels.

Damn it. The things that needed to be said might as well be popping up on cue card signs, held up by the lawn ornamentation. Glancing across the garden to the infirmary window, Evan saw the staff woman reading by Alanna’s bed, the girl still sleeping peacefully. He wished he’d already marked her, so he could let her hear this. Women took particular joy in being right, and their deceptively compliant InhServ was no exception.

“It’s not in our nature to feel regret, particularly in our dealings with humans. But I do feel that, toward how you came into my service.”

Niall lifted his head. “I was wondering about that. What ye said, about manipulating me. Didnae ken how to bring it up, though.”

“It wasn’t your responsibility to bring it up.” Sighing, Evan spread out his hands in an empty gesture. “You watched Ceana sicken, knowing the disease would never touch you because of the mark I gave you. You watched her die, watched your daughter die, knowing whether it had happened then or forty years later, you wouldn’t be able to follow them for centuries. You were denied the hope of being reunited with them in a mortal life span. There’s a comfort to that aspect of mortality that those of us who are immortal will never comprehend.”

Evan shifted. “And while you were going through that, all I knew was that I wanted you as my servant. I thought myself so magnanimous; waiting for your family to not need you anymore, but in reality I was as much a bastard as the clansman who used your love of your family to put you in that battle that nearly took your life. He knew how easy it was to manipulate your fate, because you had no power against him.”

Niall’s brow creased, his mouth tight. Though Evan could plumb his mind if he chose, he didn’t now. He wanted it to be clear he spoke to Niall as an equal. It might not hold beyond this moment, but he owed the man that regard.

“I was once human, but it was so long ago, and things change when you become a vampire. You forget those inclinations, the emotions. So I can’t say I understand your feelings enough, even now, to claim empathy, or even a great deal of sympathy, because I’ve never stopped wanting you. I might be sorry for what it did to you, but I’m not honorable enough to regret it.”

Those handsome lips, the ones he’d tasted countless times, twisted in a wry expression. He’d felt their demand, felt them on his cock and other parts of his body, but now they held power over him with their simple silence.

Evan rose, paced over to a stand of dogwoods. A birdbath hung on a chain from it, and someone had put a silver quarter in it, like a wishing fountain. He wondered what had inspired the attempt to use it that way, but it underscored the point. Vampires could have wishes as much as humans. And just like humans, they often found wishes didn’t come true.

“You’ve always held a part of your heart away from me. I have your regard, affection, your lust . . . but I don’t have your love, because I’ve never earned it. I have your mind and soul, but I don’t have your heart. Just like you told Alanna.”

Saying it aloud was more difficult than he’d expected. For women, speaking painful truths aloud might be a purging, but for a male it was like engraving it in stone, making it an immutable truth. It made him realize how much he’d truly wanted that from Niall, but he couldn’t blame the man for not offering it. It was his own fault.

Niall rose, coming over to the birdbath. As he trailed his fingers over the glistening quarter, he made the shallow water ripple. They’d known each other for so long. From the look in his eyes, Evan knew he was turning things over in his mind, slow and steady. To give him that time, he backed off a few steps, taking Niall’s bench, feeling the boards warmed by the Scot’s fine backside, those powerful thighs.

“You made me want ye when I wanted to hate ye,” Niall said at last. “When I did hate you. Yet ye took me so many places. Before Ceana died, she said ‘Once our bairns are grown, go with Evan. Have the life you’ve always wanted.’ She knew, no matter how I tried to deny it. So I’ve never thanked ye for it. You never asked for my thanks”—a grim smile touched his lips—“only my service, and the pleasure my body could offer ye, but still. You gave me quite a life. And now, here at the end of it, like the blooming of a first flower in spring, ye gave me her.”

Lifting his head then, he turned and met Evan’s gaze. “So you’re right. Ye didnae have my love, not that way. Not ’til her. Ye would have gone after Stephen, no matter who she was, as a matter of honor. But that’s nae how ye fought him. I felt your rage. Saw the way you held her afterward, the way you looked at both of us. It was like a key in a lock. So rusty I thought it wouldnae turn, but it did, and I found it wasn’t a matter of you not having my love. Ye always had it, and the seed for it was planted that first day, just as Alanna suspected. I held it locked inside myself, afraid to give it to you. Then I thought maybe you didnae want it. Ye always seemed more interested in my soul and mind. But I watched you with her, and that’s when I saw your heart.”

“Alanna told me that men value honor,” Evan said, his mouth absurdly dry. “And that women value love.”

“I’ve often thought ye think more like a woman.” Niall’s gaze gleamed, but then he sobered. “I knew how humans love, understood it from that perspective. But through her, through how she served ye, how she viewed herself, I could finally ken how a vampire loves, what it looks like. How you love. Fierce, deep and quiet, like a predator. That key . . . everything else opened up, a book flipping backward through all the pages we’ve written, and I put it together.”

He dropped to his heels then, comfortable in the pose as he braced his elbows on his knees and templed his fingers. “That night on the battlefield. You drove the looters off of me, took me to safety. Through the pain of the marking, because ye had to do it all at once, you kept gripping my hand. I broke several of your bones, but you never let go. When I had fever after, ye brushed the hair from my forehead, gentle as Ceana might have done.”

“Niall . . .”

“I’m going to finish it, so best not try and stop me.”

Evan pressed his lips together. “Already acting like a vampire.”

“No. Just myself. I expect you’ll take your pound of flesh for it, but that’s something I’ve learned to anticipate.”