Her hand slid across the chair arm and closed on his wrist. She stroked the bones there, her fingers a caress he would have crawled through the desert to feel. Turning now, she brought a morsel to his mouth that looked like it had tomato and cheese on it. He opened for her, and she fed it to him, teasing him with her fingers on his lips as he tried to swallow it.

Anwyn . . .

Be still in heart, dear love / And give each beat to me. I will care for it / For I care for thee.

She tilted her head, the rich brown of her hair catching the torchlight. A simple poem from long ago. A child’s lullaby.

“I"m afraid to believe in this. And if I do, then what does that make me?” The vampire hunter who finds a home with two vampires. It sounds like a bad sitcom idea, one that won’t sell.

His voice had cracked, and so he"d finished the thought in his mind, but he wondered if Anwyn shared it with Daegan. Because as her hand closed over his again, lacing with his fingers, Daegan"s stretched out along the back of her chair and gave his sleeve a brief, absent stroke, the man"s dark eyes finding his over Anwyn"s intent face.

“It means the world is a strange, terrible and wonderful place,” she murmured. “What did you think of that one? The bread?”

Gideon gave a harsh half laugh. “It"s a microwave pizza bite, pretending to be fancy, overly priced food.”

She snorted. “That"s a gourmet red sauce and breaded, excellent gouda cheese.”

“Red sauce, bread, cheese. Sounds like pizza to me.”

“The world"s most perfect food,” Daegan commented, earning her exasperated look. The vampire leaned back in his chair, one ankle brought to the opposite knee, but the casual pose was deceptive. Gideon could tell he was keeping a constant surveillance on their surroundings, just as he was. Unfortunately, Anwyn could tell as well.

“Would the two of you stop scoping the area like you"re expecting an invasion? No one is looking for me, no one knows who Daegan is, and do you really think someone with a vendetta against Gideon is going to look for him at a Gourmet Taste Fest? Only if they"ve never met him.”

“Did she just insult me?” Gideon asked.

Daegan"s lips quirked. “You yourself said you have no culture and class. She was simply supporting your opinion.” However, his gaze sobered, the vampire sliding a knuckle across her fair cheek. “I have no intentions of ruining the evening for you, cher, but another lesson you must learn is that vampires sense one another. Like all territorial predators, they will check each other out to make sure the vampire is one they know, or one who is permitted in the territory. The Council knows I am bringing you to them, but, by necessity, the territory overlord knows nothing of you yet. If you were thought to be a loner without protection, others might take advantage.”

“So you"re both armed.”

“To the teeth.” Gideon gave her a disarming wink as he signaled to the waiter. “Do you have beer?”

“No, sir,” the waiter said politely, though his expression held a mildly sardonic cast.

“However, there is a convenience store four blocks from here with twenty-four-ounce Icehouse and prepackaged nachos.”

“He"d be perfect target practice,” Gideon noted as the waiter moved off. He narrowed his gaze at the laughing Anwyn and grinning Daegan.

“No sport in that,” said the vampire. “You"re lying to us, by the way. Or yourself. You are good at things other than killing.” His gaze passed over Gideon"s shoulders. “You played football in high school. Varsity.”

“I can think of many things he"s good at, other than killing.” Anwyn gave him a heated lingering glance. Gideon tried to ignore the feeling that she"d closed her clever, smooth fingers on his cock and scowled at Daegan instead.

“Do you ever forget anything? Keys? Credit cards?”

“Was she beautiful?”

Anwyn"s question, spoken now with quiet seriousness, brought his attention back to her.

The fairy lights of the surrounding area gave a soft shine to her lips, her eyes. Her hand rested on his thigh, Daegan"s arm still across the back of her chair, linking the three of them together amid the murmur of conversation, muted laughter, piano jazz.

“Yeah.” He knew he shouldn"t be surprised that their dinner conversation would possess a little more gravity than most, or that he"d feel oddly comfortable speaking the otherwise painful words about Laura, his dead high school sweetheart. “She was a kid, like me at the time. With blond hair, blue eyes, and a beautiful smile. It was wide-open, you know, taking everyone into it. She was a cheerleader, so we were the cliché, but she wasn"t. She was down to earth, nice to everyone. She was my first sex, in the back of my old car.” He shrugged, stared down in his wine to recall words he"d rarely spoken, except maybe to Jacob, years ago. Before he"d walled himself off. “I was horny as any kid, but I was really gentle the whole time, you know?”

“I know. I"d expect nothing less of you,” she responded, her voice laden with compassion. It didn"t drive him back into himself, like it normally would. Maybe because he knew Anwyn was already there.

“Jesus, I was shaking. Scared I"d do something to hurt her. But she smiled so sweet when I finally got inside her, held my shoulders, and told me she"d never felt more complete. She was

. . . When I finally cried about losing my parents, she was the one that held me. I told her I"d always take care of her, keep her safe, love her. And—”

“No, stop there.” Anwyn"s voice was so inexorably tender, he had to stop. Her hand tightened on his thigh. “The rest doesn"t matter. What you just said, that"s what matters to her.”

He nodded, his jaw tightening. “Don"t know why I said all that. Jesus, I—” Anwyn put a hand to his face, and with the pad of her forefinger, she pressed on the corner of his eye, absorbing the tear that had gathered there, no matter how hard he"d fought it. As she did, Daegan made a gesture. The waiter came back to his shoulder.

“Yes, sir?” he said. His voice held an obsequiousness that told Gideon the fact he and Daegan both wore tuxedos couldn"t disguise the truth. They were from two very different classes.

Daegan held up a folded bill, dropped it on the man"s tray. “You have a fully stocked bar in the kitchen. Bring my friend a beer, now. Whenever he gets close to empty, I expect another to appear. Without the sarcasm.”

Gideon thought the look in Daegan"s eye was enough to send the waiter scampering to do his bidding, even without the C-note. Clearing his throat, he shrugged off the moment, gave Anwyn a forced comic look. “That"s enough about me. It"s way past time to include Daegan in our game of Twenty Questions.”

It was the game they"d used early on to pass the time, right before or after her initial seizures. Not only had it helped her center herself, it had become a way to learn more about each other as well. Or defuse difficult moments, like this one. “You know he"s got to have an embarrassing potty-training story in there somewhere over seven hundred freaking years.”

“This is the thanks I get, after I secured you an endless supply of beer?”

“In this place? That will get me three, maybe. Two, if the waiter takes his twenty percent out.” Gideon snorted, but when he shifted his legs, he managed to shove at Daegan"s shiny dress shoe with his own, a grudging thanks.

“I think Gideon has an excellent idea.” Anwyn took them past the awkward male bonding moment, thank God. Daegan appeared amused and faintly alarmed at her piercing regard.

“You"ve told me why you work for the Council, but how did you end up working for them?” Gideon wondered that anyone could resist her, the long lashes and straight, slim nose, that combination of imperious and completely female curiosity. Daegan confirmed it with the warm resignation that suffused his features. “My mother was on the Council.”

“So that"s how come you have the lordship title. You"re a born vampire.” Gideon had guessed as much, and he knew Anwyn was already aware of the keen disparity of rank between born and made vampires. “How come you don"t want us to call you Lord Daegan?

Not that I would, but I know it"s not because you"re all that egalitarian.” Daegan gave him a derisive look, but answered the question straight enough. “Everything about who and what I am is a Council secret. I had an unremarkable childhood, as vampires go, at least to outside appearances. However, I have certain abilities that set me apart. One is the speed. The other is my inability to be detected by another vampire. I don"t carry that scent or aura.”

“And your immunity to the Delilah virus.” It was something that had impacted Lady Lyssa, arguably the most powerful vampire in their world, so that in itself was a curiosity. “Was your father your mother"s human servant? It seems like most of the born vampires come from that vampire-servant pairing.”

“No. My mother told me her encounter with my father was brief, and that he was not a part of her life. He is unaware of my existence, as far as I know.” Daegan took a sip of his wine.

“After the Territory Wars, a discreet, non-politic way was needed to eliminate vampires and others who threatened exposure of our kind. My mother proposed me for the role. I"d lived my life separate from the vampire world, so it made it easier.” He glanced toward Gideon. “You"re familiar with vampire tolerance for differences, I"m sure.”

“Oh yeah.” They"d tried to execute Lyssa when they found out about her Fey background, leading to the uneasy relationship the Council had with her and Jacob now.

“I"m indifferent to their politics and world. It was my mother I served, but since her death, the Council and I have not disagreed. I do not have a problem taking out unstable made vampires who are overindulging their natural brutality. It is something worthwhile that must be done.”

Gideon took a swallow of the beer the waiter had brought, putting it at his elbow with silent efficiency. He read Anwyn"s tense expression easily enough, as did Daegan, for he covered her hand with his. “You do not have anything to worry about, cher. Though made vampires are not as highly regarded as born ones, they are accepted as part of the structure.”