I looked at the sons. The twins looked at me, smiling, somewhere between amused and embarrassed. But it was the kind of embarrassment that any teenager would have felt if his mom did something that made him squirm. The older one, behind the love seat, looked more like I felt, uncomfortable as hell.
"You must be Sampson," I said.
He looked startled, then nodded. "I am."
"What do you think about all this? I mean, do you want to be brought into your sirenhood?"
He looked down, then up. "Do you know that you are the first person to ask me how I feel about this?"
I let the surprise show on my face.
"It's no reflection on my parents. They love me. Us. But Father is over a thousand years old, and Mother is older still. Arranged marriages don't seem strange to them, and they both would love to have one of us be as powerful as Mother. It would cement our power base along the entire eastern seaboard of this country. I understand all that, or I wouldn't be standing here."
"But," I said.
He smiled, and it was his father's smile. "But, I don't know you. The thought of being forced to have sex with anyone is just... wrong."
I looked at the twins. "And you, Thomas and Cristos, right?"
They nodded.
"How do you feel about this?"
They looked at each other, then one blushed and the other didn't. The one who didn't blush said, "I'm Thomas, Tom, when Mom's not around to complain." He gave her a smile out of his father's hazel eyes. "I saw pictures of you before we came. I knew you were pretty, and"—now he blushed, bit his lip, and tried again—"I would love to have an excuse to have sex with you. There, that's the truth."
"How old are you?" I asked.
He glanced at his parents.
"Don't look at them, answer the question."
Sampson answered it, "They're seventeen."
"Seventeen," I said. "Jesus, that's not legal."
"It is legal in Missouri," Thea said. "We did check your laws before we brought them here."
I looked at her, and didn't know what my face showed, but it felt like nothing pleasant. "I don't do teenagers. Hell, I didn't do teenagers when I was one."
"Then let my wife taste your power, Anita," Samuel said. "It is likely that your power will not do what we need. Succubus is close to siren, but not the same creature. If your power does not recognize Thea's, then we will allow Sampson to go home with his morals intact. We will disappoint Thomas."
That reminded me. "Cristos, you never said how you feel about all this."
The one who had blushed raised his eyes to me. The look was enough— embarrassment, fear even, but under that was eagerness. The look just screamed virgin. I so was not going to be the one who took his virginity. So not doing that. The fact that his parents were encouraging it just made it creepier.
His voice was low, but deep enough. It was not the voice of a child, but the look was. "Cris, I'm Cris."
I wanted to say out loud, Your first time should be with someone you care about. Your virginity should go to someone you love. But I didn't want to embarrass him more than he already was, so instead I said, "Fine." I looked at Thea. "Thea can taste my power." I did not add that I hoped she didn't like the power, because nothing was going to make me pick any of their sons.
Sons. Children. It made me remember why we had pregnancy tests in our overnight bag. Would I be bargaining for some sort of arranged shacking-up for my own child some day? I mean, no matter who the father was, none of us was exactly human, and most of us were scarily powerful. Shit. I wished I hadn't thought of that.
Thea was in front of me, her head to one side, studying my face. "You
look worried, Anita, very worried, as if you've thought of something new to fret over."
That was a little too perceptive. I was really going to have to work harder at hiding my facial expressions tonight. I tried for a little truth. "Samuel is only the second master vamp I've ever met with a grown child, or children. It's just... weird."
Micah leaned more of himself against the arm he was holding. Nathaniel cuddled in tighter to my back, though the gun kept him from being as comforting as I wanted him to be. They knew what I'd thought of, or maybe they'd been thinking the same thing, or something close to it.
Thea turned her head to the other side, and it didn't remind me of anything aquatic. It reminded me of a bird of prey judging the distance to my eye.
I shivered. Please, God, don't let me be pregnant.
She touched my face with fingers that were still fever warm. "It is not I who put that frown between the dark beauty of your eyes."
I drew my head back enough not to be touched. "Very poetic. Let's get this done, Thea. We're wasting moonlight."
She gave a smile that reminded me of the one that Tom had used just before he blushed and bit his lip, and admitted wanting to have sex with me. The twins looked very much like her except for the eyes.
"Very well, but your men will have to step away. I do not know what the effect would be if they were touching you while I do diis. It might raise the ardeur for certain, or..."
"Or what?" I asked.
"Or they might bolster your defenses and keep me from testing your power at all." She gave a movement of pale shoulders that was almost a shrug, but not quite. "I will treat you as I treat Samuel. I will tell you the truth. I simply am not certain. If you were a vampire then I might know, but you are more, and less. You are not simply one thing or the other, but both, and many. I think it must change the rules of power and magic around you."
I took in a deep breath, let it out slow, and nodded. I moved forward and Micah and Nathaniel moved back. They gave me the room we asked for. I'm not sure any of us were sure it was a good idea, but if she found me wanting then there were three very unpalatable pomme de sang candidates off the table. Yippee.
Thea took me in her arms again, and I didn't fight it. I even wrapped my arms around her. She didn't try to control my head this time. She trusted me to let her kiss me.
I actually went up on tiptoe for her, which meant she was closer to six feet
than I'd thought. I found myself putting a hand along the edge of her face as if this were a kiss that I wanted. Sometimes I touched someone's face be- cause it was intimate. Sometimes I touched them because a hand on the face
helps you control the kiss more if things get out of hand. Two guesses which
reason it was this time, and first guess doesn't count.
7
SHE KISSED ME, and this time I didn't fight her. I let my body melt into hers, let her feed at my mouth. There is a moment in a kiss, especially an open-mouth kiss, where the caress of lips and tongue spills over some line, and beyond that line, you kiss back. I kissed her, kissed her as she was meant to be kissed, full and complete, tasting her.
I drew back enough to whisper, "You taste salty."
She breathed her answer in my mouth, as she drew me back into the kiss, "You taste of blood." Her breath filled my mouth, caressed the back of my throat. Her breath tasted fresh and clean like the wind off the ocean.
Her lips tasted like she had just that second taken a sip of the ocean. I licked her lip, and found that there was a whitish film on the fullness of her mouth. It wasn't illusion. It was real.
I swallowed the salty taste of her lips, staring up at her, feeling the surprise on my face. "How ..." But I never finished the question, because I didn't just swallow the taste of salt, I swallowed her power.
I heard the ocean whispering against the shore. I could hear it like music. I looked around the room. I wanted to ask someone else if they could hear it. I meant to look for Micah, or Nathaniel, but that wasn't who caught my gaze. Thomas was staring at me with wide eager eyes. His brother had collapsed to the love seat, and was covering his ears with his hands, rocking back and forth. Cristos was fighting it, whatever it was, but Thomas wasn't. Sampson had a death grip on the love seat, but his eyes had drowned to black so that he looked blind. The other man and woman they'd brought with them turned black eyes to me. The woman was hugging herself, as if cold, or afraid. The man had a death grip on his own wrist, the typical jock pose turned into something harsh and struggling, as if, if he let go of his wrist, he would do something unfortunate. Last I found Samuel's eyes. His eyes had bled to vampire fire, the glowing brown with flecks of green flame in their depths. They all could hear it, that whispering, seductive sound. The ocean was calling, and I didn't know how to answer.