“That could take a while.” I grimaced, rubbing the back of my neck with my palm. I wasn’t feeling benevolent at the moment, not after my rude awakening.
“I have no doubt that’s true.” She busied herself by arranging items on a silver tray.
A growl vibrated in my chest, and I gritted my teeth to contain my burgeoning annoyance. “Why am I awake?” I demanded. “And what fucking year is it?”
“I’m not talking to you until you’re less grouchy.” She didn’t bother to look up from her task. Her silvery-white hair fell over her shoulder, blocking me from seeing her face. But I heard the grin she kept hidden. I’m glad she was having fun.
I tried a more polite approach. “What year is it, please?”
“It’s 2021, sir.” She turned a sweet smile on me. I knew better than to trust it. Celia could rip a man’s heart from his chest without breaking a nail. I’d watched her do it–more than once.
“Christ, I was hoping to get a few more decades in.”
Her lips pinched together, erasing the smile, but she didn’t respond. She simply shrugged her slight shoulders as though nothing was out of the ordinary. I studied her for a moment, trying to get some clues on what I’d missed while I’d been out. But there was nothing remarkable about her appearance. She looked exactly as she had a couple dozen years ago. The scar that extended down one side of her face, a gift from a former lover a lifetime ago, remained uncovered. She’d hidden it as a mortal but wore it proudly as a vampire. She called it proof that she had survived and a warning to anyone that might hurt her in the future. It was one of the reasons I trusted her. She didn’t bother to hide her past or who she was now. She owned it.
But despite that trust, she was keeping something from me now. I could feel it.
That didn’t bode well.
I moved to sit up and nearly ripped an IV from my forearm. I glanced at the crimson stream filtering down the tube and sighed heavily. It was a thoughtful gesture on her part but further proof that my nap was over. I untangled myself as best as I could and rested against my bamboo headboard while I waited for the transfusion to finish. It should cut the edge off any lingering hunger, which might help my irritability over the situation.
Somehow, I doubted it.
Now fully awake, I turned my attention to the turquoise waters lapping against the house. Not that it was a house, exactly. My private residence took up an entire island near Key West but was in international waters. So, unlike the Keys, the island was outside the reach of any government. It was an intentional choice as well as my way of sending a message to everyone I knew:
Leave me the fuck alone.
I’d made the entire island my sanctuary. I had built my bedroom to jut over the water, three walls surrounded by nothing but the ocean’s vast, unending blue. The rest of the island was as large as a fully functioning resort, and a dedicated group of vampires and humans lived on the three hundred acres for most of the year, vacating only for hurricane season. It was relaxing here, a luxury I suspected I should enjoy while I could. Celia had to have a damn good reason for waking me up.
“Anything happen while I was out?” I tried to make conversation, hoping she would finally reveal something.
“A fair amount. There’s a dossier of major events, the last four presidents and various heads of state, and this morning’s paper.” She must have decided I was no longer a bite risk, because she placed the silver tray next to me in bed. She turned to inspect the blood bag feeding into my arm. “This is empty. Should I get another one?”
I shook my head. The older I got, the less blood I needed after waking. Picking up the Wall Street Journal, I skimmed the headlines. My lips turned down with each bit of news. Reaching for the dossier, I found it even more depressing. “How did that moron get elected?” I flipped the page. “Or that one?”
I dropped the papers on the bed. The eighties had been a shit circus: too much hair, too many shoulder pads, and way too much cocaine. It had suited my siblings just fine, along with plenty of other vampires. But I’d needed a break. From the parties. From my family. From everything. I’d meant it when I told Celia to let me desiccate in my master suite until the apocalypse was at hand.
I’m not sure why she thought I was joking about that.
Stretching my arms over my head, I pushed free of the sheets. I preferred to sleep in the nude, which now gave me a chance to see that the blood drip had already done its job. I ran my palm over my stomach. The hard slab was as stacked and defined as it had been when I’d retired. Flexing my toes, I found my quads and calves had already regained their considerable muscle mass. There was no hint that I’d been sleeping for the better part of three decades, except maybe for the lingering erection inspired by my dreams. I’d been chasing a woman. It was the only dream I remembered having. I never caught her. The result was blue balls that had lasted decades and a hard-on that was as annoying as it was painful.
If Celia noticed, she didn’t comment. She was good that way. It was another mark in her favor.
“So, about my undesirable awakening…” I dredged up my most charming smile. It hung crookedly on my lips from lack of use.
“Your mother has summoned you home.” She blustered on, ignoring the sour change to my expression. “I’ve arranged the jet, but I should–”
Before she could finish the statement–or explain what my mother needed with her eldest son–the door to my room swung open on its hinges. A familiar figure stood in the doorway, grinning maniacally and giving no sign decades had passed since we last saw each other. Sebastian Rousseaux was not my brother by birth but by blood. It left us as far apart physically as we were in temperament. The last time I had seen him, he had bleached, spiky hair. He’d been leaning into the punk rock scene. Sebastian had adored every depraved moment of the eighties. Humans prone to excess were easy to manipulate, and vampires–who it turned out liked cocaine as much as they loved opium–found it difficult to resist.
And no one loved drugs and humans more than Sebastian.
His hair had grown longer and faded to its natural blond in the intervening years. He’d given up the earring and dog collar that had been his signature look back then but kept the motorcycle jacket. He wore it now over a black T-shirt and loose, worn Levi’s.
I observed all of this within a second of the door flying open. Sebastian might look different, but his cheekiness was fully intact because a half-dressed woman leaned precariously against him.
“Good morning, brother,” Sebastian called cheerfully. “I brought you a blonde.”
The girl’s head lolled a little, and she blinked dreamily over at me. She was conscious. Mostly. Her gaze skimmed down my body appreciatively until it reached my groin and locked on like a heat-seeking missile. Eyes widening, her mouth rounded as she stared.
“I appreciate the thought,” I said dryly. I tossed the sheet back over my lap to block her view of my dick. “But I’m not hungry.”
“I doubt that.”
I ignored his opinion. “Why are you here?”
Sebastian didn’t answer.
It was never a good sign when I woke from a long sleep to find him in my house. Or any of my siblings, for that matter. He shifted the woman to his other arm like a doll. Her arms flailed out, and she clung to his shoulder.
“I see you opted for a transfusion,” he said, lips turning down as Celia passed him with the spent blood bag. “But judging from that tent pole between your legs, you might need her for other matters.”
“That won’t be necessary.” But I might as well have been talking to a brick wall because Sebastian was already murmuring to the woman.
“Tell him how much you love to go for a ride.”
“I love to ride,” she said in a dreamy voice. “Can we go for one now?”
“See? The flesh is willing.” Sebastian moved into the room. He didn’t rush like most vampires his age, who saw their speed as an advantage. No, my brother had perfected the art of taking his time. When he finally reached the bed, he nudged her toward it.
