Sigrid’s car handled like a dream.

Will downshifted through the curves defining the road leading into town. The purr of the Porsche Boxster’s engine reverberated through the steering wheel into his left hand, a reminder of the manmade machine’s power and grace.

Traits it shared with its owner.

He cut an admiring glance at his companion out of the corner of his eyes. Sigrid relaxed into the passenger’s seat with her hands folded primly in her lap. Her long, shapely legs were crossed at the knees under the elegant lines of her ivory skirt.

That skirt had seemed so demure in her office. It fell to precisely six inches above the center of her knees. Yet here, with her sitting in the car beside him, it rode up, exposing another four inches of her shapely thighs, a sinful temptation juxtaposed against her composed, icy beauty.

He shifted in his own seat, easing the first stirrings of lust in his groin, and focused on the road. She’d never let him drive again if he wrecked her car during his first turn behind the wheel. Hell, he’d probably never get another turn anyway. Daughters, especially immortal Daughters of Sigrid’s era, liked to retain control of their surroundings, including a simple chore like driving.

“Why pizza?” she asked.

Her voice cut through his musings, dampening his growing desire. He cleared his throat and said, “Everybody likes pizza.”

“What if I don’t?”

He glanced across the car’s interior. Her head was turned toward the passenger’s side window, hiding most of her expression except the slight upturn of her mouth. “We can go somewhere else.”

“Pizza’s fine.”

Then why had she asked? He shook his head and flicked on the turn signal, then eased into the turn lane for Highway 441 North behind two other vehicles. A Daughter’s games. Was she going to be like that during their lunch date?

The arrow pointing left turned green and the cars in front of them accelerated into the turn. Will followed, half annoyed at himself. After waiting two years just to have her acknowledge him, he should be happy she’d asked him out, not nitpicking her behavior and wishing for more.

They chitchatted during the remainder of the drive to Franklin, mostly covering small town gossip. Tellowee wasn’t that big, nor the People so numerous, that good news and bad could stay under wraps for long. Someone was always getting married or having a baby or fighting this scuffle or that. The familiarity of it all relaxed Will, easing the nervous energy plaguing him since that first kiss.

The parking lot next to Vito’s was crowded when they turned into it off the Highlands Road. Will edged the Porsche into a parking space, then helped Sigrid out of the car, a courtesy she accepted with a regal tilt of her Scandinavian head.

They snagged the last free table in the packed room, scanned the menu, and agreed on toppings. As soon as the waitress took the order and hustled through crowded tables toward the kitchen, Sigrid fixed her cold blue eyes on him and said, “You are Anya Bloodletter’s grandson.”

Will sat back in his chair, unsurprised. Small town, small population. Everybody was related to everybody else in one way or another, and as a member of the Council of Seven, his grandmother was known by most.

“Yes,” he said.

“She and I have waged many battles together.”

His mouth curved into a faint smile. “I’ve heard some of the stories.”

“Have you?” Sigrid’s luscious mouth curved into a matching smile. “How long have you managed The Omega?”

“Unofficially? Since I was sixteen.” Which was illegal in the state of Georgia or, at least, it was illegal to serve alcohol while under the legal age, but what the government didn’t know wouldn’t hurt anybody. “Mom and Dad started taking trips about then. Dad always wanted to travel, and with Casey growing up—”

“Casey?”

“My sister. Four years younger than me. You’ve probably seen her around the Omega.”

Sig nodded, though whether she was acknowledging knowing Casey or merely agreeing with him, Will couldn’t tell.

“Anyway.” He shifted in his seat and ran his palms down his thighs, settling them there in a loose grip. “By the time I graduated from college and Casey started college, they were gone more often than they were home. It seemed kind of natural for them to hand over the reins to me.”

“You enjoy bartending.”

It wasn’t a question. Will treated it as one anyway, unsure what else to say. “It can be fun watching the customers, giving people a safe and friendly place to go after work. What about you? How’d you get into genetics?”

Her faint smile turned rueful. “The calling found me. I had a knack for tending battlefield wounds, a skill most Daughters acquire over time if they value their hides.”

Will grinned. Wasn’t that the truth. Daughters, especially fighters like Sigrid, were always getting into scrapes. Sometimes those scrapes involved swords, guns, and other assorted weaponry, and the resulting wounds could be deadly, even for the immortals. Death claimed everybody, given enough time.

“Did you go to college?” he asked.

“I have,” she acknowledged. “Several times, but not until arriving in the New World.”

Will sat forward and braced his forearms on the tabletop. Her scent drifted over him, as it had when she’d visited his apartment that morning, and now as then, it stirred his senses from interest into desire.

He shook it off, disciplining himself, and focused on the conversation. “Where?”

“Harvard, first disguised as a man, later as myself, then Duke and Emory.” She shrugged one shoulder, shifting the thin silk covering her upper body. It pulled against her breasts, highlighting them, and Will’s mouth went dry. “I followed the early discoveries of DNA and its deciphering, and realized that if the People’s underlying genetic structure could be untangled, we would gain a powerful tool in our quest to preserve our culture.”

“So you became an expert.”

“Yes.” Her expression shifted infinitesimally, flashing momentarily into something less than happy, and cleared just as quickly. “Did you always want to tend bar?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to be a lot of things when I was a kid. Back in high school, I thought about going into genealogy, so when the career rotations came up in the ninth grade, I asked Dr. Upton if I could work with him.”

“How long did you work in his office?”

“Still there,” he said, and grinned. “Liked it so much, I started volunteering after the rotation was up. There’s just something about digging into the past that gets under your skin. You must feel that a lot with the work you do.”

Her eyelids lowered, covering the frigid blue of her irises. “The past is an ever present memory. I need not turn to work in order to feel it.”

The poignancy underscoring her words pricked Will. He cupped a hand over hers, resting in her lap, and squeezed gently. “Sorry.”

Her eyes flashed up to his and widened. “Why?”

Because he should’ve known better than to bring up the past to a Daughter with as many battles under her belt as Sigrid had.

Just then, the owner appeared at the table carrying a piping hot pizza, and the mood was broken. Their conversation returned to the light banter they’d shared in the car and continued in that manner over the meal. When they were finished, Sigrid insisted on paying. Will barely refrained from rolling his eyes. He’d been taught better, and besides, Sons knew their places. By accepting Sigrid’s invitation to lunch, he’d also accepted the role she wanted him to play.

For the moment, just until he could talk her into a more equitable arrangement.

He drove them back to the IECS compound more slowly than he’d driven to Franklin and parked in her allotted spot outside her office. She allowed him to help her out again, then stood in front of him with her hand in his and her head tilted to the side, studying him beneath lowered lashes.

That same old nervous energy enveloped him and he eased a fraction closer. She was right there, so close her breaths touched his skin, so close her mouth was a scant hand’s breadth away.

She placed her free hand on his chest and ran a finger along the collar of his jacket. “Kiss me, Will Corbin, beloved Son of Wilhelmina the Fierce.”

She didn’t need to ask twice. He cupped her slender hips in his hands and urged her against him, meeting her halfway, and his mouth came down on hers in a gentle echo of their first two kisses. Soft, teasing, light. He flicked his tongue out, tasting her, and nearly groaned as her tongue touched his.

Sweet Mother. He’d wanted her so long, too long to stand in the middle of a public parking lot and neck with her without giving his desire away.

He ended the kiss abruptly, leaned his forehead against hers, and pretended his chest wasn’t heaving with every breath, that his dick wasn’t half hard just from the simple touch of her mouth on his.

Her hand curled around his collar and tugged, and the corners of her mouth tilted up. “Tonight.”

He tried to answer, cleared his throat of the desire choking him, and managed a hoarse, “Yeah?”

“I’ll be at The Omega. Save a dance for me.”

His hands tightened reflexively on her hips. A dance with Sigrid, the woman he’d wanted since the first time he laid eyes on her? Hell, yeah. He’d be there with bells on.

She leaned into him, brushed her lips against his again, then slipped away, her heels a sharp rap against the asphalt. Will stood there unable to turn around. One day he’d have to watch her walk away for good. When that time came, she’d leave him broken in ways he could only imagine. With an immortal Daughter, that was a given.

 

 

Will left his car parked where it was, in a guest spot outside Sigrid’s office, and walked across the campus of the Institute for Early Cultural Studies, the People’s leading research center. Here, top scientists worked on projects assigned by his cousin Rebecca Upton, the IECS’s director, to further the People’s ultimate goals: Cultural continuation, freedom from persecution, the fulfillment of the Prophecy of Light.

Every member, whether mortal or immortal, had a duty to aid the People. Most did, some didn’t, but all kept those goals uppermost in their minds.

Will tapped a stray pebble with the toe of his dress shoe, then kicked it out of his path. The Omega played an important role in Tellowee, as similar places did in other communities where the People lived. It was a gathering spot, neutral territory where differences among families and individuals could be negotiated or ironed out. It also provided a safe haven for every patron to relax and enjoy herself for a few hours, without having to constantly look over her shoulder for coming danger.

Some, like Sigrid, always kept a sharp eye out. Habit or instinct, most likely, or a combination of both. A lax Daughter was a dead Daughter. Each learned that lesson early on, usually the hard way.

Sons were no different. Will jogged up the steps of the building housing Dr. Upton’s office and pulled the outer door open. Male offspring were so rare, they were protected at all costs, including rigorous training in situational survival, martial arts, and the use of common weaponry, no different than their immortal sisters had when they were young.

Once training was completed, the difference in treatment between the two sexes could be stark. Daughters were cut loose and allowed freedoms that, until recently, had been forbidden to cosseted Sons. Only in modern times had Sons been allowed to choose their own mates, work outside the family, or travel on their own. The last hundred years or so of social innovation in the outside world had brought an echo of the same within the People.

Thank the Lady Ki he’d been born now and not back in the good ol’ days when Daughters chained their men and kept them as virtual slaves.

Will stopped in front of Dr. Upton’s office and frowned. It was locked tight, unusual for the time of day. Maybe Robert had had a late lunch or a doctor’s appointment. Will shook his worry off, jotted a quick note, and pinned it to the bulletin board tacked to the wall outside the office. He checked his watch, sighed at the time, then backtracked to his truck. He’d drop by later on in the week, when he had more than a few minutes to spare.

The last of the late lunchers were trickling out of the Omega when Will parked in his reserved spot behind the bar. He slipped in through the employees’ entrance carrying a change of clothes in his workout bag, then headed to his office, nodding polite greetings to the staff he passed.

If he focused, he could get through a chunk of the paperwork his accountant needed in order to file taxes for The Omega’s previous business year.

As soon as he dropped into the chair behind his desk, Casey soared into his office looking like Armageddon was right around the corner. She slumped into a chair across the desk from him, rested her tray on her lap, and twisted her pretty mouth into a frown.

“I forbid it,” she said.

He shuffled through the stack of files on his desk, searching for the printouts of last year’s expenses. “Forbid what?”

“That woman.”

He left off his search and leaned back in his chair. “Which woman would that be?”

“You know the one,” Casey said, her voice a hair shy of a firm snap. “I forbid you from dating her.”

Sigrid. Right.

Will shook his head. “Like you have a say.”

“I’m the Daughter.”

“You’re a runt.” One corner of his mouth curved upward. “How many times did it take you to pass basic firearms training? Four?”

“Three,” she muttered, and scowled. “Why do you have to bring that up every time we argue?”

“Because every time we argue, it’s over you trying to force me to do something I don’t want to do.”

“Mom would—”

Will jabbed a finger at her. “You aren’t Mom.”

“But I’m the—”

“And she and Dad are the only two people who might, maybe, in some small way, have a say in who I date.”

Casey winced. “You’re really going to date her?”

He stifled the impulse to retort, her, who? “We had lunch. She’s dropping by tonight the way she always does. What are you worried about anyway? It’s not like she’s going to claim me or something.”

Sigrid Glyvynsdatter could have any man she wanted without such formalities, more’s the pity.

Casey’s expression morphed into concern. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about. I know how you feel about her.”

“Casey, come on.”

“No, Will, seriously. I know how you feel and I don’t want you to get tangled up with her when she’ll never feel the same way.”

He barely hid his flinch. Trust Casey to hit the nail on the head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Sure.”

“Really.” He stood and walked around the desk, then knelt beside her, one hand on the back of her chair, the other on her knee. “I won’t let things get out of hand. You know I won’t.”

“Maybe you won’t be able to help yourself,” she said in a tiny voice. “Maybe she’ll smack some immortal Daughter mojo on you and you’ll forget all your resolutions and I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” he asked gently.

“I’ll lose the best brother I ever had.”

“I’m the only brother you’ve ever had.”

She cut a side-eyed smirk at him. “Yeah, so you’re also the worst, but who’s counting?”

He laughed and smacked a quick kiss to her cheek. “Go on. Get back to work.”

“Can’t keep the customers waiting,” she muttered as she scooted off the chair and stood. “Especially those old as Eve Daughters.”

“Smart ass,” he said, and she grinned and blew a kiss to him, and flounced out the door looking much happier than when she’d entered.

Will dug into the paperwork with a light heart and slogged through as much as he could before the shift change. Five minutes before he was due in the bar proper, he slipped into the employees’ bathroom and changed into his work clothes, a polo with the Omega’s logo embroidered on the front, left-hand side, khakis, and tennis shoes.

Eric Reed, a mundane mortal who tended bar part-time, waved at Will as he stepped into the bar proper. “Hey, man. How’s tricks?”

Will grinned and flipped open the bar’s barrier. “Still doing. Busy lunch?”

Eric shrugged one muscled shoulder. “Good for a Monday in winter. Some new faces today.”

Will grabbed a bar towel and bunched it up in his hands. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, you know.” Eric shrugged again and his brown-gold gaze drifted across the sparse crowd dotting the room. “Young, hot women. Strong as ox men.”

Will followed Eric’s gaze to a table holding two women and a forty-something man, and a quartet of women ranging in age from late teens to matron sitting halfway across the room from the first group. Concern warred with curiosity. Tellowee got its share of People drifting through, but he usually knew most of them or was warned ahead of time. These faces were completely unfamiliar.

He snagged Eric’s elbow and jerked his chin at the newcomers. “You mind hanging around a little longer? I need to go make nice.”

A grin flashed across Eric’s face, contrasting a white smile against his honey colored skin. “Sure, man. I can use the duckies.”

Will tucked the towel into his back pocket and wound his way from behind the bar toward the first group. Their conversation halted as he drew near, and three sets of brown eyes focused on him, razor sharp. He stopped a few feet away and smiled. “Welcome to Tellowee. I’m Will Corbin, the Omega’s manager.”

The man stood, held out a calloused hand, and said in a guttural rumble, “Saul the Beguiler, grandson of Pari Bakhshesh. This is my mother’s sister, Chana Wolfbane, and her Daughter, Favi Soulbleeder.”

Will clasped Saul’s hand and shook it, measuring the other man as he was being measured in return. Saul was lean and tough. His dark eyes were hard flints in an expressionless face. Former military, probably. Most Sons were. If not for his parents’ ownership of The Omega, Will would have given a career in the service serious consideration.

He let go of Saul’s hand and nodded to his two companions. “If you don’t mind my asking, what’s your business here in Tellowee?”

Chana’s tilted eyes regarded him solemnly over a pint of amber brew. “We hoped to renew a recent acquaintance. Jerusha Mankiller?”

Rebecca’s youngest Daughter by birth and a good friend. Jerusha and her now-fiancé Drew Martin had returned from a trip to Turkey not long ago, bearing one set of the Bones of the Just.

Will looked the trio over again and made a snap decision. “My cousin. She lives about an hour from here. You want, I can call her for you, have her come up.”

“Tell her to bring the hottie,” Favi said in a soft, accented voice, and Chana’s mouth quirked into a grin.

Will returned the grin with a saucy wink. “Sure thing. Help yourself to the menu. Today’s on the house.”

Saul’s firm mouth twitched, not quite reaching a smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Let me know if you need anything.”

Chana’s smile turned secretive and her black eyelashes fluttered down, partially covering her beautiful eyes. “Oh, we will, sheereen-am.”

Will left the table smiling and headed toward the other group of visitors, dismissing Chana’s harmless flirtations as soon as he turned away.