CHAPTER EIGHT
Simon had dedicated himself to Black Swan since the year he’d turned fourteen. First as a student. Then as a vampire hunter. Then as a floating manager, filling the job of sovereign whenever a hunter unit was left in between appointments. He excelled at everything he did and, over the years, became well-known, well-liked, and well-respected.
He’d been Director at headquarters for ten years. It was a job he wanted as much for the location as for the work and the honor. It was ideal for a bachelor because there was little, if any, time for thinking about anything other than the good of the organization and its people. The fact that it required a selfless commitment was never a problem, but Sorcha’s return meant his days of thinking only about himself and Black Swan were over.
One thing about being Director of Black Swan. The gig came with perks. Simon didn’t take advantage of most of them. Didn’t even know what most of them were. But the fact that his apartment occupied half of the top floor of headquarters was a benefit he’d never appreciated more than when he showed Sorcha inside and closed the door behind them.
“So much to tell you,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not sure where to even begin.”
“What do you have to eat?” she asked. “I’ve had no’ a thing but hospital food for a year. As I remember, you’re a good cook.”
He laughed. “I used to be. Haven’t cooked in so long I’d probably make a muddle of it. But there’s a world-class kitchen downstairs that can make you anything you want and bring it up. Just name it.”
“Sea bass?” He nodded. “Fresh spinach salad?” He nodded again and smiled. “Strawberries and clotted cream?”
He picked up a house phone, pushed the kitchen option, and placed her order along with a steak for himself. “Anything else?” he asked her while they were still on the line.
“Tea?”
“Got that here,” he told her. To the kitchen he said, “I have a special guest. So don’t burn anything.” Pause. “No. I know you’ve never burned anything. It was a joke.” Pause. “Yes. I know how to joke.” He hung up.
“We can have tea while we’re waiting for dinner,” he said. He moved into the kitchen to start the kettle. She followed and sat at one of the two bar stools that looked into the kitchen. Simon realized that it was the first time someone other than himself had sat on one of those stools.
“I got no place to be,” she said wistfully. “I mean that literally. I do no’ suppose I can just show up on campus and say, ‘Surprise. I’ve been away for twenty years, but I’d like to finish my thesis now. Oh. I don’t look that old? Well, ’tis the result of a new beauty treatment. Nine pounds ninety-five deducted from your credit card every cycle and you, too, can take decades off. Guaranteed. Or your money back’.”
Simon chuckled. “You might have a career as a comedian.” She didn’t laugh. “Okay. So it’s not funny. But it can be fixed.”
“How?”
“I work for an organization that’s very good at sorting things out.”
She looked around. “Is that what this is? An organization that sorts things out?”
“Before I tell you everything about who I work for and what I do, I need to find out where I stand. With you.”
“What do you mean?”
Simon put teabags into two cups. “What do you take in your tea?”
“You have lemon and cream?”
He looked in his refrigerator. “As a matter of fact, I do,” he said proudly.
She giggled, seeing that he hadn’t had any idea what was in his refrigerator.
When the kettle whistled, he served her tea and sat on the other stool.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said.
“So you did no’ get married?” she asked.
“No,” he said, lips twitching like it might have been a joke.
“Why no’?”
He huffed out a breath. “This is going to sound crazy.”
“Say it anyway. I’ve recently seen things that people would say were impossible. My standards for crazy have shifted considerably.”
“Okay. I know I only knew you for three days.” She nodded. “And it was a long time ago.” He stopped and gave a self-derisive snort. “At least for me.” She nodded again. “But I felt a connection. It got hold of me and wouldn’t let go.”
Sorcha took a jagged breath. Simon could see that her eyes were pinkish and more liquid than usual. “Simon. Do you know anythin’ about fae?”
“I do. Yes. Quite a lot as a matter of fact. I do live in Edinburgh.”
“You know we mate?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“We ne’er know who or when or where. ’Tis a mystery. And a blessin’ when it happens.”
Simon’s shoulders were sagging because he knew what was coming next. “That’s just unacceptable. Why would I have this strong feeling for you if you were intended for somebody else?”
Sorcha looked surprised. “I am no’ intended for somebody else. I’m intended for you.”
Simon’s mouth fell open. “Me? You mean I’m the one? But I thought…”
She shrugged. “Like I said, ’tis a mystery. Sometimes we’re mated to humans. You can no’ hear very well and you do no’ run very fast, but you’re great in a sleepin’ bag.”
Simon set his teacup in its saucer. Pushed his stool out. Stood and pulled Sorcha up and into his arms. “I’m also great in bed.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” She didn’t give him a chance to reply, but pressed in for a smoldering kiss that left little doubt what she had in mind.
When Simon’s doorbell rang, the pair of them were on the sixth-century Heriz rug next to the living room sofa, half-dressed, lips swollen, and faces flushed.
“Just a minute!” Simon shouted.
He was chuckling as he shoved his shirttail into his pants and buckled his belt.
“Where’s the…?” Sorcha asked.
Knowing what she wanted, Simon pointed to the hallway that led to the closest bath. She scurried off to right herself, leaving him to answer the door.
“Would you like dinner served in the dining room, Director?”
“Yes. That would be nice,” he said.
Five minutes later he quietly knocked on the bathroom door. “They’re gone.”
She opened the door, still looking flushed and gorgeous and supremely kissable.
“Dinner first?” he asked tentatively.
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to decide. “The man I’ve craved or the sea bass I’ve craved. ’Tis a near impossible choice.”
“Up to you.”
“Is there a bed in this big beautiful place?”
“Yes. And it’s big and beautiful.”
Simon refused to let Sorcha set the pace. She begged for fast and hard. He took control and insisted on slow and sensual. At one point she threatened physical violence if he didn’t give her his cock immediately. He laughed as he slowly kissed his way down her squirming body, watching her face every inch of the way.
She forgave him.
After she’d enjoyed three orgasms, she said, “Why did you no’ tell me you had real feelin’s for me? When we were at the ring?”
“I was afraid of scaring you away by being too intense too soon.” She laughed. “What’s so funny?”
“I was doin’ the exact same thing.”
“You knew I was your mate?”
“Aye. Right away.” She cupped his face with her hand and kissed the tip of his nose affectionately. “My human.”
“You make me sound like a pet.”
She laughed as she crawled toward him with a gleam of insatiability in her eyes. “’Tis no meant as disrespectful. You’re my mate. That means you’re everythin’ to me. The bond is settlin’ between us and soon I’ll be needin’ you just to keep breathin’.” A shadow passed over her face. “But Simon, you can no’ be unfaithful. ’Tis you for me. Forever.”
“Sorcha. I’ve been faithful to you in my heart for twenty years. Now that I have you here, I’m faithful to you in every way.”
They ate dinner at Simon’s dining table naked, laughing and kissing in between bites of food Sorcha claimed was the best she’d ever had in her life. Then Simon told her everything there was to know about Black Swan.
“So you really were no’ kiddin’? About bein’ a vampire hunter.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s come to my attention recently that I may not be great at, ah, joking.”
“So you think I can get back into grad school?”
“Without question. If that’s what you want.”
“What do you mean, ‘if that’s what I want’?”
“I just mean that you have options. Right here, in this very building you could have access to the records of a very old organization that happens to have been focused on your very study of interest. That is, if you made a commitment to secrecy and took an oath of loyalty. We can always use somebody smart, who can be trusted. Somebody interested in what we do and why we do it.”
Her eyes began to sparkle. “Tell me more.”
Simon woke the next morning to the foreign sensation of somebody sleeping in his bed. He turned his head and smiled to himself. Not a dream.
As he lay awake in the early hours, examining her long lashes fanned against her cheek and the lid movement of REM sleep, he thought about the fact that there were holes in the world. Holes that led to places where people shouldn’t be and stole lives away.
They were exactly the sort of menace that was the concern of Black Swan.