Eternal Seduction

He stood up and turned to Kerestyan, a shit eating grin stretched all the way across his face. “I shall dub her, Bones. Henceforth, I shall refer to her by no other means. ‘Tis now her title, she shall wear it well.”



Kerestyan didn’t respond to his brother’s anachronistic declaration. Instead, he pulled a roll of bills from his pocket and tossed it at Odin. “There’s still two hours before sunrise. Would you please go down to the grocery store that’s open all night and buy Logan a few articles of clothing?”



Logan tried as hard as she could to keep the last piece of apple firmly in her mouth when the roll of bills sailed across the room and smacked into Kerestyan’s chest with a hollow thud.



“I am so not going to buy her clothes. I’m your twin, not your bitch.”



Kerestyan glared at him. “I can’t very well do it myself. After witnessing both of you in childish action, by the time I returned, you’d most likely be missing a vital piece of anatomy, she’d be dead, and my home would be in flames.”



Odin gave her a dirty look but smiled at Kerestyan. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He reached out and pinched Kerestyan’s cheek. “But I’m only doing it because my little brother asked so sweet.”



It was a good thing Logan had swallowed her last bite of sandwich; otherwise she’d be choking on it. If for no reason other than the half-appalled, half-murderous look on Kerestyan’s face.



Of course, by the time Odin had walked over to her, snatched the empty plate, unzipped her coat with a quick drop of his hand then wrenched it over her head…she was fairly sure her face mirrored Kerestyan’s with astounding accuracy.



When he grabbed at the hem of her first shirt, she jumped back and smacked his hand. “What the hell are you doing?”



A rather animalistic and equally as unsettling growl rumbled in his throat. “I can’t buy you clothes if I can’t see what size you are. And I swear to God, if you so much as touch me again, I’ll smear you from one end of this penthouse to the other.”



Much to her relief, Kerestyan collared Odin from behind and yanked him back. “Logan, would you be so kind as to strip down to a single layer, please?”



She smiled at him. “Why yes, Kerestyan, because you asked so nicely and didn’t start ripping off my clothes, I’d be more than happy to fulfill your polite request.”



Odin pushed the now laughing Kerestyan away. “You two sarcastic bitches deserve each other.”



By the time Logan had removed shirts one through six, all of which ranged an odd span of colors and sizes, the laughter had faded and both men were staring at her. One mouth hung open while the other formed a thin line of disapproval.



She smoothed the long sleeve of her tight, orange t-shirt. “What? You’ve never seen a woman wear more than one shirt before?”



Odin’s mouth closed and opened a few times before words finally came out. “She’s like a fuckin’ seven layer burrito someone forgot was in the back of the fridge for six months.”



She had to laugh. How could she not with such vivid imagery coming from someone who dressed like he was going on an unholy crusade at any moment? “It’s February in New York. Considering I sleep wherever I can, which is mainly outside or in buildings that don’t have electricity, learning to layer is essential.”



He actually snorted. “So is eating, Bones. Did you ever try that?”



She stepped back when Odin squatted in front of her and moved to poke her, having learned her lesson about smacking him. “Stop it.”



It may have stopped him from touching her, but it didn’t stop him from staring at her chest and abdomen like she was a science project. “I think I can actually see all of her ribs.” He stood up, inhaled a deep breath through his nose then returned to Kerestyan’s side. “You should probably call Vouclade.”



Kerestyan nodded. “Agreed. Are you returning to the castle tonight?”



“Yeah, after I get her the clothes you asked for. Want me to tell him to stop by in the morning?”



“If you would, please.”



Not that she was part of the conversation anymore, but she had to point it out. “It is morning. And because I just have to ask, who’s Vouclade and why is he in a castle?”



Odin grinned. “Not your morning, our morning. Vouclade is our brother, and he’s in the castle because he lives there.”



She squeezed her eyes closed then opened them slowly. “You’re two thirds of triplets?”



This time, it was Kerestyan who smiled at her. “Vouclade is our brother in blood, not birth. Odin and I are brothers in both.”



Logan rubbed a hand down her face. Vampires, castles and blood brothers. What the hell had she gotten herself into?



And where did names like Odin and Vouclade come from?



She splayed her fingers and peeked between them. “I take it you’re named after the Greek God of War, Odin?”



His face scrunched up in a most unattractive way. “What is this, mix and match mythology hour? Do I look Greek to you?” She didn’t have time to answer. “I’m a fucking Norseman, not some Greek pussy.” He fisted a hand and slammed it against his chest plate. “I wasn’t named after Odin, I am Odin.”



She dropped her hand, eyes immediately jumping to Kerestyan as if she needed his affirmation. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”



He raised a hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “I assure you, he was only worshiped as a God because of his supernatural abilities.”



Logan stared between the twins. As if her night hadn’t already taken a surreal turn, now she had to find a way to digest that she was standing less than five feet away from a revered mythological figure?



Maybe memory removal wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.



Odin smacked Kerestyan on the back of the shoulder hard enough the crack echoed through the room. “I’m gonna go get Bones some clothes. While I’m gone, I’d suggest a bath. Oh, and don’t forget to give her a razor. Lord knows how much bush she’s grown since the last time she used one.” Then, right in front of her all too sober eyes, he disappeared into thin air.



In the moment immediately following, Logan felt as though she’d taken the strange train to Vampireville. Human population: one lonely addict.



Unwilling to consider the thought any further, she gathered her shirts and coat then glanced up at Kerestyan, who was already watching her. “Where should I put these?”



“Follow me.”



She indulged his request and stayed close as he moved through the doorway he’d used earlier. A short hallway brought them to the kitchen, which much like the living room was decorated in dark colors and rather large. All the expected appliances were present, along with a few she didn’t recognize.



Another longer hallway opened at the back of the kitchen, four doors lined either side spaced about twenty feet apart, while a single door ended the hall roughly a hundred feet away. More art decorated the walls, only now it was in the form of paintings. Most were of older city scenes, and she was willing to bet not a single one was American.



He stopped in front of the third door on the right, pushed it open, and then turned around to face her. “This will be your room for the duration of your stay. A full bathroom adjoins it, so you should have all the privacy you need. There’s a range of toiletries in the cabinet under the sink, feel free to use whatever you please.”



Logan peered into the room, wondering whether what was happening to her was really all that bad. Huge wasn’t even the right word to describe it, and luxurious barely did it justice. She inched inside when he stepped back and motioned towards the door. If he’d looked out of place standing in the alley, right now she had to be returning the humorous image tenfold.



The large bed, a striking vision of cobalt blue velvet and silver silk, set angled in the left corner at the back of the room. Ornate chests, mirrors and dressers, all made of blackened woods and glass were scattered about. And the thick, black carpet actually squished under her feet as she slowly crept farther into the room.



She was definitely the odd one out now, with her arms full of clothes equally as dirty as the ones she still wore, and just as wet.



It wasn’t until she heard a door close in the hallway that she realized Kerestyan had left her. She turned around just in time to see his large frame fill the doorway, dark fabric draped over one of his forearms, lips slightly upturned at the corners.



“Do you like the room?” he asked.



Truthfully, it wasn’t her style, but she’d never say it wasn’t beautiful. She also wouldn’t deny it had a uniquely aged appeal. “It feels really old.”



“It is. Well, not the room itself, but everything inside.” His firm lips stretched into a full smile. “Including me.”



She considered his position, leaning against the door frame. “Technically, you aren’t in the room.”



He chuckled. “Let’s not argue semantics. I do that on an almost nightly basis with Odin.” He slid the mass of black fabric down his arm and held it out for her. “I brought you something to wear after you bathe. I apologize if they swallow you, but there’s a marked difference in our stature.”