Dyson usually knew when he was being watched from the shadows at a night club.
These two watchers were just anybody. They’d had centuries of practice blending in.
“He reminds me of you,” Duncan MacLeod muttered under his breath. “The fair hair, the jacket. I bet he’s a cop like you were. He may even work with Jenny.
“He may.” Contrary to her father’s melancholy prediction that his child would be anything other than a cop, Jenny Schanke had followed in her father’s footsteps, much to Myra’s consternation. “He’s got an accent a bit like yours.”
“Scottish?” Duncan’s interest was piqued. His hearing wasn’t as good as Nick’s.
“Definitely.” Nick grinned back at him. “Maybe he’s our love child.”
“Ha ha,” Duncan said, half-amused, half-annoyed. Neither vampires nor immortals could have children. There had been some interesting adoptions which turned into something like mortal family bonds.
Connor had adopted a mortal child. She’d lived to a ripe old age until an ancient enemy got her.
Duncan used to have Ritchie until a demon tricked Mac into getting him.
Strong motivations for thinking before adopting. Not that Connor ever regretted Rachel. Not that Mac regretted Ritchie.
“Who’s the attractive blond flirting with him?” Duncan changed the subject by nodding at the leggy woman at the bar next to Dyson.
“She’s not flirting.” Nick’s grin crumbled a little around the corner. “That’s Dr. Lauren Lewis. I think Nat showed me an article written by her last time we spoke.”
“You and Dr. Lewis?” Mac was careful to keep any levity out of his voice. “Or you and Nat?”
“I’ve never met Dr. Lewis.” A deliberately vague way of admitting that he’d seen Nat.
Duncan lay a hand on his shoulder. “Give her time. You’re both immortal now. Katherine will take good care of her.”
“I know.” Nick leaned his head back in one of the unconsciously seductive gestures which maddened Nat.
Duncan remembered the former coroner reminscing about gestures with mingled wistfulness and annoyance while Mac and Katherine kept pouring her whiskey.
It wasn’t like he didn’t appreciate her feelings.
“And a romance between a doctor and a werewolf detective is doomed from the start.” Duncan MacLeod observed the attractive blonde giving Dyson a half-smile. “It’s not like that’s going to stop it from happening.”
“No, it won’t.” Nick Knight offered the dark-haired Scot a slight smile. “Something else will stop it. Or perhaps I should say someone else?”
Almost as if in response to his statement, a couple of attractive brunettes strode toward the bar. One was a petite Goth girl with a doll-like face and a sarcastic eye roll. The other was almost perky in spite of dark attire with a bright smile and cleavage which distracted many an eye.
Both Dyson and Dr. Lewis were among the distracted.
“Dr. Lewis is not Dyson’s romantic interest.” Nick winked at Mac. “She’s his romantic rival.”
Man found himself staring at the two women, the way they leaned their faces close together, dark hair and fair framing shy smiles. “Is it getting hot in here?”
“In more ways than one,” Nick nodded as the dark-haired woman turned to face a smile at Dyson.
Duncan didn’t need a vampiric sense of smell to catch a whiff of the sexual tension, arousal, and faint jealousy coming off the other Celt.
“Whenever I’ve been in this sort of a situation, it’s ended badly.” Mac gave Nick a sidelong glance. “As it has for you.”
Nothing like a jealous vampire ancient to put an end to a love triangle. Mac was more than a little relieved his own ancient lover wasn’t as jealous.
Or if Methos was, he’d be inclined to head off somewhere else for a weekend. Amanda seldom stayed longer than a weekend. As for other lovers, Duncan hadn’t seen most of them for a while.
Life of an Immortal. You came into someone’s life, you dallied, you left to take a head. Or yours wasn’t taken. You avenged those you were fond of. You saluted the killer of those you weren’t, one hand on your blade in case they wanted you next.
It was a Game two women Nicholas de Brabant loved had become involved with, due to drawing Immortal breath.
Fortunately Duncan, Katherine, and Kyra were there for those women. Natalie was off training with Katherine while Tracy had disappeared with Kyra.
It was a Game Nicholas had been kept unaware of until Duncan decided to tell him about it.
Nick’s unlife wasn’t one unrelenting Game of combat, but there were games and a measure of looking over your shoulder. Not to mention just as much bloodlust if not more.
One of the great loves of Nick’s life had taken one of the great loves of Duncan’s life, making her part of this world of night.
Being Duncan’s lover had made Tessa Noel a danger magnet, plus her beauty had always attracted predators. This time, her beauty saved her life, not to mention her artistic talent.
Janette DuCharme had been appreciative of both. Duncan wished she’d informed him of Tessa being a vampire, but he could understand why Tessa’s maker would be protective. Even possessive.
It had been Nick who let him know about Tessa. Nick, who’d once crossed Duncan MacLeod’s path before Mac ever met Michael Moore.
***
This lady leaned close to him. Delicate, dark-haired, yet with a hungry look in her blue eyes which glowed green.
Huh?
Next to her was a man with golden hair, a slightly devilish arch of brow, a sensual mouth from which showed a hint of fang.
Duncan MacLeod much be drunker than he thought.
“Madam.” He leered at the lady, his brogue coming out.
“Sir.” He turned his leer on the gentleman. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”
“I’m afraid we do,” the golden-haired gentleman said in a pleasant way. Really, he was as beautiful as the lady. Except for those fangs.
Wait, the lady had them, too.
Both of them lunged at him.
Duncan felt a sharp pain in both sides of the neck, followed by a languid ecstacy which left him limp, yet made his manhood quiver. The lady and gentleman continued to suck at his neck.
Given that this wasn’t all that unpleasant, he put his arms around both of them.
If he could be snogged and robbed by a cross-dressing English immortal, he could certainly enjoy the kisses of a couple of vampires? Fae?
Duncan passed out before he could decide what his attackers? paramours? were.
***
The electric shock spiced the blood, sizzling through Nicholas. The memories of his victim appeared in flashes. Only they weren’t all his. Fighting, sword duel after duel, bringing down his blade to slice through a neck. Heads rolling. Instead of blood, the stumps spewed lighting.
Lightning bolt after lightning bolt flashed, hit Nicholas, giving a taste of power, the moan of many lives. He felt them with this man. He reached out to hold his hand, to cradle him in his arms.
“Don’t.” Janette released the man, looking down at him in alarm. “Don’t drink any more.”
“Why?” Drugged, dazed, lips still tingling, Nicholas couldn’t let go. “Who is he?”
“Someone we shouldn’t have fed upon.” Janette took a step back. “We allowed our hunger to be titilated by his beauty. If we’d used our senses, we would have known to back off.”
“What are you talking about?” Nicholas asked. “Who is he? What is he?”
“Someone you’re better off not getting to know better. Let him go, Nicolas.” Janette took to the sky, not saying anything more.
Nicholas would have flown after, but he couldn’t let go of the man. He couldn’t leave him here, alive and too weak to defend himself.
He’d caught a glimpse of this man’s soul, his world. Shouldn’t Nicholas de Brabant do the same?
Maybe the intimacy of the bite, the electical images which came with it made him reckless. Still Nicholas bit his tongue.
He leaned forward and kissed the stranger, letting a little trickle of blood enter his mouth. Enough to speed his healing. Enough to give him a little something in return for what he’d shared with Nicholas.
As his lips touched the other man’s, a spark tingled between them, bringing a name. Duncan MaLeod.
***
“I thought you were a dream. For centuries. You and Janette.” Duncan shook his head.
“You met my doppleganger.” This was the part Nick had always found bizarre. “You thought he was me.”
Mac glanced at the vampire. “Why wouldn’t I? He looked exactly the same.”
***
A flash of golden hair brought back memories. A taste of blood. A man’s face, his lips inches from his own.
Duncan was running after him before he could explain to himself why. He caught up with the figure.
“You,” he gasped, grabbing his arm, feeling the familiar buzz of an Immortal’s presence.
“Me,” the man said with the same quirky little smile Mac remembered, yet he tilted his head in a way which lacked the mesmerizing sensuality as the man of his dreams. “Have we met?”
“I thought we had.” Duncan shook his head, baffled. “I guess not.”
“Well, I’m Michael Moore.” The man offered his hand. “Now we have.”
Duncan smiled back and accepted it.
***
“I wish I could have met him.” Again Nick tilted his head back. Disconcerting, not just because of his grace, but because Duncan had cleaved a very similar neck with a sword. “I wonder if his madness wasn’t somehow linked to me.”
“How?” Duncan wondered out loud. “Neither of you knew the other existed.”
“And yet we both knew you.” Nicholas gave Mac a sideways glance. “Funny that.”
***
Michael and Quentin settled uneasily within Duncan, the chaos of seething energy that was Quickening he’d absorbed, power from different immortals.
For a while Tessa quieted the nightmares, the unrest with the softness of her arms, her lips.
Until Tessa died, leaving Duncan to dream of lips upon his body. Sucking his blood, drinking his life. Drinking his Quickening.
He thought he saw Tessa, eyes luminous with green light, reaching her arms out to him.
She became another woman, smaller, more delicate-bonded with dark hair. Her eyes still glowed with greenish light. Her lips were soft with a sly seductive smile, stained with blood.
His blood or Tessa’s? Duncan wondered this with the logic of a dream.
Her lips shaped words he couldn't help but listen to. Listen to and heed. “It’s best if you forget.”
Duncan woke to bright sunlight, an empty bed, and sticky sheets.
Ritchie popped his head in the door. He looked at Duncan and his morning mess. “Must be some dream. I’m not sure if I want to know her name.”
Mac blinked at his student, trying to recall his dream.
There had been a castle. Duncan had been lying in the arms of a woman and a man.
The man had golden hair. Duncan’s blood had been on his lips.
***
“Enough.” The woman slipped out of his arms, softly laughing. “Let’s keep him a secret from LaCroix.”
The man looked at him with an odd tenderness. Greenish quickening crackled between them.
Never had Duncan MacLeod experienced an intimacy like this.
The stranger retreated, walking backwards into the mist of dreams. His lips shaped the same words as the woman’s.
“It’s better if you don’t remember.”
***
Duncan returned to the present, to Nick gazing at him. Not saying anything. One of the things the two men shared was a tendency to get lost in their thoughts, especially memories of the past.
“My memories of you conflict with each other,” Duncan murmured. “Is it because you made me forget after you fed on me? Or Janette did? Or…did Tessa actually visit me?”
“Maybe. To all three questions.” It was Nicholas’s turn to reach out to touch Mac’s arm. “We did blur the memories of those we fed on. The ones we didn’t kill. As for Tessa, I’m guessing she really wanted to see you. She may have done so, in spite of Janette’s efforts to keep her away from you.”
“To keep her away.” Duncan laughed a little bitterly, thinking of the lovely, delicate woman who’d drank his blood, who’d wanted to keep him. Who’d kept Tessa from him.
He glanced over at Dyson, gazing at the dark-haired girl with his heart in his eyes. As did Dr. Lewis.
Rivals. No matter how attractive the lady might be, she kept him from the woman he loved.
Just as Janette kept him from the woman he loved. Just as she’d stopped him from getting any closer to a man he might have loved.
“Mac, we have time.” Nicholas seemed to read his thoughts. “You said the same thing about Natalie, remember? Give her time. Time to adjust to the change. You will see her again.”
“Funny. I thought she was dead. I thought I never would see her again.” Duncan bit his lower lips. “Now that we’re both immortal, we have to wait.”
“Life is filled with humor. Nothing is more hilariously tragic than a fledgling at the mercy of her…or his confusion.” LaCroix chose this moment to appear, loom over Nicholas’s shoulder, place a possessive hand upon it. “Are you sure you should be out, Nicholas? You’ve only recently recovered.”
“I’m fine.” Nicholas gave his master a reassuring smile. “Just seeing how the world has changed.”
“And the fact that yon werewolf works with your beloved Schanke’s daughter has nothing to do with you haunting this bar.” LaCroix gave Nick a pointed look.
“He’s just curious.” Duncan spoke up with a certain belligerence he felt around the master vampire for more reasons than Nick. LaCroix reminded him far too much of Kronos. “Can you blame him?”
“I blame many people for many things.” LaCroix fixed his eerie ice-like gaze upon the much younger Immortal. “Nicholas has a tendency to be drawn to toxic company.”
Tension sizzled between the two men, leaving Nicholas uncomfortably aware of being between them.
Abruptly LaCroix nodded, withdrawing from the bar to find a nearby chair. It hadn’t been empty. One look at the two necking in it sent them scuttling to the dance floor.
“Hello, Lucius.” A slim dark figure draped his arms around the Roman vampire. “What brings you to this fae den of inequity?”
“Trying to appreciate Death in all his glory.” Lucius smiled, blue eyes gleaming with a predatory light. “I caught him once. He slipped from my grasp.”
***
Once again Death appeared on his pale horse, taunting the Roman general with the flutter of his cloak.
Lucius was never one to turn down a challenge. He stirred his horse to follow the figure.
***
“A Roman general.” Kronos looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You must be mad.”
“No, I’m bored.” Methos sighed, waved a hand at the landscape, moving it in the direction of Rome. A merciless empire with merciless soldiers yet a pinacle of civilization. “Don’t you get tired of easy prey?”
“Those who survive us don’t stay weak.” It was a veiled reference to Cassandra, how she’d escaped. How she would doubtless resurface as a greater threat.
Someday she might, but that was future. Methos was in the mood for something bright, hard, and dangerous right now. A game with some risk, different from the Game every Immortal was forced to play.
“I’m hungry, brother.” Methos bared his teeth in an almost provocative challenge. “Hungry for another predator.”
He rode ahead, hearing Kronos lick his lips and sigh. “Always so difficult to satisfy, let alone keep.”
***
The masked riders came out of the mist where Lucius waited for them with a drawn sword.
They circled him, blades in hand.
The one with the black mask was short, compact, with a neat gait. He might have been one of the generals’s own legionnaires.
The white one rode with an almost feminine grace, taunting him with a feminine air, weaving in and out of the fog drifting between them.
“Are we galling you?” Quite a civilized voice this black-masked raider had. “Considering the mess you made of Gaul.”
Lucius chuckled. “I’m always up for sport and a challenging opponent.”
“Are Pestilence and Death challenge enough?” The white one rode closer, taunting him even more. His voice was beyond cultured, almost sensual in its musical cadence. “We wouldn’t want to bore you, General.”
“Nor would you want to be strangers.” Lucius reached out to snatch at the white figure.
He didn’t pull him off his steed, but he did grab his mask, revealing the fine-boned faced, the dark hair spilling out beneath it.
“Far too pretty a face to hide.” The general lifted the mask in his hand. “Even if you are Death.”
“And would you conquer Death, General Lucius?” The pale horse brought his rider close once more. Close enough to touch. “Or would you be conquered by Death?”
He reached out to caress the Roman’s face, bringing his own close. Very close.
Gently, Death brushed General Lucius’s lips with his own, their horses shying beneath them.
While they tasted each other, he snatched the mask from the Roman’s hand.
Laughing Death rode back into the mist, Pestilence following him.
“You taunt me and tease me, Death.” The General licked his lips slowly, savoring the taste of the other man. “No one has been conquered. Yet.”
***
“Death, is it?” Methos leaned closer to the man he used to play such lethal games with in the past. “Even before you became immortal, you were drawn to it.”
“I’ve never been able to forget your face.” Lucius raised a hand to touch one of the few creatures still walking the planet older than himself.
Lips inches away from each, the two men began to laugh.
***
Duncan and Nick just stared at the laughing immortals, Methos sliding off LaCroix’s lap, the vampire holding him there.
“I’ve never seen LaCroix like that with anyone.” Nick gazed at his master with a stillness which seemed a mask as much as anything else.
“Jealous?” The word came out arch, laced with bitterness.
Duncan MacLeod was. Quite jealous. Jealous that Tessa was kept from him. Jealous that LaCroix had such a history with Nicholas and now revealed he had a past with Methos as well.
He and Methos had never been exclusive. The older immortal had a way of slipping out whenever Amanda or any other woman wanted some private time with him.
He’d never asked for the two of them to be exclusive. Just took his piece of Duncan’s life and love when he could.
Mac found himself wondering about the rest of that life. Cassandra had been an ugly surprise as had Kronos.
Now here he was, cuddling up to one of the most ancient and deadly vampires in the world.
A hand reached out to turn his face in his direction.
Duncan found Nicholas’s was inches away, gazing at him. “Are you?”
“Well, aren’t you two the prettiest things I’ve ever seen?”
Amanda sashayed up, arm in arm with the dark-haired Goth girl who’d entered the club with the woman Dr. Lewis and Dyson desired.
“I swear, I could just eat you up with a silver spoon!” She giggled and nudged her companion. “Almost as good as ice cream!”
“Tough competition.” The Goth girl grinned at Amanda, turning her smile on Mac and Nick. “Very close, though. Hi, I’m Kenzi.”
“Kenzi shows a lot of promise. I’d take her under my wing, but she’s joined at the hip with Bo over there.” Amanda nodded at the object of Dyson and Dr. Lewis’s affection.
“Only right now Bo is locked in her eternal love triangle.” Kenzi rolled her eyes, but it was an affectionate eye roll. “Leaving me to take myself elsewhere.”
“Nice to meet you, Kenzi.” Nick flashed a friendly smile at the girl. “I’m Nick.”
“Well, that’s a coinicidence.” Amanda looked him speculatively. “I have a very good friend named Nick, an ex-cop. You wouldn’t happen to be an ex-cop?”
Nick’s grin grew. “How did you guess?”
“Just how many cops do you know named Nick?” Kenzi asked, turning slightly toward Amanda.
“Well, there’s my Nick. I’ve got a couple of friends who each have a Nick.” Amanda cocked her head again at the Nick present. “You wouldn’t happen to know Katherine or Janette by any chance?”
“I’ve known several Catherines. Janette is a very old friend.” Nick leaned against Duncan. “Right now I’m making new friends.”
“And this is Mac.” Amanda reached out to squeeze his arm. “Yummy, isn’t he?”
“Utterly delish.” Kenzi smiled at him in a way which made Duncan throw his head back a little. Nothing like the attention of a beautiful woman to pick up your spirits.
Speaking of beautiful women, the coveted Bo was making her way across the dance floor toward them.
Dr. Lewis had left. Dyson trailed at a bit of distance, fixing his eyes upon Nick and Duncan. He frowned.
Nick allowed a relaxed smile to play upon his lips. Duncan had a bad feeling he was smirking a little.
“Hey, Kenz.” Bo touched the dark-haired girl’s arm. “Dyson has a lead. I thought we’d follow up on it.”
“Are you two detectives?” Nick asked with casual friendliness, still leaning against Duncan.
“We specialize in the weird.” Bo turned the force of that warm smile of hers upon both of them. It was like basking in the sun. “Things the police might not bother with.”
“You seem friendly with the police.” Duncan nodded in Dyson’s direction.
“We help each other from time to time.” Dyson’s voice wasn’t unfriendly, but it was guarded. “Dyson.”
He reached out his hand to Nick.
“Nick Knight.” Nicholas shook his hand, smiling at him.
“Nick Knight.” Dyson stared at him. “There’s a Detective Schanke at my precinct. She says her father worked with a Nick Knight twenty years ago.”
“A different time. A different person.” Nick studied the werewolf. “How is Detective Schanke?”
Dyson paused, studying Nick in turn. “Hard-working. Makes intuitive jumps. Eager to prove herself. Likes doughnuts a lot, even for a cop.”
Nick chuckled. “She takes after her dad.”
Dyson smiled, eyes lighting at the corners. He’d figured Nick out. Figured he was some sort of immortal, even if he thought he was a kind of fae. “Yes, she does.”
Duncan wondered if Dyson remembered Detective Schanke’s father as well, but the werewolf turned to him.
“You’re a highlander, aren’t you?” A glint of something like respect sparked in the werewolf’s eyes.
“Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.” He offered his hand to Dyson.
Dyson took his arm more than his hand in an old ritual greeting. “Well met, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. I met and fought by the side of your kinsman, Connor once. He was a brave man.”
“Yes, he was.” Sorrow filled Mac for a moment, thinking of Connor, his fate. Another friend he’d been forced to fight, whose Quickening churned with him.
The glint of respect in the werewolf’s eyes turned sympathetic. “My condolences.”
He started to turn, glancing at both Nick and Duncan. “It was an honor to meet you both.”
He started walking away.
Bo glanced at him, glanced at everyone else. “Nice meeting you. Guess we’d better go.”
She followed Dyson, running to catch up with him.
“Kenzi, if you ever tire of these people, remember, you can always hang with me.” Amanda glanced at Duncan out of the corner of her eye. “I’ve got some ideas which I think with your delicate touch might turn out to be profitable.”
“Will do, chica.” Kenzi slapped her palm against Amanda’s before flashing a quick grin at everyone else. “See ya.”
She trotted after Bo and Dyson.
“Now what are we going to do about those two?” Duncan and Nick said at the same time in perfect synch. Glancing in the exact same direction of Methos and LaCroix.
Amanda grinned to see it. “Jealous?”
Immortal and vampire groaned as one.