Elizabeth and Christian?”
“They are—at the country estate,” Sebastian said quickly. What the hell was the name of that old place?
“At Rothmere ?”
That was it. “Yes. Remember, Christian took Elizabeth there, because her friend was having a house party?”
Rhys frowned, obviously trying to recall. “ Elizabeth is always attending this or that. I cannot keep track.”
Sebastian took a swallow of his scotch. This was too weird. Who knew a vampire could even get amnesia, but that appeared to be exactly what Rhys had.
Rhys walked over and turned on the floor lamp beside a tan, overstuffed chair.
Sebastian watched him closely, expecting him to react to the whole concept of electric lights—an invention they didn’t see until the late 1800s, nearly fifty years after their undeaths .
But Rhys didn’t react. He sat down and refilled his glass. He held up the decanter to Sebastian.
“Please,” Sebastian said. He was going to need a couple drinks to grasp what was going on here. It was on the tip of his tongue to remind Rhys what he was, but he hesitated. Rhys was calm, content—unlike he’d been in centuries. Perhaps it was better to let him remain blissfully oblivious for a while longer. At least until Sebastian understood more of what had happened to him.
“Jane is far more perfect than I could have hoped for.” Rhys sighed and leaned back in the chair.
“Yes.”
“I must admit, though, I do not seem to recall how she got here. Nor do I remember last night.”
“You’ve forgotten a good bit more than just last night,” Sebastian said wryly, but quickly covered his comment. “You and Christian were celebrating your upcoming wedding before he left with Elizabeth .”
Rhys nodded, readily accepting that explanation. Christian had always been the wildest of the three brothers. He would be the one who would have convinced Rhys to make the party last well over a few days.
They drank silently for a few moments, and Sebastian tried to figure out what he should do about this. Maybe he should talk to some of the other vampires that frequented his nightclub. Maybe one of them had heard of this disorder. And he would definitely ask about any rogue vampires in the city—a vampire who was attacking other vampires.
“Upcoming wedding?” Rhys asked, suddenly. “Jane and I are not wed already?”
Sebastian shook his head. “No. Jane only got here last night.”
“Good Lord, you mean to say, she got off the ship, and I herded her straight into my bed and compromised her? While I was drunk, no less?”
Sebastian blinked. This was just way too weird.
“She seemed agreeable to it.”
Rhys shook his head, his eyes dark with self-reproach. “That is simply not how one treats their intended. And the wedding will obviously have to happen as soon as possible. I cannot have her reputation in tatters because I was a randy, soused caper-wit.”
Randy, soused caper-wit
? Did they really ever talk like that?
“Sebastian,” Rhys said, drawing Sebastian’s attention back from the oddities of the English language. “I intend to keep Jane. To find happiness with her.”
At first, Sebastian found Rhys’s wording strange.
Keep her
.
But his attention was immediately drawn back to Rhys as a wave of overwhelming need flooded the room. Then it was promptly replaced by a devastating, heartbreaking sense of loss that seemed to weight the air and crush Sebastian.
Sebastian blinked, forcing himself to focus on his brother, realizing the emotions came from him.
Rhys stared straight ahead, his eyes distant, almost as if lost in a trance.
Sebastian started to ask Rhys what was wrong. But before he could get the words out, images began to bombard his brain like a rapid-fire slide show. Visions
of Elizabeth . And Christian. Other things from their pasts.
Sorrow nearly choked Sebastian—as the visions continued at a speed that offered only brief glimpses of lives now lost.
And just when Sebastian thought he
“They are—at the country estate,” Sebastian said quickly. What the hell was the name of that old place?
“At Rothmere ?”
That was it. “Yes. Remember, Christian took Elizabeth there, because her friend was having a house party?”
Rhys frowned, obviously trying to recall. “ Elizabeth is always attending this or that. I cannot keep track.”
Sebastian took a swallow of his scotch. This was too weird. Who knew a vampire could even get amnesia, but that appeared to be exactly what Rhys had.
Rhys walked over and turned on the floor lamp beside a tan, overstuffed chair.
Sebastian watched him closely, expecting him to react to the whole concept of electric lights—an invention they didn’t see until the late 1800s, nearly fifty years after their undeaths .
But Rhys didn’t react. He sat down and refilled his glass. He held up the decanter to Sebastian.
“Please,” Sebastian said. He was going to need a couple drinks to grasp what was going on here. It was on the tip of his tongue to remind Rhys what he was, but he hesitated. Rhys was calm, content—unlike he’d been in centuries. Perhaps it was better to let him remain blissfully oblivious for a while longer. At least until Sebastian understood more of what had happened to him.
“Jane is far more perfect than I could have hoped for.” Rhys sighed and leaned back in the chair.
“Yes.”
“I must admit, though, I do not seem to recall how she got here. Nor do I remember last night.”
“You’ve forgotten a good bit more than just last night,” Sebastian said wryly, but quickly covered his comment. “You and Christian were celebrating your upcoming wedding before he left with Elizabeth .”
Rhys nodded, readily accepting that explanation. Christian had always been the wildest of the three brothers. He would be the one who would have convinced Rhys to make the party last well over a few days.
They drank silently for a few moments, and Sebastian tried to figure out what he should do about this. Maybe he should talk to some of the other vampires that frequented his nightclub. Maybe one of them had heard of this disorder. And he would definitely ask about any rogue vampires in the city—a vampire who was attacking other vampires.
“Upcoming wedding?” Rhys asked, suddenly. “Jane and I are not wed already?”
Sebastian shook his head. “No. Jane only got here last night.”
“Good Lord, you mean to say, she got off the ship, and I herded her straight into my bed and compromised her? While I was drunk, no less?”
Sebastian blinked. This was just way too weird.
“She seemed agreeable to it.”
Rhys shook his head, his eyes dark with self-reproach. “That is simply not how one treats their intended. And the wedding will obviously have to happen as soon as possible. I cannot have her reputation in tatters because I was a randy, soused caper-wit.”
Randy, soused caper-wit
? Did they really ever talk like that?
“Sebastian,” Rhys said, drawing Sebastian’s attention back from the oddities of the English language. “I intend to keep Jane. To find happiness with her.”
At first, Sebastian found Rhys’s wording strange.
Keep her
.
But his attention was immediately drawn back to Rhys as a wave of overwhelming need flooded the room. Then it was promptly replaced by a devastating, heartbreaking sense of loss that seemed to weight the air and crush Sebastian.
Sebastian blinked, forcing himself to focus on his brother, realizing the emotions came from him.
Rhys stared straight ahead, his eyes distant, almost as if lost in a trance.
Sebastian started to ask Rhys what was wrong. But before he could get the words out, images began to bombard his brain like a rapid-fire slide show. Visions
of Elizabeth . And Christian. Other things from their pasts.
Sorrow nearly choked Sebastian—as the visions continued at a speed that offered only brief glimpses of lives now lost.
And just when Sebastian thought he
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