Lucern scowled back. "I do not need to be looked after."

"You-"

"Kate," Chris interrupted. "It's getting late. If you still want to go to Bobbi's kick-off party, you should probably-"

"Oh, d.a.m.n!" Kate glanced at her watch. She seemed to forget all about Lucern and asked her coworker, "Where did you put my stuff? It's a Western theme. I have to change."

"I put it in that room." Chris pointed to a door on their right. "I figured if you didn't like it, we could shuffle later."

Kate merely nodded. Rushing into the room, she slammed the door behind her. Chris just shook his head.

Lucern scowled after Kate. If she expected him to go to this party, she had another think coming. He had no intention of going to a Western themed party after just flying in.

"So, I guess it's you and me tonight, Luc," Chris said cheerfully. Lucern suddenly rethought the party. Kate would be there. Not this guy.

"Why are you here?" he asked the male editor.

Chris grinned. "I'm supposed to keep you safe. When Kate can't be around. Like tonight."

"Keep me safe?" Lucern echoed. "From what?" Chris pursed his lips and considered. Then he grinned. "You've never been to a Romantic Times conference, have you, Luc?"

Lucern shook his head. He gave a start of surprise when Chris clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the bar in the corner. "Let's have a drink while I tell you. You're going to need it."

Lucern fretted as he watched Chris pour the gla.s.s of Scotch he requested. He was beginning to believe this conference would be even more of a pain than he'd feared.

"There you are." Chris handed him his drink. The editor then gestured for them to move to the couch, which was set against the walled window.

Lucern moved toward it, suddenly thinking how hungry he was. "Was there a package delivered here for me?"

"Not that I know of. I'm sure they would have mentioned it when I signed in," Chris answered. He settled in the room's one chair, leaving the couch to Lucern. "But then, I don't know that your name is registered for this room."

Lucern stiffened. Was he not to be the man in any of these situations?

The bedroom door Kate had disappeared through suddenly opened, and she rushed out. Lucern automatically got to his feet at her entrance, forgetting about his hoped for blood delivery. He gaped at the woman. She was wearing the tightest pair of hip-hugging jeans he had seen in all his born days. They were complemented by knee-high cowboy boots, a checkered shirt, a fringed suede jacket, and a cowboy hat that looked like it had seen rough use. She looked s.e.xy as h.e.l.l.

"Katie," Chris called. "Did you put Lucern's name on the room?"

Kate glanced over with surprise. "Of course not. I was afraid someone might connect the names Lucern Argeneau and Lucern Argentus and figure out this was his room. The whole idea of this suite was so that none of his fans could find him. Why?"

"Luc was expecting a delivery. I guess they would have turned it away if they didn't think he was here."

Kate turned an apologetic gaze on Lucern. "Sorry. Just call and have them deliver it to my name. Okay?"

Lucern nodded slowly, his eyes feasting on her. She blushed under his perusal, then said, "I'll try not to be out late.

Chris will look after you until I get back. Anything you want, he's the man to go to, okay?"

Lucern nodded again, his tongue stuck on the roof of his mouth.

"Chris." She turned her attention to her coworker. "Make him watch some TV. Maybe he can update the way he speaks by watching it."

The other editor laughed. "Katie, dear, if watching television hasn't changed his speech before now, one night is hardly going to do it."

"He doesn't have a TV," she explained dryly. "At least, I didn't see one." She turned a curious gaze to Lucern. "Do you have one?"

He shook his head. Television, in his opinion, rotted the brain.

"I didn't think so," she said with satisfaction. She instructed her friend "Make him watch it. I'll see you guys later."

Both men were silent until the door closed behind Kate. Lucern sank back onto the couch.

"Why did you stand?" Chris asked curiously.

"A lady had entered the room," Lucern answered absently. His vision was still full of Kate the cowgirl. He usually preferred women in more feminine dress, but there had been nothing masculine about Kate in that outfit.

"You're kidding about the TV, right?" Chris asked. "Do you really not have one?"

"No. Never have."

"Man!" Chris picked up the remote control off the table. Lucern recognized it; he had one for his stereo system at home. This was to the television. The editor clicked it and grinned. "You're in for a treat, Luc. You're gonna love television."

Lucern grimaced. He very much doubted that he would love television. He was more a theater type of guy. Old habits died hard.

Chapter Eight.

Lucern loved television. He didn't know why he had allowed prejudice to prevent him from at least trying it before now. TV was a marvelous invention. It was like a mini-stage with little players. And what players! In the last three hours he had watched a movie by some guy named Monty Python... or had that been the character?

Anyway, they'd watched that first. When it ended, Chris had looked through a television guide and cried, "Yeah! A Black Adder marathon!" And they'd been watching that ever since. It was a grand show! Marvelous and amusing.

Lucern hadn't laughed so hard in years.

"They have history all mixed up, but it is quite amusing," he announced, reaching for a fresh beer from the six-pack on the coffee table.

Chris burst out laughing, then stopped abruptly, his eyes going wide. "Oh, shoot! Kate's going to kill me!"

Lucern arched his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because I was supposed to make you watch modern American television, to help with your speech." He pondered for a minute before shrugging. "What the h.e.l.l. It's kind of late in the game to change your speech, anyway."

Lucern nodded absently. The mention of Kate made him remember her accusations of earlier. She had said he spoke in old-fashioned ways. Lucern supposed he did; it was hard to change speech patterns. He'd been born in Switzerland in 1390. His parents had moved around a lot in those days, but that was where he'd been conceived and born. They had subsequently moved back to England, and he had learned to speak using the King's English. Despite all the countries he had lived in since, and all the languages he had learned and spoken, he still did and probably always would bear a slight accent and lean toward speaking the way he'd been taught.

What else had she said? He recalled something about an angel. That he looked like an angel wannabe? What did that mean exactly? Her voice had been too snarly for it to be a compliment. His gaze shifted from the TV screen to Chris. "Who, or what, is an angel wannabe?"

Chris turned a blank expression on him. "Huh?"

"Kate said I looked like an angel wannabe," Lucern reminded him. Understanding immediately lit the young editor's face. "Oh, yeah. Well, you know. Angel. Buffy and Angel? Vampire slayer and vamp? Oh, that's right. You don't watch TV, so you wouldn't know," he said finally. "Well, Angel is this vampire, see. And he is, or was, Buffy the Vampire Slayer's boyfriend. But he has his own show now."

"Vampire slayer?" Lucern asked with dismay. Did they still have those? Dear G.o.d, he had thought that craze had died out a century or so ago. Life had been pretty tense for a bit. He and his family had had to be terribly cautious-or more so than usual. They had always had to be cautious. Their natural proclivities had made them a target many times over the centuries. Many had been burned at stakes as witches during the Inquisition, and when Stoker had come out with his d.a.m.ned book, vampire slayers had popped up everywhere. It had been a d.a.m.ned nuisance. And scary, too.

His family had only really begun to relax since the advent of blood banks, which had lessened both vampires hunting and being hunted. Now it seemed to be a false security. There were still slayers out there.

Well, there was nothing he could do about it at the moment, though he meant to warn his family. He would mention it to Bastien when his brother called back.

Lucern moved on to the other accusation Kate had made. "What did Kate mean by my being named after a dairy product?"

"Oh." Chris made a face. "Lucern is a dairy company here in the States."

"A dairy company?"

"Yeah, you know-milk, cottage cheese, ice cream," Chris explained in exasperation.

"I know what dairy products are," Lucern said testily. "But I am not named after dairy products."

"So what are you named for?" "The lake in Switzerland where I was conceived."

Chris nodded. "I think I've heard of it. But doesn't Lake Lucerne have an e on the end?"

"Yes, well... I think my mother thought the e made the name feminine. She took it off."

"Ah." Chris nodded again. "It's a cool name. Don't let what Kate said bother you. She's just a little testy lately.

Working too hard or something." He gestured to the pizza box on the table. "Is there any left?"

Lucern leaned over and saw that there were still two slices of the meat-eater's special they'd ordered. He took one, then handed the box to Chris.

Besides television, pizza was something else he'd never tried. It wasn't something served in the gourmet restaurants he frequented. Lucern was beginning to think that his sn.o.bby ways had been making him miss out on many pleasures he might truly enjoy. He had never been a great fan of beer, but it had a nice bite to it with pizza. It went even better with the peanuts Chris had run out to buy. It had been kind of fun, too, cracking the peanut sh.e.l.ls and strewing them all over the place.

Lucern peered at the coffee table with interest. It was awash in empty beer cans, peanut sh.e.l.ls, used paper plates and napkins. He had at first tried to clean up as they ate, his fastidious nature kicking in, but Chris had told him to just stop, he was blocking the TV. Now Lucern found himself rather comfortable amid the mess.

His gaze slid curiously to his companion. Kate's editor friend was an interesting fellow, mostly good-tempered but with a caustic wit at odds with his youth. Lucern had learned the man was in his late twenties-a babe to his own advanced years, though the editor would probably resent him thinking so. Despite that, Lucern was enjoying his company.

He had, though, found himself looking at the man's neck a lot the last hour or so. Now that he had eaten regular food, and satisfied his more natural hunger, the missing blood delivery was beginning to gnaw at Lucern. He had called Bastien twice from his bedroom but got no answer either time. His brother was never home! But that was Bastien's nature.

His younger brother worked hard, played hard, and ran on staggered hours, sometimes braving the day to work, sometimes working nights at the family company. Bastien was the son who had taken up the reins of Argent, Inc. after their father's death. Lucern had never been interested. He'd always preferred the arts, alternating between painting and writing the last couple hundred years.

In contrast, Bastien had always enjoyed the wheeling and dealing of business. The boy had worked in the family company most of his adult life, and he was good at it. Bastien was the one who had convinced their father to diversify from farming and shipping to production in the eighteenth century. He was also the one who had decided they should move into feeding from blood banks. Bastien was an innovative thinker.

He was also d.a.m.ned hard to keep track of. The family business often took him on unexpected trips to foreign countries for indefinite periods. Lucern often couldn't be sure of where his younger brother was or when he would be back. Bastien might simply have been out to dinner when he called, or he might be on his way to Europe to handle a problem at the head offices. Whatever the case, he would get Lucern's message and return the call sooner or later. But Lucern was hungry now.

His gaze slid to Chris's throat again. The editor had a good healthy pulse. Lucern could probably get a pint out of him without harming the fellow. Of course, it would be alcohol-soaked blood, he realized unhappily. And his own blood had a goodly portion of alcohol in it already. He frowned, but his gaze stayed fixed on the other man's neck.

Chris laughed at something that had happened on the latest Black Adder skit. Lucern didn't look toward the television; he hungered.

The craving for blood was nothing like that for food. It was somewhat similar to thirst, but wasn't just a dry mouth. It affected his whole body. His skin seemed to be shriveling and aching with want of nourishment.

He knew it wouldn't be as bad right now if he hadn't been out in the sun. The walk from the car into the airport had been a short one, but the airport was all gla.s.s and he'd had an aisle seat on the plane. So he'd been unable to close the window shade. He had been stuck with the sun shooting in the window and striking him. The sun was dangerous to his sort. It caused damage in everyone, of course, people of his own race and humans, too. But his body, his blood, was constantly repairing that and other daily damages, and the sun's rays could do a lot, using up his reserves at an accelerated pace and leaving him dangerously dehydrated, bringing a thirst that no amount of water would cure. Only blood. "What are you doing?"

Chris's question made Lucern realize that he had stood and moved around behind the other man. The editor twisted in his seat, peering back at him curiously.

Nothing. I am sitting on the couch. Watch the show, Lucern commanded, slipping inside the man's mind with little effort and taking control.

"Watch the show," the editor echoed, and turned back in his seat.

Lucern smiled. He hadn't lost the ability to slip inside another's mind and take control. His inability to do so with Kate had made him worry that he had forgotten how. He hadn't, of course. Which meant that Kate was one of those strong-minded and strong-willed individuals his mother swore were the...

Lucern pushed the thought away. Thinking of Kate at this moment stirred guilt in him. He was contemplating dining on her coworker, after all, and knew she would not be pleased.

His gaze narrowed on the man sitting before him, and he quickly sifted through the editor's thoughts, looking for anything regarding Kate. He was relieved to find little but friendship and affection. Chris and Kate were not now nor never had been in any sort of relationship. This was good. Lucern liked the young man. He wouldn't have liked him nearly so well had he been romantically involved with Kate.

Lucern proceeded to blank out Chris's thoughts, forcing him to concentrate only on the Black Adder show. He would be unaware of Lucern, who touched the top of his head and tilted it to the side to allow him better access to the carotid.

Lucern bent forward. He would only have a little nibble, take just enough blood to quench the worst of his thirst.

Just a little.

Kate stepped off the elevator and started down the hall with relief. She had spent the last several hours involved in shop talk, encouraging, a.s.suring and praising her various writers at the party. All of them were wonderful women, but they had little personal contact with her, so when they got the chance to see her in person they were all rather needy. Though enjoyable, the encounters were mentally and emotionally exhausting, and Kate couldn't wait to get back to the suite and relax.

She thought of Lucern. Taking off her hat, she ran her hands unhappily through her hair. She had been unnecessarily mean to him earlier. Her only excuse was frustration and weariness. She was frustrated because she'd managed to get the man here to the conference and was now worried it would do more damage than good. And she had worked late hours the last month trying to get ahead so her absence this week at the Conference would not be a problem. Added to that, she had been nervous the entire time, worrying over whether Lucern would show up or not.

Kate sighed to herself and dug around in her pocket for her room key. She would be extra nice to him to make up for her earlier irritability. After all, it wasn't his fault he was named after dairy products, was as pale as death half the time or spoke in such an old-fashioned way. He had been tricked into giving his word to come, then had kept it. He wasn't all bad. He was...

A pervert! That was Kate's first thought upon opening the door to the three-bedroom suite. She couldn't believe her eyes. She wasn't even sure at first as to what she was witnessing. Chris was sitting in the chair, and Kate would almost have believed he was watching television, except Lucern was bent over him, an arm around his shoulder and trailing down his chest as he buried his face in the editor's neck.

Kate gaped in honor. Lucern Argeneau was gay: And he was making a pa.s.s at her coworker!

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?"

Lucern straightened abruptly and whirled to face the door where Kate stood gaping. His first thought was, uh-oh.

His second was that it was a d.a.m.ned shame she was resistant to mind control, because he would have used it on her.

Then the phone rang.

Lucern took a moment to reinforce his control over Chris so that the editor wouldn't hear or see what was going on; it was better not to free his mind until Lucern knew how he was going to explain this. Then, since Kate seemed incapable of moving at the moment, he left her standing by the door and walked into his bedroom to answer the phone. He was hoping it was Bastien. As he'd hoped, it was his brother's voice on the line. Though the timing sucked. If his brother had called half an hour earlier, Lucern might have been able to control his bloodl.u.s.t and avoided the scene in the other room. How the h.e.l.l was he going to explain this to Kate?

"Lucern? Lucern!"

He gave up and turned his attention to Bastien. "Where are you?" he asked.