Page 116 of Golden Eagle

“Yes. Sort of.Yes.” Much made a face, clearly frustrated with his own inability to explain. “It’s like…” He shook the hair off his face, and his expression grew thoughtful, pale brows drawing together. Then epiphany struck, brows going up, line of tension smoothing from between them. “It’s like you walk into a house, and you know it’s occupied.”

Sasha’s eyes widened.

“It’s like that feeling when you walk in, and you can’t see anyone, but you can feel that someone’s there. Someone who’s your family.” Much’s voice warmed and animated as he spoke, the barest hint of a smile teasing at his mouth. It lent him a cherubic aura. “You can smell that they’ve passed through the room, and you can sense their heartbeat on a different floor, and you can feel that you aren’t alone. Rob calls it ‘the hand on the nape of your neck.’ It’s nice.”

“It sounds nice,” Sasha breathed, his lips parted, his body very still. “Does he ever command you?”

“No. Not like that. I mean, he directs us, because he’s our king, and our leader, but he doesn’tforceus to do things.”

“Has he ever been…tempted to?”

“Pffft. No.” Much shifted, and tucked his hair behind both ears. He’d relaxed; was speaking person-to-person, rather than quipping. “He’s not one ofthosevampires. You’re either the kind of asshole who likes to force people to do things, or you’re not. That’s not even about vampire: that’s just about being a fucking dickhead. Rich isn’t that way, and neither is yours, even if he is a miserable prick.”

“Hey,” Sasha protested.

Much rolled his eyes. “He’s a miserable prick for telling you ‘no.’ Or else just stupid.”

Sasha bared his teeth in a fast snarl. “Stubborn and honorable,” he corrected.

Much stared at him, unruffled, and finally snorted a laugh that had Sasha relaxing. “Sure, sure. Whatever. My point is: being bound is good. And it’s a lot better than being fair game for one of the vampires that would actually order you around. If Nikita can’t see that, then he really is stupid.”

Sasha chuffed unhappily. “It’s different for us. It wouldn’t just be vampire and Familiar. We’re…not just friends,” he said, awkwardly, flushing.

“Heh.” Much’s gaze went narrow and sly. “Then you should be asking Will about what it’s like to be bound.”

“Really?” Sasha said, and sounded nearly delighted.

“Plenty of vampires take their Familiars as lovers,” Much said, shrugging. “Will’s unmated, amenable, and pretty.” Another shrug. “When Rich wakes up, he’s always hungry in more ways than one.”

Sasha sat staring at the far side of the van, expression not just thoughtful, but excited, too.

Trina felt a little pang. He and Nikita had isolated them not just from society, but from their own kind. Despite what they’d learned over the years, there was clearly plenty they didn’t know about the nature of immortal relationships.

“Tell him to suck it up,” Much said, turning back to his computer. “Besides: didn’t you kill your last master? If Nikita’s too much of a douchebag, you could always just ignore him.”

~*~

“Alright,” Much’s voice crackled through the walkie. “That’s all I can get off your location. Unless you want to go in deeper...”

Will cast a glance toward Nikita, considering, then shook his head. “Negative. We can’t make life in New York miserable for our friends.” Will pulled the magical flash drive, pocketed it, and turned for the door.

Nikita caught him with a look. “What would you have done if we weren’t here?” He said it like a challenge, and meant it as one.

That earned another considering glance. Will said, “I would very much like a chance to speak with Red’s brothers. See if there’s any way to reach them through whatever nonsense this place has filled their poor, impressionable young heads with. If they’re as powerful as she is, then they’d be great assets to our cause.”

“Assets.”

“You think me callous.”

“I think we took a very big risk coming in here just for a little security footage. And I still don’t trust you.”

A sound at the door. The handle jiggling as someone tested it.

Nikita whirled, muscles tensing for a fight. It was a struggle to push the urge for violence down, and draw instead on hypnotism. His first instinct would always be to shoot, to grapple, to stab. His mind was not a weapon he reached for automatically.

Alexei and Dante had backed up, so they stood to the side of the door, tense and ready.

Lanny flapped his hands in a useless gesture. “Should I…hold it shut, or something?”

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