Immortals After Dark 05 - Dark Needs at Nights Edge

were wondering whether madness was catching.
    “If there is truly a ghost there, get her to move something,” Murdoch said. “Can she make a door slam? Or rattle something in the attic?”
    “Yes, she can move things with her mind.”
    Sebastian waved him on. “Then by all means... ”
    Conrad glanced from them to her, and back again. “She’s... asleep.” And he couldn’t shake her to get her to wake.
    “Of course she is,” Sebastian muttered. He’d always been the most skeptical of the brothers. Conrad figured that even after three centuries, that hadn’t changed.
    “Damn it, I’m telling the truth.”
    “Yet you can’t rouse her?”
    Conrad considered explaining why she was so exhausted, but thought that would only make things worse.
    Murdoch asked, “Why would we believe you’re seeing a ghost rather than another hallucination? You’re supposed to be bombarded with delusions.”
    “I was. Constantly. I’m not anymore. She’s real.” Right at her ear, he said, “Néomi, wake up!” No response. “Wake up!” he said louder, aware that he appeared to be yelling at the sheet.
    Murdoch had a look on his face as if he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry over Conrad’s actions. Finally, he said, “Kristoff has given word that there will be a battle tonight. So we likely won’t be returning for two days.”
    Nikolai added, “We’ll leave you free run of the property. The refrigerator is filled with weeks’ worth of bagged blood, and I’ll get my wife to stop—”
    “I’ll manage on my own,” Conrad said quickly.
    “Very well.”
    Surprised by the concession, Conrad said, “Free me completely.”
    Nikolai’s gaze went from the newspapers to Conrad’s eyes, and he exhaled. “We can’t. You’ve come too far to relapse. Soon I’m going to ask you to make a decision. A critical one—but you have to be stable.”
    Conrad gave a bitter laugh. “Since when do you ask me to make a decision instead of making it for me?”
    Nikolai’s expression was grave. “Since I lost my brother for three centuries.”

16

    “Are you a betting man, Conrad?” Néomi was surprised her voice wasn’t quavering.
    He’d shaved, fully revealing the striking structure of his lean face. And she’d been given no warning. She’d breezed into the room, then stopped, speechless at the sight of him reclining on the bed.
    Devastating male. And she wondered why she couldn’t stay mad at him.
    He frowned at her reaction. He obviously had no idea of his heart-pounding effect on women. “Depends.”
    Yesterday, once she’d awakened from her lengthy reverie, she’d found a stack of newspapers lying on the floor. He’d gruffly said, “I was able to get some of the ones that had piled up out of your reach.” She thought that for a man like Conrad, this had been on a level with picking flowers for her.
    Though the gesture had softened her, she’d still been hesitant when he’d wanted to stay close by. “Why should I choose to be around you?” she’d asked. “You’re just going to hurt my feelings or start haranguing me for the key again.” The key that she’d stolen from Murdoch and hidden away.
    “My brothers were here earlier,” Conrad had answered. “They said they aren’t returning for two days. There will be a moratorium on the key. And I won’t insult you.”
    Apparently, his brothers had allowed him to remain untied from the bed, with his manacles in front—even after he’d disclosed that there was a ghost living here.
    The idea that he’d had to tell them that he would have gotten the spirit to prove herself, but she was asleep, was too amusing. The image of him yelling at seemingly nothing but a sheet was hilarious.
    She’d decided to give him another chance. Which was why she held a deck of cards this evening. “I challenge you to twenty-one rounds of vingt-et-un. Whoever loses a round has to answer a question, truthfully and completely. Any question whatsoever.”
    He sat up. “Deal.”
    She hovered on the foot of the bed to face him. He had difficulty with the cards because his hands were still chained, but he wouldn’t ask for help. And she had to use her most highly concentrated telekinesis, which would mean she’d have to sleep more. But still they muddled through.
    After he won the first hand, his lips curved, not quite a smile, but she still had to shake herself. “I win.”
    Yes, you do... . In the game of attraction, lips like his should be ruled an unfair