Content: Adult Themes, Adult Language, Nudity, Sex, Nontraditional Relationships, Plot

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Xander Goth looked out at the dark night.

 

Ophelia Villa, the ancestral house of the Goths of Willow Creek where he stood, wasn't actually far - as the raven flew - from the abandoned house where Slim tossed in fitful sleep. It might as well have been in another world. The lives of the wealthy scion of the distinguished Goth family and the impoverished young Creole musician had not yet been pulled together by the inexorable threads of Fate.

 

Though he did not know it, Xander Goth's thoughts were already tangled in those threads.

The Dark Court, the secret society of vampires that lurked in the shadows behind the daylight world, was in chaos. 

 

Count Straud, the Court's most powerful and feared Elder, had not been seen for more than five years. Not since his defeat at the hands of Xander's own niece, Miranda, daughter of his sister, the witch Cassandra Goth. 

 

While the other Elders remained indifferent - after all, what was five years to immortals who had witnessed centuries - some among the vampire Houses dared to whisper that Straud had met his final end.

In his absence his vassals had tried, and largely failed, to lead House Straud and, with it, the Dark Court.

 

Lady Hel, Straud's rebellious 'daughter' (as vampires considered such things), had schemed to claim his seat for herself. If the rumors were to be believed, she'd paid the ultimate price for her ambition.

 

They said that Baron Bludvin, Straud's loyal son, refused to entertain the idea of his master's demise. He remained the faithful steward of the absent Count's House and holdings, but he made no effort to unite the other Houses behind him.

 

Finally, of course, there was Straud's beloved daughter, Lilith. Beautiful, exotic, powerful Lilith. She was Xander's former lover and liege, the master vampire who had brought him across the veil into this world of darkness and blood. Strange as it was for him to imagine, in the eyes of the Elders, Lilith was considered too gentle, too sympathetic to mortals, to be fit to lead House Straud. 

Without strong leaders, the other Houses had started turning on each other. Squabbling and scheming to expand their territories and influence. Taking the opportunity in chaos to indulge in petty rivalries, jealousies and grudges nursed over decades.

 

Xander had been a vampire for less than five years, but he already had enemies. Too many enemies. He'd made his choices. He'd taken his stand. Now, he had to deal with the consequences.

He just worried that he wouldn't be the only one to suffer because of those choices. 

 

"Come back to bed," Morgan said. Xander could smell the warmth of her blood, hear the steady beat of her heart. "You're cold."

 

"I've told you, I don't feel the cold," Xander replied a little sadly. It wasn't entirely true. He did feel cold, and heat, rain and sun. They just didn't touch him they way they touched the living.

 

"You're lying," Morgan said. She knew him too well. Then again, she was his wife. She ought to know him. 

Xander sighed, an unconscious gesture that almost five years of not needing to breathe hadn't completely erased from him. 

 

Turning, he took Morgan's hands. 

 

Naked and still a little flushed from lovemaking, she was beautiful.  Vibrant and so very alive, she was one of the most important things in his world. Her and Victor, their son. He'd been conceived just before Xander's violent death and resurrection and was already showing the strangely macabre wit that was the birthright of the Goths. 

 

Xander would be damned... more damned... if he let anything happen to either of them.

 

"In the morning, I want you to take Victor and go to Windenburg," Xander said. "I want you to stay with your parents. You two should be safe there. Safer than you would be here, anyway."

"You're being all stupid and noble again," Morgan said, a teasing note in her voice.

 

"Morgan, it isn't safe here," Xander insisted. "You heard what Camilla told us. The Court is in chaos. It's only a matter of time before I become a target."

 

"Lilith won't let them..." Morgan began.

 

"Lilith won't protect me," Xander cut her off. "She was very clear about that. I made my choice. I put my mortal family - Cassie, Miranda, you - ahead of my House. As far as the Court is concerned, I'm an outcast with no House to defend me. I'm free game."

 

"He's right," Camilla agreed, the whispered beat of her heart echoing in time with Morgan's.

"I can't believe she'd just abandon you," Morgan said hotly.

 

"She wouldn't have had a choice," Camilla said calmly. "Xander did more than choose his mortal family. Cassie and Miranda are witches, blood enemies of the Dark Court. When Xander sided with them against vampires, he became more than an outcast. He's an apostate. Even if she wants to, Lilith can't protect him without risking her own position."

 

"I'm on my own... but hey, I can look after myself," Xander said. The look Morgan gave him expressed her doubt at that more clearly than words. Of course, most days she didn't think he could button his own shirt without supervision. "I can... but not if I have to protect you and Victor too. Please, take our son someplace safe."

"Low blow, Goth-boy," Morgan sighed. She might have stayed by his side, despite the dangers, but she'd never put Victor in danger.

 

"Don't worry," Camilla said. "I'll look after him."

 

"You know, if it was anyone else, I'd think you were trying to get me out of the way so you could have my husband all to yourself," Morgan teased.

 

"Honey, if I was trying to have someone all to myself, we'd be sending him away," Camilla purred. "Now, come back to bed."

 

"As if I could sleep now," Morgan said. Xander could hear her pulse quicken.

 

"Who said anything about sleeping," Camilla said, her voice heavy with sultry invitation.

Xander watched Camilla gently draw his wife over to the bed they shared. 

 

With a sly smile, Camilla pushed Morgan down. Her fair complexion, almost vampire pale, contrasted with Morgan's sun-kissed skin. Her long sharp nails traced teasing paths across Morgan's shoulders. Morgan gave a sharp, shuddering gasp, shivering with desire.

 

He could hear Morgan's pulse quickening. He could smell Camilla's blood heating.

He knew Camilla was rarely a gentle lover. She more often veered wildly between coldly controlled dominance and barely controlled lust. Morgan was softer, yielding but comfortable in her passions. 

 

She yielded now to Camilla's passionate kisses, making little whimpering sighs against her lover's mouth.

 

Morgan's heart pounded as she surrendered herself to Camilla's touch, let her lust overwhelm her worries, if only for a moment.

With a panting gasp, Camilla broke their kiss at last. 

 

The women smiled at each other, as Camilla's pale hands firmly pushed Morgan back onto the bed. With a sly smile, Morgan's lover settled herself between her spread legs. Camilla fingers traced lines between her inner thighs. Morgan panted as the sharp nails teased over the sensitive skin. 

 

Chuckling, Camilla lowered herself until her breath brushed over Morgan's vulva. She leaned forward and Morgan gave a deep, passionate moan as her lover's tongue slid between her wet folds.

 

The heat of their blood and lust filled the room, calling to Xander. With iron discipline he held back, letting his wife and her lover have this moment of warmth together. They'd invite him over when, and if, they choose to.

 

Redheads will be the end of me, he thought.