but more because Fiona had been so unhappy earlier.
She hid it. Maybe more than most would be capable of, but Fin had spent the last few weeks getting to know her. Pretense wasn’t really in her nature. For all that she could be playful or cutting with her remarks, she rarely lied. If anything, she spoke her mind, and Alfred must enjoy it because he didn’t normally allow anyone to speak to him as Fiona did.
But the moment her transition had been completed, she’d walked away from Alfred and he let her go.
That was going to be a problem. She’d been too close to the edge when he woke. Too close to slipping away between the faltering transition and the taint of a shadow demon. Diplomacy, however, had never been Alfred’s strong suit.
He’d saved her. For that, Fin would always be grateful.
But the wedge it had created seemed to widen rather than narrow as time passed. Even today, as he spilled himself in her while she writhed between he and Maddox, she held herself aloof. The fiery, seductive nature of hers was a radiant flame, hot and all-consuming, yet she kept it banked. Maddox had to feel it. He’d been in a dreadful temper for weeks that not even her recovery and certain survival had soothed.
The dragon had mated her. If she left them now…
A groan pulled him from the darker thoughts, and Fin tossed back the drink. When he returned from this mission, he’d broach the topic with both Alfred and Rogue. Being old and set in their ways didn’t excuse colossally bad manners. They could hardly expect her to fit all her expectations into the way they’d lived their lives for so many centuries without trying to adapt themselves.
“Then again,” Fin commented as he set the glass on the bar and rose. The groaning vampire looked up at him through bloodied eyes. “What do I know? They still think I’m too young and impetuous.” Hauling the vampire to his feet, Fin dragged him over to the small stage. The night club apparently liked to host performances. It was also the least littered with body parts and blood.
Tossing the man onto the wooden platform, Fin pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the blood from his fingers. At a prowling pace, he circled Isaac’s second. A vampire named David, one of the few in the room who’d actually recognized Fin when he entered.
“Seriously, I’m not that young. I suppose it’s all relative. I’ve been the youngest for so long, they really don’t know how to treat me any differently.” A simple fact, one he could even accept. “However, I’m also the one closest to her in age, and I think that makes me far more qualified to give advice. Let’s face it, they’re two hermits and one guy who might as well be a hermit. He checked out right after World War I, utterly done with the rest of us. Not that I can blame him.”
At least World War II hadn’t woken him up.
Pausing, Fin studied David as the vampire groaned and began to twitch. “The trick here is that where it used to be okay to just take what you wanted and then let them spend a few decades getting used to the idea, I’m not all that enamored of it now. I also don’t think it will work in this case.”
If anything, Fin rather doubted they understood the will Fiona must possess. She’d survived for weeks in Nightmare Penitentiary while sitting on the precipice between life and death. Not only had she survived, she’d held onto her sanity as a shadow demon feasted on her and in turn fed her. No, she would not just ‘get over it’ or ‘accept’ this new status quo. They were going to have to win her over.
Of all of them, perhaps Maddox had come the closest in claiming her. There was a softness to her where the dragon was concerned. A softness, Fin suspected, she would not care for… “Then again,” he muttered. “What do I know? We’ve barely gotten to know her these last few weeks, and then only the pieces of her she’s deigned to share.” But what she had shared, he’d enjoyed a great deal.
The humor. The wit. The sly assessments. The utter lack of fear when she’d stabbed Maddox through the hand.
“She really loves bacon,” Fin mused. “She seems to enjoy that I’ve made sure she has it every day. But one cannot truly express