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“What happened?”

“You passed out when I finally let you have an orgasm. Completely normal for a first-timer to my line. Can you tell me your birthday?”

It took a few seconds to remember it, and he kissed the top of my head when I finally came up with it. “Good girl. We have around forty minutes until my time with you is up. I generally need less than two hours with someone, but I wanted some extra time with you afterwards.” He sighed. “You weredelicious, though, so I was happy to have more than the two hours I usually mandate.”

“I don’t need to go to bear?”

“No. You weren’t damaged, it just hurt. You’re a great deal lower on blood than I’d take a human, but not so low it’s dangerous. You aren’t asking the right questions, little bear.”

“What questions should I ask, big vampire?”

“First, I’m aware you know the Concilio rules are no longer in play.”

I shrugged, becauseyesI knew, but I wasn’t supposed to talk about it.

“For now,” he said, “the Senatus vampires are using the old Concilio rules unless they write something to change them, and that hasn’t been done when it comes to famous people.”

“I’m not aware of a rule about famous people.”

“There’s no reason you should be. In a nutshell, you aren’t going to get permission to tell Lord Byron about supernaturals because of who he is. For starters, if he finds a way around the oath-made-real, he can quickly get the information to millions rather than hundreds. Also, if he becomes a problem, shutting him up isn’t as easy, and killing him can create a whole different set of problems.”

I stared at the wall in front of me, speechless a few moments before finally asking, “Why hasn’t anyone told me this?”

“I doubt Razor is aware, and Bran is obviously going to hold off as long as possible.”

“What do I owe you for this information?”

I felt him shake his head. “I’ve been through your head, and I’m something of a champion for true love. There’s nothing I can do to help you, but sharing the information cost me nothing.”

“Thank you.” I sighed. “If I can’t ever tell him, I think we have to break things off. I love both of them, but this can’t work with that magnitude of a secret between us.”

“Before you do that, ask Aaron Drake and Nathan Pierce for help.”

“Why didn’ttheytell me?”

“You’ll have to ask them.”

“Do you think they’ve been looking for a solution?”

“I would not venture to guess.”

I knew what I really wanted to ask, but my Drake NDA said I wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone about the new Senatus. The vampires all knew the American vampires had formed their own council of vampires and declared we were no longer under the rule of the Italian Concilio, but it wasn’t widely known amongstthe shifters yet. Aaron feels as if they are waiting for the Concilio to try to push their weight around about something before they go fully public to the rest of the American supernaturals — and when I say America here, I’m talking about all of North, Central, and South America. Nearly every country of all three continents joined with the vampires who broke it off with the Concilio.

But I needed information, so I broke the NDA to ask, “You don’t think the Senatus is going to use Will’s case to challenge the Concilio, do you?”

“I do not know the answer to that, but let’s hope not.”

My stomach flip-flopped at the possible consequences. “If the Senatus says it’s okay, and we tell Will and Davy, the Concilio might try to make an example of them.”

“They might,” he agreed.

“Fuck.”

“Is this going to change how you go about asking?”

“Yes. Thank you.” I sighed. “Ireallydon’t want to feed you again, but if there’s something else I can help you with, please let me know.” I considered what I might do for him, and added, “I wouldn’t be opposed to draining my blood into a glass and handing it over.”

He kissed the top of my head. “I’m on the lookout for a gay male shapeshifter who happens to be a masochist. A hard-core masochist, not a little pansy-assed one who thinks a few slaps on the ass is pain. If you happen to find one in need of a sadist, I’d appreciate a heads-up.” He gave me a half-smile. “Your little Davy would’ve been perfect except he’s human, and humans can’t survive my bite more than three or four times a year. Too often, and I run the risk of killing the healthy ones. Anyone with even a slight health condition might not make it through a single feeding.”