About Vale

For readers who love the spicy vampire erotica Blood Stone series, here is the final chapter in the story of Nial and Sebastian.

The world is reeling, recovering from the global conflict of World War II. Sebastian comes home to Nial and peace, only to find that Nial is up to his old schemes and manipulations.

Over the next twenty years, they live, love and try to figure out how to merge an endless life with human demands. In the late 1960s when Vietnam protesting is at its peak, Sebastian’s need to be human and Nial’s outsider’s perspective clash…and the clash is fatal.

A short story filled with love and regret…and endings.

WARNING: This paranormal erotica features two hot, sexy alpha heroes. There is explicit and frank sexual language and heart-stopping sexual scenes between the aforementioned sexy heroes. Don't proceed beyond this point if hot love scenes offend you.
No vampires were harmed in the making of this story.
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This is a Blood Drops book. Blood Drops are short and novella length stories featuring the characters and situations in the Blood Stone series. Droplet sized morsels for your reading pleasure.

The Blood Stone series:
Blood Stone 1: Blood Knot (#1 Amazon Best Seller, Fantasy Romance)
Blood Drops 1.1: Southampton Swindle*
Blood Drops 1.2: Broken Promise*
Blood Drops 1.3: Vale*
Blood Drops 1.5: Amor Meus*
Blood Stone 2: Blood Stone
Blood Stone 3: Blood Unleashed
Blood Stone 3.5: Blood Drive – Blood Stone Boxed Set 1
Blood Stone 4: Blood Revealed (Upcoming)

These are continuing characters and storylines. Reading the series in order is strongly recommended.

Praise for the Blood Stone Series

Intriguing plot and fresh vamp world to explore. I can only hope and pray that Tracy plans on continuing and making this a series of some kind, because I would love to read more about this world she created. —Amazon Reader

Tracy Cooper-Posey’s writing keeps you on the edge of your seat, laughing out loud and wanting to use a fan to keep the heat out. —Amazon Reader

This is one of those hidden gems in the self-publishing world. —The Romance Studio

I don’t want this series to ever end.  —Amazon Reader.

Vale

Inverness, Scotland, 1949

Sebastian dug into the inside pocket of his new suit, pulled out the stiff envelope with Nial’s decorate handwriting on the front and tore it open. He dropped the big old-fashioned key into his palm and felt the weight of it. Then he looked up at the tiny cottage with a degree of approval. It was twilight and details were blurred even to his vision, but he liked the glow of warm orange light showing in the window.

He pushed the key into the lock and turned it, then pushed the old wooden door open. There was a stone step at the foot of it, concave with the passing of feet over decades. He stepped up into the house and shut the door, then listened.

“Nial?” he called.

There was a rickety stair winding up to the second floor, a central passage from which two rooms opened on the left and one on the right. The one on the right would be the main sitting room and that was where the light had been coming from. It was dark everywhere else in the house, but neither he nor Nial needed the light.

At the end of the passage there was another stone-floored room. The kitchen, Sebastian guessed. It was probably a later addition to the cottage, added when cooking over the fire in the main room was no longer acceptable.

A dark figure appeared at the end of the passage. “Sebastian.”

Sebastian took off his hat and spread his arms, to show off his new suit. “I’m a civilian again, Nial. I’m home! For good this time.”

Nial came forward slowly. “They released you.”

“Yesterday. No, the day before yesterday. That damned sleeper train from London made me lose a day. I hopped on the first train I could get. London was claustrophobic. Scotland was a fabulous idea, Nial. I could smell the fresh air when I got off the train.”

Nial moved closer and now Sebastian could see his face. He hadn’t changed of course, but his hair was shorter than he was used to. He stopped in front of him. Sebastian couldn’t see his blue eyes properly.

“You’re truly home?” Nial asked.

Sebastian grabbed his head and kissed him. He had ached for this kiss, from the moment the Staff Sergeant had handed him his demobilization orders. He took his time with it, tasting Nial and remembering.

Nial groaned and pulled him closer, his hands fisted around the lapels of his new suit, but Sebastian didn’t care. He fumbled at Nial’s shirt buttons, then impatiently yanked the shirt open and started working on the belt of his trousers.

That was when Nial grabbed his wrist, turned and walked up the stairs, leading Sebastian.

The upper floor was all one room, with a big bed under the eaves and dormer windows that punched out through the roof. The last of the day was hovering at the edge of the horizon and in the distance Loch Ness glimmered. It was a grand view.

But Nial pulled him away from the window and stripped him of his clothing, his movements growing more hurried with each passing moment. Sebastian cooperated as much as he could, for he was scrabbling at Nial’s clothing. Their lips met in another kiss that remained unbroken until Nial lowered Sebastian onto the bed.

Nial took him with an explosion of impatience, his cock thrusting with feral wildness and Sebastian welcomed it. Wanted it. His climax came hard on the heels of Nial’s and it seemed to surge up from his toes.

And his heart.

* * * * *

“London is a desperate place, these days,” Sebastian said, staring into the heart of the fire that Nial had stoked when they had come downstairs once more. The main room had two big armchairs that didn’t match, a table that looked as old as the cottage, and two ladder-back chairs that weren’t quite the same vintage as the table. It was comfortable and quiet. Even the traffic on the streets of Inverness had seemed calm in comparison to London.

“The food shortages are terrible,” Sebastian added. “Much worse than during the war, which I didn’t think was possible. Of course, there’s nowhere to live. People are piling up two and three families in a single flat. It’s simply wretched.”

“Italy wasn’t much better,” Nial said quietly. “But we were at least out in the mountains where there was room to move and to think. Then I caught a sniper bullet in front of the Resistenza and had to die for them. That ended the war for me.”

Sebastian nodded. “You didn’t say why you were back in London when I saw you last year. Bad luck, I guess. Although you surprised me by getting involved at all. I didn’t think that was your motto, Nial.”

Nial shifted uneasily on his chair. “Someone dear to me once pointed out that I can’t stay outside of human affairs my whole life, or I’ll stop being human. I decided to take his advice.”

“And have you enjoyed being human?” Sebastian asked.

“It has been a most unpleasant war,” Nial said. “But….” He sighed. “It felt good to be fighting for something worthwhile, to fight to protect the children and the helpless ones.”

“Until you stopped a sniper bullet with your teeth,” Sebastian teased him.

Nial grinned. It was a quick expression, but genuine and Sebastian was pleased to see it. Nial’s mood had been off since he had arrived, but he knew there was no point in digging for answers. Nial would tell him in his own time, or he wouldn’t.

Sebastian sighed and looked around the room. It was so good to be home. “I like this place, Nial. It’s peaceful. And large.” He grinned and crossed his slippered feet on top of the footstool. They were Nial’s slippers and Nial’s gown, for he owned none of his own. He had been sleeping in regimental underwear for the last nine years and had been happy to leave it all behind in the cramped flat he had been sharing with four other men.

“It’s not luxurious,” Nial said, “but I think luxury should be absent for a while. We can’t draw attention to ourselves like that when everyone is suffering so.”

Sebastian nodded. “I think I could hide out here for a bit, while we decide what to do next. Do you have any ideas?”

Nial shifted again on his chair. “I have a few,” he said slowly. “But first, there is something I must tell you. A confession, I suppose.”

Sebastian didn’t move, but he could feel his vampire perceptions starting up. The extra degree of alertness made everything seem crisp and very clear. “What have you done?”

“Do you remember…well, of course you remember,” Nial began. “When you took that shot in the leg, in the Cévennes hills?”

“As you say, of course I remember,” Sebastian said stiffly. Why wasn’t Nial getting straight to the point? It was unlike him to beat around the bush like this. “I remember the whole ghastly mess.” He’d had a devil of a time explaining to the field doctor exactly how he had healed so swiftly, and for a week he had been forced to re-wound himself for daily inspections, and limp around with a crutch for weeks, as he “recovered”. Even then he had caught the doctor and his CO looking at him oddly. When four of his battalion members had cornered him in a dark, lonely blind canyon a few nights later, and beaten him to what they thought was a senseless pulp, he had finally understood that while his differences weren’t fully understood by his battalion, they were unwelcome. He had been marked.

Knowing that asking for a transfer out of the battalion would more than likely put him right at the front, amongst the fiercest fighting, Sebastian knew he couldn’t stay. No one was more surprised that him when his orders came through. London, in a hush-hush department no one knew existed.

“I spent the rest of the war warming my toes by the fire while I read Russian and German newspapers and magazine, and flagged anything that looked rum,” Sebastian said.

“Is that what you were doing?” Nial asked. “I didn’t know, of course.”

“No one did. Reading was apparently a high security activity.” Sebastian shrugged. “Someone had to do it. It made life a lot simpler, not having to explain away a lack of wounds.”

“I’m glad of that,” Nial said quietly.

“So what is it about France?” Sebastian asked. “Have you been up to your old ways?” he asked lightly, for Nial had off-loaded his con artist habits a long time ago. Apart from the fact that they were living together in an age when it was illegal for men to have relationships with other men, they were model citizens. They even paid taxes.

Nial drew in a sharp breath in reaction and Sebastian felt a small touch of alarm. “What is it?” he demanded. “You’ve been subdued since I got here, and now you just jumped like you’d stepped on a mine.”

“Your orders,” Nial said heavily. “The posting in London.” He drew in another breath that Sebastian could hear. “That was me.”

Cold gripped Sebastian’s chest. He sat up, trying to process that Nial really had…. “What did you do, exactly?” Sebastian asked. Even his lips felt thick and uncooperative.

Now it was out, Nial was sitting back in his chair, looking calm and controlled like he always did, but Sebastian could hear his heart thudding. He wasn’t as placid as he looked. Nial gave a small shrug. “A small bribe here, a touch of blackmail. It was an easy matter to arrange, especially when the Colonel saw your record and heard about your language talents. He was eager to have you.”

For a moment, the cold seemed to spread through him, holding everything in stasis. Sebastian got to his feet. “You arranged my posting.”

Nial looked up at him. “As you said, it worked out for the best. You couldn’t go through the war pretending to be wounded and dying every other month. They would have caught up with you within weeks. The allies’ intelligence machine worked very well, and you popping up all over Europe under different names would have branded you as a spy, especially with your coloring.”

“So you arbitrarily decided that I would be better off in a cushy posting in London and just…arranged it.” Finally, Sebastian could feel something. Pure rage. “We’ve spent years arguing about why you can’t just manipulate my life to suit you. Idiot me, I thought you finally had mended your ways.” He stepped around the chair and away from the fire, heading for the door.

“Sebastian, wait,” Nial said from behind. “You have to understand. This was a one-time exception. They were extraordinary circumstances.”

“No, they were not,” Sebastian spat, spinning to face him again. “Thanks to your meddling a hundred years ago, my life is going to last for the foreseeable future. There are always going to be wars. Crises of one kind or another. You mean this one-time exception was for these extraordinary circumstances. Next time there’s an event, you’ll manage my life, make decisions for me, and give me the same damned excuse.”

Nial got to his feet. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “I told you what I did. I didn’t lie about it. I could have stayed silent and you would never have known. But you’ve influenced me that much, Bastian. I couldn’t let the lie stay between us.”

“Don’t call me that,” Sebastian breathed. He tried to see this from Nial’s point of view. He tried to be fair. Nial was always worrying about him, fearing his lack of centuries of experience would make him vulnerable if he didn’t watch over him. “Why?” Sebastian said at last. “Why even do it, if you knew I would hate you for it?”

“Hate?” Nial seemed to choke over the word. Then he said quietly, “They were such desperate times. I forgot, Sebastian. In the heat of the moment, I simply forgot. I could see a way to get you out of the arena, so I did it. Don’t hate me for that.”

Sebastian removed the gown and stepped out of the slippers. Naked, he turned to the door. “I need to think about this,” he said woodenly, and went upstairs to stare out the window at the loch shining silvery in the moonlight.

* * * * *

Nial heard Sebastian moving overhead, as the first streaks of dawn were showing in the sky, and his heart began to beat by itself. Sebastian hadn’t moved from the window the entire night. Now he was moving. He had reached a decision.

He opened the door a few minutes later and stepped into the room. Nial held himself still, holding back his reaction, for Sebastian was in his suit and had his hat in his hand.

Sebastian looked down at his suit, then up at Nial. “I suppose it must be obvious I’m not staying.”

Nial took a step forward, and managed to bring himself to a halt. “Is there anything I can say, anything I can do that will change your mind?”

Sebastian sighed. “There are a thousand things you could do or say that would make me reconsider, but every time I do that, I come back to one basic fact. You won’t change, Nial. You won’t let me live my life.”

“I did it for you.” It was the truth, but it was a useless truth. Nial curled his hands into fists and made himself stay still. There was nothing else to say. Sebastian knew him so well, he had probably thought of every argument and counter argument before he came downstairs.

“Where will you go?” Nial asked. “You have no money, not even luggage.”

“That’s a place I’ve been in before,” Sebastian reminded him. “Many times.”

“Sebastian, please. I can’t keep you from leaving, but at least give me some reassurance that you will be…safe.”

Sebastian gave him a smile that was more of a grimace. “I’ll draw on my reserves. Enough to get by until I have set up an income stream. I don’t know what, yet. I don’t even know where I’ll be.” He opened the door once more, and hesitated.

Nial tried to calm his heart, which was dashing itself against his chest as hope flared.

Sebastian turned and looked at him. “Have a telephone installed, Nial.”

“Why?”

“I might want to call.”

He shut the door behind him, as Nial sank back into the chair, waves of despair and hope rushing through him.

* * * * *

San Francisco, 1954

Sebastian rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed, his feet on the cold floor beneath. He glanced over his shoulder. There was a man and a woman on the big, rickety bed, and he didn’t know either of them. They were both naked.

So was he.

“God damn it,” he whispered and reached for his pants. They were lying on the floor close to the foot of the bed. He was fastening them when the man stirred and stretched, and sat up.

“Hey,” the man said. “You’re leaving?”

“I have to go to work,” Sebastian lied.

“You’ve got a job? That’s where you got all the dough for the drinks last night. Lucky bastard.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Sebastian said, and pulled on his shirt. The suit jacket, thank god, was hanging over the back of the single chair in the room. Crooked, but at least it wasn’t pooled on the floor like his pants. He threw it on and pushed his tie into the pocket. He’d deal with that later.

“You’re not even going to wait to say goodbye to Carla?” the man asked, sounding aggrieved.

Carla. That was her name. Sebastian saw that the woman was stirring, roused by the man’s chatter. She wasn’t a true redhead, but by the time the pair of them had stripped Sebastian of his clothes and dropped to their knees on either side of him, he had stopped caring.

“Goodbye,” Sebastian told her, and shut the door behind him.

* * * * *

There was a diner serving breakfast on the corner and Sebastian ordered a coffee and pretended to sip it, so that he could sit alone at a booth and think. From the glances of the other customers, he suspected they thought he was recovering from a hangover. The lack of a tie and his seedy, wrinkled appearance made it look that way.

He rested his chin on his fist and watched the world walk past the window. In many ways, it felt like he had been on a binge. He couldn’t drink, although it would have simplified things if he could. Instead, he had been over-indulging in the one thing he could do; sex, with whomever and whatever he could.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had been home to the little apartment on Ashbury Street. If he’d had a cat or a plant, they would have perished by now. There was no need to go home when beds were easy to find somewhere else—beds that weren’t empty.

It had never occurred to Sebastian that anyone would find him attractive, not until he settled in San Francisco and started visiting bars simply as a way to pass the time. When he received three discreet propositions on the same night, he had fallen into the sink hole he had just walked out of. Women with good reputations would never been seen in such bars, and he couldn’t be bothered dealing with the protracted courtship and marriage that would be required to find one. Instead, he fucked anyone who asked. Sometimes, three or four different partners in a night. He could catch none of the social diseases, and the women he had sex with wouldn’t conceive from his cum.

It had become almost like being drunk, Sebastian suspected. He couldn’t properly remember the last few weeks. Longer than that, really. It wasn’t that he had forgotten. He didn’t want to remember. Any of them. The people he had screwed were a long, blurred line of faces and bodies.

He had sat up this morning, for the first time alert and aware, looked at the middle-aged couple he had spent the long night hours with, and wondered why he was there.

Time for truth, Bastian, he told himself.

There was a Bell Telephone Company pay phone at the back of the diner. Sebastian dug out all his spare change, settled himself in front of the phone and dialed zero. “I’d like to place a long distance call,” he told the operator with the sweet voice that answered, “but I don’t know the number. Can you look it up for me?”

* * * * *

Nial could hear his phone ringing from down the road and put on a spurt of speed – not enough to call attention to himself, but faster than he normally allowed himself. It could be anyone, he told himself. It was about one in the afternoon and as more and more residents of Inverness installed telephones, calls became more frequent and letters fewer. He was on three different boards and four committees. The card club where he kept his hand in with some light fleecing every now and again thought he was an upstanding member – most of his so-called social life originated with club members…and their wives. Why he should suddenly think that Sebastian might call after five years was beyond ken.

He knew he was going to miss the call before he got the key into the lock. The telephone fell silent as he stepped inside.

Nial sighed and tossed his coat over the wing chair. There was no one around to tell him to hang it up.

Then the phone rang again, and he jumped, startled, for he was standing right next to it. He picked it up, fumbling, which told him much about his state. Don’t get your hopes up.

“Donaldson residence,” he said cautiously.

The line crackled and buzzed. “This is the United States calling.” The woman had a strong Yankee accent. “I have a person to person call from Sebastian Worthington to Nathanial Aquila.” She garbled the pronunciation of his last name.

Sebastian, you’re letting down your guard again, Nial mentally chided him. Aquila was not the name he was using now, and he doubted Sebastian was using his real name either. But at the same time, he was smiling. “That is me,” he said. “I’ll accept the call.”

“Go ahead,” the operator said, and there was a click as she connected the call.

“Nial?” It was Sebastian’s voice.

Nial rested his head against the wall. Relief and happiness were making him feel light headed. He couldn’t control his heart. It had slipped free. “Bastian,” he breathed.

Sebastian made a sound. It might have been a choking sound. The line was distorting sound. “I…” He hesitated. “I miss you.”

Nial gripped the receiver and it creaked under his fingers, forcing him to loosen his hold on it. “Come home, Bastian,” he said, as gently as he could.

“No.”

Something tightened in his chest. Something painful. Nial searched frantically for words. For something to hold Sebastian there.

“But…” Sebastian began, “I have been thinking. Not a lot of it, not lately, but I know what I do want.”

If he wanted the moon, Nial would try to arrange it. He held his breath.

“I want you to come out to America.”

Nial nodded. “I can be in New York on Tuesday.”

* * * * *

New York, NY. 1954

Sebastian found him before Nial saw him. The first glimpse he got was Sebastian’s arms spread wide and he was enveloped in a massive hug. He almost staggered back in surprise and as Sebastian released him, he straightened his coat.

Sebastian grinned. “‘Everyone does that here,” he said and waved his arm along the quay. Nial glanced around and it did seem there were a lot of people in each other’s arms. Parents and children, family and friends. It didn’t seem to matter which gender.

“I think I’ve been in England too long,” Nial murmured.

“Where are your trunks?” Sebastian demanded. “I’ve got a cab waiting. I’m staying at the Astoria. Hurry up. Let me give you the nickel tour of New York.”

New York, from the inside of a taxi, seemed big, bustling and noisy. Far noisier than London. But Sebastian didn’t give him the “nickel tour” he had mentioned. Instead as they settled in the back of the cab, Sebastian leaned over the seat and said to the driver “Waldorf Astoria, thanks.”

The driver had pulled into the traffic without comment.

Sebastian was looking at Nial, his good cheer suddenly gone. “You’re really here.”

“I said I would be.”

Sebastian’s gaze flickered toward the driver, then back to Nial, then he settled back against the seat, silent.

Suddenly, Nial was as anxious to reach the hotel as Sebastian.

* * * * *

Sebastian tipped the porter and closed the door on him, while Nial looked around the elegant room.

“Aren’t they going to wonder where I’m sleeping?” Nial asked.

“New Yorkers know how to mind their own business,” Sebastian said and pushed his hands into his pockets. The new suit style made the most of his shoulders and narrow hips.

Nial shut down that train of thought.

“Although, it’s a good question,” Sebastian said.

“What is?”

‘Where are you sleeping tonight?”

Nial rested his hand on the steamer trunk. “I don’t understand,” he said flatly, and truthfully. There were new qualities about Sebastian. Hard ones. He was more direct and action-oriented that Nial remembered. Perhaps America had rubbed off all his English reticence. But now he was being obscure.

Sebastian stayed where he was, a few feet inside the door. “We have to talk, Nial.”

“I’ve only just got here,” Nial pointed out. “What have I done in the…” and he glanced at his watch, “forty minutes I’ve been on United States soil?”

Sebastian shook his head. “I told you on the phone. I’ve been thinking, lately. Since I first phoned you, I’ve been doing nothing but think. This time, Nial, we’re going to do things my way.”

“Whatever you want,” Nial said.

“No, hear me out,” Sebastian replied. “We’ve always discussed what to do next, where to go and it seems to me that we either compromise, or we end up doing it your way. Inverness was your idea. That chalet in the south of France was your idea, before the war. Russia was your idea, before the revolution—”

“And aren’t you glad we went there? It made you more valuable to the Home Office.”

Sebastian looked at him. “I didn’t think you would be stupid enough to remind me of that.”

Nial shrugged. “I’m not guarding my tongue, Bastian. I’m not thinking.” He moved toward him. “You want me to stop manipulating you, to stop arranging life around you. That’s what I’m doing. No thinking things through. No schemes. No plans. Day by day, moment by moment.” He stopped in front of him. “Which is why I must—”

He took the kiss he had wanted since Sebastian had surprised him on the quay. It was one of the sweetest kisses he’d ever had and kissing Sebastian had always been a special delight. His body tightened and his cock stiffened.

Sebastian pulled his mouth away, but didn’t step away. Their bodies were still in contact and Nial could feel his cock between them.

He looked Nial in the eye. “That’s not fair. I can never think properly when you do that.”

“Then don’t think.” Nial pulled his jacket off and dropped it at his feet, then tackled his tie.

Sebastian blew out his breath. “Stop Nial. Just stop for a moment. This is important.”

Nial let the tie flutter from his hand and halted. He looked at Sebastian expectantly.

“I want us to do what I want. I want to live the life I want,” Sebastian said. His voice was hoarse.

Nial reached for his belt and pulled it undone. “Very well.”

“You agree? Just like that?”

“I said I wasn’t thinking. You’d better think for both of us, now.” Nial discarded the belt and started undoing the buttons on Sebastian’s fly.

“No matter what I want, you agree?” Sebastian asked and groaned as Nial thrust his hand inside and curled his fingers around his throbbing cock.

“Whatever you want.” Nial paused, and looked at his face. “Why? What do you want?”

Sebastian pulled him closer. “You,” he muttered and kissed him.

* * * * *

Loveland, Colorado. 1967

“Nial!” Sebastian shouted, stamping his boots at the front door.

Nial looked up from the book he was reading. “In the office,” he shouted back.

Sebastian strode into the room, shedding the heavy parka with the Rocky Mountains National Park logo on the chest. He’d already kicked off his boots. “I thought you were supposed to be grading papers?”

“I finished an hour ago. There isn’t a single student with the sense of a fly, not in the entire class.”

Sebastian grinned, winding up his scarf and tossing it onto the parka. “You’re the one who thought teaching would be an interesting idea. I personally would hate to have you as my Latin professor.” He cocked his head at Nial. “Why aren’t you sitting at the desk?”

Nial smiled. “I can’t sit on the couch to mark papers?”

Sebastian laughed. “You look like a hippy. Look at you. Jeans and bare feet, cross-legged on the sofa, and your hair hanging down around your shoulders.”

Nial glanced down at himself. “If you think this is hippy, you should see some of the students I teach. I think most of them are high on pot in my class, and the boys have longer hair than the girls.”

“You’re starting to look like them,” Sebastian said. “Are you going to start protesting, next? There’s a sit-in on the campus, I heard.”

Nial rolled his eyes. “I’m a respectable professor.”

Sebastian considered him. “I don’t know about that. You’ve always been a peacenik. I thought the hippies would be just your thing.”

“I’m not a peacenik,” Nial replied. “There are wars I think are right and appropriate. But any war is wrong for us to get involved in. You know why. And I don’t want to argue with you today, so let’s leave it there.”

“I suppose your glasses do add the professor air,” Sebastian said, agreeably changing the subject. He pulled them away from Nial’s face and put them on the desk. “They make your eyes stand out,” he added.

“So you’re removing them?”

“Don’t want to crush them,” Sebastian muttered and kissed him.

Nial heard the crinkle of papers as Sebastian knelt on the sofa. He took his time with the kiss and Nial let himself enjoy it.

Then Sebastian straightened. “Damn,” he said softly. “I forgot. The truck needs more anti-freeze. I think there’s a leak somewhere. Once the spring thaw is in, I’m going to have to get underneath it and track it down.”

“Listen to you,” Nial teased. “A real outdoorsman. Fixing mechanics and climbing mountains.”

Sebastian sat back with a sigh. “Long way from Ireland,” he murmured.

“A park ranger in Colorado? Yes, it’s a long way. Time does that, though.”

Silence gathered around them. Then Sebastian drew in a slow breath. “Life is good,” he said softly and glanced at Nial.

Nial nodded. “Yes. Life is good,” he agreed, and reflected that he would never have predicted that he would say so when he had heard what Sebastian was proposing, thirteen years ago, in New York. A park ranger had seemed the most unlikely choice, as if Sebastian had deliberately chosen the extreme opposite of what he had experienced until now. But America suited Sebastian. He was more energetic and happier, going about the business of humans.

He could forget, here, what he really was. Nial wouldn’t take that away from him, because sooner or later, Sebastian would have to face the truth. It would slap him in the face in some way. But for now, life was very good indeed. Nial sent a short prayer up to the stars that it would last a while longer yet.

“I think I interrupted you,” he told Sebastian.

“You did?”

“Or should I put my glasses back on?”

Sebastian pushed the student papers off onto the floor and hiked up his hips to get at the ones he was sitting on. “You did interrupt me,” he said. “That’s going to require penance.” He pushed at Nial’s shoulders, forcing him to lie on the sofa and bent over him. “Brace yourself.”

Nial happily relaxed.

* * * * *

Another two years slid by with the blink of an eye. Semesters came and went and so did the faces. Thanks to the hippy movement and the changes that were reshaping society, Nial and Sebastian found it easier to openly declare their relationship, and while the older generations tended to shy away from them, they found tolerance among faculty and students. Nial thought it was interesting that Sebastian’s fellow park rangers judged him purely on his work; Sebastian was fitter, stronger and more skilled than any of them, and that earned him acceptance.

They heard almost daily about protests over Vietnam and the draft, even in tucked-away Colorado. Nial was closer to the impact it had; almost weekly he would have a student show up in his office, pleading for a more lenient grade because they had to keep up their averages. If they were forced to drop out, their number would go into the draft pool. For some of the students, their chosen field of study wasn’t considered critical, and they were given marching orders anyway.

Nial began to watch Sebastian more carefully, waiting for him to talk about the war, but Sebastian gave no sign that the war interested him. Because they were living under false identities, neither of their names would be picked for the draft, but Sebastian was loyal to a fault and he felt strongly about his newly adopted country.

That was why trouble came from the opposite direction, the direction Nial hadn’t been watching.

They attended the funeral service for one of Sebastian’s ranger friends. Mike Donleavy had been drafted two years before, and took a bullet in the head somewhere along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. He had been buried with full honors at Arlington, but a second remembrance service was held in Loveland, where family and friends could attend.

The service had been heart-wrenching. Mike’s family and the widow he had recently married sat in stunned silence, their faces bewildered and white.

Sebastian had been unusually quiet and subdued through the whole long afternoon. When they reached home just on sunset, Nial found out why.

“Mike was my age,” Sebastian said, throwing himself into the bean bag. “I mean, he was the age I was when I…when you made me.”

Nial had met Mike a few times before he had left for Vietnam, and suddenly, he understood. Mike had been young and blond and had everything to look forward to.

“You can’t compare yourself to him,” Nial said. “It’s a bad habit to get into. You are not human, Sebastian. You gave up the privileges of a human life. Their rules don’t apply to you anymore.”

Sebastian was staring inwards. It was as if he wasn’t listening.

“Bastian?” Nial prompted. He crouched down next to him, to look at him properly.

“There’s a tri-campus rally on Sunday, in Boulder,” Sebastian said slowly.

Nial stood up quickly, surprised. “You’re not thinking of going, are you?”

Sebastian looked up at him. “Why not?”

There were so many reasons why he shouldn’t go, that Nial was at a loss to know where to begin. “Basic security,” he said at last. “With that many protestors, the police will beef up their numbers. Haven’t you been reading the news? People get hurt at those things.”

“Not me,” Sebastian said flatly.

“Why on earth would you want to be there? If it’s some form of memorial for your friend, then there’s other ways you can remember him.”

Sebastian looked up at him sharply. “Sometimes, Nial, I really do think you live in a little bubble all by yourself. It’s not just about the war. It’s being told what to do. They send young kids to Vietnam against their wishes. They’re given no choice about whether this is a war they believe in and a country they want to fight for. They’re shoved out helicopters with assault rifles and two days of training, and the Viet Cong mow them down with submachine guns supplied by the Russians.”

“I know,” Nial said as gently as he could.

“It’s even worse than being dragged back to a cushy job in London,” Sebastian said. “They’re being pushed to the front lines, not held back, and they’re being killed for it. It’s murder, Nial. It’s flat out murder.”

“I’m not saying it’s right,” Nial said carefully. “But it is the way things are right now. You can’t involve yourself. You just have to wait it out.”

“Why can’t I get involved?” Sebastian demanded, his eyes blazing with anger.

“For a start, the police are not fooling around. They’re arresting anyone that looks sideways at them. And you know as well as I do, Sebastian, that we cannot afford to be processed in any official way. They fingerprint people and photograph them….and all that data gets matched up by computers. The dodges we have used up until now won’t do anymore. I’ve already started to wonder how we can maintain the masquerade, going into the future. It’s only going to get harder.”

“I argue morals and you give me practicalities,” Sebastian said dryly. He flexed to his feet. “You’re missing the point, of course. I think you’re doing it deliberately.”

“Don’t go to the rally, Sebastian.”

“Are you giving me an order?” Sebastian asked softly.

“No. Of course I’m not giving you an order. But you must think this through. You have to stop reacting as a human. The rally will be dangerous. I’ve heard talk about it for the last two weeks. The numbers of protestors they’re expecting are scaring people, and scared people hit back.”

“And that’s the problem right there,” Sebastian said. “You refuse to let yourself be human and you won’t let me be one either.”

“You’re not human!” Nial cried. Then he caught himself and held up a hand. It was shaking. “I know you hate hearing that. I know you like to pretend it isn’t true, that you’re still as human as the next man. But for right now, you have to accept it and deal with this as the vampire you are. This is not our war, it is not our time. We had our time, you and I. Now we get to pass through the other times and merely observe. The war will end, eventually, and we will go on.”

Sebastian pushed his hand through his hair. “I will not go through centuries of existence and not try to live them. I never asked for this life. I never wanted it. But here I am and there’s a whole world out there for me to explore and learn about. People to meet. So many different things to try. You made me a vampire but I’m damned if I’m going to retreat from life the way you think I should. That’s not living at all, Nial. It’s not even existence. It’s…living death.”

“We are the undead,” Nial reminded him.

Sebastian gave a laugh that sounded bitter and a touch hysterical. “You’re already dead,” he said flatly, “but I won’t join you. I’m going to that rally. Don’t try to stop me, Nial. Just…don’t.”

* * * * *

Colorado University Campus, Boulder, 1969

There were over two thousand people in the rally, snaking back over a quarter of a mile, their signs waving as they chanted and marched.

There were nearly as many police monitoring the rally as there were protestors. The police all wore full riot gear and their guns. The protestors mostly wore love beads.

The rally was heading for city hall on Broadway, and was supposed to last four hours, but in the second hour, there was a scuffle along the side of the long snaking lines. Nial saw it all.

He had driven down from Loveland that morning, and parked the car a few miles away from the university campus where the rally started. He wore his most conservative dark clothes and tied his hair back and tucked it into the back of the jacket. He didn’t want the police to mistake him for a protestor. Once the rally started moving, he moved parallel to them, holding a camera and taking photos. It gave him instant access. The police didn’t want a journalist reporting about police brutality and the protestors wanted as much press as they could get.

It also let him scan the protestors, a section at a time. Then he would move ahead and check further along the rally.

Sebastian stood out. His blond hair and his height made him easy to spot once Nial was far enough along the line. Sebastian wasn’t wearing his uniform and he looked out of place in his white cheesecloth shirt and jeans and his cropped hair, among all the tie-dyed tee-shirts, kaftans and sarongs.

Nial dropped back behind Sebastian’s position and kept pace with the rally. That was how he ended up being at the perfect vantage point to see how it happened.

The police were staying alongside the rally, a single row of them strung out a few paces apart on each side of the line. They were jumpy, for the Washington rally had been only a week ago, and it had ended violently.

Nial saw the dog bounding across the front lawn of one of the houses they were passing. It was wound up over all the noise and movement, and thought there was a threat to its house. Nial sensed its distress as it passed him. It was confused and afraid. It launched itself right through the spread line of police and latched onto the nearest protester, snarling. The guy screamed.

The police stepped in to help. Nial saw the closest one raise his baton, to fend the dog away from the bleeding man. That was all it took. Others saw the baton raised and lowered, and heard the man screaming and a riot was born.

The rally halted and protestors surged around the wounded man. They leapt at the police, screaming insults. They didn’t seem to care that they were without weapons or armor. They threw themselves upon the police, using the weight of numbers to their advantage.

The police were forced to defend themselves. They clustered together, then tried to cut off the riot by spreading out through the crowd, calming and quelling. There was a lot of force being used.

Nial dropped his camera, letting it hang around his neck. Sebastian was on the far side of the riot, caught on the edges of it. The police pincer movement would fold him into the center, where the police would beat down any more resistance.

He wasn’t aware of the decision to move. He ran for the edges of the riot, where the police were all facing inward. He could work his way around to the back. If he could get to Sebastian before the police net closed in, then he could pull him out. Sebastian wouldn’t be aware of the danger that Nial could see from his outsider’s viewpoint.

In a crowd driven by a common emotion like anger, perceptions were often hazy at best. Nial used that to his advantage. He was able to use more of his strength to physically push and sometimes throw people aside, forcing his way through the crowd as quickly and as directly as possible. He lost sight of Sebastian, but steadily worked his way to where he had last seen him.

The police were there before him. They were closing into their circle now and could see that they had momentum on their side. They were swinging batons with furious energy. Sebastian had dropped to the ground and was trying to crawl between them, unnoticed. There was blood on the back of his head, a sharp contrast to the blond hair.

The police were trying to contain the chaos. The two beside Sebastian bent and flayed at him with the batons, forcing him back into the circle.

Nial leapt over shoulders, backs, all the bodies that were in the way. He stepped over Sebastian and straight armed the officer on the left, his hand ramming into the man’s throat. The officer choked and grabbed at his throat, folding over. He had lost all interest in rioters.

Then Nial turned and swung the same arm in a fast semi-circle and drove his stiffened fingers into the officer’s side. He would have preferred a front attack, but they wore body armor these days. His fingers sunk deep and the officer staggered, clawing at his side.

Then Nial bent and picked up Sebastian and dragged him backwards, out of the crowd. This side of the street was lined with stores and small businesses. He looked for an alley or an open doorway, but all the doors were shut up tight. There was a narrow space between two buildings and he half-dragged and half-carried Sebastian into the slender space. As soon as the danger of being seen was passed, he bent and picked up Sebastian properly and carried him the length of the alley and out into a wider lane that ran behind the stores and offices.

Cars were parked along the edges, leaving a barely wide enough space for other cars to pass. Nial moved between two of them and lowered Sebastian to the ground. He propped him up against the brick wall. Sebastian’s eyes were closed.

Nial checked the back of his head. There was a lot of blood, but whatever the injury had been, it had healed over now.

Relieved, he sat on the ground beside Sebastian and waited.

After a moment or two, Sebastian groaned and reached for the back of his head. His fingers probed and he grimaced as he looked at the bloody tips. Then he focused on Nial. His expression didn’t change. “You followed me here.”

There were lies Nial could speak that would take away the hard light in Sebastian’s eyes, but he found he couldn’t do it. “Yes,” he said, finally. “But not to stop you.”

From the narrow alley, screaming and shouting filtered dimly.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Sebastian said dryly.

Again, the justifications, the easy lies, rose to his lips and Nial thrust them aside. “I just wanted…no, I needed to watch out for you. Surely you can’t blame me for that?”

“I can look after myself, Nial. I’ve survived nearly two centuries already. But you’re never going to let me live my life, are you?”

He had expected anger for Sebastian, but this dry coldness was frightening. It was like all the anger had been drained out of him.

Finally, he tried to defend himself. “I didn’t stop you,” he pointed out. “I didn’t manipulate anything. I just came to watch and make sure you were okay.”

“I’m okay,” Sebastian said flatly.

Nial sighed. “We’re going to have to start over again,” he pointed out. “There were cameras, lots of cameras besides mine. Someone might have taken both our photos. I wasn’t very discreet, getting you out of there.”

Sebastian nodded. “You’re right. This life is at an end.” There was a terrible finality in his voice that made Nial’s heart slip loose and run hard. He looked at Nial. “We’re going to have to start again, but I’m going to do it alone.”

Nial tried to encompass what he was saying, but it was too large. Too horrible. “You don’t mean that,” he said stupidly.

“Unlike you, Nial, I mean what I say.” He dug in his jeans pocket, wincing as he moved. Then he tossed something on the ground between them. It was a plastic plug, with screw threads, just over an inch in diameter. There was a small, neat hole in the middle of it and the inside of it gleamed with viscous, dark oil.

“What is that?” Nial asked.

Sebastian rolled it over with one long finger, so the hole was clear. “You have always said mechanics was never going to be a natural talent for you. I didn’t even think you knew how to put oil in the car. But I think you’ve got enough self-interest to figure out what you needed to do, just this once. You’re smart enough to know that a slow leak of oil would stop the truck, once the oil ran out. I was lucky some other protestors picked me up.” He got to his feet, and spun to face Nial, throwing out his hands. “Christ, Nial is there nothing you would refuse to stoop to?”

Nial curled his hand over the plastic cap. Anything he could think of to say would just incense Sebastian more. So he said nothing.

“Tell me,” Sebastian demanded. “And don’t lie. I’ll know if you’re lying. After all this time, I can finally tell when you’re trying to con me.”

Nial couldn’t say the words. He knew the consequences that would come with them and he wasn’t sure he could speak. There was something gripping his chest, stopping his breath and his heart. Something painful.

Sebastian hung his head. “You’re breaking my heart, Nathanial.”

“Everything I’ve done, I did because I love you.”

Sebastian shook his head. He looked Nial square in the eye. “Vale, Nathanial.”

Goodbye, Nathanial. Latin, his mother tongue.

Sebastian turned and walked away, and for the first time in his life, Nial didn’t have the strength to follow.

Next in the Blood Stone series

Amor Meus, a print-only anthology containing all three of the Blood Drops stories released to date, including Vale, will be released in March 2015.

In the meantime, if you like sexy vampires, try adding time travel:

Kiss Across Time, Book 1 of the Kiss Across Time Series…and it’s free!

A single kiss can change more than one life…or two.

Taylor Yates is fired for insisting the 5th Century Arthurian poet, Inigo Domhnall, existed. When she hears Domhnall’s lyrics in a death metal song, she engineers a meeting with lead singer, Brody Gallagher. An unintended kiss sends them spinning back to the poet’s time, when Saxons were pillaging King Arthur’s Britain.

Brody’s all for kissing her again. More, he wants her to kiss his friend and lover, Veris, to see what will happen. When Veris’ kiss sends them back to the time of the Vikings neither man is willing to let Taylor simply walk out of their lives.

But Brody and Veris are more than lovers and sexual playmates, as Taylor learns when they investigate the kisses that send them across time. The secrets they share have the power to completely alter her life.

Warning: This story features two super hot alpha vampire heroes, multiple sex scenes, including anal sex, MM sexual play, and MMF sex. Do not read this book if frank sexual language and sex scenes offend you.
The time-space continuum was restored to order at the end of this book. Promise.

This is the first book in the Kiss Across Time Series
Kiss Across Time 1: Kiss Across Time
Kiss Across Time 2: Kiss Across Swords
Time Kissed Moments 2.1: Missing*
Kiss Across Time 3: Kiss Across Chains
Kiss Across Time 4: Kiss Across Deserts

[Time Kissed Moments are short stories and novellas featuring the characters and situations featured in the Kiss Across Time series.]
__

Amazon #1 Bestseller, Vampire Romance
Amazon #1 Bestseller, Paranormal Romance
Amazon #1 Bestseller, Time Travel Romance
All Romance eBooks Bestseller

[She] has created characters that are engaging, unpredictable, outrageously funny and down-right appealing to readers who will steal their hearts. The Romance Studio

I think you’ll be as entertained and affected by the chemistry between the characters as I was. A fast-moving romance that spanned several lifetimes and included a paranormal aspect that was a fun and totally unexpected surprise. Whipped Cream Erotic Romance Reviews

This was a great story with wonderful and surprising plot twists. The chemistry between the three is tangible. Siren Book Reviews

Paranormal erotic romance doesn’t get any more creative than [this]. Romance Junkies

Download your free copy of Kiss Across Time from your favorite bookseller now.

About the Author

Tracy Cooper-Posey is an Amazon #1 Best Selling Author. She writes erotic vampire romances, hot romantic suspense, paranormal and urban fantasy romances. She has published over 80 novels since 1999, been nominated for five CAPAs including Favourite Author, and won the Emma Darcy Award.

She turned to indie publishing in 2011. Her indie titles have been nominated four times for Book Of The Year and Byzantine Heartbreak was a 2012 winner. She has been a national magazine editor and for a decade she taught romance writing at MacEwan University.

She is addicted to Irish Breakfast tea and chocolate, sometimes taken together. In her spare time she enjoys history, Sherlock Holmes, science fiction and ignoring her treadmill. An Australian, she lives in Edmonton, Canada with her husband, a former professional wrestler, where she moved in 1996 after meeting him on-line.

Her website can be found at http://TracyCooperPosey.com. Tracy appreciates hearing from readers and can be reached at Tracy@TracyCooperPosey.com.

Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey

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Blood Knot Series (Urban Fantasy Paranormal Series)

Blood Knot
Southampton Swindle
Broken Promise
Vale

Amor Meus
Blood Stone
Blood Unleashed
Blood Drive
Blood Revealed (Upcoming)

Beloved Bloody Time Series (Paranormal Futuristic Time Travel)

Bannockburn Binding

Wait
Byzantine Heartbreak
Romani Armada

Kiss Across Time Series (Paranormal Time Travel)

Kiss Across Time
Kiss Across Swords
Missing
Kiss Across Chains
Kiss Across Deserts

Guardian Bonds (Gargoyle Paranormal Series)

Carson’s Night
Beauty’s Beasts

Harvest of Holidays
Sabrina’s Clan (Upcoming)

Destiny’s Trinities (Urban Fantasy Romance Series)

Beth’s Acceptance
Mia’s Return
Sera’s Gift

Short Paranormals

Solstice Surrender
Eva’s Last Dance

Guns ‘n’ Lovers Series (Romantic Suspense)

Red Leopard
Black Heart
Blue Knight
White Dawn (Upcoming)
Silver Noon (Upcoming)
Golden Day (Upcoming)

Go-get-‘em Women (Short Romantic Suspense Series)

The Royal Talisman
Delly’s Last Night
Vivian’s Return
Ningaloo Nights
Sian’s Run (Upcoming)

Jewells of the Morrow series (Historical Romantic Suspense)

Diana By The Moon
Heart of Vengeance
The Perilous Maiden (Upcoming)
To Soothe a Savage Heart (Upcoming)
The Heart of the Enemy (Upcoming)
The Cherlebury Rose (Upcoming)
The Duchess of Winter (Upcoming)
Despite The Sands Of Time (Upcoming)

Scandalous Sirens (Historical Romance Series)

Forbidden
Dangerous Beauty
Rhys Davies’ untitled story (Upcoming)

Romantic Thrillers Series

Fatal Wild Child
Dead Again
Dead Double
Terror Stash
Thrilling Affair

Contemporary Romances

Lucifer’s Lover
An Inconvenient Lover

The Sherlock Holmes Series

Chronicles of the Lost Years
The Case of the Reluctant Agent

For reviews, excerpts, and more about each title, visit Tracy’s site and click on each title in turn: http://tracycooperposey.com/books/tracys-trilogies-series/

Copyright Information

This is an original publication of Tracy Cooper-Posey

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

Copyright © 2015 by Tracy Cooper-Posey
Text design by Tracy Cooper-Posey

All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

FIRST EDITION: February, 2015

Cooper-Posey, Tracy
Vale/Tracy Cooper-Posey—1st Ed.

Romance—Fiction
Paranormal – Fiction