She could have raised the issue that born vampires had been declining in percentage with each decade, which came with the implication of the weaknesses of made vampires. But given that she sat at the table with two made vampires who already felt a mild competitiveness toward Brian because of the privileges his origin afforded him, she decided to curb that thought. After all, it was intended to be an amicable gathering.
"Richard, Tara. Have you made arrangements for Brian?"
For the next few moments, she listened to them explain how he would be quartered in Tuscaloosa, in enough detail to assure her they'd prepared adequately to integrate him into the community. As they discussed that and other matters mostly related to their mutual business interests, she watched Tara and Richard shift, exchange looks, giving appraising looks to Brian's young servant. And to Lyssa's.
They understood there was a ritual to such events. The formality of a meal, conversation, an update on business concerns. Then, as the moon began to wax, there would be the desire for a performance. For pleasure.
She'd also noticed Tara and Richard's servants studying Jacob closely. She knew there was a kinship between human servants of sorts, and a new one in the upper ranks was always of interest. Brian's servant was too young to understand the nuances. In fact, she wasn't sure Brian himself understood the rituals involved in a vampire social event like this, but she was about to enlighten him and his young servant, for Jacob needed the lesson as well.
The desserts were laid out. Jacob's choice of brownies with raspberry sauce, timed to come out of the oven right now with their wonderful aroma, unwittingly stoked the anticipation of sensual delights. Tara inhaled the brownie and put the raspberry sauce on the tip of her tongue with an expression of absolute reverence that made Lyssa smile. Decadence, chocolate. Candlelight flickering and four very attractive servants awaiting their bidding. One who had openly defied her, giving her the perfect opening to segue into the entertainment the vampires would expect.
Richard watched Tara with similar amusement. "I think the female relationship with chocolate transcends the species barrier. I have a German shepherd at home, a bitch that adores it. Her mate has no interest in it at all." Tara made a face at him, and he smiled affectionately in return before he shifted his attention to Brian. "Lady Lyssa is being very diplomatic tonight, Dr. Morris. From past conversations I've had with her, I don't think she necessarily believes in researching vampire weaknesses."
Richard enjoyed teasing Lyssa on her politics, and she'd known him long enough that he'd earned the right, but it didn't stop her from narrowing her eyes at him. He was less affected than Tara, however, and just gave her a charming grin as he signaled one of the caterers for more wine.
"You don't believe it's important to research things like the effect of sunlight on our bodies, Lady Lyssa? Or Ennui?" Brian asked, his expression earnest and puzzled. "If we could discover a chemical way to curtail it, to retain the zest for life? What if we could figure out a way to walk in daylight? Wouldn't you like to feel the warmth of the sun on your body without pain? Or discard the lethargy that comes upon us when the sun is at its zenith?"
Goodness, he was overflowing with enthusiasm for his work. She had to suppress amusement, for she knew he'd think she was laughing at him.
"I believe there's a balance." Lyssa placed a bite of the brownie in her mouth. The taste exploded through all of her senses. The desire to chew, swallow and keep eating more was almost unbearable, even though she knew she couldn't digest it, would never feel full or satisfied from it. Jacob's pleasure in her approval of it was satisfying on a different, more disturbing level. She put down her fork. "As far as we know, vampires are immortal. If nothing adverse happens to them, they live forever. Again, as far as we know. Yet at a certain age, many begin to lose the will, the interest in life. Who's to say that's not Divinity's way of telling us it's our time to die? That we are mortal, just not in the way that other species are? Perhaps we're more like the members of aboriginal tribes who simply know when it's time to lie down and let the soul go. We do fancy ourselves enlightened, after all."
"But you've not experienced the Ennui, Lady Lyssa." Richard tapped his fingers on the table. "Again, no disrespect, but perhaps as I told my Tara, it's easy to shrug off the need for a cure when you don't have the disease. Not having experienced when the soul of you wants to live, but the rest of you is heedless."
"Perhaps," she said in a neutral tone. "But while survival is important, it should never be considered more important than other things. Honor, integrity. Dignity. As any of us at this table know, a species that abandons those priorities in favor of survival becomes a mob with no rules but savagery. That savagery can run rampant in a lab even more quickly than in a dark alley, because it can be more quickly justified as being for the greater good."
Brian frowned, but before he could speak, Richard chuckled. "I won't argue with the convictions of our greatest matriarch, even if I think her ideas might be a bit old-fashioned." He winked at Lyssa as she arched a brow. "Regardless, my timing is pathetic. It's dessert and time to enjoy ourselves, not darken our minds with these types of thoughts. Lady Lyssa, are you up to a game of challenge or am I now out of favor, rushing your itinerary for our evening?"
"I'm quite ready for it, Lord Richard. You are only out of favor insomuch as your implication of a woman's age. I expect you to make amends with your challenge. Let's address the last piece of business before us, which I think will dovetail nicely into that. Brian, are you willing to accept my mark to remain in my Region, knowing it will always be with you?"
Brian hesitated, which immediately captured her attention and sharpened the focus of the other two vampires at the table. "I am, my lady," he spoke carefully. "But first I must ask. Do you approve of the work I'm here to do?"
A shrewd mind as she'd said, and no pushover. She considered him long enough that she saw him question the wisdom of his conditioned response, but then his jaw firmed and he met her gaze squarely. She smiled.
"Dr. Morris, I believe in the quest for knowledge. I believe that in itself is the cure for Ennui. It only requires the will of the vampire to take advantage of it."
"But all vampires are not strong enough to do that," he argued.
"Then they have decided it is their time to die," she said matter-of-factly. "A form of Tara's Darwinism, I know, but one I believe to be appropriate. I respect that. I don't fear death, and I don't feel my fellow vampires should either. Faith and morality must be the foundation for the quest for knowledge, always governing our actions with regard to it. If we don't disagree too stringently on that, then no, I don't disagree with the work you've come here to do. You are most welcome in my Region."
As she let him think that through, Lyssa took a sip of her wine, tasting the metallic fragrance of Jacob's blood mixed in with the fruits of the vintage. She typically had limitless patience for these moments, but she hoped Brian would finish his deliberations soon.
Since their mental altercation, she could feel Jacob's restlessness increasing. For most of the evening he'd remained virtually motionless when behind her chair, determined to live up to her description of other servants. To a physically active man like him, being compelled to stand still in an environment like this was probably akin to torture. But his internal restlessness made her edgy as well. She could feel the heat of his body. He'd gotten his hair cut, brushed it out so it was like fine copper silk, the tips grazing the broad shoulders covered with the midnight blue shirt. Thinking of his strong lean thighs planted and slightly spread, his arms linked behind his back in a pose of waiting was more than distracting, especially now that her guests' minds were turning to the same type of thoughts.. But she was the hostess. She would exercise control.
Even if those black slacks did mold his ass perfectly. When he'd moved out of the hallway to the kitchen, her attention had lingered on his waist, the fit of the belt. Reminding her of the other belt and the mark she'd put on his ass. It had taken several days to heal, giving her the distinct pleasure of viewing where she'd landed the blow. The second mark didn't give him the almost instantaneous healing powers of the third, but the repair was exponentially more rapid than he experienced as a human. There was no evidence of where she'd struck him in the face as well. Even the bone in his forearm had knitted quickly, as she'd said it would, such that he didn't even wear a wrist brace tonight. He was favoring it, but had used the hand of that arm several times to lift plates without any obvious discomfort.
"Then I am ready to accept your mark, gracious lady." Brian inclined his head at last. "Though I know it is a requirement of being in your Region, and I have a keen desire to work at Techco, I want you to know I trust you as I do my father. I will be honored by your mark."
"Well said," she responded, impressed .despite herself. "Then come to me and prove it so."
* * *
Chapter Twenty-six
Carefully putting down his napkin, Brian rose, walked to her and dropped to one knee. With courtly formality, he raised his chin and turned his head away, exposing his throat to her.