Bastien hesitated, then admitted, "I came just after dawn."
"You've been here all day? What…?" The question died in his throat. He knew exactly what Bastien had been doing. His brother had read all the way through the story of Kate, he'd read every word to the last page. Luc's gaze narrowed on the younger man. "How did you know I would write it down?"
"You have always kept a journal, Luc—at least since paper became easier to come by. You always wrote things down. I often wondered if you didn't do so as a way of distancing yourself from it all. Like you do by shutting yourself away here."
Lucern opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. Neither of them would believe his denial, so why waste the effort? Turning away, he walked over and slumped onto the couch. He was silent for a moment, then scowled and asked, "So, what do you think of my first work of fiction?"
Bastien's eyebrows rose, but he didn't call Lucern on the obvious lie. Instead he said, "I think it's a very poor attempt at a romance."
Lucern stiffened, affronted. "Why?"
"Well…" Bastien began to play with the computer mouse on Lucern's desk. "For one thing, the guy's an idiot."
"What?" Lucern sat up straight.
"Well, sure." Bastien's lips twitched. "I mean, here's this all powerful, handsome, successful vampire writer, and he doesn't tell the girl he loves her. Heck, he doesn't even say he likes her."
Lucern scowled. "She left before he could. Besides, she didn't tell him, either."
"Well, no. But why should she? Most of the time the guy's such a surly jerk, she's probably afraid to." When Lucern merely glared at him, Bastien gave up all pretense. "You should have followed her, Luc."
"She wasn't interested. She was just doing her job."
"I'm quite sure her job description didn't include sleeping with you. Or letting you feed off of her."
"Bastien's right," a new voice said from the doorway.
Both men glanced over in surprise. Marguerite Argeneau looked at her sons, then entered the room and moved to sit beside Lucern. She took his hands in hers, stared sadly into his eyes and said, "You should go to her, Luc. You have waited six hundred years for Kate. Fight for her."
"I can't fight for her. There is nothing to fight. She has no dragons to slay."
"I didn't mean you should fight in that way," Marguerite said impatiently. "Besides, has that ever worked in the past? Gaining a woman's attention by slaying her dragons only makes her dependent. It isn't love, Lucern. That's why you never got the girl in the past. Kate doesn't need you to slay her dragons. Though she might welcome your help once in a while, she's strong enough to slay her own."
"Then she doesn't need me, does she?" he pointed out sadly.
"No. She doesn't need you," Marguerite agreed. "Which leaves her free to truly love you. And she does love you, Lucern. Don't let her go."
Lucern felt his heart skip with hope, then he asked warily, "How could you know she loves me?"
"She was half in love with you before she ever met you. She came to love you fully while here."
"How would you know?" Lucern persisted.
Marguerite sighed and admitted, "I read her mind."
He shook his head. "Her mind is too strong. You couldn't have read it. I couldn't."
"You couldn't read her mind because she was hiding it from you. Kate was attracted to you and afraid of it. As I said, she was half in love before she ever met you. That scared her. She closed her mind against it and therefore against you."
Luc shook his head. "How could she have been half in love with me? She didn't even know me."
"Your books, Lucern."
He shrugged impatiently. "Lots of women think they're in love with me thanks to those damn books—I saw them at that conference. They didn't know me at all."
Marguerite sighed. "Those women were attracted by your looks and success. Kate is different. She's your editor. She didn't believe in vampires, and wasn't smitten by your success. She fell for the real you. She recognized it from your writing."
When Luc looked doubtful, his mother made a tsking sound. "How could she not? You are just as surly and reclusive in real life as you were in the recounting of Etienne and Rachel's story or any of your other books. Your voice shone through. You were completely honest in those books, showing the good and the bad. In truth, you revealed more of yourself in your writing than you generally do in person, because you revealed your thoughts, which you usually keep hidden."
Lucern still didn't believe it.
Marguerite borrowed a page from his book and scowled furiously. "I am your mother, Lucern. You will trust me in this. I would never lead you astray."