They were both silent for a minute and then Donny added solemnly, “I do miss having family, though. I mean, mine weren’t the greatest, but they were family.”
“I ken family is usually thought o’ as forged by blood, lad, but blood does no’ always make fer good family. Just look at Cain and Abel, or Constantine. Sometimes a better family can be forged through friendship and time.” He paused, apparently to let that sink in, and then added, “Once ye’re a full-blown hunter, ye’ll find yer partner and coworkers becoming family to ye. Immortals ken the importance o’ family and recognize that ye have none now and will adopt ye into theirs.”
“Maybe.” Donny sounded dubious.
“I’m surprised Leigh and Lucian have no’ pulled ye into their family already,” Scotty commented.
“So you were awake for that part of the ride back to the house too, were you?” Donny asked on a chuckle. Scotty didn’t respond, at least not verbally. He must have nodded or something, though, because Donny grunted, and then said, “As for Leigh and Lucian, they kind of have tried to include me in their family, I think. I mean, Leigh invites me for every holiday and tries to get me to come out, but . . .”
“But ye’re no’ comfortable with them?” Scotty guessed. “Mayhap ye still feel some guilt for Leigh’s getting turned because o’ ye?”
“Yeah,” Donny said on a sigh. “And then there’s the fact that I don’t think Lucian likes me much.”
“Really? Why would that be?” Scotty asked with interest, and then must have read his mind because he said with certainty, “Ye still ha’e a crush on Leigh.”
“Well, sure,” Donny said as if that should be a given. “I mean, Leigh’s beautiful, and smart and awesome and—”
“I do no’ think Lucian does no’ like ye,” Scotty interrupted dryly.
“Really? Why? Has he said something to you about me?” Donny asked eagerly.
“Nay.”
“Then why?” he asked with confusion.
“Because if he’s read the thoughts in yer mind about his Leigh and has no’ yet beat ye to a pulp, then he must like ye a great deal. He also has more patience than I ever credited him with,” Scotty said dryly.
“Oh,” Donny muttered, sounding embarrassed.
“Oh, is right,” Scotty said with disgust. “Did ye have such X-rated thoughts about my life mate, ye’d no’ be long fer this world. At the very least ye’d get a sound thrashin’.” He paused briefly to let that sink in and then added, “Ye ha’e to learn to control yer thoughts, lad. Ye must remember any immortal older than ye can read every thought out o’ yer head.”
“Right,” Donny said on a dejected sigh.
“Ye need to learn to not think except in private.”
“Not think?” Donny echoed with disbelief. “That’s not even possible!”
“O’ course it is,” Scotty assured him. “Ye just pay attention to everything around ye and cut out the commentary in yer head until ye’re alone.”
“The commentary?” Donny asked uncertainly.
“Aye, that voice in yer head that says, ‘Hot damn, those candy-apple-red shoes are fine. I want to strip off every bit o’ clothing she has on, licking her from top to bottom as I do, and then, once she’s left in only those shoes, back her up against the wall and screw her slow and hard.’”
Beth blinked her eyes open and gawked briefly at the two men before catching herself and closing them again. She couldn’t believe those were the words in Donny’s head . . . and about Leigh too! Damn, he was lucky Lucian hadn’t killed him. That amazed her, but no more than how hot the young man’s thoughts were! Especially when spoken in Scotty’s deep, sexy voice. She’d actually envisioned all that happening as he spoke the words . . . only to her, wearing her candy-apple-red shoes. And it hadn’t been Donny but Scotty doing the stripping, licking, and slow screwing.
Damn, Beth knew what she’d be fantasizing in bed tonight. It was just a shame she couldn’t actually act it out with Scotty for real. But the man was over eight hundred years old. Unmated immortals started losing interest in food and sex and things like that sometime after their first hundred years as an immortal. By their two hundredth year they were usually pretty much off both, and they stayed that way until they met their life mate.
Beth had been an immortal for nearly a hundred and twenty-five years now, but hadn’t found her hungers waning at all yet. She loved food, all kinds of it, and she enjoyed sex . . . most of the time . . . well, maybe half the time. The truth was, she hadn’t really been fussy on sex while mortal, but that probably had more to do with her situation than anything. Since the turn, though, she’d wanted sex, but was most often left feeling unsatisfied by it. Beth had no idea why. It wasn’t like she didn’t have orgasms or anything. She did. It was just . . . the best way she could think to describe it was that it was like when you were craving cherry pie, but had only apple. It could be the most amazing apple pie in the world, but still wasn’t the cherry pie you were really yearning for, and you were left feeling slightly dissatisfied. That’s how Beth found sex since the turn. Like it was good, but it just wasn’t quite measuring up. Weird.
“But how do you cut out the commentary?” Donny asked now with frustration. “It just comes out. I don’t know how to not think.”
“Ye do. Ye just ne’er try to censor yourself because ye’re used to thinking yer thoughts are yer own,” Scotty said firmly. “I’ll no’ lie, it’ll be hard and ’twill take some time fer ye to learn, but ye can do it. We all had to. And ’tis better to make yerself do it ere a stray thought has an older immortal thrash ye, or worse.”
“Or worse?” Donny asked warily.
“I ken o’ immortals who ha’e been killed fer stray thoughts they did no’ control,” he said solemnly. “And I’d no’ like to see ye added to that list.”
“Neither would I,” Donny said unhappily.
“I’ll do what I can to help ye with it.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that,” Donny said sincerely.
Another brief silence fell and then Donny asked, “Your life mate?”
“What?” Scotty sounded confused.
“Earlier you said, ‘Did ye have such X-rated thoughts about my life mate, ye’d no’ be long fer this world.’” Donny reminded him. “So? You do have a life mate?”
“Nay. Well, aye, I do,” he confessed. “But I have no’ claimed her.”
“What! Why?” Donny asked with an amazement shared by Beth.
“’Tis a . . . delicate situation,” Scotty said uncomfortably.
“Delicate how?” Donny prodded.
Beth half expected Scotty to tell the boy to mind his own business. Instead, he muttered, “She was no’ ready yet.”
Donny was silent for a minute, and Beth could almost hear his brain ticking as he tried to work that out. And then he said, “Like she’s not ready because she’s too young? A kid?”
“Something like that,” Scotty muttered evasively.
“How young?” Donny asked with obvious curiosity.