The Obscurati by Wynn Wagner Page A

attack—and I doubt there will be, but you never know—I don’t want to leave any holes in the perimeter. Don’t let anybody coax you away from your position. We have plenty of warriors who will be up instantly to help.”
    “When is this?” asked a woman, in English but with a heavy Italian accent.
    “I don’t know exactly,” Pierre said. “Soon, sometime, but everything is subject to change. They don’t like to give advance notice. I will find out the day it happens. When I find out, I will call you all back to Bern. Sorry to be so secretive, but that is how the royals work. Oh, and it isn’t just our royals who need protection. We need this gathering to happen without being noticed by any of the humans in the city. This is the queen’s home, and she wants to remain as invisible as she can.”
    He paused to see if anybody had any questions or concerns.
    “Weapons?” another vampire asked.
    “If you want, but your main job is to watch. Okay, thanks everyone. I will call you sometime within the next few weeks.”
     
     
    W ITH that, the meeting ended. We were back in Bavaria in a matter of seconds.
    “What was the deal with wearing black?” Hamlet asked.
    “Pierre probably figured you’d show up in drag,” I said.
    “Butt-wipe.”
    “I can hear you,” Pierre said in our heads.
    “Yeah, well, good,” Hamlet protested.
     
     
    “ B ACK so soon?” Menz asked as we walked into the library. “You were only gone for an hour.”
    “Hiking,” I said.
    “Right. Give Queen Cécile my regards when you see her next time.”
    “I have no idea what you mean,” Hamlet said in a kind of mocking, Scarlett O’Hara voice.
    “We have a new blood donor,” Menz told me.
    “We always have new blood donors.”
    “We do, don’t we? But this one is from north Texas. I thought you’d want to know.”
    Menz clapped his hands, and in walked a young man. Tall. Thin. Muscular but not pumped or ripped.
    “Lonny,” Menz said, “this is Mårten.”
    “Yummy,” Lonny said. “Nice to meet you, Mårten.” I love that Texas twang. It isn’t southern but more like what you might hear in Kentucky. It is a twang, not a drawl.
    Lonny walked over to me and kissed me on the lips as his hand rubbed the front of my pants.
    “You here to give blood?” I asked.
    “I’m here to give blood and whatever else you want, big guy. You and Oberon… both of y’all.”
    I had already fed before going to Bern, but I could certainly use a snack. Flying does take some energy. Having Lonny in our bedroom would be a definite plus. His fingers were long, and we all know what that means. Like most of the other human blood donors, Lonny was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. He had gorgeous thighs and a nice bubble-butt.
    “Oberon is waiting for you,” Menz said.
    I guess the night’s entertainment was prearranged. Works for me.
    Oberon was indeed waiting in our bedroom, the room we have shared as lovers for a hundred years. He can still make me stop dead when I see him nude. That long hair, naturally black. Most of the hair on the right side of his head was colored deep blue. The hair matched his blue eyes. Wow.
    He glided up to me and started taking off my leather clothes. Lonny didn’t need a written invitation. He was out of his shorts and T-shirt in a few seconds and came to rub my inner thigh with both hands. One of his hands moved up to hold my crotch. I groaned because I got so hot with two men working on my body at the same time. Oberon’s hands went for my butt cheeks and crack because that was what he wanted to use. Lonny played with my thighs and crotch. Wow.
    Oberon, still kissing me, lifted all three of us off the ground. He slowly levitated to the bed and turned in the air. When we landed, I was flat on my back on the bed, my husband was on top, and Lonny was by my right side.
    Three in a bed isn’t necessary for me. I love sex, but I am happiest when it is just with Oberon. With others, it is just a fuck. No