Sunset (Pact Arcanum)

by Arshad Ahsanuddin

  Nick met his gaze with a serious expression. “Is that what you want?”

  Jeremy’s eyes widened. “No! I didn’t mean it like that.” He took a deep breath. “Not yet. I would rather wait on that, if it’s all right with you.” He patted the couch next to him. “Why don’t you rest? You’ve been through a lot tonight. Let me take care of you for a change.”

  Rising from the chair, Nick settled next to Jeremy on the couch, then stretched out, laying his head in the Sentinel’s lap.

  As he gently caressed Nick’s hair, Jeremy whispered, “Sleep, Nicholas. Let someone else keep the monsters at bay for a little while.”

  Nick closed his eyes, relaxed by Jeremy’s fingers stroking the fine blond strands of his hair. Jeremy reached out with his mind and flicked the lights off, then focused his will on the tall pillar candle on the coffee table and channeled his Gift into pyrokinesis so the wick lit with a faint crackle. Quietly, he watched the flame dance while his love slipped into a restless sleep.

  December 2040; Baton Rouge, Louisiana; Two hours later

  The world faded back into view as Scott completed his teleport home. He draped his tuxedo jacket over the back of the desk chair in the den and quietly made his way into the living room to find his wife asleep on the couch, exhausted after a long day. He watched her sleep, safe and secure, for a few minutes and then turned and entered the dining room.

  Nick’s voice echoed in his thoughts, reverberating with agony. “It hurt so much. Don’t make me remember.”

  God, had it only been two hours ago? Two hours since he opened his eyes for the second time and finally saw the true shape of the world to which he had been completely blind.

  Rifling through one of the drawers, Scott found the corkscrew he was looking for and then opened the bottom door of the china cabinet to remove a bottle of white wine. He stood the bottle on the table, next to the corkscrew and one of the wine glasses they kept for guests. He silently stared at the three items, haunted by his own words. “This is the only chance you will ever have to tell me how you feel.”

  Shaking his head, he used the corkscrew to slit the foil covering and then twisted the metal spine deep into the cork, knowing that, had he wanted to, he could have used telekinesis to slide it out more easily. For some reason, it seemed important not to use magic for this task. Deliberately filling the glass half full, he put the bottle down and took a seat in one of the dining chairs, staring at the pale liquid in the glass.

  “I will never leave you.”

  Scott lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip, frowning at the taste. It was supposed to be cold, he remembered. His weak freezing cantrip immediately frosted both sides of the glass and Scott took another sip, smiling in satisfaction on finding the taste much more tolerable.

  “I will love you forever.”

  He downed the entire glass, grimacing at the burning, acidic sensation. Pouring himself another, he cast the chilling spell again. He was just about to down the second glass when a voice—this time from outside his mind—interrupted him.

  “Scott, what happened?” Michelle pulled out a chair and sat next to him at the table, waiting.

  Finally, he tore his eyes away from the wineglass to meet her gaze. “Must something have happened?” he asked in a monotone. “Maybe I just felt like I needed a drink.”

  She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and stared at him gravely. “Scott, you don’t drink. We only have that wine in the house because our neighbors gave it to us and we couldn’t refuse gracefully. Now tell me what’s wrong.” She carefully examined his rumpled tuxedo shirt and the salt tracks of his tears on his cheeks. “Did someone get hurt?” she asked gently.

  Scott stared at the wineglass again and then regretfully pushed it away. “Yes, someone got hurt.”

  “Who?”

  “Ana. She was attacked,” Scott said wearily.

  “Is she going to be all right?”

  “Yes.” Scott crossed his arms on the dining table, his eyes idly following the smears of dried blood on his sleeves. “We healed her. She won’t even have any permanent scars.”

  Michelle laid her hand on his arm. “Well, that’s something, at least,” she said, still studying her husband’s mood. “Do you know who attacked her?”

  Scott nodded without looking up. “Nick.”

  Michelle blinked and then stared again at the blood on his shirt. “I don’t understand.”

  Without meeting her eyes, Scott told her the entire story, from the moment they returned to the Ottawa Embassy to the point where the Daywalker had taken Jeremy in his arms before teleporting them away to talk in private. He left out the part where he sat in a corner and wept for an hour afterward.

  When finished, he turned to look at his wife and fresh tears gleamed in his bloodshot eyes. “All this time I believed I knew him best, and I never saw it. I touched his thoughts every day for more than five years, and not once did I pick up on his feelings. He’s been in love with me for years, Michelle. Years. And I never noticed. He carved up his own mind like he was coring an apple, just to forget that he loved me. Then, when I finally found out, I turned his love into a weapon—after he spent our entire friendship hiding it for my sake. I forced him to relive every minute of pain, every drop of hurt, and I couldn’t do anything for him but sit there and watch it unfold all over again.”

  She sighed. “I wondered if he would ever tell you.”

  Her words slowly percolated into Scott’s disbelieving mind. “You knew.”

  She reached for his glass of wine and took a large sip. Then she placed it back down on the table and rubbed Scott’s arm consolingly. “It may not be magic, but a woman knows when someone is lusting after her husband. He knew you well enough to hide it from you, but I was an outsider. I could see it in his eyes—the way he looked at you when he thought no one was watching.

  “I was ready to fight him for you, for our family, but he never gave me the opportunity. It took me a long time to realize it was love, not lust, in his eyes. He conceded, Scott. He let you go because he thought you’d be happier with me. He accepted defeat from the beginning rather than ever make you choose between us. Eventually, I understood, and I was grateful.”

  Scott swallowed, his mouth dry. He reached out to take her hands in his. “I would have chosen you, Michelle. I could never have loved him back, not the way he wanted me to. Surely you know that.”

  “I know. But now that it’s out in the open, there are things that need to be said.” She stood, and let go of his hands. “Can you take me to him? I think Nick and I have to talk.”

  Scott took a deep breath, and then, seeing her determination, said, “I’ll see if he’s still up.” Closing his eyes, he reached his mind out along the dyad link toward Nick.

  “What do you want, Phillips?” Jeremy’s voice rang loud in his ears and Scott was stunned to find his way barred by a wall of flames.

  Scott stared at the psychic barrier across the link. “What are you doing, Jeremy?”

  “I’m letting him rest while his mind recovers. Come back tomorrow.”

  “Can I talk to him?”

  The blaze shifted from blistering heat to biting, frigid cold. “Haven’t you said enough for one night?”

  Scott took a mental step backward, away from the glacial tone in Jeremy’s inner voice and the wall of cold fire. “You asked me to do it, Jeremy. You begged me to save him.”

  The psychic temperature plummeted even further. “Yes, I did, and I know it was necessary. I’m grateful you were strong enough to reach him when I couldn’t.”

  Scott was buffeted by the freezing wind of the telepath’s anger.

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t hate you for causing him so much pain. Now go away and let him sleep.”

  Scott found his mind thrown unceremoniously back into his body. He blinked in surprise, and looked up at his wife. “He’s asleep. Can you wait until tomorrow to talk to him?”

  She raised an eyebrow at Scott’s tone, equa
l parts shock and disbelief, then shrugged. “If I have to.”

  Standing, Scott wrapped his arms around his wife, still shaken by Jeremy’s barely controlled rage. “I think that would be best.”

  * * *

  Almost fifteen hundred miles away, Jeremy absentmindedly stroked Nick’s hair, watching as the sleeping Daywalker curled slightly at his touch. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered into Nick’s troubled dreams. “You’re safe now. They’ll have to kill me before I let anyone hurt you again.” Nick’s breathing eased and he relaxed against Jeremy, his subconscious mind reacting to the reassuring aura the telepath was broadcasting.

  Jeremy turned his eyes back to the flame atop the pillar candle on the coffee table—the only light in his apartment. “Never again,” he whispered to the shadows surrounding them. “You can’t have him.” He maintained his vigil long after the candle was reduced to a puddle of wax and the flame guttered out.

  December 2040; Armistice Security Headquarters, Anchorpoint City, Grand Mesa, Colorado; The next day

  “How is Ana doing?” Michelle broke the uncomfortable silence that hung over the outer office.

  Nick, sitting opposite the couch she shared with Scott, said, “She’s fine. Rory told me her scars have almost completely faded. Sike is livid, though. He’s barred me from coming anywhere near her outside of work until he’s satisfied I’m not a danger.”

  “Yes. I can see how he might feel that way.” She glanced at Jeremy, whose arm was slung protectively around Nick, before turning her attention back to the Daywalker. “I’m happy that you finally found someone of your own. Congratulations.”

  Nick eyes narrowed. “I take it you told her.” He frowned at Scott.

  “She already knew.”

  Nick’s eyes snapped back to Michelle’s. “You knew?”

  “For years I thought I would have to defend my family from you, Nicholas. I wondered whether you would try to take him from Peter and me. Eventually, I realized you never would; not if it would hurt him. Thank you for that. I know it must have been a painful decision.”

  Nick shook his head. “Magic requires sacrifice. Nothing good ever comes without cost. I knew he would never want me, never love me back the same way. If I had tried to be with him, I would have lost the part of him that he could actually share with me. It wasn’t a difficult decision to make.”

  “The fact remains that he knows now. We all do. You showed him the memory of your suffering, and now he understands.” She took a deep breath and squeezed her husband’s hand. “That means I have to understand, too.”

  Jeremy stopped glowering at Scott momentarily to stare at her instead. “You don’t have any latent telepathic ability, Michelle. Your mind isn’t designed to receive psychic information, only to broadcast it. Even if Nick were willing to share those memories, there’s no way he could bring you into a psychic link.”

  “That’s what Scott told me,” she said. “He also told me a vampire can share memories through blood magic.” She looked pointedly at Nick.

  Scott started in his chair. “No,” he said. “Absolutely not.”

  Nick shook his head. “You can’t seriously expect me to bite you.”

  “It’s not my first choice.” Michelle cleared her throat and gave a nervous bark of laughter. “But I need to see what he saw, and this is the only way I can. There are things I have to show you, too. Things you need to understand.” She held out her wrist. “I demand you do this for me.”

  Sensing the depths of her resolve, Nick reached out over the link to Scott. “She’s not going to back down, is she?”

  Scott’s inner voice was resigned. “She doesn’t back down often. Not when it matters. Do what you think is best.”

  Nick stared at her as his eyes shifted to a vivid crimson. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  Michelle didn’t flinch. “This is necessary.” She held out her wrist again.

  Taking her hand in his, Nick leaned forward and drove his fangs into the pulsing artery beneath her skin, his fingers expertly applying pressure to control the blood flow. The bridge formed immediately as he fed, and Nick shared memories of his friendship with Scott from the beginning, holding back nothing. As he did so, he saw the memories Michelle offered in return: her first meeting with Scott, their blossoming love, the joy she felt in his arms, the hope she saw in his face when he held their baby, his pride at his son’s first steps. Nick drew back, finally, healing the damage to her wrist and releasing her arm.

  Michelle took a deep, shuddering breath as the rush of memories faded. Opening her eyes, she let her hand fall into her lap and stared at Nick for a moment before smiling slightly. “Thank you.”

  Nick blinked. “For what?”

  She reached out and clasped her husband’s hand. “For letting me see how much my happiness cost you, and for letting me show you what you gave us in return. I wanted you to know that your sacrifice wasn’t for nothing.”

  “I—” Nick rocked back in his seat. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything,” she said. “I think we finally understand each other.”

  Nick met her gaze. “Maybe we do,” he whispered. “Thank you, Michelle.” He took a long look at Scott. “Take good care of him.”

  “I will,” she said as she rose and gently pulled her husband to his feet. “I’m done here,” she said. “Please take me home.”

  Jeremy turned to Nick, lost in thought as he watched Scott and Michelle teleport away. “Do you think we’ll ever have that kind of happiness to defend?”

  Pushing Scott to the back of his mind and masking the link, Nick replied, “I can’t promise I will ever love you like that, Jer.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.” He grinned. “At least not yet.”

  Nick raised an eyebrow. “Ambitious, aren’t you?”

  Jeremy’s expression grew serious as he reached out to entwine his fingers with Nick’s. “I love you, Nicholas,” he said quietly. “All I want is a chance to earn your love in return.”

  Bringing their clasped hands to his lips, Nick kissed Jeremy’s knuckles. “Jeremy Harkness, you’ve become one of my closest friends, and I didn’t want to mess with that. Even before I realized you wanted more than sex, I decided to let you make the first move. Honestly, if you had asked me to sleep with you at any time in the last six months, I would have agreed without even thinking about it.” He looked up to meet Jeremy’s eyes. “I never wanted more than that from anyone, except Scott. I don’t know if I can live up to your expectations.”

  Jeremy leaned forward and gently kissed him on the lips. “Try.”

  ARMISTICE SECURITY

  CHAPTER 25

  February 2041; Armistice Embassy, Mexico City, Mexico; Thirteen months after public exposure

  “Sentinel Garcia, do you acknowledge your sponsor’s authority over you until such time as the Triumvirate ratifies your application for full citizenship?”

  “Yes.” The Sentinel nodded.

  “The sponsorship agreement is duly registered and recorded. Under the terms of the Armistice Declaration of 2021, you are hereby granted provisional citizenship, subject to ratification by the Triumvirate. Citizen, on behalf of the Triumvirate Council of North America, I welcome you among the Free People. This judicial proceeding is now closed. Set and done this date over my seal and signature, Jeremy Kenneth Harkness Leshir Luscian, called the Seer, Armistice Security.”

  “Forensic recording terminated.”

  Jeremy stood from the desk and held out his hand. “Congratulations.”

  Briefly shaking the proffered hand, the Sentinel candidate murmured, “Thanks.”

  The Nightwalker who had sponsored him got up and left without a word, the Sentinel following moments later.

  Jeremy sat at the desk again and frowned. Calling up the forensic record of the interview he’d just completed, he watched it again on the virtual screen above the desk, paying closer attention to the behavior of the candidate and his sponsor. Lo
st in thought, he reviewed their detailed security profiles again, as well as the background checks assembled for Triumvirate ratification.

  He was still at it when Anaba stuck her head inside the cubicle. “Quitting time, Jer,” she said. “I’m sure you have better things to do on Valentine’s Day than overtime.”

  “Of course,” Jeremy said, still preoccupied. “Hey, Ana, can you take a look at something for me?”

  “Sure.” Ana walked into the cubicle and pulled one of the chairs toward the desk. “What am I looking for?”

  “This citizenship hearing I just finished.” He gestured toward the screen. “Tell me if you notice anything odd.” He played the recording.

  Ana shook her head. “Seems by the book to me.”

  “Look at how the sponsor and the candidate were acting, their body language,” Jeremy insisted. “Almost like they can’t stand to be in the same room together.” He ran the recording again.

  This time, Ana frowned as she watched. “Hmm. That is kind of odd, I’ll admit. Most candidates only approach a sponsor they trust to speak on their behalf. They’re certainly more aloof than the average pair we get coming through here.”

  Jeremy tapped a couple of keys and the sponsor’s security records appeared. “And look at this. That Nightwalker has sponsored two other candidates in the past year. Kind of a lot, don’t you think?”

  She shrugged dismissively. “A little unusual, but not unheard of. Your boyfriend stood for two candidates, himself: you and Scott,” she said with a grin.

  Jeremy glared at her. “Ana, stop ribbing me about Nick. So, he’s my boyfriend. Get over it.”

  “Come on, Jer,” Ana laughed. “You’re practically drooling all over him whenever he passes through here.”

  Jeremy rubbed his temples in frustration. “Ana, give me a break, will you? I wasn’t ready to tell him how I felt. I’m still getting used to the idea.”

  She smirked. “And you’re loving every minute of it, aren’t you?” Ana shook her head. “Seriously, the way you worship that guy is really over the top. I mean, I know he saved your life, but come on. He was just a singer in a rock band, for God’s sake.”