Assassin's Return

by Marie Medina

  Jareth turned to the bookshelf and examined the titles a moment, his arms lightly crossed. “Tell me the truth and I’ll think about it.”

  Samuel took a deep breath. “What truth?”

  “A few things.”

  But he didn’t get to ask them right away. Jesse came tearing down the hallway and tackled Jareth’s legs, making the king laugh as he reached out to brace himself on the shelf. Quentin followed close behind.

  “Sorry. I told him to come back to you, and he wasted no time,” Quentin said.

  Jareth knelt and lifted Jesse into his arms. “He’s fine. Do what you need to do.”

  Quentin glanced between the two of them and then nodded before leaving. They stood there silently until the back door closed. Jesse tugged at the king’s hair, but Jareth didn’t seem bothered.

  “Is Jesse really your son?”

  Samuel hesitated. If Jareth was asking the question, he likely had more than one reason to raise doubts. “No.”

  “I thought not.”

  “Why?”

  Jareth freed his hair and smiled at Jesse. “You’re protective of him, but not in a truly fatherly way. And you’ve never once mentioned bringing him to live with you at court. Or considered marrying. Or asked about being released from your contract. If he were truly yours, you’d have wanted those things. You’d at least have been thinking about them. Talking about them.”

  “He was better off with Quentin.”

  “I agree, but I think you’d have tried to come up with some plan to have him closer to you.” Jesse reached for Samuel, and Jareth handed him over. “And you told me yourself you’ve never slept with a woman. I believe it was only five months before his birth you said that.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. I think I remember saying that.”

  “You did.” Jareth went to the window and looked out at the rising suns. “You claimed Jesse because of Quentin? You were already in love with him?”

  “I did it for him, yes, but my feelings were still new then. Maybe not new, but they only hit me then. Claiming Jesse was more a panic move. It was stupid, though I don’t regret it.”

  “Hmmm.” Jareth turned back to him. “If Quentin weren’t a factor, would you stay for the rest of your contract? Six years ago, you were desperate for a purpose as well as for money. But how do you feel about your work now?”

  “That’s a complicated question. Not sure if I can answer that well.”

  “Try,” Jareth said as he sat in the chair in the corner of the room.

  Jesse jumped from Samuel’s arms and onto the bed, getting himself tangled in the sheets. “Quentin is the main reason I want to quit. You know I don’t complete missions if I’m not convinced of the person’s guilt. But I don’t want to spend the rest of my life doing it either way. I could take four more years, I think. But I’d rather do something else with my life.”

  “I always had plans for you to transition to something else. We could, perhaps, begin rethinking your role now. But are you saying he’ll reject you if I don’t release you?”

  Samuel hesitated, trying to think, but he finally said, “It’s possible. He’s still a bit unsure.”

  “Then perhaps he’s not worthy of you.”

  “Someone being worthy has nothing to do with loving them. He worries about me, and it scares him. You can’t understand because you aren’t afraid of anything.”

  “That’s not true, and you know it.”

  “But you’re a vampire.”

  “If he truly loves you, he’ll get past it. You’re an incredible man. He needs to open his eyes.”

  “Jareth, please,” Samuel said. “I love him. I’m asking for your help.”

  “Yes, and I’m trying to determine if I should give it.”

  “Well, then? What else?” Samuel asked.

  Jareth ran his thumb back and forth over his lips slowly, his gaze fixed on the floor and a sort of faraway look in his eyes. “One more question.” He looked up as he folded his hands in his lap. “Have you told him the truth?”

  “He knows I’m not an ambassador.”

  “I know. You told me after your first trip back here. You know what I mean.” The king fixed him with a stern look. “Have you told him?”

  Samuel tried to think, knowing his hesitation was working against him. He couldn’t be sure if Jareth had somehow heard him talking last night or if he was only guessing, but he knew lying wasn’t an option. “Yes, Your Majesty. And I’m sorry. I know you have your reasons for everything you reveal. And everything you don’t. But I promise he can be trusted.”

  Jesse emerged from the covers and threw a pillow at Jareth. He caught it with one hand as he stood. “He seemed less wary of me this morning. I couldn’t help wondering. He seems tenderhearted, for lack of a better word. I did wonder if it would change his attitude.”

  “He said it changed things a little.”

  “Only a little? Hmmm. Perhaps I should have a talk with him.”

  “I can’t stop you, but I’d rather give him more time before you … well, do what you do.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jareth said, a hint of laughter in his voice. Jareth moved around the bed as Jesse giggled, and then he gently threw the pillow back at the little boy, who caught it and fell over giggling. “Don’t worry. I know he can be trusted. I can sense his fear of my power, even if he feels more at ease around me.”

  “I don’t think he’s as scared of you as he was.”

  “Good.” Jareth caught the pillow as it came flying back at him again. “I’ll think about your request. I don’t blame you for wanting to be here with them. I just got here and already I don’t want to leave.”

  Samuel released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank you.”

  Jareth straightened, his brows coming together. “I thought we were friends. Perhaps it’s idiotic of me to believe I can ever really have a friend, but you look so relieved I think my feelings are hurt again.”

  Samuel crossed his arms. “I am your friend, which is why I’m going to tell you to stop whining about your feelings being hurt.” He smiled as he scooped Jesse up.

  Jareth smiled as well. “Ah. Just making sure it’s still you in there. Love makes us all go a bit mad.” His smile faded a bit as he said, “It’s not about power and controlling you. I need you. It will take me a long time to find someone I trust so much.”

  “I know. Perhaps I can suggest someone from among our network of spies. I’ve selected all of them very carefully.”

  Jareth nodded, looking thoughtful. “I’ll think on that.” He pushed his hair over his shoulder and smiled. “Now, no more serious talk. I’m on vacation, after all.”

  Samuel nodded as they exited the room, but he still worried. Jareth made quick decisions most of the time, so if the king had to think about it, Samuel knew there might still be some kind of catch in the end.

  ****

  The Next Day

  Quentin walked through the square with Samuel on his right and Jesse and the king on his left. Jareth had tucked his hair into his hat again, and no one seemed to recognize him. Of course, prior to meeting the king, Quentin had only had a vague idea what he looked like based on Samuel’s sparse descriptions over the years. Most of the other villagers had never been more than ten or fifteen miles from home, so Quentin felt only mildly surprised the king could hide in plain sight with little trouble. Also, the vampire’s eyes had been blue all day. Samuel had told him that meant he was happy, but then Samuel had also said Jareth was skilled at controlling his eye color most of the time.

  When they stopped to buy some apples, Jareth moved over to Samuel and whispered something to him. Quentin noticed Samuel’s body go absolutely still, though his face gave nothing away. Samuel walked over to inspect some pears and then moved behind some of the produce stalls and slipped into an alley. Quentin paid for the apples and threw his bag over his shoulder, quickly hoisting Jesse into his arms. The little boy didn’
t like that, but he calmed when Quentin cuddled him close and pointed out some caged finches in the next stall.

  When Jareth came to walk by his side again, Quentin was afraid to ask what was going on, so he only looked up at the king briefly.

  “Someone seemed to be following us,” Jareth said softly, not making eye contact.

  “Oh.” Quentin tried to keep his face neutral and his voice low, like Jareth’s. “We just keep walking?”

  “Yes. Samuel’s very capable.”

  “I know, but I’m more concerned about Jesse right now.” Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he gripped Jesse more firmly. He felt queasy about Samuel being in danger, but there was nothing he could do about that.

  “I am as well.” Jareth glanced around. “Perhaps we should head toward the fountain.”

  “But there are more people here in the market.”

  “Which makes it easier for someone to sneak up on us. If we sit on the edge, we can see anyone approaching. We’d hear splashing if anyone was coming from behind.” He actually smiled. “I think Jesse would love playing in the water.”

  They walked to the fountain and sat, and Quentin scanned the crowd right away, looking for anyone he didn’t recognize. There were only maybe two hundred people in the village, and since only three farms provided all the community’s milk, Quentin was familiar with most of the faces.

  But he saw no one he didn’t recognize. He took Jesse’s shoes off so he could play in the fountain, and he scanned the area behind them as well as he set Jesse in the water. Jesse splashed his feet in the couple of inches of water, getting Quentin wet in the process. Jesse held out his hand, laughing at the trickle of water that came out of the carved fish’s mouth.

  “You have two magistrates here, right?” Jareth asked, leaning against a carving and looking quite at ease.

  “Yes.”

  “And some kind of jail?”

  “A holding cell. We never have much need of it.”

  “Well…” The king trailed off as he sighed and looked down to pick a piece of lint off his pants.

  Quentin tried to appear as nonchalant as the king did, but he doubted he was doing a good job. He focused on Jesse, trying to keep hold of his hand while watching his excited movements. He looked up and noticed the king staring at him.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Jareth rose quickly and moved toward Quentin, who didn’t know what to think until he realized what was happening. He saw the flash of a blade, which had apparently been aimed at him. Jareth grabbed their attacker by the wrist and twisted, making him drop the knife. Jareth’s punch was blocked, but then he managed to knee the man, though their enemy only doubled over for about two seconds. Quentin yanked Jesse out of the water and stood to back away. He cast his gaze around for Samuel but couldn’t find him. Jareth knocked their attacker to the ground and wrestled with him. After a few moments, everyone seemed to wake up out of their shocked stupor, and then several men moved forward to break up the fight. Jareth’s hat fell off, and his hair cascaded around his shoulders. But what actually gave his true identity away was his eyes, which were now blood red, and his fangs.

  Quentin turned to the gathering people and said, “He’s the king. Someone was following us. Samuel was…” He stopped, trailing off as he saw the other knife the attacker had wielded, which was now on the ground beside the first one. It was dripping with blood, and a large red stain grew on the king’s shirt.

  Several men restrained the attacker, and many of the stunned onlookers pressed closer as Quentin passed Jesse to his friend Christy and moved to the king’s side. “Let me see,” Quentin said.

  “It’s nothing,” Jareth said.

  “It’s a gushing wound!”

  Jareth licked his hand and reached under his shirt. He rubbed his skin as he said, “You forget a vampire’s saliva can heal a wound.”

  “A bite wound, yes, but a knife wound?”

  Jareth stilled and lifted his shirt, wiping away the blood and showing Quentin the unblemished skin. “See? I’ll be fine. I’m over five centuries old. A little knife won’t kill me.”

  “But your internal injuries. How can anyone examine you if you’ve healed the wound?”

  “Better than fainting from blood loss. I only need some blood. I’ll heal just fine.” Jareth actually rose to his feet. “Where’s Samuel?”

  When Jareth wobbled a bit, Quentin moved to support him. “Come and sit down. Let us at least call our physician while the magistrates see this man locked up.”

  “There’s another. This isn’t the man who was following us earlier.”

  “He’s back there. Unconscious,” a voice said.

  They both looked up to see Samuel coming toward them … with a wound of his own.

  “See to the king,” Quentin said to the closest onlookers as he dashed toward Samuel, whose shirt was easily twice as bloody as Jareth’s.

  “Get us somewhere private,” Samuel said.

  “What are you talking about? You need the physician. Now!” Quentin said.

  Jareth appeared at his side, apparently having shrugged off any help. “He needs some of my blood.”

  “But you just lost some yourself,” Quentin said.

  “A room. Now please,” Jareth said, his eyes still red and wild looking.

  Quentin looked around, finding Christy again. “Christy, can we go in the back of your shop?”

  Christy nodded, rocking Jesse in her embrace as he buried his face against her neck. “Of course. The back door isn’t locked.”

  “Thanks,” Quentin said, gesturing for Jareth and Samuel to follow him. He wanted to take Jesse back, but he didn’t know if the blood would scare him or if he even knew what was going on. The murmurs among the crowd grew louder as the first man was dragged off and some other men carried the one Samuel had dealt with toward the tiny magistrate’s office at the far end of the square.

  “Send word to Lord Thanos,” Jareth said to the passing men. “Tell him I’m here and what happened.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. We’ll send a boy now,” one man said.

  “Thank you,” Jareth said.

  In the small storage area, they got Samuel into a chair, and Jareth tore a gash in his wrist without any preamble. Quentin gasped but didn’t turn away. He couldn’t. Samuel looked so pale.

  “Drink. That’s an order,” Jareth said, all but forcing his wrist to Samuel’s mouth.

  Samuel shook his head, his eyes slightly unfocused, and Jareth actually did use force this time. He grabbed Samuel by the back of the head and made him drink. Samuel resisted at first, but then he seemed to relax and accept it.

  “Quentin?” Jareth said.

  “Hmmm?” He couldn’t look away from Samuel.

  “Quentin, I need you to focus.”

  “Yes?” Quentin said at last, breaking out of his dazed state with effort.

  “He’s going to need a lot. If you aren’t willing to let me bite you, I need you to hurry and find a volunteer for me.”

  Forcing himself to look at Jareth, he said, “No. I’ll do it.”

  “Thank you.” He lifted Samuel’s shirt. “Put pressure on his wound for now. I’ll heal it in a bit. My blood will help the bleeding stop. Start the healing.”

  “All right,” Quentin said, hearing his voice shake.

  “I won’t let him die, Quentin,” Jareth said. He pulled his wrist away from Samuel, who slumped in his chair. “That’s normal. His body is adjusting to the shock of so much vampire blood. It might even lengthen his life.” Jareth healed his wrist and settled on the floor, his eyes closing as he struggled for breath.

  “Your Majesty,” Quentin said, taking him by one shoulder and trying to make him sit up straight. “Take what you need.” He knelt by the king so that he could keep pressure on Samuel’s wound.

  Jareth let out a long exhale and drew Quentin to him. Quentin watched Samuel as the king drank from his neck, until the pain turned to pleasure and his eyes closed. He’d heard a
vampire’s bite could be intoxicating, but he’d never given it too much thought.

  Quentin wasn’t sure how many seconds had passed when he heard, “You may be the king, but just remember he’s mine.”

  Quentin’s eyes snapped open, and he saw Samuel watching them. Jareth drew back and chuckled before he healed Quentin’s wound. He sat back and looked at Samuel. “He volunteered. Maybe you need to stake your claim better.” He wiped his lower lip. “Though I think you know damn well he was helping me to help you.”

  Quentin felt lightheaded and slightly disoriented. “How can you two joke at a time like this?”

  Samuel slid from the chair and knelt on the floor with them, touching Quentin’s hand and drawing it away from his wound. “We’re both fine. Thanks to you.”

  Quentin lifted Samuel’s shirt and dabbed at the blood there. “You need stiches.”

  Jareth licked his thumb and touched the wound. A second application of saliva finished the job. Samuel let his shirt drop. “Thanks for not licking me in front of him,” he said. “I’m not sure if he’s the jealous type yet.”

  “Don’t want him fainting. He’s had a rough few minutes here,” Jareth said.

  Quentin leaned back against a barrel and closed his eyes. “You two are hilarious,” Quentin said dryly.

  “You need something to eat,” Jareth said, rising already.

  “Who were those men?” Quentin asked as he was helped to his feet.

  “We’ll have to question them. I didn’t recognize them,” Jareth said. “Did you?”

  Samuel said, “No. Though the one who jumped me had a tattoo I’ve seen on members of the Blood Clan. A flaming heart.”

  “Really? Under Madame Rena, the clan has been reforming, but I suppose not everyone accepts change. The last time I spoke with her she was having problems with some factions splitting off on their own. These men must’ve tracked me. They wouldn’t be here by accident. And everyone needs to be vigilant. There could be more.”

  “Will you admit I was right, then?” Samuel asked the king as they moved to each side of Quentin to support him.