by Joey W. Hill
“It is known as the Castle of Water, Caislean Uisce. What looks like ice at this distance is actually moving water, shaped and directed by the castle’s exterior elements. It is a castle of waterfalls. However, with Rhoswen in residence, there is indeed much ice there, so your description is not inaccurate. Sit here.” Keldwyn slid him onto the flat surface of a rounded stone, part of a grouping rising out of the ground like a cluster of dinosaur eggs. There were drawings on it. Uthe passed his fingers over the symbols.
“What do these mean?”
“Children’s scrawlings. Things that mean something to them. All children have their secret languages. How old were you when your father made you drink from his victims?”
Uthe stiffened. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken that part aloud, but he shouldn’t be surprised. When the demon emerged like that, and John got involved, it was as real as being placed in a room with them. If he’d had any desire to hide the information from Keldwyn, as the demon had implied, he’d made that impossible. “It was only the one,” he said, and despised himself for saying it, as if there was any defense for such a reprehensible act. “I was forty-eight.”
“A vampire fledgling. Comparable to a human teenager. Usually unable to live on your own without a sire or mentor to protect you.”
“Still capable of making moral choices,” Uthe said. “Which I did. I killed my father right afterwards. I killed him, Kel, with that boy’s blood still on my lips. I can still taste it…”
God in Heaven, why had he thought that? His stomach heaved and he was off the rock, bent behind it, expelling what meager contents his stomach contained. He’d told Keldwyn he never wanted to be touched when revisiting those memories, but it was no surprise the Fae didn’t listen. When Uthe finished, he kept his head down, his fingers curled into the earth.
“Tell me,” Kel said quietly. “Take the burden off your soul.”
“No one can do that.” But Uthe relented. “My father was a Trad. It’s true that Trads have no regard for humans but, despite the scary bedtime stories about human massacres, only a few prefer to kill. Most Trads compel humans to them for food, wipe their memory and then release them. It’s simple common sense, because we can’t consume that much blood for a feeding, and we’re all cognizant of the dangers of exposing ourselves to the human race.”
He took a breath. “Some Trads are different. There’s the human who sits down to a steak, never thinking of the animal's state of mind before death, and a true sadist, who feeds on the fear and pain as much as the blood. My father was the latter. And perhaps that was why, as he got older and Ennui set in, he turned into what he did.”
As Keldwyn went still, Uthe nodded. “There is a very faint line between Ennui and the normal way a Trad thinks. I never noticed him crossing the line until he was there. We were solitary; he didn’t associate with other vampires. I thought they were all like that. At first, I just thought he was growing lazier. He’d go out to hunt and decide to take a child instead of an adult, claiming it was easier. Then he started ranting about pure blood being best, and a child had pure blood. He’d say, ‘Varick, what is the difference between the man who slaughters the calf and the vampire who kills a human infant? Both take the life of newborn food.’
“I was his son. It was how I was raised, yet his nurturing could not change my fundamental nature. Though I’d shared adult kills with him, I would not take a child. He saw how much it bothered me. That was when he started bringing them home. If I didn’t help him hold them, he’d make it worse for them, make them more afraid. He was too strong…I couldn’t stand against him, I didn’t think I could leave, I was too young. Dear God, a dozen useless excuses. My father realized tormenting me was far more entertaining than tormenting the children. The only upside to that was as long as I tore my soul to shreds and soothed the children, held them down for him, he would be satisfied and make their end quick. That was because he knew I’d be the one tortured for days afterwards. Fifteen of them in all before I acted, before I realized no matter how young I was or how powerful he was, I couldn’t bear it another day. I’d rather die.”
He stopped, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. A cup with sparkling water appeared by him, and when he lifted it to his lips and drank, it had a pleasing scent to it. He swished it around his mouth, and spit into the grass, wishing he could spit what had made him nauseous out also. “So there,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “My burden is all lifted now.”
Keldwyn’s hand rested on his back again. “I am honored you shared it with me. I like it when you call me Kel.”
Uthe shifted back to his heels and looked up, surprised. He didn’t see revulsion or condemnation in the Fae Lord’s face, or even pity. His dark eyes held a steady flame.
“Even just out of boyhood by vampire standards, you were an honorable male. An impressively strong one.” Keldwyn clasped his arm, gave it a hard squeeze. “You did know right and wrong, and you stopped him, even though it cost you a piece of your soul to do it. It was long ago, and I suspect you made your peace with it somewhere along the way. The demon is goading your doubts and guilt back to life for his own purposes. Let us get you some blood and you will have the strength to fight him as you have always done.”
“Sometimes I carry the burden of my task so close, it may seem that I don’t trust those who offer me help.” Uthe sank to one knee before Keldwyn and bowed his head. “If I forget that again during our journey together, I ask your forgiveness now, my lord.”
Keldwyn’s fingertips slid along his scalp, his nape, and he bent, pressing his lips to the crown of Uthe’s head. “You are welcome in my heart and soul, Varick.”
Gripping his wrist, Uthe pressed it against the side of his face, and nodded, holding that pose until he’d collected himself. “I fear age is making me mawkish, my lord.”
“Eh.” Keldwyn dismissed that. As Uthe let himself be helped to his feet, he was grateful that Keldwyn didn’t say anything further on the matter. The Fae Lord gestured toward a shallow creek. “We’ll go through this portal. It puts us close to where Evan is staying.”
“How do you know that?”
“I am an ancient Fae Lord. I know everything of import.”
“Except humility.”
“You have enough for both of us, my lord. Though I have to say your arrogant side, when it shows itself, is extremely stimulating.”
Uthe shot him a glance as they moved forward, which Keldwyn returned with an appraising look that stirred the blood. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Do. Remember, there is some disorientation…” Uthe stumbled, but Kel had him securely. When he straightened, they were no longer in the Fae world. They stood by a gurgling mountain creek, shadowed by a lacing of tall pines through which tiny shards of moonlight struck the water and glistened off the rocks embedded in the flow. A bird not yet fully roosted made questing chirps in the distance. The air was clean and tinged with fall coolness, the breeze sighing through the pine boughs.
“We’re in Tennessee,” Kel told him. “Evan’s mountain retreat.”
Uthe had never been there, though Evan had told him of it. As Kel and he navigated down a slope, the trees thinned and gave way to a cleared yard of grass and stone that overlooked a panorama of mountains, which at night presented in shades of gray outlined by the half-moon’s light. The cleared area had a picnic table, a well, and a sturdy, battered Jeep.
Uthe inhaled all the scents of the forest and…cookies. A scraping noise of wood and metal came from below, and Alanna, Evan and Niall’s servant, emerged seemingly from the hill beneath their feet. She moved several steps out of its shadow and turned to look up at them. A welcoming smile wreathed her lovely face, but Uthe saw concern behind the InhServ training. She was wondering at their sudden appearance here and what it might mean.
“My lord Uthe. You honor us with your presence.” Shifting her gaze to Keldwyn, she dipped her head respectfully. “As do you, Lord Keldwyn. Evan asked me to come out and greet yo
u. He’s on his way down with Niall. He wanted to do his sketching at a spot higher up on the mountain today, something about the elevations giving him a different level of inspiration.”
If Uthe wasn’t Evan’s sire, Evan would not have been able to recognize him at a distance. He’d have only sensed a vampire had come into his area. If that had been the case, Uthe was sure Evan’s mental direction to Alanna would have been far different, a sharp order for her to remain inside and hidden until he and Niall arrived swiftly to determine what business brought another vampire up here. This was terrain through which a Trad might pass, since they avoided places of heavy human habitation. Trads didn’t believe in taking human servants, except for temporary amusement or attempts to breed, as in the case of Uthe’s father. Their respect for the third mark bonding between other vampires and their servants went only as far as that vampire’s proximity when the Trad encountered the servant. If the vampire was not present, the servant’s fate was far less certain.
Alanna was one of the most beautiful InhServs who’d ever been raised from childhood for vampire service. Dark red hair fell to her waist and framed a delicate face with doe-brown eyes. The lovely curves of her body were accentuated by a pale lavender tank top and dark blue jeans. She was a head-turner for anyone with a pulse. But an inanimate doll could be beautiful. What made her exceptional was the strength of character Uthe and the rest of the Council now knew lay beneath those delicate features.
Uthe remembered when she’d been brought before the Council. Lord Stephen had tortured her mind at length to avoid capture. She’d been so weak, she’d had to be carried to the Council chambers, but she’d knelt at Evan’s feet and spoken her devotion for him as her Master, even knowing her Fate was not her own. While there was still some debate among the Council as to the wisdom of assigning an InhServ to a vampire who had no political aspirations at all, Uthe knew this was the right match. Vampires lived a long time. There was no telling in what manner Evan would end up serving vampire kind, but Uthe had always had a high regard for the younger vampire’s strength of character and steady nature.
Alanna had since been restored to good health, though Uthe suspected her glow of contentment had as much to do with the two Masters she now served as the healing effect of time and Lord Brian’s medical acumen.
“I just finished a batch of cookies and I have some fresh lemonade. Can I offer you something?” Color tinged her cheeks, her eyes twinkling as she realized how it sounded, offering a Council member and the powerful Fae Lord a cookie.
“Of course,” Uthe said warmly. “Where did you come from?”
“Oh.” She gestured in front of her. “The house is built into the earth, my lords. It’s a cozy cabin but very rustic. If you’d like to come down here to the picnic table, you can see the door better. You’re welcome to come inside, but it’s such a beautiful night, it seems a waste of the moonlight to be indoors.”
“I agree.” The leap from the top of the hill to the lawn was fifteen feet, an easy thing for a vampire, like a leopard jumping out of a tree. Uthe hit the ground and one knee buckled. Keldwyn was at his side to keep him steady, a state of affairs that was beginning to irritate Uthe. Not the Fae’s touch, but his need for assistance. “I’m fine,” he said gruffly, shrugging away and moving to the picnic table. He refused to look and see if Alanna had noticed his clumsiness, though he hoped she’d gone back inside to get their refreshments. Pride was a useless emotion, yet he kept indulging it.
“My lord Uthe.”
Uthe hid a tight smile. He’d expected Niall to arrive next. First, because it was difficult for Evan to pull out of the fog of inspiration, even for the demands of vampire etiquette. Second, Evan knew and trusted Uthe far more than Niall did. The big Scot hadn’t wasted any time getting back down the mountain, and Uthe knew it had little to do with deference to Uthe’s elevated status. His dark eyes flickered toward the house as Alanna emerged, confirming visually what he could verify in his mind—her wellbeing.
“We decided to wait and filet her when you arrived,” Uthe said mildly.
Niall had the grace to flush. He gave Keldwyn a nod, though it was far less friendly, just within the boundaries of courtesy without extending clear welcome. He’d never been comfortable around the Fae male. Since Niall had been born in eighteenth century Scotland, where stories of the trickery of the Fae were rampant, his wariness was understandable.
Uthe had no objection to Niall’s protectiveness, because it extended to both Evan and Alanna. A warrior by nature, he was far more likely to assess the potential threats of their surroundings than Evan. He’d had three hundred years as Evan’s human servant to hone those skills, only recently having had his vampire transformation approved by Council. His Scottish practicality was a good balance for Evan’s artistic nature, one of the main reasons his turning had been approved unanimously by the Council. Evan’s art brought in considerable revenue to the Council. Beyond that, he represented a different path for vampires. Lord Brian, with his focus on science, was the closest thing to that course, both of them proving that vampires could pursue vocations that benefitted the vampire world without being mired in cutthroat politics.
Niall was a big male, broad and tall, with long brown hair he kept tied back off his shoulders. His tawny eyes were bronze in the moonlight. He bowed in acknowledgement to Uthe’s jest. “My lord, I intended no offense.”
“None was taken. Such a treasure requires constant vigilance.” Uthe turned his attention to Alanna as she put a plate of cookies and two glasses of lemonade before him and Keldwyn, who’d taken the picnic table bench across from him. They were both tall enough men he felt Keldwyn’s knee press on the inside of his, but the Fae didn’t remove the contact. He took a cookie, his attention on Uthe as he bit into it, licked the crumbs from his lips.
Heaven help him, he was staring. Uthe pulled his gaze away. He really needed blood, but he wouldn’t take it until Evan was present. “Have you three been here long?”
“Just these past few weeks. We were in France before then.” Every vivid expression of happiness turned Alanna’s delicate features into a score of possible paintings. Uthe suspected Evan had endless photographs of her. Evan and Niall were two more vampires to add to the growing list of those who didn’t conceal the depth of their feelings for their servant. Niall had no obvious interest in taking his own, the two of them sharing her for blood and whatever other needs they had. Theirs was a three-way relationship, since the two men were equally devoted to one another.
“Evan said you would have particularly liked one of the places we visited there,” she continued. “La Couvertoirade, in Averyon. Do you know it? It was on the travel routes for the Templars to and from the Holy Lands, wasn’t it?”
Pleasure and sadness swept through him as he recalled Shahnaz. “Yes, it was. We had a hospital there and a chapel. Martins nested in the eaves.”
“They still do,” Alanna said, pleased at the connection.
The town was peaceful, far more peaceful than the Holy Lands that had been the ultimate destination of many Templars who passed through it. “And what masterpiece did Evan create there?”
“Something with gravel and broken glass. I could have taken him out behind a Scottish pub tae find the same.”
Alanna gave Niall an affectionate look of exasperation. “The picture features the different cross styles in the cemetery. He’s changing the order of the crosses, making patterns of them. Patterns within patterns. It’s a new technique he’s doing, combining photography and paint, along with broken glass and rock gravel he picked up from the site itself.”
“And you are serving him and Niall well?”
Her gaze swept down. “That is for my Masters to say, my lord. But I do my very best to care for them.”
“I suspect that is far more than they deserve.”
“No doubt, my lord,” Niall said with amusement. “But best no’ give her too many airs. She already thinks she runs things around here.”
&n
bsp; Uthe touched her face to draw her attention back up to him. Only a handful of months ago, Niall’s joke would have discomfited her greatly, Alanna interpreting it literally as a black mark against her InhServ training. Now he saw humor dancing in her once far-too-serious eyes.
“If I was putting my money on which of them gets above their station,” said a new voice, “it would be the newly turned vampire who likes to show off his fangs at every opportunity.”
Evan was windblown enough to suggest he’d made haste, remedying any lack of perceived courtesy at his delay. The genuine pleasure in his face had a peculiar effect on Uthe. He’d always been very fond of the younger vampire, but Evan’s obvious eagerness to see his sire flooded Uthe with sentiment. Vampires downplayed connections to other vampires; however, the young artist Uthe had turned on his deathbed was the closest thing Uthe had to a son. And this might be the last time he’d see him.
Even though he’d been frail as a human, Evan had been a handsome male, and the strong sculpted features of his Jewish heritage were only enhanced by his vampire conversion. He had thick dark hair he kept cut to his nape and gray deep set eyes that examined everything around him with an artist’s eye. His shoulders were broad though he was rangy, muscles lean and knotted.
“Better one who likes tae show his fangs than one who’s always showing his arse,” Niall returned. At Evan’s arched brow and what Uthe expected was a mind-to-mind reminder of the rank of their company, Niall cleared his throat. “My apologies again, my lords. ‘Tis rough living out here.”
“You had three hundred years to learn manners around vampires,” Uthe said, rising to hold out a hand in greeting to Evan. “Though I expect you’re less used to exercising them here, it’s important to have them ready to hand. You don’t want to offend the wrong vampire, Niall.”
Niall wasn’t as bad as Gideon, but the reminder was needed, especially now that he was a vampire. A fledgling would be broken faster than even a servant if he got above himself.
