Sebastian

by Anne Bishop

  “All the businesses would put in a percentage of their take each month,” Hastings added. “Some credit slips, some coin. A place like the bordello would just reduce the rent on your room for their share.”

  “Besides,” Philo said, glancing nervously at Lynnea, “we all sort of figured you’d retired from your previous occupation.”

  That was the truth. If he’d had any doubts about being Lynnea’s exclusive lover, he was sure of it now after seeing her in a full-blown mad.

  Suddenly her body relaxed. She cocked her head. “You want Sebastian to be like a law enforcer in a village?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Finch chirped. “Exactly.”

  Sebastian reluctantly let go of her as she turned to face him.

  Her blue eyes still flashed with temper. “They wanted to talk to you about protecting the Den, and you thought they wanted you to leave. You moron.”

  He yelped when she reached up and pulled his ears to bring his head down. The hard kiss on the mouth was nice, but didn’t quite make up for getting his ears pulled.

  Then she walked out of the dining room.

  “Any bets that she’ll scare the customers into eating all their vegetables?” Sebastian asked.

  “Wouldn’t take the bet,” Hastings replied. “Not today.” He looked at Sebastian and frowned. “Why did you think we’d want you to leave?”

  “I’m a wizard.”

  “Justice Maker,” Mr. Finch chirped.

  He studied the three men. “Are you serious about this offer?”

  Philo chuckled. “A badass incubus wizard as the Den’s law enforcer and Justice Maker. What could be more perfect?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  With Jeb beside her, carrying a carpetbag and grumbling about the foolishness of making this visit, Nadia switched the basket she’d brought from one hand to the other and continued walking up the main street of the Den of Iniquity. Bursts of music and voices came from various buildings as the doors of taverns and music halls opened and closed. The colored globes on the poles turned the streetlights into something festive instead of providing mundane illumination. It made her think of the seedier part of a harvest fair—the tents and booths that most of the people who attended a fair didn’t realize existed. There was an edginess here, and enough resonance of mean to rub at the grain of doubt that had lodged in her heart during the past few days.

  “Don’t see why we couldn’t have left this at the cottage,” Jeb grumbled.

  “It didn’t look like anyone was staying at the cottage,” Nadia replied, trying to ignore the uneasiness she’d felt when she’d realized Sebastian had abandoned the place he’d called home for the past ten years. “I want to see how Lynnea is getting on, that’s all. And I wanted to see the Den.”

  “It’s been here a few years now,” Jeb said, looking at her with the awareness of a man who’d been awakened too many times in the past few nights when the dreams had plagued her. “Any reason you felt the need to see it now?”

  Every reason. But she wouldn’t say those words out loud, wouldn’t give them that much weight. For fifteen years, she had maintained an unshakable faith that Glorianna was not a deadly, dangerous creature, as the wizards claimed. When Glorianna had shaped the Den of Iniquity and altered the way Ephemera’s landscapes flowed into one another so that several of the demon landscapes were connected to one another, Nadia had trusted that her daughter, so gifted in her power, had seen some need other Landscapers couldn’t.

  For fifteen years she had trusted, because to do less might have shaken Glorianna’s faith that she had her mother’s support—and Glorianna was already too alone in the world. Now a grain of doubt was wearing away at that trust, and she had to see, had to know what kind of dark landscape had been made of this place.

  “First-timers?” a voice asked, pulling Nadia out of her thoughts.

  The blond-haired man watching them had the cocky grin of an appealing troublemaker, but when she got close enough, she detected a bruised wariness in his blue eyes.

  “Why do you think we’re first-timers?” Jeb asked, sounding defensive.

  The cocky grin took on a hint of mean. “Got the look of it. So…”

  Those blue eyes never left her face, but she could have sworn she’d been stroked from breasts to hips, and his hands knew every curve she had. Except for Sebastian, she’d never met an incubus, but she was certain she was looking at one now. The experience was…unsettling…in a way that made her feel ripe and female.

  “Who’s your friend?” the incubus asked.

  “I’m the lady’s friend,” Jeb growled.

  Nadia blinked. Had she just heard Jeb—solid, reliable Jeb—claim her like some meaty bone? As if some young man, even if he was an incubus, would have any interest in having a romp between the sheets with a woman old enough to be his mother.

  She looked into those blue eyes again—and felt her heart flutter and her face heat. Guardians and Guides, he was interested!

  “We’re here to visit my nephew,” she said firmly, ready to blame the streetlights or the walk here to justify any blaze of embarrassment coloring her face. When he smirked, making it clear he heard variations of that statement all the time, she added, “Sebastian.”

  The incubus jumped as if she’d whacked him with a broom.

  “You’re Sebastian’s auntie?” His voice rose to a squeak.

  “I am.”

  “Daylight!”

  “Who are you?”

  “Teaser. Ma’am. Auntie, ma’am.” He looked around, his expression on the edge of desperate. “Here, now, why don’t I take you up to Philo’s, and then I’ll have a look around for Sebastian. He’s here somewhere. Better be,” he added under his breath.

  He was even more appealing when he was flustered, Nadia decided as she and Jeb followed the incubus down the street. More…human in a way she understood. And more comfortable to be around.

  “What about Lynnea?” Nadia asked. “Where is she?”

  “At Philo’s,” Teaser replied.

  “Is she well?”

  “She’s doing fine. Gets pretty scrappy if I leave the towels on the bathroom floor or forget to rinse out the tub. Do all human women get scrappy about things like that if you’re not giving them sex?” Teaser paused. “Of course, she gets scrappy about those things with Sebastian, and he is giving her sex. Uh…”

  Nadia sighed. Before he’d known she was Sebastian’s aunt, he would have said all kinds of things to her. Now just the mention of sex had him blushing like a schoolboy. “Being an aunt doesn’t make me less of a woman,” she muttered.

  “It’s different,” Teaser muttered in return.

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. It just is.”

  It was astonishing to discover incubi could be…What was the phrase she’d heard Sebastian mutter on occasion? Prissy prigs. Yes, that was it. Prissy prigs.

  Maybe in another day or two she’d see the humor in that.

  “What are those?” Jeb asked as they approached four large, shaggy, horned creatures standing just beyond a courtyard filled with tables and chairs.

  “Bull demons,” Teaser replied, then added, “I hope William Farmer brought eggs in that last wagon of supplies.”

  Before Nadia could ask what eggs had to do with such dangerous-looking creatures, Teaser raised his voice and said, “This is Sebastian’s auntie, who’s come for a visit and a bite to eat. So you just find a table and wait your turn—and don’t go bellowing and give her a sour stomach.”

  The shaggy creatures stared at her.

  “Om-e-let?” one rumbled.

  “She doesn’t want your omelet,” Teaser said. “Just go sit down.” He pulled out a chair at an unoccupied table and smiled at Nadia. “This is a good spot.”

  For what? she wondered, noticing the closest statue. And also noticing that Jeb’s face was turning bright red as he looked around. The carpetbag slipped from his hand and landed on the flagstones with a thump.

  Nadia set
her basket on the table and just stared at the statues. All those years when Lee had come to the Den and had laughed at her concern that he might be too young…

  Mother, if I wanted to be wild and wicked, I wouldn’t go to the Den. Sebastian’s worse than a spinster aunt twice over when it comes to my doing anything you might disapprove of.

  She should have known a son would be less than truthful about things like that. And it didn’t look like a young man of tender years would have to do anything but look around in order to have an interesting education.

  Dark. Decadent. But…

  Her heart jumped into her throat when a bellow was abruptly cut off. “Oh, dear. That bull demon just smacked another one on the nose.”

  The people at the other tables tensed, ready to flee at the first sign of a fight breaking out.

  Then Lynnea stepped out of a doorway. Four shaggy heads turned and stared at her. She held up four fingers. Four heads bobbed up and down.

  “How did she do that?” Jeb asked.

  “She won’t make them omelets if they don’t behave,” Teaser replied, raising a hand to catch Lynnea’s attention.

  When she turned and saw them, she darted between the tables, her face lit with delight, her hands reaching out to grasp Nadia’s.

  “You’re here!” Lynnea said. “I’m so glad!” Then the delight changed to concern. “Is everything all right at home?”

  “Everything’s fine.” Nadia gave Lynnea’s hands a friendly squeeze before letting go and turning toward the basket. “I just wanted to bring you a few things. I would have left them at the cottage, but it seemed…unoccupied.”

  “Oh. Yes. Sebastian thought it would be safer to stay here for a while. There’s been a bit of trouble, you see, and—”

  “How’d you get here?” Teaser said, focusing on Jeb.

  “Took the bridge that crosses over in the woods behind the cottage,” Jeb replied.

  “But how did you get here?”

  “Walked.”

  “What’s wrong?” Nadia asked when Teaser started swearing and Lynnea looked upset.

  “Sebastian’s going to have a thing or two to say about that,” Teaser muttered.

  “Why should Sebastian have anything to say about it?” Nadia said, irritated. If she dismissed the sculptures, shaggy demons, and the fact that it was middle-of-the-night dark instead of morning sunshine, she might very well have stepped into some squabble in her own village. And to her way of thinking, the only thing worse than getting caught between two sides of a family squabble was being one of the participants.

  “He’ll have a lot to say about it, you being his auntie and all,” Teaser said hotly. “Besides, he’s the—”

  “Here now!” A round man with receding dark hair hurried over to the table. “Teaser, let our visitors sit down and have some refreshment before you start jawing at them. And, Lynnea, darling…” He tipped his head toward the bull demons. “There’s an order waiting for your attention.”

  “Yes, Philo, you’re right,” Lynnea said. Then she added in a rush, “Nadia, Jeb, please stay. I’ll get you something to eat, and you can catch your breath. And Teaser? Don’t be a moron.” She wove through the tables and dashed into the building.

  “How does being concerned about Sebastian’s auntie make me a moron?” Teaser shouted, causing all the people in the courtyard to turn in his direction.

  Siblings of the heart, Nadia thought, feeling the sting of sentimental tears. Lynnea was blooming here, changing from a frightened girl to a strong-minded woman. And the baffled, annoyed young man standing beside her was part of the reason for that change.

  “Aunt Nadia?”

  Turning, she felt her heart jolt when she saw Sebastian.

  He’s changed.

  Maturity cloaked him like a new coat that needed time to become a comfortable fit. But it was more than that. There was a feeling of strength in him, of…power.

  “Justice Maker,” Nadia said.

  His body tightened, as if bracing for a blow, while he inclined his head slightly to acknowledge the truth of what she’d said.

  Wizard. Justice Maker. One was supposed to be the same as the other, but they weren’t the same. Sebastian’s father, Koltak, was a wizard. But Koltak’s brother, Peter, the husband of her heart and father of her children, had been a Justice Maker. She thought if Peter had survived, he would have understood Sebastian far better than Koltak ever could.

  “Is the Justice Maker embarrassed to give his aunt a hug in public?” Nadia asked, pleased to see Sebastian relax as he walked up to the table and enveloped her in warm, strong arms.

  Teaser snorted. “This is the Den. There’s nothing you do in public that will embarrass us.”

  Sebastian eased back but left an arm around Nadia’s shoulders. “Jeb is the man who made that puzzle.”

  “Is he?” Teaser’s eyes lit up. “I’ve had a couple of thoughts that could bring in a few coin.”

  “Then why don’t you take Jeb over to another table while I talk to Aunt Nadia,” Sebastian said.

  Just that simply and quickly, Teaser led Jeb to another table, Nadia was seated with Sebastian, and a youth who didn’t look old enough to know about the Den, let alone live there, took the carpetbag and basket, saying that Philo would tuck them out of the way. Before Nadia could catch her breath, Philo was filling the table with dishes of food, two glasses of wine, and two cups of koffee.

  “Looks like Philo wanted to give you a sampling of his specialties,” Sebastian said. “There are Stuffed Tits, Phallic Delights, and olives.”

  Nadia picked up a roll, realized how it was shaped, and dropped it.

  “It’s just bread, Aunt Nadia,” Sebastian said.

  She wanted to smack him for looking so amused.

  “Here.” He took another Phallic Delight, broke it into three pieces, and put it on her plate.

  Nadia narrowed her eyes. “Are your hands clean?”

  “Yes, Auntie, my hands are clean. And I still remember to wash them after I pee. Most of the time.”

  She laughed. How could she not laugh? “All right. So you all think I’m being foolish.”

  Sebastian smiled as he dipped a Delight into the melted cheese. “You’re a first-timer. It would be a keen disappointment to all of us if there wasn’t something in the Den that shocked you.”

  Nadia picked up a chunk of bread and dipped it in the cheese. “This is just a strange little village, isn’t it? It’s wicked with a sense of humor, naughty for the fun of it.”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  She set the bread and cheese down without tasting it. “Then the Den isn’t the problem. May the Guides of the Heart forgive me, I had hoped it was.”

  He tensed. “You came to check out the Den?”

  “Yes.”

  “You think it’s the weak spot in the landscapes Glorianna holds?”

  “No, Sebastian. I think I’m the weak spot.”

  A long silence. Then Sebastian said gently, “Drink your koffee. It’s getting cold.”

  Obediently, she pulled the cup and saucer closer—and noticed that he reached for a glass of wine.

  “A few days ago,” she began hesitantly, “the resonance of a town within one of my landscapes changed, became discordant. I couldn’t tell if that discordance came from some hearts that needed to move on to a different landscape or if it was a change in the town overall. So I crossed over to the marketplace in that town.

  “Uneasiness and worry resonated from many of the people who went about their daily business, but it was the malicious glee of a few, thinly disguised as shock and disgust, that disturbed me. Even in the daylight landscapes, there are hearts that are nourished by dark feelings. They’re like weeds in a flower bed, except they can’t be plucked out. It’s more like they get trimmed back so that the good plants around them grow strong enough to overshadow them.”

  “I understand that, I guess. If you sent everyone who had cheated or lied or had done something spiteful at some tim
e in their lives to a dark landscape, there wouldn’t be anyone left in the daylight landscapes.”

  “Exactly. The heart is capable of the most noble feelings and the most vile. The possibilities are inside each of us. It’s the feelings we embrace, as well as the ones we turn away from, that shape who we are.”

  “So what happened in the marketplace that disturbed you so much?”

  Nadia sipped her koffee. “Stories about bad things happening in the next town over. A boy killing his younger sister with an ax, screaming that she turned into a big spider at night and crawled on him while he slept. A man beating his wife to death because she’d been late serving his dinner. Whispers about families having a run of bad luck. It felt like the words had smeared something vile over me, and when I left the marketplace to find a quiet spot where I could resonate with feelings that belong to the Light, I realized I was resonating in tune with that vileness. I was reinforcing it, helping it become stronger.”

  Sebastian put his hand over hers. She held on to that warmth, that connection.

  “The dreams began that night,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not dreams in the usual sense. Almost like someone whispering in the dark. But I didn’t want to listen, and the one image I can remember from those dreams is me pushing and pushing a heavy wooden door, fighting to get it closed and lock out whatever was on the other side. Except I’d lost the key, so the door wouldn’t stay closed.”

  Sebastian sat back, picked up his wine, and drained the glass. “Sounds like something is trying to reach you through the twilight of waking dreams.”

  “The what?”

  He gave her a grim smile. “That’s how the incubi and succubi hunt their prey most of the time. We don’t have to cross into another landscape, don’t need physical contact. Oh, we like real sex, but it’s the feelings we feed on. So we send out a tendril of our power, searching for a receptive mind, and we weave a fantasy—or participate in a fantasy. We’re dream lovers who can make a dream feel so real there’s physical gratification.”