“What has he done to Mihr?” Aiken, who had been sitting, immediately flew to his feet. “What could she have done to displease him?”
“She was born a female, Emissary Lord Darklief.” Samyael replied, his tone cold. “Could there be a worse crime where the King of Lords is concerned? Lest the female be his bedmate?”
Aiken heard a whistle fly through his teeth that immediately made him grant Samyael a sardonic grin. He sounded all too much like Lady Lucias for his own taste when he made that frustrated noise.
Samyael, whose wit could never be called into question, returned the smile.
“He has changed me.”
“That isn’t the worst thing that could happen to you.” Aiken advised him. “Demons are looked down upon. You’re being elevated socially.”
“Would you feel the same where they to announce that you were to now be an elf?” Samyael asked him, his black eyes blazing. “Given the elves have stolen the favor that the fairies once claimed.”
“No.” Aiken agreed at once. He walked toward Samyael and stroked his cheek. He did love this demon, in his own way. “I’m sorry Sam. That was very insensitive of me . . .”
Samyael smiled up at him. “No matter, my Lord.”
Grateful for the demon’s understanding, Aiken turned away from him. “You’ll be in a position to go on watching him.” He looked over his shoulder, wary of Samyael despite the fact that reason screamed at him that he had no call to be. “If you wish to continue serving Loki, that is.”
“I do.” Samyael swallowed. “I love him.” His eyes darted away. “I feel nothing for the King of Lords but disdain.”
“You would do well to hold on to such.” Aiken reminded him. “After your binding to him is complete.”
“I am bound to Loki.” Samyael whispered. “The color of my wings will not dispel such magic from my soul.”
Pleased with Samyael on so many levels, Aiken stepped toward him, laced his hand through his hair to bend him forward, and kissed him, this time, on the lips.
-47-
Samyael approached Lord Loki very cautiously. He, above everyone else, had marked the changes in his Master since Lord Loki had lost his head. Yet, these changes seemed small in light of those that had come recently.
There was a power about Lord Loki, now, that was almost as intimidating as that which Lady Lucias and the King of Lords possessed. Having been warned by Emissary Lord Darklief to refrain from eating more of the forbidden fruit of the tree, Samyael had a small fear and idea where this power had come from.
“Excuse me,” Samyael announced himself timidly. “My Lord?”
“Sam?” Lord Loki looked upward, surprise masking his features. He stood, almost at once, and darted around the desk. He ran forward, grasped Sam’s shoulder’s and looked, searching and imploring, into Samyael’s eyes. “How are you? Is he treating you well?”
“Well enough.” Samyael forced himself to smile. “And you, my Lord?”
“Well enough.” Lord Loki grinned at him as he pulled him into a warm embrace before, all too quickly, pushing him away. “You put yourself in danger by coming here.”
“I do.” Samyael lowered his gaze. “But, my Lord, I must warn you.”
“Warn me?”
“Emissary Lord Darklief . . .” Sam swallowed the betrayal that welled in his heart. He loved Aiken. He had even lain with him from time to time. Yet, his deepest loyalty belonged to Lord Loki. “He’s . . . meddling.”
Lord Loki chuckled deep from within his chest. “Totally out of character.”
Sam had no choice but to smile at the truth of those words.
“Enough that it troubles you, however.”
“Ta.” Samyael felt a moment bit of relief wash through him. “He’s . . . spying.”
“On?”
“His betters.” Samyael replied, eyes wide, as he shrugged. “The King of Lords and—”
He bit his tongue. Something deep within his soul told him not to mention that he had been set by Emissary Lord Darklief in regard to the Prince of Providence.
“And?”
“It troubles me.”
Lord Loki, who hadn’t a clue that Samyael had partaken of the fruit—or what the fruit had the power to do—grinned. He reached forward and clapped Samyael on the back of his shoulder with warm, masculine affection.
“I trust you will not let Aiken run amok where Noliminan is concerned.” Loki winked at him. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Emissary Lord Darklief is a storm that cannot be reigned in.” Samyael reminded Lord Loki, though with a heart tinged of relief. “Which is why I come to you. He’s meddling with the fate of the elves. Despite the King of Lords’ orders that you Gods refrain.”
“I’m aware of this.” Lord Loki’s brow furrowed. “For James.”
“For James.” Samyael agreed. “But also because it is the right thing to do.” He swallowed. “You do know what the demons and vampires are doing to the elves?”
“I’m aware.” Lord Loki’s tone was flat. “I also know that I cannot interfere with this matter right now.”
“I don’t ask you to.” Samyael met his gaze and held it. He wanted Lord Loki to know that he wasn’t playing games with him or lying to him. “I only meant to warn you that Emissary Lord Darklief is not quite as cautious.”
“Then keep an eye on him Sam.” Lord Loki implored. “For me.” He sighed and looked away. “Please.”
“I shall.” Samyael promised. “And will I continue to report my findings to you?”
Lord Loki blinked and returned his gaze to Sam. His lips were curling into a grin beneath the bush of his goatee.
“Yes, Sam.” He replied, his tone gentle. “When you can.”
“I am ever yours.” Samyael reminded him. “No matter who, in name, I serve.”
As Countenance’s shadows pass him by Loki has learned, by Samyael’s actions, that truer words could have never been said.
-48-
“You’ve gone to visit her Gods be damned grave again?” Karma stormed as she stepped toward Michael. “What is the damn fascination? She’s dead, Michael! And you have responsibilities here!”
Michael ignored her. He wasn’t in the mood to placate her, or anyone else. He had just learned that his sister had been attacked by Noliminan for the sheer audacity of being present in the room during a conversation she hadn’t been meant to overhear.
And, no doubt, her presence had been required at his former Master’s orders.
“Leave off.” He grumbled, pushing her out of the way. “Unless you have news.”
“News.” She spat. “What news?
“How fair my children?” Michael barked, irritated. “My gargoyles.”
“Perhaps if you spent more time—”
“Karma.” Max shook his head. “Don’t agitate him.”
“Agitate.” She grumbled and spun away.
Michael watched her storm out of the room and turned his gaze to Max. His nostrils flared and his eyes narrow. Until he realized he wasn’t angry with Maxium.
“Why is she so upset?”
“She doesn’t understand your obsession with the Queen of Ladies.” Max shrugged. “Given she died a Lord.”
“She wasn’t a Lord.” Michael growled. “She may have been born that way. And she may have died that way.” He shook his head. “She didn’t live that way.”
“Mortals don’t have the luxury of waning and waxing their sex.” Maxium shrugged. “You can’t expect her to understand.”
Despite himself, Michael had no choice but to agree.
“What must I know?” He asked. “About my children?”
“Haniel’s stew has made the sickness pass.” Max smiled at him. “Your children, what remains of them, should thrive.”
Michael sighed his relief and nodded at his servant.
“I know it’s a touchy subject.”
“Then don’t raise it.” Michael warned.
Max only smiled at him. He
had never been obedient.
“What?”
“Your new station.” Max lowered his gaze. “Serving Lord Lucias.”
“Hasn’t been defined.” Michael barked. “And now he has Metatron and Mihr.”
“Mihr?”
Michael turned toward the sound of Karma’s voice and glared at her. She had a damn nasty habit of getting under his skin.
“What on which moon could Mihr have done—?”
“What on which moon could I have done?” Michael seethed. “Or Metatron, for that matter!” He shook his head. “He’s a fool.”
“Michael!” Max cried. “Don’t say those words. It’s blasphemy!”
“Then blasphemy it is.” Michael grumbled before turning away from them both and storming toward his room. He stopped at the hall and returned to face them. “Damn me for it. But I see him for what he is now.” Karma and Maxium exchanged a guarded glance that Michael didn’t much care for at those words. “And I am grateful that I shall never be forced to supplicate to him again.”
-49-
Sezja read the letter, crumpled it up and threw it into the fire.
Be on the lookout, its author had warned her. Trust no one new. Especially if they wear the face of a human.
She raised her gaze to the orphan that Prince Trevor had found wandering the Great Road. He was a young thing of eight or nine and he had the innocent face of an angel.
Still, she thought, he bears heavy watching.
She raised her hand and set it upon the swell of her belly. The babe would be coming soon.
Closing her eyes she raised her face to the Heavens, sought out the Lady Theasis and prayed.
-50-
Aiken was beginning to get extremely irritated with Ishitar’s constant presence in Loki’s apartment. It seemed, to Aiken, as though he was no longer to be afforded a private conversation with his friend. It was almost as if Ishitar was aware of Aiken’s growing mistrust of him and so made it a point to be ever present to prevent the fairy God from sharing his concerns with his friend.
Not that he would.
He was aware of the special bond that had formed between Ishitar and Loki. There was nothing that he could say to Loki to break that bond. Because of this, he decided to bide his time and simply watch.
Quiet defiance, he had learned over time, could sometimes take a person further than direct confrontation.
“You just missed Sam.” Loki grinned at him. “He would have loved to have seen you.”
Aiken forced a smile. He had seen and talked to Samyael before Sam had sought out Loki. “That’s bad luck.”
“Indeed.” Loki smiled in response. “He looks well.”
“I’m pleased to hear that.” Aiken meant that sentiment. He worried every day that he would hear that Samyael had somehow been molested by the King of Lords. If Noliminan knew that Sam were spying on him, all manner of every Hell would reign down upon the child. “How does he feel about the new color of his wings?”
Loki chuckled and shook his head. “That one’s a survivor.” He grinned. “Always has been. He’ll be fine.”
Aiken gave him a curt nod and turned his gaze to Ishitar. He sat quietly on his favorite chair, watching Aiken with that strange, contemplative smile he always wore.
The dog, Aiken noticed, was queerly absent.
“Have you been watching the goings on between Jamiason and his elf?” Aiken asked, turning his attention back to Loki. “It would seem that Iykva’s aligned himself with the House of Fyrsoth.”
“Has he, now?” Loki replied, distractedly, as he turned his attention to the tome on his desk. “That promises to be entertaining. Aren’t they sworn enemies of the Devonshires?”
“Ta.” Aiken bit his tongue. He had just about enough of Loki’s obsession with that fucking tome. Especially when he was trying to make a point and was being ignored for it. “They are.”
“What does James intend to do about it?” Loki seemed almost bored by the conversation as he turned the page that he had been reading.
Aiken was ready to explode upon him with anger.
“I’m certain he’ll call in the elves’ allies.” He snapped. “What do you intend to do about it?”
“It isn’t my war, Aiken.” Loki raised his gaze at the tone of Aiken’s admonishment. “There’s nothing I can do about it. Unlike you, I do not govern a mortal race that I can direct to Iladrul’s aide.”
“You’re the Sovereign Lord now.” Aiken reminded him, unnecessarily. “Raise the issue to the Lady Regent and demand that she asks Noliminan to interfere.”
Loki assessed him with his dark, purple eyes. His expression was unreadable. Finally, he let out a long sigh and shook his head.
“He told us not to interfere.” He muttered. “Now is not the time to test him.”
“If not now, then when?” Aiken’s frustration with his friend was overwhelming. “You obviously have his ear! Otherwise you wouldn’t be wearing Raziel’s crown!”
“A crown that’s been newly set.” Loki leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I know you want to help James. And, although I understand why, now is not the time. I can’t risk losing my position. Lucias needs me where I am. I can’t give Noliminan a reason to change his mind.”
Aiken shot an angry glance in Ishitar’s direction. The strange smile he wore made the fairy shiver. He was enjoying this little diatribe.
What are you so damn smug about?
He shook his head and returned his attention to Loki.
“Fine.” He groused. “Don’t help me; don’t help James. Just sit there and do what you’ve always done: let Lady Lucias manipulate your moves and then blame everyone else around you when it all goes horribly wrong.”
Frustrated and angry with his friend, Aiken spun on his heel and stormed out of the room. As he slammed the door behind him, he very nearly tripped over Ansibrius. He glared at her, not liking the fire burning in her strange, intelligent eyes.
Knowing kicking her would be an unwise move, he stormed out of Loki’s apartment to seek counsel from one of Jamiason’s old friends.
-51-
Ishitar excused himself from the room almost immediately after Aiken left them. Na’amah slipped in when the door opened, watching him with a slight frown before turning her gaze to Loki. Loki, who had been staring at the door with quiet interest since the moment that Aiken had left him, lowered his gaze to meet hers.
“I thought I put you to task.”
“I came to report that they’ve both, wisely, returned to their own quarters.” She advised him. “I believe if they are both careful they shall be overlooked.”
“Good.” He muttered. His eyes flicked to the door and then back to meet her gaze. “Do me a favor, Na’amah.” She whined. “Follow one or the other of them—I don’t care which—and report back to me anything that they do which you find curious.”
“I refuse to betray Ishitar.”
“Then perhaps it’s best you follow Aiken.” Loki suggested with a raised brow. “As I said, I don’t care which.” His eyes narrowed slightly, causing her to shiver. “Given Aiken’s temperament just now, perhaps he bears the most watching, anyway.”
Na’amah, who had seen the fire in Aiken’s eyes as he looked upon her, couldn’t have agreed more.
-52-
I must admit that I would have preferred that Na’amah followed Ishitar rather than Aiken. My eyes were already glued to the fairy God, whereas my boy passed out of my sight until such time as he wanted to be seen.
The buzzing nest of Aiken’s thoughts had been clear to me for some time. As I’ve said before, Aiken no longer trusted the Prince of Providence. And I, who oft times looked upon Ishitar and saw the face of both his mother and father, was beginning to wonder if he were up to his old games.
If the King of Lords could fool me into believing he was Lord Loki, who was as different from Noliminan as night was to day, then he could fool me into believing he was anyone.
Sighing, I
pushed the thought from my mind.
There was nothing I could do to calm my ever growing doubts now. Ishitar was out of my line of sight and I couldn’t read his thoughts or emotions even if he were not. In this particular matter, I was left to form my own opinions based on personal observations and my maddening ability to read others.
Aiken’s course would have been predictable even if I hadn’t already known where he was going. He meant to see Evanbourough to convince him that he must speak with Jamiason and warn him to force his people to stand down. With Ishitar, Lucias and Noliminan standing on polar opposite corners of a triangle of disagreement, nothing good could come of the demons and the vampires in their attempt to oppress the elves.
“He’ll listen to you.” Aiken grumbled as he fell into one of Evanbourough high backed chair. “You’re his God! His ruler! He can’t tell you no.”
“You were his Master and he managed to slough you off.” Evanbourough snapped at Aiken. He found it pointless to remind Aiken that Jamiason was now, also, a God. “Don’t underestimate that child’s will.”
Aiken gave him an impatient glare but made no response. What response could he give? Evanbourough was right. There was no controlling Jami when he had a burr stuffed up his backside.
“Why is this so urgent for you, anyway?” Evanbourough asked, his curiosity thrumming through his mind. “What interest have you in the elf? Other than Jamiason’s happiness, that is?”
Aiken thought about his response for a long moment. He had never really trusted Evanbourough after Evan had jilted Theasis. Even if he were Aiken’s main link to Jamiason’s salvation, he didn’t much trust him now.
Evan was one of those men, in Aiken’s estimation, that used what he wanted when he needed to and then threw it into the wind like a piece of muddled trash.
“My people are involved in this war too.”
“At James’ request.” Evanbourough smiled thinly at him.
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