Nonetheless, he hit his com: “Deven, get back here now. Lesela’s down.”
Suddenly a hand seized his forearm—bloody, shaking, but with an iron grip born of the desperation of her final minutes. He covered her hand with his, meeting her pain-glazed eyes.
“Help is coming,” he said. “Just hold on another minute.”
She gave him a soft, regretful smile. “Tell him…”
He knew what he was hearing.
Last words.
He leaned closer, still holding onto her hand, his other touching her face, trying to offer some comfort, any comfort. “Go on.”
She took as much of a breath as she could and murmured something in his ear that, at first, didn’t make much sense. He simply filed the words away and kept his attention on her until—
“Well now…where were we?”
David lifted his head and looked at Nico, who had returned to the doorway, covered in blood but still utterly indifferent to his own actions.
Before the Prime could say anything, though, the Elf’s head snapped around to the left with a horrible crack, and he dropped to the ground, silence falling with him.
Behind him, Deven’s eyes were pure silver, almost burning, and his teeth were out.
He was at Lesela’s side in a heartbeat, but he had to know, as David had known, that it was too late. The light had gone out of the Elf’s eyes, and her hand went limp in David’s.
David checked for a pulse, though it was unnecessary. He met Deven’s eyes. The elder Prime didn’t seem to know what to do.
“She said something,” David told him quietly. “Something I should tell you.” At Deven’s raised eyebrow, David repeated, “‘The child of the evening still lives.’ Does that mean anything to you? Was it prophecy?”
“The child of the evening…” Deven looked down, shaking his head, but not out of ignorance.
“That’s what she told me.”
“It’s not a metaphor…it’s a name. Elendala Seara.”
“Is that someone you know?”
“No,” Deven replied, closing his eyes. “It’s my mother.”
Chapter Fifteen
The door of the interrogation room slammed shut with the reverberating finality of a tomb.
“If he so much as twitches, break his neck again—don’t give him a chance to regain consciousness until I permit it.”
The four Elite he’d assigned to guard Nico’s body bowed in assent. They all looked as bewildered as he felt, and uneasy about what they’d been ordered to do. Neck snapping was considered fairly extreme as a sedative among vampires; it worked, yes, but it was difficult to heal and could take days before the victim regained the full range of motion. Anything involving the nervous system was tricky. Doing it over and over again could cause long-term, though not permanent, damage to the body, and had been known to permanently affect the mind. David could only assume that Nico would come out of it faster than the average.
But they had few alternatives. The tranquilizer Deven had dosed him with last time only worked for half an hour at most, and a few doses in Nico had already started to develop a tolerance. There was no place here they could keep him that he couldn’t escape, if he was conscious and able to move; he could Mist anywhere he liked, and even if he couldn’t he could build a portal without breaking a sweat and vanish into the city to unleash his wrath upon the entire population.
David stared through the window at his lover, who had been chained down this time despite the wrongness of it. Hopefully he wouldn’t wake to find himself bound; but if he did, and lashed out, the chains gave the guards a moment to get into the cell and put him out again. It was awful, sickening, and David didn’t know what else to do.
A moment later Deven reappeared. He didn’t look well at all—God knew what echoes he was catching from his Consort’s broken mind. And while he might be pretending not to care much about Lesela, he had insisted on taking care of her body himself.
“Did you bury her?” David asked quietly.
Deven shook his head, eyes on the window. “We need to send her back to Avilon, but we don’t know when or if that will be possible, so…I had her burned. There are guards keeping watch who will collect the ashes.”
He looked at Deven curiously. “She’s not a vampire, though—sunlight won’t burn her, and doesn’t it take an incredibly high temperature to reduce a non-vampire to ash?”
“I know how to burn a body, David,” Deven snapped. Then, he gestured vaguely and said, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. How are you holding up?”
“I’m not.” Deven couldn’t seem to look at him—he often had trouble with eye contact when he was in tears or otherwise overcome. “I can’t take this anymore. I was barely holding it together as it was, and now…”
The emotion on Deven’s face was one David had only rarely ever seen—one most people didn’t think he was capable of. Fear.
Unable to resist the urge to do something, anything, David reached over and took his hand, squeezed it. “You’re not alone.”
“What else can be taken from me? Who else can I lose? Miranda? You, again? Who else do I love? And none of this would have happened if—”
“Stop right there,” David told him firmly. “You’re free to feel however you feel, but at least do it from the truth, not from this delusion you have that you’re some kind of immortal plague rat. We are all culpable in all of this to one degree or another. And besides…not an ounce of blame is going to get us out of this.” David took hold of his chin and forced their eyes to meet. “So stop being a dick to someone I love, and get your head back in the game.”
Deven looked away, eyes bright. “I’ve got nothing,” he said. “If you have some brilliant plan now would be the time to share it.”
He was right. There was no more time to lose. Miranda might not have had a chance to work on her Weaving, but they had to trust that she could do it—Persephone had believed she could, and it was She who had given Miranda the ability in the first place. This was the place for a leap of faith if ever there was one.
“Come on,” he told Deven, taking his hand again. “We need to talk and we can’t do it here. Miranda will be home shortly.”
Before Deven could reply, David hauled him along into a Mist, emerging in the Signet Suite where everything was so normal, so peaceful, it made the whole night seem even more painful.
David took off his coat and disarmed, then went to change; he returned from the closet with some of Miranda’s black cotton off-duty wear and handed it to Deven.
“You’re all bloody,” he told Deven. “Go wash off and get comfortable. I think you need to stay here with us tonight.”
Deven gave him an incredulous look. “Here? With you?”
David recognized the worry in Dev’s expression and sighed, mentally tapping on his com and saying, “Star Two.”
A second later Miranda replied, “Star-Two.”
“Deven’s in a fairly dreadful state and I think he should sleep in our room tonight, but I want him to hear your opinion.”
“Of course he should! Dev, get in bed. As your Queen, that’s an order.”
A smile flickered on Deven’s face. “You’re not really my—“
“The hell I’m not. Now do as you’re told.”
Deven smiled a little more. “Yes, my Lady.” He gave David a look of faint amusement.
David pointed silently at the bathroom.
Almost laughing, Deven did as the Queen had commanded.
David flopped down on the bed and took care of a few odds and ends while he waited for Miranda to get home and Deven to return; he ran a quick check on the sensor network, scanned the patrol reports for the night, checked for any urgent messages from Jacob that would indicate a Signet had gone down. The night-to-night work of running most of the country never stopped, not even for Elf emergencies.
They apparently had a moment’s reprieve; nothing dramatic had occur
red that night at all outside the Haven, either in his territories or overseas. He was surprised—in their lives shit-storms were almost always Category 4.
Deven emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. The sleeveless shirt David had filched from Miranda gave him a magnificent look at Dev’s tattoos—and biceps. David decided to pretend that wasn’t why he’d picked it.
Again, the Prime looked reluctant to follow David to the bed, and said halfheartedly, “I could take the couch…”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” David stretched out and lifted the covers, patting the mattress. “Look, I know you don’t want to cause a problem, but in case you haven’t noticed, there isn’t one. Not anymore. Miranda would be thrilled to have you here under any circumstances, and I’m not complaining either.” More quietly, he added, “I know you’re on the precipice. You can lay it all down here, for now. You need to feel safe, and we can protect you. Nothing that comes through that door will survive the walk across the room with the two of us here.”
Finally, Deven acquiesced, and lay down next to him, letting David tuck him in and draw him close. David had to smile—it was the first time in a long time they’d been in bed together like this, without any shame lurking around the headboard just waiting to pounce. Things were so different now…different from a few years ago, yes, but also different from decades ago, when their relationship had been anything but safe.
“I think you’re wrong,” Deven told him softly, still able to pick up on his thoughts. “We damn near killed each other on a regular basis and did unspeakable things to each other’s hearts, but when we were together like this, in the quiet of the morning…I knew I was safe. You were the only lover I would ever trust to protect me.”
Something dark and frightened crossed his face, and he shivered and buried his head in David’s shoulder, fingers digging into David’s arm.
“I think he might be gone for good this time,” Deven said in a harsh whisper. “Before, underneath the anger, at least there was some flicker of who he was…I can’t feel that anymore. All I feel is hate…for me, for you, for everyone and everything. I think he would kill me, or himself, except he wouldn’t get to enjoy watching me die. But the second we let him wake he’s coming after you.”
“Not if we come after him first,” David replied. “We do have a plan, Dev…it was better when Lesela was here to help, but I think what’s among the three of us will be enough, and the circumstances are as ideal as they’re going to get. But…you’re going to have to trust us, more than you ever have before.”
“I trust you as much as I am capable of,” Deven said tiredly, closing his eyes. “I hope that’s enough.”
“It’s a start.”
Finally, he murmured, “I’m scared, David…of what else he might do, who he might hurt…scared I won’t ever get him back and have a chance to make this right…and scared that even if he does come back, he’ll be so broken he might as well have died. How is he supposed to live with all of this? The guilt is going to destroy him…assuming it’s not too late already.”
“You’ll have a chance,” David told him with a kiss to his forehead. “I give you my word.”
A slight smile. “Well, if I have the word of David Solomon, fate had better watch its back.”
“Damn right.”
“Can you forgive me for how I’ve behaved?” Deven asked, shifting back to look in his face. “I know you were avoiding me this whole year, and I’m rather glad you did, given how I treated everyone.”
David smiled. “I forgive you. I’ll always forgive you. There are things that I’ve come to accept about us in these few years. I wasn’t ready to own up to most of it until Miranda made it clear it was okay, that she wasn’t going to get angry at whatever I felt.”
“And…what do you feel?”
“I should think it would be perfectly obvious,” David said wryly. “I love you, never stopped, can’t stop, won’t. That’s just how it is, and I’m finally okay with that. I need you to be, too, if you can.”
Pale eyes lifted up to his. “I think I can now.”
“Good.”
He felt Deven’s body gradually go slack, and lay in the warm darkness for a while, listening to him breathe. He could feel Miranda’s presence drawing closer, and once she had arrived at the Haven, it was only a matter of minutes before there was movement at the door.
The Queen swept in in full Miranda Grey the Celebrity regalia, carrying her guitar case but still armed to the teeth. She paused just inside to remove some of her gear and hang it near the door, but stopped when she saw Deven was asleep; she caught David’s gaze and raised an eyebrow.
He wasn’t quite sure how to convey the situation in a gesture, but luckily he didn’t have to; she could see it on his face. He’d told her what happened in a quiet phone call while waiting for the guards to finish chaining up Nico. He wasn’t sure how to classify her reaction to learning Morningstar had Kai, Nico had just killed Deven’s grandmother, and their timetable had accelerated drastically, but she had been, and was still, calm and in command.
To think once upon a time he’d been unsure if she could handle bearing a Signet. In a lot of ways she was better at it than he’d ever been.
She nodded, then said quietly, “How are you?”
“I’ve been better,” he replied. “Everything settled out there?”
“I think so. Having Maguire and Myers there was a good idea. I could sense a lot of hostility toward the police but I think seeing all of us up there together helped. If nothing else I made it clear that anyone harassing the detectives will answer to me.”
David smiled. “That should do it, then.”
She paused by the bed and looked down at its occupants, sadness edging the satisfaction from her eyes. “Are you keeping him under?”
“No. He’s just that tired.”
“Poor kitten,” she said, very lightly touching Deven’s sleeping face. “You’re right…we can’t wait any longer.”
“Do you think you can do it?”
“I have to, don’t I?” She stepped back and went to remove her boots. “If we’re going to find Kai, stop Morningstar, get that ritual from the Codex done, move forward at all…we can’t do it like this. We need our Weaver back, and we need everyone at full strength. No matter how you look at it the first step is to get that barrier down.” She looked at him. “Did you talk it over?”
“Not yet. I thought it best if you were here.”
Another nod. “I’m going to take a shower…let’s let him sleep a little longer. If he’s going to do his part he needs to be at least somewhat alert.”
She definitely had a point. Left alone again in the comfortable quiet with someone he’d long, long missed having in his arms, David let himself drift off too, trying to pretend for a moment that nothing existed beyond the suite door.
*****
She could feel her Prime falling asleep as she stripped off her clothes and waited for the shower spray to heat up. After the night he’d had, she was thankful he could catch even a few moments’ rest…and she needed a moment as well.
She’d been holding it together pretty well, she thought, for most of the last hour. She’d felt what David would describe as a “great disturbance in the Force” but couldn’t figure out exactly who or what it was about until her phone rang and he unloaded, as gently as possible, the night’s events.
Kai missing, presumably in the hands of Morningstar. Deven’s grandmother here, then gone, but gone forever, at Nico’s hand. Nico chained in a cell with his neck broken. It was a lot to process…too much, it turned out.
Miranda sagged against the shower wall and let herself cry for a while. She could have let it out in front of the boys—they’d hardly judge her for it—but she wanted to be careful about the atmosphere in the bedroom for the next few hours. She knew Deven was dangerously close to another breakdown, and this time they probably wouldn’t get him back.
And would
they ever see their Nico again? And even if they did, how would he live with himself? Lesela had been his friend, once his lover. It was her prophetic gift that had sent him to the Shadow World. Not to mention she was his Prime’s only living relative, the only one who could answer the questions Miranda knew Deven had about his history. Now they would never get to know each other; she would never have a chance to see beneath the angry exterior to the wonderful creature in which it turned out her family line had ended.
And Kai…Miranda wept into the shower spray as she imagined him being torn apart as Nico had been…cut open, violated in such intimate and agonizing ways…stripped of every defense, including sanity, and left with…what? What would be left of Kai? Would he end up like his brother? She pictured him that way, his confidence and that stubborn will broken into shards…Elves healed quickly, but not always completely. They could scar. Kai didn’t have Nico’s vampiric regenerative ability. If they did to him what the Inquisition had done to Deven all those years ago, broke his hands…he would never play again…assuming he would even want to.
She shut her eyes and leaned sideways against the tiled wall, praying silently to anyone out there that Kai wouldn’t have to face what Nico had, wouldn’t be tortured, and wouldn’t lose his life’s work because of them. It was bad enough that their war had swallowed Nico—at least he’d come here and gotten involved willingly. Kai had only left Avilon for his brother, not to join the fight against Morningstar and certainly not to become a pawn for either side.
The bathroom was dense with clouds of steam when she reached for her towel. If they failed tonight…if she failed…she shuddered at the thought and wished she could do something like crossing herself or knocking on wood that would actually help.
The Queen pulled on her bathrobe, holding her breath steady. She had to stay grounded. She closed her eyes and groped after the image of the Web she’d managed to find at her piano, just to be sure it was still there.
Shadowstorm (The Shadow World Book 6) Page 28
