Triad Soul

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Triad Soul Page 25

by Nathan Burgoine


  They looked at each other. There was still fear, yes, but Luc knew full well the predator urge to survive would advise them.

  “I would like you to lead the coterie,” Luc said to the woman. “I believe you have understanding enough to help the others through the basics, and Étienne has agreed to aid you more directly. He will also bring your voice to me.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, seemed to change her mind about what she was going to say, and then closed it. She nodded once. “Okay.”

  “Good. I will give you all time now to decide. Ten minutes?”

  The nine shifted their stances, a few looking at each other. The woman turned, facing the rest, and led them to the corner of the room. Their voices, even pitched low, came easily to his ears.

  “Do we really have a choice?” said one.

  “I don’t even know you people,” said another.

  Luc turned to Étienne. “What do you think?” he said.

  Étienne’s gentle expression was a surprise to Luc. If anything, he appeared almost paternal, looking at the group of lone vampires with a fondness Luc would never have imagined. Clearly, Luc was unaware of some history here.

  “I hope they agree,” Étienne said.

  “As do I.”

  Étienne touched a thumb to his bottom lip and dropped his voice to the barest of whispers. Untrained in their senses, the nine across the room were unlikely to hear him over their own voices. “Why her? To lead, I mean.”

  “Ah,” Luc said, matching his pitch. “That’s Cynthia Windsor. Likely you know her mother, Katrina Windsor.”

  “The coven head?” Étienne’s eyebrows rose.

  “Yes.”

  “How…?” Étienne didn’t seem to know how to finish the sentence. “How?”

  “She had terminal cancer,” Luc said. “Her younger sister, a wizard I’m told has a great deal of talent, decided she did not wish to lose her elder sister to the disease.”

  “Is Cynthia a warlock, then?” Étienne said. Most wizards lost all magical ability when they were turned. Warlocks were not common, though in recent enough months Luc had met two already, Renard included. But then, Renard had discovered a method to ensure he would be one of the few.

  “I’m told her younger sister, Mackenzie, was very thorough in her research,” Luc said.

  Étienne grinned. It made him appear almost boyish. “Do you think Malcolm Stirling knows?”

  Luc tilted his head. “I certainly doubt it. But I confess I find myself looking forward to telling him.”

  “I’ll bet,” Étienne said.

  “Excuse me?”

  They turned. The nine vampires were standing in front of them again.

  Cynthia bowed to him, a low bow befitting his position as Duc. Apparently, Mackenzie wasn’t the only daughter of Katrina Windsor who did her research.

  “We accept,” she said.

  *

  They were a quiet group. Mackenzie poured the tea and they’d all settled in around the table, but the usual sense of camaraderie was off.

  Curtis exhaled. He’d spoken with Luc. He knew the news was out. He hadn’t expected this, however. “What’s the goal for tonight?”

  Mackenzie looked at him, and he thought he saw something like relief in her eyes that he’d broken the silence.

  “Maybe we could try scrying again?” Matthew suggested.

  “Please no,” Rebekah said. It was the first she’d spoken since she’d arrived. When he’d gotten to the Windsor Manor, Mackenzie had admitted she had no idea if Rebekah was going to make it or not. But she’d arrived, the last of the group to do so, and there’d been pretty much silence ever since.

  “I’d like to work on a new pair of glasses,” Curtis said. “But I don’t think it’s really a good group project.”

  The silence returned. Dale pulled Tracey against his shoulder. Tracey took his hand and squeezed.

  “Okay, enough,” Mackenzie said.

  Everyone looked up.

  “Let’s just say it. My sister didn’t die, and I lied to all of you about it for nearly two years.” She held her chin up. “I’m not going to apologize.”

  “It’s not what you did,” Tracey said. “It’s how you didn’t tell any of us.”

  “Most of us,” Dale added, but Curtis met his gaze until Dale looked away.

  “You can’t heal cancer,” Mackenzie said. “Magic just speeds it up. You all know that. She was dying, and…” For the first time, Mackenzie faltered. “Look. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys. I am. But the thing is, it was dangerous. She was alone. I had no way to find her a coterie, and the vampire I paid to turn her, he…” She shook her head.

  “What happened to him?” Curtis said.

  Mackenzie shook her head. “I don’t really know. What we did was pretty dangerous, and it wasn’t here. We went to Montreal…” She waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Did you know?” Dale said to Matthew.

  Matthew shook his head. “No.” Was it Curtis’s imagination, or was real hurt in Matthew’s voice?

  “Guys,” Rebekah said. “This isn’t fair. She was looking out for her sister. Of course she didn’t tell us.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Dale said.

  “What?” Rebekah turned on him.

  “It’s not like you’ve been honest with us, either,” Tracey said. “We knew about your brother, sure, but you never told us you were, y’know…”

  Rebekah stared her down.

  Oh, this is fun.

  “Guys,” Curtis said. They more or less turned their attention back to him. “Let’s be honest. You all have things you haven’t told each other. And that’s smart. Lord knows I’ve got stuff I haven’t told you.”

  “Maybe it’s time to let this group go,” Mackenzie said.

  “No,” Curtis said. “Not at all.”

  “Curt,” Rebekah said. “She’s only saying what we’re all thinking.”

  “Then you’re all wrong. Do you know how we managed to save your brother’s life, and figure out Wheeler was the loup-garou, and how you ended up inheriting your gift, and how Mackenzie’s sister finally got a coterie and…” He threw up a hand. “And pretty much everything else that’s happened in the past week?”

  No one answered.

  “We worked together,” Curtis said. “And we shared whatever the others needed to know. You know who is crappy at doing that? The Families. You guys? You’re the future. You need to be better than them.”

  Mackenzie picked up her cup of tea and took a sip. “Did you practice that speech?”

  Curtis blushed. “Little bit.”

  “Wasn’t bad,” Matthew said.

  “I would have sworn more,” Rebekah said.

  “So,” Dale said, leaning forward. “Now what?”

  Tracey picked up her cup.

  “Curtis is going to be building a new house in spring,” she said. “Maybe we could teach him some things about wards.”

  Dale started talking about the merits of hawthorn when warding against vampires, and Matthew chimed in about nolites, which were apparently a way to seal windows and doorways from thieves. When Rebekah started explaining illusion-based wards that could make you unconsciously look in the other direction, rather than at whatever was warded, Curtis felt himself finally relax.

  He looked at Mackenzie.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  The discussion paused.

  “Any time,” Curtis said.

  “Have you considered using hematite on the door locks?” she said.

  “I don’t even know why I’d do that,” Curtis said.

  “Listen and learn, little man,” Mackenzie said.

  *

  The small office in the arts tower was as tidy as usual. Anders looked around the place, wondering if he might have missed any clues, but really, it was an academic’s office in a university tower and it wasn’t like he’d done much studying here.

  The professor was talking to a student when And
ers arrived. Anders loomed in the open doorway until Mann noticed him.

  Whatever Mann had been saying about some poem set somewhere with unpronounceable names, he lost his train of thought and stuttered to a halt. The student he was speaking with, a red-haired woman with freckles across her nose, looked at her professor, then followed his gaze to Anders at the doorway.

  She ogled him openly, eyes widening.

  “Got a minute?” Anders said to Mann.

  “Perhaps we could finish this after class on Friday?”

  The redhead nodded. “Sure.” She gathered her stuff, and as she passed Anders in the doorway, he was pretty sure she checked out his ass.

  Youth today. Anders approved.

  Anders stepped inside and closed the door. When he pressed the small lock with a click, Mann flinched.

  “So,” Anders said. “You’re a spy and a sorcerer.”

  “Yes. Though neither had any effect on my…arrangement with you.”

  Anders crossed his arms. “Really?”

  Mann met his gaze, unflinching. “Really.”

  Huh. How about that. Anders believed him.

  “What does Stirling want to know about Curtis?”

  Mann rubbed his dark beard. “Anything he thinks might be useful. But to be honest, your friend has never done anything in my class that qualified, though he writes an extraordinary paper. He’s very intelligent.”

  “He has the brains,” Anders said. He took a step forward and leaned on the desk, spreading both hands on the surface. “I have the brawn. You do anything that gets him in any kind of trouble? We’re going to have a problem.”

  The scent of burning wood filled the air.

  Mann nodded. “I…understand.”

  “Good.” Anders straightened. The handprints he’d left behind in the desk should serve as a decent reminder. He walked over to the small cabinet where he knew Mann kept a small supply of restraints and other toys. Toys they’d enjoyed before, here in the office. Tipping up a small stone Celtic cross decoration on the top shelf, Anders picked up the small key beneath it and unlocked the cabinet.

  “You’re going to teach me about sorcerers,” Anders said. “And you’re going to answer all my questions about Stirling, the Families, and anything else I ask. At least until the gag goes in.”

  “Yes sir.” Mann swallowed. “What do you want to know?”

  Anders pulled out a small loop of rope. “Maybe we should start with why a professor like you has all those pretty tattoos. They’re not just for show, are they?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Let’s start at the top and work our way down. There will be prizes for good answers.”

  Epilogue

  When he saw no one was waiting for him in the kitchen, their usual spot when Curtis came home from class, Curtis frowned, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it up in the hall closet. He took a moment to get his boots off before he called out.

  “Anyone home?”

  “We’re in the dining room.”

  Luc. That was one benefit of February, even if Curtis was very ready for spring. The sun went down before six. He liked coming home and finding Luc up and about. He wondered what the two were doing in the dining room, though. Luc didn’t eat, though he often joined Anders and Curtis with a glass of wine while they had dinner. Which Curtis had to cook, unless Anders had ordered a pizza or something.

  Curtis walked into the dining room and came to a dead halt.

  The table was set with white linen, three settings around one end. Pretty white roses were on the table, just barely opening from their buds, as well as white tapered candles already lit. A bottle of wine was chilling in a stand beside the table. It was beautiful.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” Luc said.

  “What he said,” Anders said.

  Curtis turned. The two men couldn’t have looked more different, and yet they were both so mouth-wateringly appealing. Luc’s suit was as white as the tablecloth, with a crisp white shirt and—the only splash of colour—a red tie. His dark hair was less ordered than usual, with just the hint of a wave, and the lazy smile he sported went right to Curtis’s knees, which barely held him up. Luc looked like he belonged on the cover of a romance novel, and Curtis was pretty sure he’d consent to being Luc’s kidnapped pregnant princess mistress bride or whatever else Luc wanted, if Luc kept smiling when he asked.

  Anders had on a sleeveless white shirt and a simple pair of khakis, and while it didn’t hold any of the class Luc sported, the choice brought an unexpected tightness to Curtis’s throat. That Anders’s arms were on display certainly didn’t hurt, either, nor the way the white shirt showed off his tan and the dark hair on his chest. He hadn’t shaved exactly, but the scruff on his chin was tidier than usual. If Luc was the cover of a romance novel, Anders was an action hero, and frankly, Curtis was willing to be saved multiple times.

  They were both waiting for him, he realized.

  “You guys look amazing,” Curtis said. “And I’m not complaining. At all. But Valentine’s Day was last week.”

  “It was ruined,” Luc said. “And we thought you deserved the real thing.”

  Curtis raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

  “Is it stupid?” Anders said. “Because I warned him maybe it was stupid.”

  Curtis shook his head. “No. No…It’s…” He swallowed. “It’s not stupid.”

  “Come join us, lapin.” Luc pulled out the seat at the head of the table.

  “I feel underdressed,” Curtis said. He’d chosen his university hoodie and jeans for warmth, not style.

  “Like we care,” Anders said. He glanced at Luc. “Well. I don’t care. He probably cares.”

  “It’s fine,” Luc said, tapping the back of the chair.

  Curtis sat, and they joined him. Luc poured a glass of wine for each of them. He took a grateful sip, then put the glass down. It was very sweet, which was what he liked. “This is really nice. Thank you.”

  “It’s a dessert wine,” Luc said. “Which is in keeping with the meal. We’re having desserts for dinner.”

  “Really?” Curtis said.

  “He picked out some weird fruity shit,” Anders said. “But don’t worry. There’s cheesecake, too.”

  Curtis grinned. “I love cheesecake.”

  “See?” Anders said to Luc, leaning forward. He pulled Curtis in for a kiss, and Curtis closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Anders’s stubble, and the possessiveness of the demon’s hand on the back of his neck.

  “I think you will also like the blackberry torte,” Luc said, when they broke apart.

  “I’m sure I will.” He leaned toward Luc, and the vampire’s lips met his. It was a different kind of kiss than the one he’d shared with Anders. Gentler, maybe, though as enjoyable in a different way.

  “For you,” Luc said.

  Curtis blinked and saw Luc was holding out a flat white box decorated with a red ribbon. He took it with shaking fingers and untied the bow. Inside was a book. It looked hand-made and very old. He opened the cover and marveled. It was a book of beautiful ink wash paintings.

  “This is gorgeous,” Curtis said.

  “Here,” Anders said, holding out an envelope.

  Curtis gently put the book down and then took the envelope. He opened it and pulled out what appeared to be three gift certificates. It took him a second to place the business name—Body Positive.

  “Zack’s tattoo place?” Curtis said.

  “I have it on good authority it’s time we all got some ink,” Anders said.

  Curtis looked down at the book and the gift certificates.

  These two, he thought. Curtis took another sip of his wine. Then he looked at them in turn. His throat felt tight again, and, to his utter humiliation, he felt his eyes filling up with tears. He blinked them away and cleared his throat. “Thank you for this.”

  “You deserve it, lapin.” Luc’s voice was gentle. Anders, looking a little spooked, reached over and squeezed Curtis’s should
er.

  He almost laughed. No doubt their bond was telling them both he was in danger of bawling like a child. He took a shaky breath.

  Do it.

  “What are we?” Curtis said. He forced the words past a hesitation he’d been carrying for…well, since he’d created this triad in the first place.

  Anders frowned. Luc’s lips tightened.

  “I think you both know how I feel,” Curtis said. “I’m sure you’ve felt it, though our connection or whatever you want to call it. And I know the triad makes things a bit complicated.”

  Anders snorted.

  “Anders,” Luc said.

  “Okay, a lot complicated,” Curtis said. To his surprise, he laughed. “Like, way, way complicated. The triad is the only reason we’re alive, pretty much. But you guys are the best thing to ever happen to me. Hands down.”

  “We’re all where we are because of each other,” Luc said.

  “That’s not what I mean,” Curtis said. He looked at Luc, and then at Anders. “And you both know it.”

  Both men looked uncomfortable.

  “So maybe this isn’t what you intended with this dinner, and I don’t want to ruin it, especially with blackberry torte and cheesecake on the line, but I don’t think you two will ever bring it up, so I’m going to. Before I do, I want you both to know I won’t risk what we’ve got. This triad? It’s important to me, and I’m not willing to lose it. Our freedom is way too important to me. So no matter what, the triad stays. Okay?”

  Both were looking at him now with outright alarm.

  Just say it.

  Curtis took a deep breath. “I’m in love with you guys. And yes, both of you. And yes, I know that’s going to raise some eyebrows, though why should I start giving a crap what other people think? So not my style. But honestly, I don’t really know how you guys feel about me, really, and…I’d like to. Soon.”

 

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