Starlight(Pact Arcanum 4)

by Arshad Ahsanuddin

  “I’m not a part of it!” shouted Nick, getting to his feet. “I think it’s the worst idea in the world.”

  Lorcan scowled at Nick, his eyes red. “Did I object when you married Jeremy?”

  Nick recoiled as if Lorcan had slapped him. “No.”

  “Then why are you so angry?”

  Nick opened his mouth to answer, then thought better of it and stalked out of the room.

  Rory squeezed Lorcan’s shoulder. “He’ll come around.”

  “He probably thought you would wait for him,” said Layla, taking a sip of her tea. She smiled at Rory’s and Lorcan’s identical expressions of guilt. “I thought so.”

  Rory didn’t meet her gaze. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “In fact, it does,” said Layla. She placed the teacup back on the delicate saucer in front of her. “If you do this, your relationship with Nicholas will change. You won’t be able to go back to what you were. Your mating will put constraints on any possible romance you might share with him in the future.”

  Lorcan slumped in his seat. “The future will take care of itself. We have to worry about the present.”

  Layla stood. “If you are committed to this, then Nick will accede to your wishes. He loves you both too much to do otherwise.” She gave them both a sad smile. “If you’re wise, though, you should give him some time before you ask him for another favor. A decade or two should suffice.”

  Rory winced. “You think it will be that bad?”

  “I think that however much you think you hurt him today, you are probably being conservative. It may be irrational, given the fact that he’s happily married himself, but he’ll probably be nursing his resentment toward you for quite some time.”

  CHAPTER 7

  April 2083; Cathedral of the Sky, Anchorpoint City, Colorado

  Rory walked down the familiar corridor of the crypt until he came to the final alcove. He hesitated at the doorway. Hard to believe it’s been six months.

  He stepped inside the small room and set his bundle down on the shelf to the left of the door. He picked up the broom that had been left for him, and began to sweep away the dust that had collected since he had last been there. When the room had been cleaned and the altar was polished, he replaced the white rose that Lorcan had left back on the altar. The lacquered flower had been spelled to repel dust, so it remained as vibrant as ever. Rory knelt on the floor and reached into his jacket to withdraw a nearly identical lacquered red rose. He put it on the altar next to Lorcan’s.

  Hello, Love,he thought. It’s been almost six months since I came here to talk to you, and a year since you died. A lot has happened since then. I’ve been more active in the Court, promoting the Great Work, and I think we’ve been making progress. All our friends are doing well. I actually started going to mass again. Ruarc convinced me that it might be comforting. So far, I can’t say that he’s been wrong.

  Rory realized he was fidgeting, and stilled his hands. Sorry, I guess I’m stalling. You never let me get away with that when you were alive.

  Take, I’m engaged to Ruarc. I know it was too soon, but there were reasons why I couldn’t wait. It’s a marriage of convenience, for political reasons, and our relationship isn’t physical, but honestly? He’s a good man, and I could see myself falling for him eventually. I always knew there would be someone in my heart after you, but I always thought it would be Nick, not him. Anyway, he agreed to my request to wait until I was ready, and the others accepted that so long as we declared our intentions publicly before the Court. He’s committed to seeing it through, for my sake. I wanted to make the same commitment to him, but he won’t let me. I think Ruarc wants me to hold out for Nick, as long as he can’t, but we’ve agreed not to talk about Nick as long as Jeremy is alive. He’s going to need us after that, if my reaction to losing you is any guide.

  Rory meditated for another hour, then got to his feet. He looked at the dragon crest on its wooden stand and took a deep breath.

  “Take, I love you. I will always love you. But you’d like Ruarc. He’s been good to me. So, we’re going to formalize our mating tomorrow, and I’ll see where it leads. I hope you understand, and that you forgive me. You’ll never be far from my thoughts. I’ll be back when I can get away. ”

  Rory glanced one more time at the crossed roses on the altar, one white, one red, then turned his back and walked away.

  RED AND WHITE

  CHAPTER 8

  April 2091; House Jiao-long Stronghold, San Francisco, California; Eight years later

  “Are you listening to me?” asked Marcus.

  Rory snapped out of his daydream. “Sorry, I was a million miles away.”

  His Primogenitor smirked. “Somehow, I don’t think your thoughts went any farther than Ireland.”

  Rory’s face heated. “Maybe.”

  Marcus sighed. “You’re useless on your anniversary. You’d think that eight years in a marriage of convenience would pall after a while, but you actually seemed to have grown more attached to him over the years. One might think you were actually lovers.”

  Rory said nothing. Marcus had been a trusted ally even before Rory had recruited him to House Jiao-long, so he was one of the few who knew the true nature of his relationship with Lorcan. “It’s been a long time, and he’s a good friend. Of course I’m fond of him.”

  Marcus waved him away. “Go on, get out of here. I’ve been running your business interests well enough over the years that I can probably manage for one more month without your direct input.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Marcus made a dismissive motion with his left hand and swept the papers on the table into a neat pile with his right. “Shoo.”

  Rory didn’t hesitate any longer and left the room toward the teleport gateway. He jumped directly to the House Diluthical stronghold in Belfast. Leaving the fortress behind, he jumped into the city proper and walked down the darkened street to the semi-deconsecrated church that ministered to the local vampire population, Nightwalker and Daywalker alike. Rory knocked on the door of the rectory, and one of the younger priests answered. “Is the Archbishop in? He’s expecting me.”

  The priest let him inside and led him to a waiting room. After a few minutes bouncing off the walls, Rory was relieved when the door opened again and Padraic entered, carrying a rectangular wooden box. “Is it ready?”

  The priest laughed. “Well, hello to you, too, Sean.”

  Rory reddened. “I’m sorry, I was just excited. How are you?”

  “I am well. The ministry has been renewed for another five years. The fact that I have the Redeemer and the Imperator as parishioners kind of tipped the balance against my opponents in the diocese.”

  Rory cracked a wide grin. “That’s wonderful. Thank you for making us welcome.”

  “Could I have done otherwise, my son?” He smiled and handed over the box. “And I can tell you’re just trying to be polite, so here is your item. I hope it brings you some joy.”

  Rory opened the box and gasped at the nineteenth century bronze bookmark within. Rory had discovered it while browsing the shops in the city, and Padraic had arranged for it to be restored and illuminated, with a miniature painting of the dragon from the House Jiao-long seal entwined with the Arcolin rune for “eternity” that formed the centerpoint of the crest of House Diluthical. At the top and bottom were Rory’s and Lorcan’s names, painted in precise Arcolin pictograms. He looked back at Padraic, his eyes bright. “Thank you. He’s going to love it.”

  Padraic nodded, watching Rory intently. “Yes, I know how much store Ruarc sets by his books.” Then, seeming to come to some kind of internal resolution, he indicated a couple of chairs. “Do you have time to sit and chat for a while?”

  Rory pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. “Sure. Ruarc won’t be done with today’s assembly for at least another three or four hours.” He took a seat and slipped the bookmark case into his jacket pocket. “What’s up?”

  Padraic settled i
nto another chair. “We have been friends for quite some time, almost since your relationship with Ruarc began.”

  “That’s true.”

  “While I disapprove of political marriages on principle, I must admit that you seem pleased with your arrangement.”

  Rory frowned slightly. “I am. Where is this going?”

  “Do you regret your decision to enter into a formal mating?”

  Rory’s frown deepened. “No, not at all. Why?”

  “You were troubled when we first met, but since then you have been happy and at peace, more so every year that I have known you.”

  “Is there a question in that, somewhere?”

  “Is your relationship with Ruarc still based on friendship, or has it become something more?”

  Rory froze where he sat, going inhumanly still. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Ruarc is your partner, your friend, and your mate. Is he your lover?”

  Rory snarled and his eyes went red. “That’s none of your business, Padraic!”

  Padraic raised his hands placatingly. “I don’t mean physically. I want to know if you love him, in a romantic sense.”

  Rory’s eyes faded back to green, and he stared at the priest for a long moment. “I … I haven’t thought about it.”

  “I know you haven’t, which is why I asked. Perhaps you should think about it. Your answer may surprise you.”

  April 2091; Court of Shadows Council Chamber Complex, Alexandria, Egypt

  Lorcan dismissed the Assembly and made his way impatiently through the maze of corridors back to the House Diluthical Embassy. Inside, he walked to his office, and checked the large box on his desk. He smiled when the saw the intricate porcelain chess pieces. Unpainted, of course. Rory loved to paint, and he was developing a talent for the fine detail work required for miniatures.

  One of his Praetors knocked on the doorframe. “My lord, the Magister Daviroquir is here and wishes to speak to you.”

  Lorcan began closing up the box. “Send him in.”

  The Praetor left, and a few moments later William walked through the door. He knelt. “Master, my life is yours, I am your blade to wield.”

  Lorcan continued to pack the last of the porcelain pieces away. “I accept your honor, to defend as if it were my own. What can I do for you, William?”

  William stood. “My lord, I won’t keep you long. I know you’re eager to celebrate your anniversary. I merely wish to apologize.”

  Lorcan stiffened, then closed the lid of the box and latched it before turning around. “I don’t recall anything recently that you need to apologize for.”

  “It was not recent.” William straightened to his full height. “You told me once that you and the Redeemer were not lovers, and I refused to believe you. When you announced your mating, it merely reaffirmed my belief that you lied.”

  “And now?” asked Lorcan in a soft voice.

  “I have observed the two of you at length over the years. You were affectionate at times in the beginning, but there was never passion between you. Since then, I have noticed a rising tension when I have seen you together, a deepening of your relationship, like you were exploring those feelings for the first time. I think you were. I think my intransigence was typical of the reaction of the Daywalker community to the scandal, and you manufactured a relationship to appease us. Only now have I seen the love between you that should have been there in the beginning, and I apologize that I may have pressured you into a commitment too early.”

  Lorcan turned away and ran his fingers over the darkly stained mahogany of the gift box. “William, you are never to speak of this again.”

  William bowed. “As you wish, my lord.” He walked to the door.

  “William.”

  William paused in the process of turning the doorknob. “My lord?”

  “Apology accepted.”

  William froze for a moment, then gathered his thoughts. “Thank you, my lord.” He pulled the door open and walked out.

  Lorcan braced his arms against the desk and breathed deeply to calm himself. William’s words thundered in his mind. “Only now have I seen the love between you…” He exhaled forcefully, and shook himself. Then he picked up the wooden box and walked to the teleport gateway in the next room.

  He jumped back to the House Diluthical stronghold in Belfast and made a short secondary jump to their quarters. Letting himself into the suite, he noticed there was no one else there. He set the box down on the dining table and checked the other rooms. “Sean?” Then he noticed the note on the back of the door.

  Ruarc,

  Change of plans. Meet me at my house in San Francisco.

  Love,

  Sean.

  Lorcan was a little unsettled at the word “love,” so soon after William’s earlier pronouncement. But it was Rory’s turn this year to plan their anniversary celebration, so it was his privilege to be cryptic. He lifted the box again and walked back to the teleport gateway and interfaced with the Armistice teleport relay system, then jumped to the gateway in the house that had belonged to Rory and Takeshi, which Rory couldn’t bear to part with.

  He arrived in the semi-darkened living room. Sean was here. His scent was fresh, and Lorcan could hear the single heartbeat in the house. He set the gift box on the coffee table, and caught another scent. Roses. His vision sharpened as he drew more heavily on his vampire senses. A sprinkling of rose petals led from the teleport gateway into the front hallway, then up the central staircase. He followed the trail to the master bedroom, inhaling the heavy aroma as the flowers were crushed under his feet.

  He pushed open the door and stared at the king-sized bed, the covers turned down, lit by fairy lights of pure magic that flitted about the room along currents of air.

  “I thought maybe we’d stay in this year.”

  Lorcan snapped his head to face Rory, eyes wide, questions about to explode from his lips, then he swallowed hard as they were all forgotten.

  Rory smiled at him, his long red hair hanging loose over his shoulders, wearing a white silk gown, loosely belted in front.

  Beautiful.

  Lorcan found his voice. “Sean, what—”

  “I love you.”

  Lorcan was speechless again.

  “It’s strange. I felt the substance of the words so many times, expressed them in so many ways, that it never occurred to me to say them out loud.” Rory stepped closer and ran his fingertips over Lorcan’s right eyebrow, and down the side of his face, following the line of his cheekbones. “Do you love me, Ruarc?”

  A single word came to his lips instantly, the only one he could have made himself speak out loud. “Yes.”

  Rory’s smile was blinding in the shifting light. He leaned forward and kissed Lorcan hungrily. Lorcan responded immediately, reaching up to wrap his hand around the back of Rory’s head and pull him closer. Rory did the same, and in the back of his mind, Lorcan felt the smoothness of the Nightwalker’s soft leather half-gloves against his neck. Lorcan broke the kiss and took one step backward. “Wait.”

  Rory stepped backward as well, his face showing his hurt and confusion. “What is it?”

  Lorcan pointed at the black gloves. “Take those off.”

  Rory blinked and stared at his hands in surprise. “Why?”

  You don’t need to hide what you are from me,” whispered Lorcan, leaning in for another kiss. He closed his eyes as he felt the movement of Rory stripping the gloves off, then opened his eyes and stepped back.

  The room was starkly lit by the painful brightness of the Grace, casting every surface into sharp relief.

  Rory met his gaze with uncertainty. “And what am I?”

  Lorcan reached out and untied the belt of Rory’s robe, and slipped it off Rory’s shoulders, so that it fell to the floor in a soft rustle. Lorcan ran his eyes over every inch of Rory’s naked body before raising his gaze back to the Nightwalker’s face. He smiled, his fangs showing, and let his eyes shift. “You’re mine.”
r />   After that, there were no more words.

  CHAPTER 9

  July 2094; San Francisco, California; Three years later

  Lorcan was reading a book bound in blue leather, held in his right hand, while he absently stroked Rory’s hair with his left. Rory dozed under his touch, his head in Lorcan’s lap.

  Then a familiar voice spoke in their minds. “Rory. Ruarc. I need you to come to the main hospital at Anchorpoint, right now.”

  Rory sat upright on the couch. “Jeremy? What’s wrong?”

  “You have to take care of Nick. You’ll find him in the medical intensive care unit.”

  Lorcan dropped his book on the coffee table as he climbed to his feet. “What happened to him?”

  “To him?”The voice sounded amused. “Nothing.”

  Rory frowned. “Then what … Did something happen to you?”

  “I’m dying.”

  July 2094; Anchorpoint City, Colorado

  Rory gently shook Nick’s shoulder. The Daywalker shuddered back to wakefulness, and his head snapped up to stare at Rory blearily. “Rory?” He caught the movement as Lorcan flipped a page in the virtual chart that hovered at the foot of the bed. Nick got unsteadily to his feet from the hard plastic chair where he’d fallen asleep. “What are you doing here?”

  “Jeremy called us,” said Rory. He glanced at the still form on the bed, wired up to various machines, breathing through a ventilator. “What happened?”

  “Pandemic influenza,” said Lorcan, closing the pages of physician notes. “I didn’t realize it had spread this far west.”

  Jeremy’s voice answered in their minds. “A group of Sentinel refugees from India brought it into Sanctuary. We’re still in the process of setting up proper quarantine, so the disease spread throughout the city before we knew what was happening. I must have been exposed then, but it didn’t hit me until I came back here. It’s already too far advanced to do more than make me comfortable, but Nick insisted they do everything.”