Smoke Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  “He could be following Dracul’s orders,” Harry interjected. “This may be proof that the devil still lives.”

  Good old Harry, casting their enemy in allegorical terms. Personally, Will had always thought of Dracul as a traitorous fucker—or asshole, depending on his mood. Either way, it was the betrayal of Alex in particular and the hive in general that Will couldn’t forgive. His family had been in the Queen’s hive, closely related to her and her predecessors. He felt the pull of her orbit perhaps more strongly than any of them. Maybe that’s why he’d produced Annika. In hindsight, he should have expected that eventuality.

  “He does live!” Petru exclaimed, real emotion showing in him for the first time. “And, no,” he added more calmly, “I doubt very much that he’s following Dracul’s orders. They fled early when you raided the castle. Of that, I’m sure. There is only one of their number who would have stuck with Dracul once you’d left him for dead.”

  The guy’s voice and expression changed in some nameless way. In any other person, it would have read as sadness or longing. Will found it hard to believe that Petru was capable of that type of feeling, except that he knew what it was about. Petru had been clear that he was trustworthy in joining their cause because the nameless someone was a human boy, someone Petru wanted to get back very badly. Someone he loves? It was impossible to accept that Petru could achieve that kind of devotion to a species he’d always decried as inferior and good for—What had he said? Oh, yeah, fucking and killing. Charming. So no… Will figured it was more about having his toy stolen from him than anything else.

  “It may be as he says,” Alex opined. “Bran might simply be parroting his father’s previous schemes to get close to power.”

  “Risky, though, don’t you think?” Emil asked. “It gets our attention and yet it’s a long shot that this… What did you call him, Val?”

  “Asshat.”

  “Yeah, that makes it all the way to the White House. There’s like a million candidates already. I mean, the asshat has pretty hair and straight white teeth and all, but does he really have a shot at holding the most powerful position in the human world? If and when he fails, what has Bran accomplished, except issue us an engraved invitation to turn him into dust?”

  Will had no opinion about any of this, either. He hadn’t seen said asshat making his announcement, nor had he bothered following US politics more than was necessary to stay a well-informed inhabitant of Earth. He’d settled in the Netherlands deliberately. It was a small, mostly quiet country. He liked the slow pace of his life and how no one around him tried to make a big splash in the world. Of course, trouble had come to the country more than once, including in recent years. Nowhere on this miserable planet was safe and harmonious.

  But America was a big, noisy country with battling factions, even without Dracul’s son stirring the pot. He would have preferred to stay away from it for the rest of his life, except he went where Alex needed him. And Annika couldn’t remain outside the fray. It wasn’t in her nature. She had the duty to lead and manage, even if meant doing so with another species. To do otherwise would destroy her, eventually. As her father, his destiny was to follow her and serve in whatever way she needed.

  “It brings us back to Bran being not as bright as he should be,” Alex said. “Either that or he has an agenda that is so clever we can’t see it yet.”

  Val made his thoughts clear on that possibility. “Like hell! With Bran, I’m going with what you see is even less than what you get. What’s our next move, boss?” he added, looking at Alex.

  “Research the asshat and see if there’s anything useful in plain sight. Other than that, we need to figure out a way to get close to him and Bran.”

  Val grimaced. “It won’t be easy. On a quick search, I’ve already learned that the guy is getting around-the-clock protection because of death threats. Although little names him in particular, my bet is that Bran is head of the security team.”

  “That’s a start. See what more you can dig out. We’ll meet again tonight in my office after dinner.”

  “What do we tell our boys?” Emil asked.

  “The truth. They need to be on alert as much as possible. Keeping them in the dark has never worked for us before anyway,” Alex added with a flash of rueful grin. He grew somber again. “And Dafydd has to be warned that his other son is here. We can’t blindside him if this ends in a predictable fashion.”

  Alex turned his attention back to Petru. “You think long and hard, too. You lived with the man since his birth. You must know something about him that’s useful.”

  “Of course, I’ll put my thinking cap on. I can tell you one thing, although what use it would be, I couldn’t say.” When they remained there staring at him, he continued. “He, ah, likes girls.”

  They all stood mute at that pronouncement.

  Once again, Petru didn’t need any kind of response. “He used the slaves in the castle, of course, but sparingly. Once a year or so, he’d drag in some female he’d find God knows where, shower her with his unwanted attention, which of course, eventually killed her. Dracul wasn’t much pleased with the whole thing. It was messy and required the disposal of a body from his very home. Still, he could be an indulgent father when the mood struck him.” Petru shrugged. “Again, not sure what use that information is.”

  “I’m not sure, either,” Alex bit out. “Except I didn’t think I could possibly hate him more. Live and learn.” He signaled Val to come out of the cell.

  “Wait,” Petru said before the door shut in his face. “When can I see Her again?”

  Will knew—they all did—whom he meant. Rage rose within him at the very mention, however obliquely, of his daughter. Queen she may be, but she was also his little girl, and he wouldn’t let anyone harm her. The idea of her breathing the same air as this fucker was intolerable to Will. A growl pushed past his lips, earning him a glance from everyone.

  Alex spoke before Will could. “Is there a reason in particular why you want to see the Queen?”

  “You need to ask?” Petru scoffed. “It’s been so long.” He licked his lips in an unexpected tell of his nervousness. “I’d almost forgotten what it was like to be in Her orbit. So…soothing.”

  Will did understand. They all did. It had been a slow realization for him, but in recent months, he’d detected a change in his own mood when he was with Annika. She was coming into her maturity and there was a sense of relief that their lives weren’t going to be an endless survival on this miserable planet. There was real hope of a new life.

  Alex made no promises. “We’ll see. Do some serious thinking. We can’t go after Dracul while this new threat grows right under our noses.”

  With that, Val shut the cell door and locked it. They filed out of the room.

  Harry spoke before they reached the stairs. “I wonder if Petru hasn’t already handed us the key to solving our new problem. The Queen,” he added when they stopped and looked at him. “Maybe it’s as simple as having Annika speak with Bran. She could possibly bring him to heel with just an order. She has a very positive effect on Merlin. I can tell how hard he tries to stay mad and rebellious, but when she’s in the room, he becomes almost docile, certainly more obedient. It’s quite a relief, I must say, as someone who is trying to civilize him.”

  “No!” The word was out of Will’s mouth before he could stop it, not that he would have. He spoke to Alex. “With respect, Captain, she is too young. Her power is at its infancy and she is a child, regardless. Although technically Merlin and Bran are biologically and socially similar, Merlin is a mere child, while Bran is fully grown. We can’t assume he will be as malleable as that boy. We can’t risk her life like that.”

  As far as he was concerned, there was no question about what to do. Obeying the Queen was embedded in every nucleus of every cell in their bodies. It was in their very nature, with no choice about it. And sure, that was why Petru had been completely coopted to their side, his hatred for Dracul being beside the p
oint. His conversion could be trusted because it was genetic, not deliberate. There was a very real hope that Dracul could be defeated in the same way. In theory, it should work, although his mind had become so twisted with his power that it might be enough to override even the most basic drive of their species.

  Time would tell, and the thought of his precious daughter getting anywhere near that monster kept Will up at night. He was going to have to trust Alex to broach the plan carefully. Protecting the Queen was another part of their makeup, so that helped ease his terror. But Bran was different. He was a hybrid. There could be no expectation that a Queen would mean anything to him. He hadn’t been raised in a hive, after all, and his watered-down DNA could just as easily dismiss Annika as the ordinary little human girl that she appeared to be. Demi and Merlin were too small a pool of subjects to be a predictable outcome for another of their kind.

  Will swallowed hard when Alex didn’t respond right away. “I’m sorry, sir. She’s my daughter. Nothing matters more to me than keeping her safe.”

  Alex reached out and, for an instant, Will braced himself for a blow. Instead, his captain put his hand on Will’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  “I promise you, Willem, that nothing will be done to risk her life. I know it’s a lovely thought that our Queen could control Bran, but he is a hybrid, as you say, and unpredictable. We won’t risk it unless he’s contained, as Petru is. We take no chances,” he emphasized before letting go. We’ve taken down better adversaries than this. We’re not going to start running scared now and hiding behind the Queen’s skirts.”

  He glanced at Harry. “Someone still needs to tell Dafydd what’s happening. We mustn’t lose sight of the fact that Bran is his son. His death, however necessary it may be, will still cut deeply, I’m sure. Besides, Dafydd might know something about his son that will help us.”

  Harry nodded. “I’ve already called Ric so he can be here when I break the news to Dafydd. He’s had an amazingly good effect on the boy.”

  “And I’ll bring Trey up to speed,” Emil said, then snapped his fingers. “I better get back to the kitchen. I left poor Damien in charge of the brunch crowd. The new staff need constant supervision.”

  The mention of the human took Will’s thoughts in another direction, a welcome distraction from what they’d been discussing. Not that his longing for the human was any better than the worry about dealing with Bran. It was merely different. And picturing taking hold of Damien was far more satisfying that doing the same with Bran. They would both end with a fucking, except one was euphemistic and the other far more pleasurable. Too bad the figurative one was the only thing Will could count on. The very real fucking he wanted to give Damien would have to remain an untouchable fantasy.

  They were all safer that way.

  * * * *

  Mackie flopped back onto his pillow and breathed noisily through his mouth. “Thanks, Lucien. I’m sorry it’s so disgusting.” He hadn’t managed to digest much of Emil’s delicious chicken noodle soup, apparently.

  On his way to empty the barf bucket into the toilet, Lucien tsked loudly. “Nonsense. It doesn’t bother me. I’m married to a doctor, remember?” he added on his return to Mackie’s bedside. “I’ve seen and smelled far worse, in particular from my time carrying Demi. I was much the same as you are now.”

  “How come no one mentioned this part when I got the whole ‘drink my blood and live forever’ talk?”

  Lucien bent over him and placed a cool cloth on his forehead. “Well, for one thing, the information came from a man who has never been in this condition. Our husbands are unreliable sources about what it’s really like. Seeing it and experiencing it are two entirely different things.”

  Mackie closed his eyes and focused on the comfort of the wet cloth. “I’ve talked to you about it, and somehow vomiting your guts inside out never came up, either.”

  “I believe I mentioned morning sickness was the toughest part of pregnancy,” he replied with a hint of defensiveness.

  “Yeah, I focused on the morning part and figured it wouldn’t be this bad.”

  “I believe it’s variable by person, much as it is with women. I’m sorry if I misled you about the enormity of what you were agreeing to.”

  Mackie rolled to his side and opened his eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I’m being a brat. I made the decision to continue to take Val’s blood and to fuck without protection. It’s a commitment to my husband and I don’t regret it. I’m scared though,” he admitted. “It feels as if I’m going to puke the kid right out.”

  Lucien smiled. “That’s not going to happen. I promise you that the only risk is getting dehydrated. That’s where regular feedings will help. In fact, I’ve texted Val to come see you.”

  “Oh no, Lucien! Val’s busy with this whole Bran thing. I can wait.”

  “Bullshit.” The firm rebuke was uttered by Val as he strode into their bedroom. “Nothing matters more than you.”

  His husband didn’t hesitate to come right to the bed, scoring his wrist with his fangs at the same time. He shoved it against Mackie’s lips as he sat down beside him. Regardless of how guilty Mackie might have felt at taking the man away from important stuff, he latched on to Val like a striking viper. The warm blood sliding down his throat soothed his stomach within seconds. The experience in the bathroom that morning hadn’t been a fluke. Chicken soup had nothing on Val’s blood when it came to healing powers. He moaned like a greedy pig.

  Val landed his free hand on Mackie’s head. “Good boy, that’s it. Take what you need.” He turned to Lucien. “Thanks for watching him.”

  Lucien moved away. “You’re quite welcome. With Dafydd more than capable of looking after Idris these days, I have a lot of free time. I’m happy to help Mackie through this difficult point in his pregnancy. It’s certainly more appealing than babysitting Merlin.” He pulled a face. “If you’d like, I can get a blood bag from storage and—”

  “No,” Val cut him off firmly. “My blood is best. Harry says so. I won’t allow Mackie to have less than everything he needs unless absolutely necessary. Thank you,” he added.

  “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

  Mackie closed his eyes before Lucien had fully left the room. His lids were heavy, as was typical with feedings. And it was such a relief for his stomach to be settled that he relaxed completely. The next thing he knew, he was blinking his eyes open again, his mouth no longer latched onto Val’s wrist. Even though the lighting in the room was the same, he felt as if he’d slept for a while. Val hadn’t moved from his side, though. He sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on the floor.

  Mackie stretched and rolled onto his back. “How long have I been out?”

  Val turned his head to scrutinize him. “About an hour. How do you feel?”

  Mackie took stock of himself. “Lethargic but not nauseated. Not yet anyway.”

  “I’m here for you if need another feeding.”

  “What about this problem of Bran popping up all of a sudden?”

  “There’s nothing to be done about it yet. He’s out in the open, which is alarming in its novelty, but at least we can see what he’s doing, in some sense.” He shrugged. “I did a bunch of research on the politician he’s working for and gave it to Alex, for all the good it is. Bran has laid down a pretty decent paper trail with his new persona. Good enough for a government security clearance, at any rate.

  “He’s calling himself Bran Nyx, which makes sense, because Dracul always used the surname Stelanyx when there was a need.” He grunted out what could possibly be mistaken for a laugh. “You know it’s the opposite of the name Alex chose for us, Stelalux—‘star night’ versus ‘star light’?”

  “Oh, I hadn’t really considered where my new last name came from.”

  “It’s kind of cheesy, I know, and a bit of a mouthful. We should have chosen Smith when we emigrated here.”

  Mackie scoffed. “That would be boring.”
>
  “We’d blend in better.”

  Now Mackie snorted. “You guys couldn’t possibly blend in anywhere, regardless of the name you use.”

  Val smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You might have a point there.” His expression turned grim. “Anyway, I’ve done what research I can. It’s up to Alex to decide what our next move is going to be. Unless and until he needs me, I’m sticking to your side.”

  Mackie suppressed a sigh. He loved his man to pieces but months of being tied to his hip was going to drive them both mad. Plus, they had jobs to do. Even if Mackie couldn’t work, it didn’t mean Val should be kept from his duties.

  “Don’t they need you in the club?”

  Val shook his head. “MacLerie’s got it covered. He’s more than effective at keeping the members in check. And Will’s been hanging out there when Annika doesn’t need him. We have three more shipmates coming in the next couple of weeks, as well. They’ll help out wherever needed. That’s what drones do.”

  “I thought their one and only job was to inseminate the queen?”

  Val gave him the side-eye. “That’s true for bees. We’re not that. Our social structures are similar, but hardly exactly analogous. For one thing, all of our females are fertile, not just the queens. For another, we have more males than females, so all of us are productive members of the hive. We don’t merely contribute sperm to future generations.”

  Mackie wrinkled his nose. “I have had a hard time picturing all of you lined up waiting for your turn to, um, service someone like Annika,” he confessed. He was endlessly fascinated by his husband’s species yet always sensed that Val didn’t like discussing it. It was too painful, Mackie imagined, given that they could never go back to their home planet. Still, he didn’t want to lose an opportunity to learn more when Val was in a talkative mood. And given that Mackie would be bringing a half-alien child into the world, ancestry and customs would be important to pass along.