Night's Templar: A Vampire Queen Novel (Vampire Queen Series Book 13) (34 page)

"To not complete the task set before me." His gaze strayed over Keldwyn's mouth. "Everything that challenges that is something to be feared."

“Very well then.” Keldwyn touched his jaw. “Should you falter in this quest—and I have no reason to think you will—I will bring it to fruition for you, using whatever resources I can compel or command to serve it. You have my promise and my oath.”

Kel’s eyes were so dark against that moonlit luminescence. How could one trust a being of light and shadow, one so ethereal and beautiful he seemed a walking fantasy? But the Fae had just spoken an oath that grounded him in Uthe’s reality. It filled his heart with pain and need, and he wanted to reach out and touch. He didn’t, his fingers curling into a prohibitive fist.

“You trust my oath to you, do you not?” Keldwyn asked.

“I do.” Uthe said it without hesitation, which made the Fae’s eyes warm, though his lips remained set in a thin line.

“But you do not trust me in other ways. You are wary of me having the upper hand." Keldwyn chuckled, sat back. "Nothing so suspicious as two males who have spent decades mired in politics.

“Sometimes warfare seems preferable, doesn't it?” Uthe mused. “The other can be wearying."

"It does. Until you're in the midst of bloodshed."

Studying the Fae’s elegant profile, the resilient line of jaw and chiseled cheek bone, Uthe thought of what he’d learned about the Fae’s manner of communicating. He was fluent in almost every language of diplomacy Uthe knew, plus some he’d taught Uthe since they’d become acquainted. He suspected he’d done the same for Kel, since Uthe had seen him use a few deft twists from Uthe’s own arsenal. Lyssa had warned them the Fae were elusive in their motives, that they could turn a situation around and make you believe it was your idea. Or they could pull an unexpected outcome or direction from a carefully planned strategy. Probably because their strategy was more carefully planned, or had a wider view of the playing field and beyond.

Uthe remembered Kel’s quick, raw declaration in the sorceress’s cave, when he’d stated his reasons for accompanying Uthe were all his own. And now, he’d told him of his children. Uthe didn’t think Kel had revealed those things as part of ulterior motives. The Fae had given him truth, opening his soul as Uthe had.

“I’m surprised you’d entrust me with such a personal recollection as your children, my lord,” he said carefully, his mind spinning at the implications.

“You asked whether I had any.”

“But you gave me more than I asked. You rarely do that.”

“You told me yourself. You have Ennui. Rather than dealing with psychotic rages and impulse control crimes, it appears you have won the prize of rampant memory loss. Eventually you might forget all you are told.” Keldwyn tilted his head back, his dark eyes mere slits, but Uthe read the acid humor there. “A bottomless wishing well to whom I can tell my secrets.”

Uthe was amused. “Very insightful of you, my lord.”

Before the battle of Hattin, he remembered his comrades in arms exchanging quips about the heat and dust…
“In five minutes, we’ll be crossing Heaven’s Gates, mes frères. No more sand in our arse cracks…”

“Have you ever ridden a rollercoaster, Lord Keldwyn?”

“No.” The Fae’s brows arched. “Why would you ask?”

“I assume you have experienced a great many things. It intrigues me, what we have chosen
not
to experience.”

“Hmm. Roller coasters are metal and electronics, and separate me from the earth. They are not the same pleasurable experience as they might be for others.”

“There were wooden coasters before the metal ones.”

“True enough. Perhaps because I have ridden dragons, I didn’t see the appeal.” Keldwyn gave him a considering look. “Would you like to ride a dragon sometime, Lord Uthe?”

“If the dragon has no objection.”

Keldwyn smiled, but Uthe continued to study his profile when he went back to watching the girls. “You’ve been visiting the human world for some time. You can handle the energies that sap the younger Fae. You have served as regent for your queen when she was absent. King Tabor takes your advice. You are considerably powerful among your kind.”

“More so than some, less than others.”

“Modesty is not your natural state, my lord. Cunning, however, is more natural to you than breathing.”

Keldwyn dropped his head back, studying the interlacing of tree branches above them. “What is your point, Lord Uthe?”

“Lady Lyssa told us she first met you in the forests when she was fugitive. I don’t believe it was a chance meeting, and I suspect she no longer does either. When she was a child, Fae assassins were sent after her and her mother. She said that King Tabor brought that to a halt when he took the throne, but I suspect a different perspective influenced his thinking and that of those around him.”

“The timing was right. Everyone was weary of killing,” Keldwyn said. “I told them she would be more vampire than Fae, and likely have no power to wield.”

“You were wrong.” When Keldwyn offered him an enigmatic look, Uthe lifted a brow. “I stand corrected, my lord. You did say ‘likely’, did you not?”

“I knew her father. There was little chance she’d be born powerless. However, the political landscape in the Fae world changes quickly. By the time she embraced her power, if she had any, I knew she’d no longer be a target.”

Those four words, “I knew her father” were filled with things that would fill a thousand conversations…or were so precious they’d never be part of one. Uthe remembered the unexpected twist of jealousy he’d felt last time they spoke of Reghan. It was a pointless and unfounded emotion, yet the barb was still there when Keldwyn referred to him now.
You have rights to nothing but what he gives you now, and what little you can give to him, Varick.

It startled him to hear him refer to himself by his given name. Fortunately, Keldwyn distracted him.

“My children were old enough to make their own decisions,” the Fae Lord said. “I suffer painful regrets but not guilt. Aggression and conflict are innate to humanoid species. Just as there is no one way to most things worth embracing, there is no one way to maintain peace or restore it. One ruler requires a show of strength to respect borders, a threat of retaliation the only thing that will back him or her down. Another needs just the right amount of manipulation to feel it is his or her idea to not draw arms. And sometimes, regrettably, battle is the way to peace. Peace is never a permanent state. It requires constant vigilance for all involved.”

“Peace is not very peaceful for those in charge of keeping it.”

Keldwyn made a noise of agreement. “And the quality of peace itself must be considered. Things might be peaceful under a brutal dictator who will execute anyone who disagrees with him or her, but it is hardly conducive to happiness…or long term peace. Peace can be part of a benevolent tyranny, as it is under Lady Lyssa.”

It was one of their typical discussions, a casual meandering through philosophy, theory and personal experience. But Uthe knew he’d made an important connection between Keldwyn’s motives for being a liaison and the loss of his children. Maybe that was why his next question was one he had no right asking, unless he wanted to give the Fae Lord the right to dig just as deeply into his soul. Or maybe Kel was already so deep, Uthe was just trying to catch up.

“Was he the love of your life, then?”

He didn’t say Lord Reghan. He knew he didn’t need to do so. The mortal world might scoff at such a phrase, and the immortal world deem it endearingly childlike, but perhaps his heart had remained embedded in a time when such a declaration was a badge of honor, a favor to be worn in every endeavor.

If Keldwyn’s decision to serve as a liaison, mediator, diplomat, devil’s advocate or sacrificial lamb, depending on the situation, had been motivated by all those he’d loved and lost to war and conflict, especially Reghan, it would be the height of pettiness for Uthe to be jealous of that bond, seeing the good it had possibly done. It didn’t abate his tension as he waited for the response.

"I do not believe the love of your life can be someone who doesn't love you the same way. No god is so cruel.” Keldwyn pursed his lips. “Unless it’s a form of atonement, for crimes from this or a previous life."

“I think I have been a good influence on you, my lord. You’re pondering the wisdom of God’s decisions and accepting His Judgment.”

Keldwyn snorted and lay back fully on the grass, dropping a forearm over his eyes. “I am in no mood for debates today. I’m napping. Let me know if those silly children have need of us.”

Uthe made an accepting grunt. He watched the slight rise and fall of Keldwyn’s chest under the jerkin, the chest hair revealed at the vee neckline. The sunlight made the light mat of curling hair gleam. Uthe imagined unlacing the jerkin to trace all the layers of muscle with fingers or tongue. Yet as he thought about Kel and his children, he saw past the strength and thought of thick glass. Resilient, but not shatter proof.

“It does not matter how powerful a being thinks he is, Lord Uthe,” Keldwyn said abruptly. “There is always someone else more powerful, who can take away what you value most. I learned that with Reghan. I thought I could save him with strength. I could not. I protected his daughter with cunning, which I learned was a far more powerful weapon, though it takes its cost, which at times is dearer than what the sword can take from you.”

“What is that?”

Keldwyn didn’t remove his arm, so his eyes remained hidden. “Trust. The freedom to love without cynicism, without calculation to maneuver things into the best position for yourself. Which is not love, of course. Cunning can become a permanent and irreversible state.”

“I disagree. It is a language. Once understood, the true soul of the individual using it is revealed. And maybe once he knows that, he can stop using cunning all the time and trust someone with his true feelings.”

“Your use of third person is clunky and transparent, Lord Uthe.”

Uthe didn’t disagree. Catriona was standing on the unicorn’s back. She did a backward somersault, helped by her wings, and dove into the deeper end of the pond, to Della’s delight.

“How are you doing on deciphering my language, Lord Uthe?” Keldwyn said after that pause.

“It’s by turns a fascinating and puzzling endeavor, my lord. It tends to change quite rapidly, like an encrypted code. But it holds my attention sufficiently. It hasn’t become tedious.”

Keldwyn’s lips curved, their appeal even more noticeable with his arm in place over the upper part of his face. “I am glad of it. Tell me what you have deciphered, that is uppermost in your mind right now.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because I might share the same, to balance the scales. I suspect our thoughts intersect and complement one another, my lord.”

“Perhaps you should go first, then, since you brought up the subject.”

The lips curved even more. Uthe suppressed a desire to lean forward, touch the Fae’s mouth. He settled for plucking a piece of meadow grass and rolling it in his palms, inhaling the sweet scent of its core.

“Fine. But you have been reluctant to go down this path before. I will not stop this time, Varick. Should I proceed, or do you lack courage?”

Uthe chewed on the grass, found it as flavorful as its scent. “Do as you will, my lord.” He was risking himself, he knew, but they were in more vulnerable territory right now, the both of them. The energy charging the air between them—despite the sunny day, their casual poses and the young ones playing nearby—told him so.

“You have been the right hand to two Council leaders and, while capable of leading, you have displayed no obvious desire to take over that leadership role,” Keldwyn said. “That could be explained easily enough by your commitment to this quest. Yet during those social occasions where vampires orchestrate sexual play between their servants and often participate themselves in certain ways, you do not. You set the stage, you watch, you provide aftercare to your servant to tell her she has pleased you, but you do not actively participate in front of others. I suspect that has less to do with your celibacy vow and more to do with yourself. You are far more conservative than other vampires.”

These were things a careful observer could deduce, though Uthe was impressed that Keldwyn had figured out he was genuinely conservative about open sexual displays. He made a quiet sound of acceptance and Keldwyn continued.

“You chose to take the Templar oath and serve them, not only for the duration of their recorded existence, but to the present day.” Keldwyn shifted the arm enough that Uthe could see the fathomless pools of his eyes hidden in the shadows beneath it. “The most meaningful relationships in your life have been based in service. You are divided between nature and need, Lord Uthe. You cannot deny your Dominant vampire nature, and it shows itself in your leadership capabilities, your savage fighting skills. But you need service and—dare I say, in some very important, key way—the opportunity to submit to a lover. You need to let go of things so deeply buried inside you, it will take a very particular type of Dominant male lover to give you that opportunity.”

Uthe wanted to shift his gaze, but he resisted the urge. He was remembering what Mariela had said.
Someone who is as much your Master as you are mine.
“An impressive sales pitch. Very compelling.”

“You have perfected that poker face. But just as you are learning to read mine, I am learning to read yours.” The arm shifted, Keldwyn’s eyes disappearing again. “Your turn. Would you like to balance the scales?”

No, he wouldn’t. Kel’s words had sunk into him, holding him in place, weighing him down in a way that made his body heavy with anticipation, fueled by that very need he’d just mentioned. Offered. Uthe stared off into the forest, and felt rather than saw Keldwyn shift his arm again to stare at him. His skin felt hot, and there was an odd quiver in his chest, like a butterfly had been let loose there.

“I have a request, my lord,” he said.

“If it is my inclination or in my power to give, it is yours.”