Night's Templar: A Vampire Queen Novel (Vampire Queen Series Book 13) (39 page)

“My lord Uthe.”

Uthe hid a tight smile. He’d expected Niall to arrive next. First, because it was difficult for Evan to pull out of the fog of inspiration, even for the demands of vampire etiquette. Second, Evan knew and trusted Uthe far more than Niall did. The big Scot hadn’t wasted any time getting back down the mountain, and Uthe knew it had little to do with deference to Uthe’s elevated status. His dark eyes flickered toward the house as Alanna emerged, confirming visually what he could verify in his mind—her wellbeing.

“We decided to wait and filet her when you arrived,” Uthe said mildly.

Niall had the grace to flush. He gave Keldwyn a nod, though it was far less friendly, just within the boundaries of courtesy without extending clear welcome. He’d never been comfortable around the Fae male. Since Niall had been born in eighteenth century Scotland, where stories of the trickery of the Fae were rampant, his wariness was understandable.

Uthe had no objection to Niall’s protectiveness, because it extended to both Evan and Alanna. A warrior by nature, he was far more likely to assess the potential threats of their surroundings than Evan. He’d had three hundred years as Evan’s human servant to hone those skills, only recently having had his vampire transformation approved by Council. His Scottish practicality was a good balance for Evan’s artistic nature, one of the main reasons his turning had been approved unanimously by the Council. Evan’s art brought in considerable revenue to the Council. Beyond that, he represented a different path for vampires. Lord Brian, with his focus on science, was the closest thing to that course, both of them proving that vampires could pursue vocations that benefitted the vampire world without being mired in cutthroat politics.

Niall was a big male, broad and tall, with long brown hair he kept tied back off his shoulders. His tawny eyes were bronze in the moonlight. He bowed in acknowledgement to Uthe’s jest. “My lord, I intended no offense.”

“None was taken. Such a treasure requires constant vigilance.” Uthe turned his attention to Alanna as she put a plate of cookies and two glasses of lemonade before him and Keldwyn, who’d taken the picnic table bench across from him. They were both tall enough men he felt Keldwyn’s knee press on the inside of his, but the Fae didn’t remove the contact. He took a cookie, his attention on Uthe as he bit into it, licked the crumbs from his lips.

Heaven help him, he was staring. Uthe pulled his gaze away. He really needed blood, but he wouldn’t take it until Evan was present. “Have you three been here long?”

“Just these past few weeks. We were in France before then.” Every vivid expression of happiness turned Alanna’s delicate features into a score of possible paintings. Uthe suspected Evan had endless photographs of her. Evan and Niall were two more vampires to add to the growing list of those who didn’t conceal the depth of their feelings for their servant. Niall had no obvious interest in taking his own, the two of them sharing her for blood and whatever other needs they had. Theirs was a three-way relationship, since the two men were equally devoted to one another.

“Evan said you would have particularly liked one of the places we visited there,” she continued. “La Couvertoirade, in Averyon. Do you know it? It was on the travel routes for the Templars to and from the Holy Lands, wasn’t it?”

Pleasure and sadness swept through him as he recalled Shahnaz. “Yes, it was. We had a hospital there and a chapel. Martins nested in the eaves.”

“They still do,” Alanna said, pleased at the connection.

The town was peaceful, far more peaceful than the Holy Lands that had been the ultimate destination of many Templars who passed through it. “And what masterpiece did Evan create there?”

“Something with gravel and broken glass. I could have taken him out behind a Scottish pub tae find the same.”

Alanna gave Niall an affectionate look of exasperation. “The picture features the different cross styles in the cemetery. He’s changing the order of the crosses, making patterns of them. Patterns within patterns. It’s a new technique he’s doing, combining photography and paint, along with broken glass and rock gravel he picked up from the site itself.”

“And you are serving him and Niall well?”

Her gaze swept down. “That is for my Masters to say, my lord. But I do my very best to care for them.”

“I suspect that is far more than they deserve.”

“No doubt, my lord,” Niall said with amusement. “But best no’ give her too many airs. She already thinks she runs things around here.”

Uthe touched her face to draw her attention back up to him. Only a handful of months ago, Niall’s joke would have discomfited her greatly, Alanna interpreting it literally as a black mark against her InhServ training. Now he saw humor dancing in her once far-too-serious eyes.

“If I was putting my money on which of them gets above their station,” said a new voice, “it would be the newly turned vampire who likes to show off his fangs at every opportunity.”

Evan was windblown enough to suggest he’d made haste, remedying any lack of perceived courtesy at his delay. The genuine pleasure in his face had a peculiar effect on Uthe. He’d always been very fond of the younger vampire, but Evan’s obvious eagerness to see his sire flooded Uthe with sentiment. Vampires downplayed connections to other vampires; however, the young artist Uthe had turned on his deathbed was the closest thing Uthe had to a son. And this might be the last time he’d see him.

Even though he’d been frail as a human, Evan had been a handsome male, and the strong sculpted features of his Jewish heritage were only enhanced by his vampire conversion. He had thick dark hair he kept cut to his nape and gray deep set eyes that examined everything around him with an artist’s eye. His shoulders were broad though he was rangy, muscles lean and knotted.

“Better one who likes tae show his fangs than one who’s always showing his arse,” Niall returned. At Evan’s arched brow and what Uthe expected was a mind-to-mind reminder of the rank of their company, Niall cleared his throat. “My apologies again, my lords. ‘Tis rough living out here.”

“You had three hundred years to learn manners around vampires,” Uthe said, rising to hold out a hand in greeting to Evan. “Though I expect you’re less used to exercising them here, it’s important to have them ready to hand. You don’t want to offend the wrong vampire, Niall.”

Niall wasn’t as bad as Gideon, but the reminder was needed, especially now that he was a vampire. A fledgling would be broken faster than even a servant if he got above himself.

“Thanks, my lord. He never listens to me.”

Then, undermining the point irreparably, Evan bypassed Uthe’s outstretched hand and gave him an exuberant hug. Uthe returned the gesture, though, keeping the admonishment to himself.

As Evan drew back, his eyes narrowed on Uthe’s face. “You need to feed, my lord. You are exceptionally pale.” His gaze shifted to Keldwyn, then back to Uthe. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

Uthe had somehow been maneuvered back down onto the bench. It was disconcerting to be handled, or maybe he’d sat back down himself. Cosseted or forgetful. He wasn’t sure which explanation made him less comfortable. Evan sat down next to him. “What may I do for you, my lord? Anything I can provide is yours.”

Uthe nodded. But rather than speaking immediately of his need for blood, he looked around at the house built into the hill, the beauty and solitude of the place. “You have my envy, Evan. This is a very good spot to create, and to love and live.”

Evan was self-confident in ways that much more physically powerful vampires lacked, because he was exceptionally intelligent and used to relying on his wits instead of brawn. Uthe approved of that, for it boded well for his longevity. That, as well as the Scottish vampire who loved him and would in time be able to crush any physical force that could not be dissuaded by Evan’s considerable intellect.

“Yes, it is.” Evan swept a pleased gaze around them, but Uthe noted it lingered on Alanna and Niall, revealing they were the vital piece of wherever he called home. “I don’t think I could live the life you live, my lord. I’m grateful you’ve given me the opportunity to live outside the structure of the vampire world.”

Once Uthe was gone, that patronage might dry up. Why had he not asked Lyssa to watch after Evan? Because he needed to trust Evan was capable of his own care, he told himself. Niall was now a vampire, and Evan had an InhServ at the top of her class at his side. There were no better allies he could have, once Uthe was gone.

“What is going on, my lord?” Evan repeated. “What brings you here, with Lord Keldwyn?”

“Let him feed first,” Keldwyn said firmly. “Then he will tell you what he wishes to share.”

It was a clear command. Uthe registered Evan’s curiosity about that, about his own passivity in the face of Keldwyn taking charge. He cleared his throat, straightened.

“I need a sustenance feeding. Where we are going, I may not have access to blood for several days. You may have heard I released Mariela from my service. I would prefer to draw blood from a servant rather than an unsuspecting human whose blood origins I do not know.”

Though he certainly could have done that. It was Keldwyn who’d suggested Evan. He wondered now if the Fae had proposed it because it gave Uthe a chance to see Evan, Niall and Alanna once more before entering the Shattered World.

He kept assigning motives to Keldwyn that were entirely sentimental. Perhaps his judgment was already more impaired than he realized.

“Certainly, my lord,” Alanna said immediately. Niall shot her a look.

“Might hold off offering what’s your Masters’ right tae give away,
muirnín
,” he chided her. Alanna bit her lip, her gaze cutting to Evan. Evan rose and went to Niall, putting a hand on his suddenly stiff shoulder. “She didn’t act inappropriately,” he explained. “A Council member can demand blood from any vampire’s servant, except one belonging to another Council member. It is his right.”

“That is true,” Uthe said. “But I am not demanding it, Evan. I assume I do not need to do so, son of my blood.”

It was an old term, not much in use any more. Evan looked toward him, his hand still on Niall. His gray eyes flickered and he inclined his head. “You are correct, my lord.”

At Evan’s gesture, Alanna came to Uthe and knelt in front of him. Her training reminded him so much of Mariela, his heart dipped in nostalgia, hoping she was doing well. He really was getting to be a sentimental old man. Until recently, he’d never felt old. Vampires didn’t experience that. Physically, he didn’t look older than a human in his thirties, and age only brought more strength and speed, unless a factor like the Ennui intervened. That was probably why he suddenly felt…ancient.

“I know you have resumed contact with other InhServs. Have you heard anything of Mariela recently?”

A shadow crossed Alanna’s gaze, and he touched her chin. “Do not lie to me to spare my feelings,” he said.

“She grieves, my lord. It is difficult for any of us to be re-assigned, especially after serving a Master such as yourself, who is the epitome of what our service is about. But our purpose is to serve to the best of our ability, and she will. Mariela will never fail in her duty as an InhServ. Yet she has a high regard for you, my lord.”

Her matter-of-fact praise of him was unexpected, though he hurt for Mariela. “I would consider it a special favor for you to convey that no matter her regard for me, mine is without limitations for her. I send prayers for her well-being daily.”

“Consider it done, my lord.”

He said nothing for a few moments, thinking. He wasn’t even aware of the passage of time, or that his mind had wandered, until Keldwyn leaned forward and touched his shoulder. “My lord,” he said. “It is time for you to feed.”

He focused. Alanna’s gaze was on him, open, caring, and probably all too understanding. He saw shadows in her lovely brown eyes, only now they were for him. There was little that InhServs missed.

“Your wrist, Alanna. That is my preference.”

“Of course.” Rising on her knees, moving between his, she lifted her right arm for him to grasp, her left hand resting on his knee. She had two rings on it, one a pewter band with Celtic-looking scrollwork, and the other antique gold. He expected both had inscriptions on the inside from the men who’d given them to her.

As he brought her wrist to his lips, he inhaled her lovely female fragrance, and nuzzled the silk of her flesh. As he’d told Kel, there was no way to separate a surge of sexual arousal from the feeding process, but he would channel it into the taking of her blood. The slight constriction of his fingers on her arm, a reminder of restraint, made her catch her breath. He was pleased to see her eyes getting that slightly unfocused look a submissive was powerless to suppress when the right triggers occurred. The charge of sexual energy was pleasant. Though it was a benign thing he had no intentions of pursuing, he was amused to see that, as gracefully as Evan had capitulated to his request, he was not entirely separate from Niall’s feelings on the matter. His gaze was trained on her, his face a neutral mask, though his body was preternaturally still.

He was not concerned about Evan’s reaction, though. His gaze shifted to Niall. Another reason Evan had been given permission to turn him was that deficit of strength and abilities a vampire Evan’s age should have. Whereas, since his turning, Niall’s strength had been gaining on his former Master in leaps and bounds, probably accelerated by his additional years as a servant. It would make for an interesting power exchange between them.

Yet as a fledgling, the Scot had less impulse control. He wasn’t pleased Uthe was about to take blood from their servant. While it appeared Niall was doing his best to contain the reaction, Evan shifted to his side and spoke to him a low voice. Niall quivered as he put a hand on his shoulder. At another time, Uthe might reinforce that with a stern reminder to the young vampire he had every right to take blood from his servant, and back it up with a more physical response. However, he had no desire to go through the posturing and aggression vampires used to maintain pecking order.