Shadowstorm (The Shadow World Book 6) (18 page)

“Same here. I’m the only Prime alive who knew his Queen before she was a vampire. Well, unless you count Nico, of course.”

The Elf offered a tired smile. He was still easily worn out, and the last few days hadn’t exactly been an orgy of naps. David saw the faint edge of a bite mark just inside Nico’s collar, and was suddenly hot all over, barely able to concentrate on the conversation.

“…getting in?”

Luckily he’d long ago learned to multitask. “Miranda? She’s in the air right now, and will be here around 3am. Now that we have the airstrip it’ll be ten minutes, not an hour, between plane and Haven.”

There was a grin in Jacob’s voice.
“I imagine you’re counting the minutes.”

“Damn right I am. The seconds, in fact. This whole thing was a worthy experiment but I hope to God she never wants to do it again.”

“Once everyone’s situated, we need to talk about everyone gathering together for this summoning ritual from the Codex.”

“I’m working out the specifics on when it must be performed,” Nico told them. “If I’m interpreting the text correctly it requires a Solstice, most likely the Winter when the night is at its longest. That gives us a few months to prepare, and for me to make absolutely sure the translation is accurate.”

“Let’s hope it is—I don’t fancy being turned into a frog or anything.”

Jacob’s words were light but David knew there was genuine trepidation beneath them. This whole Goddess business was worrisome for the Eastern European Pair, and even though Persephone had told David quite clearly that none of them were required to bow to Her, only to work for Her to destroy Morningstar, he couldn’t really blame Jacob for having reservations.

After a few more items of business, mostly concerning what Jacob had heard this week about the Council, they ended the call, leaving David and Nico alone in the Bat Cave.

The Prime went about the usual routine of shutting down the conference system and locking down everything else for the night. He felt Nico’s eyes on him.

“You’re staring again,” David said mildly without looking over.

“It is downright wicked to have hands like yours,” Nico pointed out. “Watching you work is maddening—I love how clever and capable your hands are, but I cannot help wishing they were on me instead of on the keyboard.”

“Give me a few more minutes and they can be.”

Nico gave an exaggerated sigh of frustration. “You are so difficult sometimes.”

David laughed. “I am, aren’t I? I don’t know why people keep falling in love with me.”

“I suspect it involves that thing you do with your tongue.”

The Prime watched the computers go into standby mode, the entire system still running but locked, and he sat back and held still while the scanners verified it was in fact he who had ordered the status change. The primary security screen’s icon went from red to green, flashing “IDENTITY CONFIRMED: PRIME DAVID L. SOLOMON. STANDBY MODE ACTIVATED.”

Nico was grinning. At David’s inquisitive eyebrow, the Elf said, “A few months ago Stella was introducing me to television, and there was a film on about humans traveling in outer space—just now you reminded me of the captain of their ship.”

“God, tell me you mean Picard and not Kirk.”

A blink. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Never mind. I’ll take it as a compliment regardless.” He rose from the chair and extended a hand to help the Elf out of his own; Nico took the opportunity to take firm hold of David’s shoulders and kiss him breathless. David slid his arms around Nico’s waist and pulled him even closer, luxuriating in the taste of his mouth, the scent of his hair.

Faintly dizzy, David said, “Damn…I need to go by and tell Deven about Avi—why don’t you meet me in your suite…unless you want to come with me.”

“No, I don’t,” Nico replied quietly. “You go ahead…I’ll be waiting for you.”

Outside the office, they parted ways for a while—Deven’s room was in one direction, toward the Signet suite, and Nico’s was in the other direction.

Halfway down the hall, he had to stop walking and grab the nearest chair as Nico sent a slow, feathery caress along the link between them, and the whispered command, “Hurry.”

That boy is going to be the death of me…but as deaths go it wouldn’t be the worst I’ve had.

Taking a deep breath, David did as he had been told, and hurried.

Or at least he tried to.

*****

For the first time in a long time, Deven felt…okay.

It was such a pathetic word for such an immense relief, but he wouldn’t claim to be happy, or healing, or anything so ambitious. He didn’t think any of those things were possible for him anymore. But okay, he could manage, as long as he had help.

Nico and David had been so immersed in each other that the former barely noticed his brother was at the Haven; Kai wasn’t offended, as he was grateful to see his twin so happy after all these months of tormented sorrow. As Kai said, he didn’t come here for himself, but for Nico; and if Nico was getting better, that was what mattered. Plus, it left Kai free to devote himself to his new project: Deven.

Kai slept beside him nearly every day, letting Deven fight his way out of nightmares to find a strong shoulder ready for his tremors; he sang the Prime to sleep most mornings, going through the long, long repertoire of songs he’d gathered in his centuries as a Bard. Kai mostly kept to old folk songs from the era Deven had been born, seeing that the first lullaby he’d tried had resonated so deeply.

Mostly, Deven slept, but now he truly
slept,
rather than tossing and turning fitfully until he had to turn to drugs to silence the monsters under his bed. He felt like he was sleeping off years of insomnia bracketed with terrible nightmares. His dreams now were watercolored, blurry, and soft; they were woven from the darkness of rest and renewal, like the time before birth.

Between sleeps, he talked. Kai didn’t pressure him to—in fact the Elf never asked for anything, but let him decide what to reveal—but he listened, without judgment or shock, only with acceptance. Sometimes he asked questions, wanted to hear more about something, laughed at the surprising number of funny stories Deven had forgotten until now, but mostly he just listened, giving no sign of boredom or impatience. As far as it seemed from outside he found every word out of Deven’s mouth utterly fascinating.

Whether that was part of Bardic training or was actually true, Deven didn’t ask. It was just such a relief to be heard…and to be unafraid to speak.

He found himself remembering things, both good and harrowing, that had slipped from his memory centuries ago. He remembered moments of his childhood; he remembered moments with his father, and his grandmother; his brash, cruel older brothers; the long and lonely journey to the monastery. He remembered even worse things his uncle had done in his quest to beat the queer out of him, for there was no hatred so easily turned on another as that already pointed at oneself.

He remembered being hauled from bed in the middle of the night, naked, his young lover dragged away after only a few days of awkward touching and a single hurried blow job in his chamber. He never saw that boy again, and never expected to see anything. The soldiers had dragged him to the House of God, as the Inquisition’s headquarters was called, and sins he had thought were secret—his healing a friend’s broken ankle, the way his eyes turned colors—were thrown in his face along with his perversions. That lover had been beaten until he gave up every secret passed to him over the pillows in the damp Irish night.

He wept into Kai’s shoulder for that boy whose name he didn’t even remember, but also for the boy he himself had been once, back when he’d sat at his father’s knee reading the Psalms to the family, Donal’s big hand on his head, rumbling deep voice reciting passages with him. They were a well-regarded family because of the size of their farm and because his mother was a midwife…had they come for her, too, eventually?

Then there was Lesela, who begged her daughter to let the Elves take her son…he would be safe among them, and his mixed blood would eventually be forgotten, but here…here, he would be murdered.

At that point, Kai spoke. “Lesela?”

Deven looked up at him, surprised at the surprise. “Yes.”

“Lesela is your grandmother.”

“Yes. Why?”

Kai chuckled. “I know her. She is a powerful, and formidable, woman. A healer, as are you, as well as a prophet…and my brother would no doubt turn scarlet if I told you this, but, he and she were lovers once, a long time ago.”

Deven frowned. “My Consort slept with my grandmother. Just when I though this whole thing couldn’t get any more ridiculous.”

Kai sobered, however, and said, “I should have noticed the resemblance right away—you have her pale eyes and that stubborn chin. She would, I am sure, be pleased to meet you someday.”

“I don’t know…I…”

Kai heard the fear, and kissed it away, touching his lips lightly to Deven’s closed eyes, then his lips, then his forehead. “You need not fear,
i’lyren.
She would not come unless you asked. But if you are ever ready, you should do so. I think after the family you were stuck with all those years ago you should get to have one that knows and accepts you.”

“Accepts me? The way they accept your brother?”

The Bard nodded thoughtfully. “Lesela is not like the others. She has never once been afraid of either of us, and she sought Nico out herself wanting to learn more about what makes us different. Apparently he chose a pretty direct way to show her.”

“Do you know what happened to my parents?”

“No. But I imagine Lesela does—I can ask her when I am home next.”

“No, that’s…I don’t think I really want to know, I just…I’ve been thinking so much about my father lately, but I barely knew my mother. She was always afraid of me, but looking back I think she was afraid of everything. She lived in fear that the Church would come for her, even though she didn’t manifest any arcane abilities.”

“Yet she sent you off to live with that Church?”

“She thought that locked away in a monastery I would be hidden, protected. Being in a constant state of prayer might balance out my demon blood and save me from perdition. In her way I think she was honestly trying to help—I wanted to be a priest, but a position like that would have been too public. She knew I could spend my life with God, and with books, and maybe be happy. She didn’t know my uncle, didn’t know what she was sending me into. She and everyone in the village…they weren’t bad people. Their world was small and they had a lot of fear dogging their steps, even without Elven blood. Human lives are so easily destroyed.”

Kai took gentle hold of one of Dev’s hands and began rubbing it; the vampire carried a lot of tension in his hands, and massaging them was one of the most soothing things the Bard could do for him. Nico had done the same, once, after an intense healing session had left Deven emotionally wrung out and shaking…Deven remembered how later he’d thought about it over and over, something very different from comfort in those thoughts.

Kai once again intuited what was on his mind, and said, eyes on Deven’s palm, “You know, even if he and the Prime are spending most of their time together, if you were to ask to see Nico, he would be at your door in moments.”

“I know.” Deven sighed, shut his eyes, and for the first time, said hesitantly, “Maybe…maybe someday. I just…not yet.”

A nod. Kai didn’t push. He continued his work, eventually switching hands, and again that feeling of well-being settled in Deven’s mind. Outside this room everything was still broken, still wrong; but for a while every day he could lay it down and feel safe with his…counselor? Healer?

“How about ‘friend,’” Kai suggested.

He was getting used to the Elf overhearing his thoughts—in fact if he’d wanted to he could easily have stopped it, but he found it strangely reassuring…less lonely.

Their eyes met. After a moment Deven gave him a tentative smile. “All right,” he said softly. “Friend.”

But there was something he needed to know before he could completely accept that word. He hated to bring it up, to potentially destroy whatever this was, but… “Kai, are you…I mean, do you…”

He deliberately trailed off, hoping Kai would hear the rest of that sentence too so he wouldn’t have to say it aloud.

Kai frowned slightly. His expression darkened, and though it wasn’t anger, it made Deven’s heart skip with anxiety.
Have I ruined this too?

“You think that I am only helping you because I want you as a lover? That I would take advantage of your pain in such a despicable way? And even worse, that I would bed down with my brother’s soul mate when he cannot even come near you? That is what you think of me? What is
wrong
with you people?”

The expression made sense suddenly—it was hurt. “No, no,” Deven said, mentally kicking himself for not being clear about his meaning. “Of course not. I just…I know that your people are all bisexual to one degree or another, and you’re very…affectionate. I don’t mind—I like it a lot actually—but Elven culture is very different when it comes to this sort of thing.”

He still felt like he was making a total mess of the explanation, but Kai nodded slowly. Some of the hurt faded from his eyes, though they were still stricken.

“I’m sorry, Kai. I didn’t mean to…” This time, Deven simply didn’t know what to say, and averted his eyes, trying not to lose what little composure he had regained. Still, he heard the pleading in his own voice, hating the sound even as he said, “Don’t be angry. It’s just…I’ve only known you a few days, but you’ve been…amazing. I don’t want to fuck this up like I do everything else. Don’t…don’t leave. I…”

Kai let out a breath and nodded again. His empathy was clearly able to find the meaning behind the words even if Deven couldn’t express himself like an adult anymore.

The Bard placed a hand around the back of Deven’s head and drew him close again, his presence wrapping around the vampire like the wings Deven had imagined that night he’d first woken with Kai beside him. Kai might worship Theia, but Someone else seemed to have borrowed him for a while.