Sunrise(Pact Arcanum 2) (17 page)

Rory sighed. “Unfortunately, that’s almost true. Take and I are civil to each other, but Ana can’t stand me, except on professional terms.”

“What happened? You guys seemed so tight when I toured with you.”

Rory’s expression darkened. “Why don’t we leave that for another time,” he said, as he turned away and walked to the door.

Nick watched him go, trying to think of something to say, afraid he had pissed the older man off. “Rory, wait.”

Pausing with one hand on the open door, Rory turned back. “What?”

Nick licked his lips in hesitation. “Is there going to be another time?”

Rory’s expression grew stony. “We’ll just have to see,” he said. Then he pulled the door open and walked out.

Nick wondered if he’d just ruined something precious. He could only watch silently as the door closed behind Rory’s retreating back just as the first light of the rising sun lit up the room.

* * *

After a quick mental probe of his surroundings confirmed there was no one watching, Rory subvocalized into the microphone implanted beneath the skin of his larynx. “Cutlass.”

The AI resident in his personal electronics answered silently, its voice sounding in Rory’s ears by bone conduction. “Rory.”

“Transit me back to the council chamber.”

“Certainly.”

The world flashed white momentarily, and then Rory found himself standing on the teleport gateway at the apex of the central spire of Anchorpoint. He strode to the wraparound window that ran the circumference of the room and looked down at the lesser towers of the city spread out beneath him. “It was fun while it lasted,” he said out loud as he released the disguise spell that had aged his features in public.

“Do you intend to accept Nicholas’ invitation?” asked the AI.

“I would like to.” Regret softened his tone. “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“How so?”

“He’s a Sentinel, Cutlass. I could feel it the moment he touched my hand.” Rory raised his gaze to the forest beyond the perimeter ward that concealed the city. “He’s still latent, but if I spend time with him there’s always a risk I might let my shields slip and kindle his Gift. I wouldn’t inflict that on anyone.”

“Forgive me for saying so, but that sounds like a rationalization rather than a reason.”

Rory scowled. “Excuse me?”

“I have observed you since the day my program was uploaded into your implants, Rory. You never allow anyone to get close to you, never let yourself be anything but the Redeemer.” The AI’s voice was pleasantly neutral, but Rory heard the reproof. “Tell me, why did you decide to go to the Christmas party?”

Rory moved away from the window and took his seat at the head of the trapezoidal conference table, Takeshi and Layla’s empty seats on either side of him. His eyes traced out the seal of the Triumvirate that was inlaid in the sandalwood table—a triangular design of three interlocked spirals representing the three metahuman races. “Because there’s nothing here for me,” he said softly. “I wanted a change of scene, and I thought it would be harmless to live in their world for one night.”

“And now that night is over. Are you going to turn back into a pumpkin?”

Rory laughed at the AI’s loose interpretation of popular culture. “That’s not exactly how the story goes, Cutlass.”

“Indeed. Cinderella left a slipper behind, rather than taking a token with her. ”

Reaching into his pocket, Rory drew out Nick’s note. “I should just throw it away. There’s no point keeping it.”

“That would certainly be true to form.”

“Meaning what, exactly?”

“In the four years I have known you, I have never seen you take any personal risks. You choose the safe path, the most reasonable option. Always. Until tonight.”

Rory said nothing. Slowly, he unfolded the note. Above the phone number, Nick had written a short message.

To The One That Got Away,

I enjoyed our talk. Thanks for the Christmas cheer. I really needed it, and I think you did, too. Don’t sell us short this time, Rory.

Call me.

Your friend, Nick.

Rory was transfixed by the simple sentiment. It was true; he had needed it. In fact, he was actually in an unexpectedly good mood. For one night, he had stepped offstage and mingled with the audience. He hadn’t realized, until that moment, how much he missed the sense of connection he had lost when Ana threw him out of her life and he had pushed Takeshi away.

Is it worth the risk?
He’d have to be careful, obscure any hint that he wasn’t human. And he’d have to fabricate a reason why he didn’t go out in the daylight.
It could work; I just have to put in the effort to be disciplined.
As he started making tentative plans, Rory realized he had already made his decision. Smiling to himself, he read the note again. Then he carefully folded it up and slipped it back into his shirt pocket.

“Cutlass, do me a favor. Tell me everything you can find out about Nicholas Jameson.”

CHAPTER 22

June 2033; Los Angeles, California; Six months later

Rory leaned awkwardly against the back wall of the nightclub, feeling his bones vibrate from the thumping bass line of the loud music, unsure of what to do next. When Nick had invited him to the birthday party, he’d been a little apprehensive, but he hadn’t expected to be the only person in the room who didn’t know anyone. He sipped at the whiskey and soda in his hand, surveying the sea of strangers around him. The heady emotions of the crowd overwhelmed his vampire senses, forcing him to withdraw behind his mental shields and leaving him as psychically blind as a human. The numbing of his mystical senses left him uneasy, his predatory instincts urging him to flee to more familiar ground.

“You look lonely,” said a voice to his left.

Rory discovered a teenager standing beside him and watching him with amusement. “Sorry, what?”

The boy held a glass of soda in each hand. Raising them, he leaned closer and spoke a little louder. “You aren’t enjoying the party. Did Nick forget to introduce you to anyone?”

Rory shrugged. “Something like that.”

The teenager laughed. “He gets kind of scatterbrained at these things. Don’t worry; he’ll remember you eventually. I’m Toby.” He waved his drinks vaguely. “I’d shake your hand, but I’m kind of fully loaded right now.”

Rory made the connection, realizing why the young man looked so familiar. Toby’s resemblance to his brother Nick at the same age was remarkable. He had the same air of cockiness Nick had shown on their tour together, and he obviously wasn’t shy, striking up a conversation with a total stranger.

“Rory Brennigan. Pleased to meet you.”

“Really? Nick’s new best friend? He talks about you all the time.”

Rory sipped his drink to mask his sudden nervousness. “What does he say?”

“Don’t worry,” Toby said with a wink. “It’s nothing bad. He thinks you’re the coolest guy ever.” He leaned against the wall next to Rory. “You used to be in the business, right? What did you play?”

Rory smiled. “Drums. Not exactly the most glamorous instrument.”

“Who cares? If you’re anything like me, you play for fun, not recognition.”

Rory tilted his head and looked at Toby again. “So you’re a musician, too?”

Toby grinned. “Violinist. Started out classical, but I’m getting into jazz and folk more these days. A few of my friends from school are putting together a group, and they want me to round out their sound.”

“Very musical family,” said Rory. “Does your sister perform, as well?”

“Nah.” Toby shook his head. “Faith couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. She’s totally focused on medical school. More power to her.” He glanced over Rory’s shoulder. “Looks like Nick finally remembered you.”

Rory followed his gaze to see Nick weaving through the crowd. “Better late than never.”

Toby snorted and took a big gulp from the glass in his left hand. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Rory, but there’s a young lady out there who’s wondering when I’m going to bring her the drink I promised. See you around.”

“Bye, Toby.” Rory looked at the approaching birthday boy.

“Rory, I’m sorry.” Nick blushed, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to ditch you when you don’t know anyone else.”

“I met your brother.”

Nick smiled. “If you’d been a girl, he’d have been all over you. He’s a total flirt.”

Rory laughed. “So are you. I guess you have something in common.”

“You have no idea.” Nick turned serious. “I’d do anything for him, and he knows it.”

“I envy you.” Rory nodded towards Toby’s retreating back. “I don’t have any family left.”

They stood there for a moment, uncertain of what to say. Finally, Nick broke the ice. “Why don’t I introduce you to a few people?”

Rory nodded. “Sure.” He followed Nick back into the press of bodies. Everyone around them was dancing, making it almost impossible to keep track of Nick, even though he was only a few steps ahead. Exasperated, Rory opened up his senses a little, picking out the musician’s mind near the far wall of the club. He followed the trace to discover Nick in conversation with another man, a year or two older. He was shorter than Nick, with dark brown hair and eyes, and wore a green T-shirt and blue jeans. The riotous celebration seemed to leave him untouched, and his face was serene—an eddy of calm amid the chaos.

“Rory!” Nick waved him over. “This is my bandmate, Scott Phillips.” He turned back to Scott. “Scotty, this is Rory, my friend from when I was touring with my old band. He played the drums back then, but he’s dropped out of the scene. Now he’s a painter.”

Scott smiled, revealing a flash of white teeth that contrasted with his tanned skin. He extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Rory.”

Rory shook Scott’s hand, and swallowed the bland pleasantry he’d been about to utter. Reaching out with his enhanced senses, he verified what he had learned from the direct physical contact.
Sentinel.
Scott was Water latent, and a strong one, stronger than any other Water Sentinel Rory had ever met. “It’s an honor, Scott,” he said finally.

Scott laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been honored to meet me before.”

Rory tried to process what he had detected: the sense of connection he had felt the instant he touched Scott’s hand.
How did Nick wind up with
 
…
 
Crap.
Rory looked at Nick again, suddenly afraid. Latents aggregated subconsciously when their talents were compatible enough to form a psychic link.
They’re a dyad.
Their futures were set; they just didn’t know it yet.
Oh, Nicholas
, he thought.
I’m so sorry.

Nick frowned at his friend’s expression. “Is something wrong?”

Rory shook his head. Any interest he’d had in celebration had just turned sour. “No, I’m just a little tired. Would you be offended if I hit the road early?”

“No, that’s fine.” Nick said, his disappointed expression belying his words. “It’s too bad. We’ve got the place booked for another hour. You want to give me call tomorrow? Maybe we can meet for dinner.”

“Absolutely.” Rory hugged him. “Happy birthday, Nicholas.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Rory turned and made his way back to the door. Stepping into the open air, he walked down a nearby alley to teleport without being observed. Just before he jumped home, however, he felt Takeshi reach out to him over the link.

“Rory, I need you, right now. We’ve got a situation.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The Huntmaster of the Court of Shadows just showed up on the border of Mexico, and he wants to talk to you.”

Armistice Coastal Defense Perimeter, Cancun, Mexico; Ten minutes later

As the white light of the teleport matrix faded, Rory looked around him. His senses were sharp in the dusk, and the jump from Los Angeles to Mexico in high summer felt like stepping into an oven. Although his vampire physiology was immune to the climate, he didn’t relish spending any more time here than he had to.
The sooner we get this settled, the better.

Sentinels wearing the gray uniform of Armistice Security formed carefully regimented half-circles before him, all the way up to the invisible perimeter shield that stretched the length of the coast. The soft lapping of the water against the docks was all but drowned out by the screaming of gulls overhead. Walking forward between the ranks of Sentinels, he made his way to Take’s side at the base of the gangplank. A short, fair-skinned Nightwalker with nondescript brown hair and eyes stood on the deck of the large yacht just offshore. Rory opened his vampire senses to look more closely and was stunned by the radiant aura of power that surrounded the man. “Imperator Luscian,” Rory said, pitching his voice to carry across the short expanse of water between them, “you asked for this meeting. What are your intentions?”

Luscian smiled at him. “My Lord Traveler. It is an honor to finally meet you in person after reading so many reports about your activities.” He folded his arms across his red polo shirt and leaned forward casually against the deck rail. “I wish to offer you the opportunity for a negotiated settlement over the disputed territories of North America.”

Rory regarded him with narrowed eyes. “That is a fairly significant concession, my Lord. I was under the impression the Court had sworn never to yield their claims to the lands the Triumvirate currently control, nor to the vampires who choose to reside within the Armistice Zone.”

“I am Huntmaster of the Court of Shadows, Prince Sean. I created the Court. It belongs to me. If I choose to negotiate, they will follow my lead or I will reduce them to dust and ashes.” He laughed. “It wouldn’t be the first time I have needed to resort to such measures.”

“Charming,” Rory said. “What is your proposal, my Lord?”

“I will cede to House Jiao-long and House Curallorn the territory of North America as a whole, to administer as you see fit. You may retain the allegiance of those Nightwalkers and Daywalkers who have chosen to reside in your lands, as long as they make no attempt to leave the Zone.”