Sunrise(Pact Arcanum 2) (36 page)

Lorcan rolled his eyes, led Nick down the hall to the short-range teleport gateway, and dialed in his code for the living quarters on the upper floor.

* * *

Only one thing among the mostly utilitarian furnishings of Lorcan’s quarters went any way toward making the apartment a home: the books. There were hundreds of them, Nick noticed. Hardbacks mostly, bound in cloth and leather, filling the three bookcases that lined one wall. Otherwise, the apartment held just a bed, a desk, a couch, and a glass coffee table. Lorcan took the bottle into the small kitchenette and removed two glasses from a cabinet before stripping the foil wrapping from the top of the bottle. He watched as Nick gazed at the books, the Daywalker’s eyes slightly unfocused as he reached into Luscian’s memories to read the titles on the spines.

Finally, Nick addressed Lorcan with new respect. “Nice collection.”

Lorcan shrugged and drew the cork out of the bottle using telekinesis. “I love words.”

Nodding, Nick examined the bookcases again. “Is this all of it, or just the part you brought with you?”

“Just what I brought with me.” Lorcan poured a generous measure of the red liquor into each glass, warmed them both, and handed one to Nick. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” said Nick. Then he sipped at his drink, regarding Lorcan thoughtfully. “Now I really do want to hear your poetry.”

“You were serious about that?”

“I write songs for a living, Ruarc.” Nick grinned. “Give me a little credit.”

Lorcan smiled back. “All right.” They sat on the couch and Lorcan recited some of his works while Nick mentally translated the ones that weren’t in English. Then they talked about what had changed in their lives since their first meeting, until they were both pleasantly numb from the wine. Nick’s eyes wandered about the room, finally fixing on a detail he hadn’t noticed before: a small wooden stand in the center of Lorcan’s desk, which held a plastic card with the Journeymen logo on it.

Pulling himself to his feet, Nick walked to the desk. “You kept it.” He gestured to the plastic card with the word ‘Security’ printed across the face.

Lorcan walked over to stand behind Nick and hesitantly slipped his arms around the Daywalker. “I told you what that night meant to me, Nicholas. It was everything.”

Turning around in Lorcan’s arms, Nick gazed silently into his eyes. Then he leaned forward and kissed the Nightwalker’s lips. “Are you as lonely as I am, Ruarc?” he asked, hearing the Nightwalker’s heart accelerate.

“We’ve been down this road before, Nick.”

Nick smiled lazily at him. “And it was a fun road, wasn’t it? It could be just as it was—no commitments, no promises—but we’d be friends this time, instead of enemies.”

“Are we friends?” whispered Lorcan.

Nick stroked Lorcan’s cheek. “Yes, we are.”

As Lorcan leaned in for another kiss, Nick began working on the buttons of his shirt.

July 2038; Court of Shadows Embassy, Icehaven City, Hudson Bay, Canada; Three weeks later

Lorcan lay on his side, watching Nick’s face as the Daywalker slept beside him.
I should be elated. This was what the Huntmaster had suggested, to gain influence over an insider to the Triumvirate.
The Court had wanted him to rekindle this relationship.
So why do I feel so ambivalent?
He sifted through his emotions as he replayed the last three weeks in his mind.

The truth crashed into his mind like an anvil falling from the sky.
No. Oh, no. Not like this.
He could not have fallen in love with Nick. It wasn’t possible. The ache in his heart was gone, noticeable only by its absence, replaced by terror.
I promised myself never again to feel this way. I can’t be that vulnerable again. I won’t be.

Nick stirred slightly in his sleep and smiled. “Ruarc,” he whispered, before slipping deeper into slumber.

Sighing, Lorcan laid his head down on the pillow and listened to Nick’s quiet breathing.

I am so fucked.

PART VII:  BOUND

CHAPTER 46

December 2038; Anchorpoint City, Colorado; Five months later

Nick relaxed against the headboard as he watched Lorcan dress. “It’s funny how we always seem to be saying goodbye these days.”

Lorcan, trying to locate his shirt, fixed Nick with a rueful expression. “That’s never going to change as long as you keep working the day shift.”

Nick shrugged. “It’s just that, no matter where we meet, one of us has to walk home. We’re both high profile, Ruarc. People talk.”

With a sigh, Lorcan sat on the bed next to him. “I don’t like having my sex life made obvious to everyone who sees me walking down the street any more than you do.” He reached up to wrap his arm around Nick’s neck, drawing the Daywalker closer. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.” Nick shook his head. “I like being with you. I was just wondering if there’s an alternative.”

Lorcan’s eyebrows shot up but his voice remained level. “I assume you’re not thinking of asking me to move in with you?”

Nick blinked. “Um … no, I … no, I wasn’t.” He quickly recovered his train of thought. “It’s just that you live in Icehaven, and I live in Anchorpoint. Maybe we could compromise. Find someplace neutral, like the Citadel.”

Lorcan grinned. “And we both walk home afterward? Clever. Only you would think of being discreet by being even more obvious.”

Nick smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”

Lorcan leaned in to kiss him and Nick wrapped the Nightwalker in a tight embrace.

The front door chimed.

Lorcan pulled away, frowning. “Are you expecting someone?”

Nick cursed to himself. “It’s Rory. We were going to have breakfast before I head back to Tokyo.”

“I see.” Lorcan’s expression was guarded. “I wish you had mentioned that before. I would have left earlier.”

“He’s my best friend, Ruarc. I know you guys don’t get along, but—”

“We each have a claim on you, Nicholas,” Lorcan said. “Nightwalkers defend their claims with fang and claw.”

“I know, I know,” Nick said apologetically. “I’ll ask him to come back later.”

Lorcan sighed. “Don’t bother. I was already on my way out. It will just be a more unpleasant departure than I was hoping for.” He climbed to his feet and began looking for his shirt again.

Nick got out of bed, slipped on a pair of sweatpants and made his way to the front door.

He unsealed the door and swung it aside to reveal Rory dressed in a thin black sweater and jeans. The Nightwalker wrinkled his nose. “Damn, Nick. You smell like sex.”

“Listen, Rory, about breakfast—”

“He’s still here,” Rory said, tight-lipped with anger. “His scent is all over you.”

Shit.
“He was just leaving. Give me a couple of minutes to get dressed and I’ll be all yours. Honest.”

“Fine.” Rory’s tone was surly. “Shall I wait inside, or shall I walk around the block until you’ve said your goodbyes?”

Nick sighed. “No, you can come in. Just please try to be civilized. I have enough to do today without having to replace any more broken furniture.”

“I told you that coffee table was too fragile.” Lorcan’s voice behind him was calm and controlled. “You should have invested in something sturdier.”

Nick moved wearily aside and Rory walked past him into the apartment. Lorcan stood at the entrance to the bedroom, wearing an arrogant expression, a long-sleeved linen shirt and gray slacks.

Rory met his eyes. “I don’t believe I apologized for throwing you into it, Primogenitor Diluthical.” Rory smiled pleasantly, his fangs exposed. “I shouldn’t have let your bad manners drive me to such a crass display of temper.”

Lorcan grinned, his own fangs fully extended. “Not at all, Magister Jiao-long. The fault was mine for embarrassing you about such an obvious deficiency in the internal hierarchy of your house.” He cocked his head slightly. “And how has your search for a Primogenitor progressed? Any prospects?”

Rory snarled. “I have a Primogenitor, Lorcan.”

Lorcan gave a deep, rumbling growl. “Not until he says the words, you don’t,” he spat.

“Enough!” Nick stepped into the space between them, the air crackling with rage, and raised his palms, as if holding them at bay. “Stop it, both of you! All I want is to live my life—what little of it your two empires have left to me. If you guys can’t understand that, then maybe I’m better off without either of you!”

“Fine,” said Rory, crossing his arms. “We have an hour before sunrise; I don’t want to waste it arguing.”

“Agreed,” said Lorcan, stepping forward to kiss Nick on the cheek. “Have a good night in Japan, Nicholas. Get some sleep on the train. You look tired.” He walked stiffly to the door and let himself out.

Rory unclenched his fists as the tension in the room palpably decreased. He took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly.

“Feeling better?” asked Nick, his voice sour.

“Crap. I’m sorry, Nick. He just gets to me.”

“I know he does.” Nick strode back to the bedroom to get dressed. “But while the two of you are busy marking your territory, I have to stand in the middle and get pissed on.”

December 2038; Chuo Shinkansen Maglev Terminal, Tokyo, Japan

“Damn, Nick,” Scott said in Arcolin. “You look like shit.”

Nick slumped in his seat and said nothing. They’d booked the whole first class Green car for themselves and their security team, so at least they didn’t have to deal with overly aggressive fans this early in the morning. The problem with Nick keeping himself on Anchorpoint time was that he never fully adjusted to the time zones he was touring. Still, it was a small price to pay to sleep in his own bed, wrapped in Lorcan’s arms. He allowed himself a fleeting smile before remembering the scene in his living room less than ninety minutes earlier.

Scott shook his head as he watched Nick scowl out the window. “In ten seconds you went through two mood swings,” he said. “What’s up with you?”

Their lead bodyguard snorted loudly. “Guys, could you stop speaking in gibberish? It kind of freaks the rest of us out.”

Nick answered without looking up. “I told you. It’s not gibberish. It’s Esperanto. We just changed all the words for fun.”

The bodyguard laughed. “You guys have way too much time on your hands.”

“Let me guess,” Scott said to Nick, still speaking in Arcolin. “The cats were fighting again.”

“At least they didn’t break anything this time,” Nick replied in the same language.

Scott sat back in his seat with a sigh. A moment later, the train accelerated smoothly out of the station with a deep, vibrant hum. “They’re Nightwalkers. As long as they both have a piece of you, they’re committed to fighting it out. Rory has a soul, so he can leash it at least a little. I’m surprised Lorcan manages to back down as often as he does.”

“Lorcan has had five hundred years to learn to control his temper,” said Nick. He leaned his head against the window. “I’m going to take a nap.”

“Nick, the train’s going 350 miles per hour,” Scott said, staring out at the landscape as the train burst out of the deep tunnels and onto the surface tracks. “We’ll be in Osaka in forty-five minutes, tops. You’ll just make yourself even more tired if you try to sleep through the ride.”

Nick burrowed into the softness of his seat, trying to get comfortable. “Don’t care,” he said archly.

“Fine.” Scott shrugged. “But don’t expect me to get you out of bed if you’re too jet-lagged to make it to our interview in the morning.”

Scott settled into his seat to wait, watching the landscape blur past the window and wishing that, like Nick, he could just jump back and forth between his home and the tour every day. Much as he wanted to be with his wife and son daily, the risks of telling them the truth were too great. Both he and Nick had made a conscious decision to keep their families out of it. As long as the Armistice held, they would be safe in North America, and the blood rank Nick had bestowed upon Scott would protect his family from direct challenge, even if they chose to join him on tour.

It wouldn’t last, though. He knew Nick’s brother was trying to set up a concert tour outside the Armistice Zone, and there was no way Scott could think of to secretly protect him within Court of Shadows protocol. In typical fashion, Nick lived in denial, pretending some alternative to telling his family would somehow materialize.

The train slowed to a stop, entering Nagoya station. Scott shifted in his seat but continued to stare out the window. Frowning, he considered Nick’s relationship with Lorcan.
Talk about denial
.

Naturally, he disapproved, but it was obvious that Nick didn’t care. The younger Journeyman just did what he wanted, expecting Scott to pick up the pieces. It was selfish and egotistical, and had a tendency to blow up in his face. Scott loved Nick like a brother, but he wasn’t blind to the Daywalker’s faults.

Maybe I should say it to his face,
Scott thought.
His so-called relationship just makes me look bad. How am I supposed to have any credibility as one of the Four Winds when my Second is shacked up with the enemy’s lead diplomat?

He rolled his eyes.
Then again, Takeshi gets by as the fucking Speaker for the Watch when he’s sleeping with a vampire lord. Given how much flak he takes for that, why should I get off light?

He sighed as he looked at the sleeping vampire next to him.
At least Take and Rory have each other. Nick’s been through a lot, and Lorcan is the first person he’s stuck by for any length of time. I was beginning to think he’d never get tired of slutting around. I’ll say one thing for Lorcan Primogenitor Diluthical: he managed to make Nick believe in monogamy, even if Nick doesn’t think of it as a real relationship.
Scott smiled.
Maybe love does conquer all. I wonder if Nick is ever going to figure out how Lorcan feels about him?
His focus drifted in response to a burst of psychic noise to his senses.
What the hell?
Reaching out, he shook Nick awake.