Crimson Moon (3 page)

Neo turned on a small lamp before opening one of the large, flat drawers used to house the original paintings. He turned and shifted his gaze between Gunnar and Ramiro. “You are two of the few who have ever been allowed in this area. What you see is for your eyes only. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Gunnar answered immediately. He’d sworn allegiance to Neo long ago and, although he may lose his position once the war was over, his loyalties would always stand true.

After Ramiro had also agreed, Neo stepped back. “This is a depiction of the battle between Uranus and
Cronus
.”

Gunnar wasn’t sure what he was supposed to see. It was Ramiro who commented. “Just before his balls were lopped off, I gather.”

Neo chuckled. “Yes.” Neo moved over several rows before opening another drawer. “Now this one is of
Morwyn’s
war with
Nialo
and the dragons. Notice anything?”

Gunnar reached out to touch the ancient canvas but quickly pulled his hand back.
“The sword.
It’s the same.”

“Yes. And according to history, the sword was never far from
Morwyn’s
side. It’s the same weapon he used to separate himself from
Nialo
.” Neo pointed towards the canvas. “I believe
Morwyn’s
looking for that sword. I think it’s the reason he’s assembling an army.”

There was something in the way Neo said it that prompted a shiver to race up Gunnar’s spine. A warm hand on his lower back told Gunnar that Ramiro sensed his unease. “Do you know where the sword is?”

“Hanging in a heavily-warded case over the fireplace in King Kildare’s bedroom,” Ramiro supplied.

Gunnar
span
around and stared into Ramiro’s dark eyes, a spark of jealousy rising within him. Gods, he could easily get lost in those dark chocolate depths. He managed to find his voice, despite his body’s reaction to the nearness of the vampire. “Why does he have it?”

“I don’t know,” Ramiro
said,
his focus on Gunnar’s lips.

Dammit
!
Gunnar’s cock hardened before he could turn away.

“Would you ask him?” Neo asked.

Ramiro glanced over Gunnar’s shoulder at Neo. “Would you like me to set up a meeting?”

“Tomorrow evening, seven o’ clock.
I’ll make sure Spiro’s there as well.” Neo shut the drawers before turning off the lamp. “We’re running out of time. With each day, Juniper’s army grows in size and strength.”

* * * *

Just before dawn, Ramiro knocked on Ian’s bedchamber door from his adjoining room. He was taking a risk by seeking audience with Ian at this time of the morning. Not only did Ian have a tendency to become crabby when he was forced to leave his playmates for a day of sleep, but he more than likely had a donor in his room for an early morning snack before bed.

When the door opened almost immediately, it was a surprise. “Come in,” Ian beckoned.

Ramiro followed the totally nude King into his extravagant quarters. The sight of his firm ass didn’t hold the appeal it once had for Ramiro, but it was still quite a work of art. He glanced towards the large fireplace, making sure it was, in fact, the same sword seen in the portraits.

Ian sat on the couch in front of the fireplace. He lifted his splayed legs and rested his heels on the sofa cushions, proudly exposing his hole to Ramiro’s eyes. “What can I do for you?” he asked, his fingers circling the seldom-fucked pucker.

The erotic scene in front of him was almost more than Ramiro could ignore. For centuries Ian had played with Ramiro’s affections, pulling him into bed before unceremoniously kicking him out again. It seemed Ian was in the mood to be taken, something he didn’t allow anyone but Ramiro to do.

Before falling for Gunnar, Ramiro would’ve jumped at the chance to bury his cock in the King’s ass again, but it no longer felt right. However, because of Ian’s position, declining the apparent offer would mean the end of his career. Perhaps if he riled the King, Ian’s attention would focus elsewhere. “Neo would like a meeting with you. He wants to discuss how you came about acquiring
Morwyn’s
sword.”

Ian jumped off the sofa and went to stand between Ramiro and the fireplace. “It’s not
Morwyn’s
sword! It belonged to
Faelan
.
Morwyn
stole it from him, and
Faelan
got it back when
Morwyn
was sentenced for his crimes.”

Ramiro rubbed the back of his neck with his palm, trying to smooth the hairs that had begun to prickle. The vehement way Ian defended
Faelan
was unsettling. As far as Ramiro knew,
Faelan
had deserted Ian and the rest of the
fae
and vampires at around the same time
Morwyn
was exiled to
Tartarus
. “If
Faelan
feels so strongly for the sword, why do you have it?”

“It was a gift,” Ian said defensively. “Not that I need to explain myself to you.” Ian sniffed indignantly. “Tell Neo to forget the sword. It has nothing to do with this mess.”

Ramiro’s eyes narrowed. Was he being given an order? He’d sworn allegiance to Ian long ago, but how could he try and convince Neo of something he didn’t believe himself? Better to think about it, he told himself. He bowed in respect for his king. “What shall I tell Neo about the meeting he’s requested?”

“If you assure him about the sword, there will be no need for a meeting. Am I right?”

“Very well.
I’ll do my best.” Ramiro turned and left the room before Ian’s ardour returned.
Fuck!
He shut the door between rooms, unsure of what to do.
Faelan
.
What part did the Creator’s sword play in the upcoming war, or did it?

* * * *

Gunnar was in bed, asleep, when a touch to his chest woke him. His fangs slid from their sheaths as he lunged towards the threat.

“Control yourself!” Ramiro yelled as Gunnar knocked him to the floor, landing on top of him.

Blinking, Gunnar stared down at Ramiro. He released the hold he had on Ramiro’s neck. “What’re you doing sneaking up on me?”

“I needed to talk to you,” Ramiro whispered.

The confused expression on Ramiro’s face said it all. Gunnar swallowed around the lump in his throat. “What happened?” He slid off Ramiro to sit on the floor next to him.

“I’m worried.”

Although Gunnar hadn’t known Ramiro for long, he’d never seen the vampire so unsettled.
“What about?”

Ramiro sat up and rested his forearms on his bent knees. “I’m being put in the middle of two leaders. One I’ve sworn allegiance to, and another I have the utmost respect for.”

“Neo and Ian?”
Gunnar knew Ramiro was supposed to set up a meeting between the two.

“Ian won’t discuss the sword. He said it was a gift from
Faelan
and had nothing to do with
Morwyn
.”

“But you don’t believe him?” Gunnar ducked his head, trying to make eye contact with Ramiro. He wanted to reach out and offer comfort, but knew it would only lead to trouble.

“I don’t know what to believe.
Faelen’s
like this God of mystery. He hasn’t even been seen or heard from since vampires came into existence. So it begs the question, is Ian telling the truth or is he lying to me because he knows I can’t verify his answer?”

Out of nowhere, Ramiro growled and reached for the bed. He pulled a blanket to the floor before throwing it over Gunnar’s lap.

Gunnar settled the blanket around his waist. His state of undress had been the least of his worries since Ramiro woke him. Although he refused to apologise, it was nice to know his nudity affected Ramiro even at a time of obvious distress. “Well, you’ll have to tell Neo Ian refuses to meet with him.”

“That’s why I feel stuck in the middle. Ian didn’t out-and-out refuse. He just told me to assure Neo the sword had nothing to do with
Morwyn
. I’ve sworn my allegiance to Ian, but if I do what he ordered me to do and it turns out he’s lying, Neo will have my head.”

“Why didn’t you just ask Ian point-blank if he was planning to meet with Neo?” Gunnar asked.

“Because I had to get the hell out of his room before he made me fuck him, alright?” Ramiro barked.

Gunnar leant forwards, nose to nose with Ramiro. “He makes you fuck him?”

“I… He…”Ramiro sputtered. He took a deep breath. “Several times a year he wants me to fuck him. It was never an issue before…”

“Before?”
Gunnar prompted.

“Before I met you.”
Ramiro stood. “I’ll figure it out. Go on back to bed. Hell, I’ve got another four hours before the sun sets, and I have to face Neo.”

The thought of Ramiro returning to Ian’s palace didn’t sit well with Gunnar. “You might as well sleep here—just stay on your side of the bed,” he grumbled.

Ramiro actually chuckled, although it sounded strained. “Your generosity is overwhelming, but I brought my cape.”

“Stay,” Gunnar growled, holding the blanket around him as he stood.

Ramiro stepped forwards and pulled the blanket out of Gunnar’s grasp. He stared into Gunnar’s eyes as he reached down to run his hand over Gunnar’s half-hard cock. “If I stay, there’s no way in Hades I’ll stick to my side of the bed.”

“Would you rather be in Ian’s?” Gunnar asked, jealousy coursing through his veins.

Ramiro’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. “Don’t push me. You’ve got me riding the edge of control right now. One more word and I’ll bend you over the mattress and shove my dick up your ass.”

The image of Ramiro fucking him flashed through Gunnar’s mind. Conflicted, he turned his back towards Ramiro. “I guess you’d better go, then, because I’m no one’s pussy-boy.”

Ramiro bumped his chest against Gunnar’s back hard enough to throw Gunnar off balance. Landing on the mattress, Gunnar quickly rolled over. His protest at the treatment was silenced by Ramiro’s tongue thrusting into his mouth. Oh, Gods, the taste of Ramiro’s kiss conjured images Gunnar was too proud to acknowledge. He opened further, accepting with pleasure the kiss that threatened to turn him from an Alpha to a beta. The thought shocked him. Gunnar pushed against Ramiro’s shoulders, breaking the kiss. “You may not see me as an Alpha, but I do.”

Ramiro grabbed the hair on the back of Gunnar’s head, holding him in place. “Labels have no place in my bed,” he growled. He released Gunnar before turning to stalk from the room.

Gunnar stared at the canopy overhead as he licked the last of Ramiro’s flavour from his lips. He didn’t expect Ramiro to understand. Vampires didn’t think the same way
weres
did. But Gunnar had been labelled an Alpha at the young age of sixteen when he’d fought and killed his own father before walking away from the pack who’d never given him a damn thing except contempt.

“I earned that label, damn it!” he shouted to the empty room.

* * * *

Instead of going back to Ian’s palace, Ramiro ended up in the vault once again, doing research. Hours into his labours he heard footsteps on the stairs. “Who’s there?”

“Michael,” a soft voice replied. “The guard told me you were down here.”

Michael stepped into the room. His sleep-tousled blond curls and big, blue eyes made him look more like an angel than anyone Ramiro had ever seen. “Is it evening already?”

“Not quite.” Michael rubbed his hands over his face as he sat across from Ramiro. “I like a few hours to myself before
Neo’s
up for the night. What’re you doing down here at this time of day?”

Despite Michael’s young age, Ramiro had grown to respect the man’s sensitivity and wisdom. “I’m trying to find information about
Faelan
,” he admitted.

Michael’s eyebrows shot up under the mop of blond hair.
“
Faelan
?
The only time I’ve even heard anyone talk about him was when I was still a boy. I’d asked Spiro where vampires came from and he told me the King of the
Fae
was afraid of the dark so he created vampires to watch over him while he slept.”

Ramiro nodded. He’d heard a similar story, with a few differences. “I heard he was afraid of someone trying to kill him while he slept, but I guess you wouldn’t tell a boy that.”

Michael chuckled.
“Especially not Spiro.
He’s always tried to protect me.” Michael rested his cheek on his palm and yawned. “So what’re you trying to find out about
Faelan
?”

“Where he is.
His history.”
Ramiro shrugged. “I find it strange that he’s barely mentioned.” Ramiro did a broad sweep with his hands at the rows of books. “There are volumes of information about Blessed Creatures, Gods and
demi
-Gods in here, but I haven’t managed to find a single book that pertains to
Faelan
. Why do you think that is?”

“Magic?
Maybe
Faelan
doesn’t want anyone to know his history. His powers must be extraordinary. I wouldn’t think omitting his name from a few books would be hard with that kind of magic on his side.”

“Possibly.”
Ramiro stared at the open book in front of him. “Do you think Spiro knows more about him?”

“He’s half
fae
, so maybe,” Michael supplied. He dropped his hands to the table and leant forwards.
“Why is finding out about
Faelan
so important to you?”

“Because I don’t think this war will be won on the battlefield. If we try to go hand-to-hand with those monsters
Morwyn
has created, not only will Blessed Creatures die, but the human population could easily be decimated.
Especially if the Gods step in to the fight.”

Ramiro didn’t tell Michael he needed to know whether or not Ian was being honest with him. His doubts about the King he’d sworn allegiance to
were
his to prove or disprove.

“Neo said Zeus offered to go to battle with
Morwyn
, but the other Gods forbade it, knowing the toll such a battle would take on Earth.”