Starlight(Pact Arcanum 4) (10 page)

Jeremy ran a finger down Nick’s naked chest and smiled. “Happy anniversary.”

Nick laid a line of light kisses along the curve of his husband’s neck. “I’m sorry the rotation came up now. This whole lunar calendar tradition is such a pain.”

Jeremy lifted Nick’s chin and kissed him on the lips. “Why don’t you make it up to me?”

Nick growled softly, and said nothing more as he pulled Jeremy to him.

* * *

Much later, Nick lay on his side with one arm wrapped around Jeremy. He whispered in his lover’s ear. “Are you going to tell me what you’re after?”

Jeremy turned his head drowsily to face Nick, his eyes half closed. “What do you mean?”

Nick snuggled closer and laid his head in the crook of Jeremy’s neck. “Come on, Leshir. You’re usually so shy. You always play hard-to-get unless you want something.”

Jeremy made a rude noise, halfway between a snort and a laugh. “So, I’m trading sexual favors for special consideration? Is that supposed to be flattering?”

Nick chuckled softly. “If the shoe fits…”

“Don’t be smug, Nicholas.”

“So what is it?”

“If you knew I wanted something, then we could have discussed it earlier.”

“But then I wouldn’t have gotten what
I
wanted.”

Jeremy laughed. “Nick, you’re an incorrigible sex maniac.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

Jeremy pulled away and rolled over to face Nick. “I did want something. I want you to consider moving here permanently.”

Nick’s jaw dropped. “I beg your pardon?”

Jeremy pressed on. “You’d have to commute while you serve as Archangel, but I think this should be home, not one of the Hidden Cities.”

Nick closed his mouth. “I presume you have a reason?”

“Did you know they converted one of the old barracks into a school?”

Nick’s frown deepened. “Vaguely. There was something about it in one of the progress reports, but I didn’t read it in depth.”

“And every night, they set up an open-air market in the courtyard, in addition to a flourishing barter economy. What do you think of that?”

“I think you’ve been reviewing my reports more thoroughly than I have.”

Jeremy slipped out of bed. Nick watched as he paced. “The point is, you’ve got refugees of all ages and walks of life, some with centuries of experience, just sitting here marking time. Why don’t you do something with them, rather than letting those resources waste away?”

Nick sat up in bed, regarding him thoughtfully. “It sounds like you have something in mind already.”

Turning on his heel, Jeremy faced him. “I think you have all the elements here for a new Hidden City.”

Damn, he’s serious.
“Leshir, these are refugees, not colonists. They’re looking for a new life in the Armistice, not an endless pit stop.”

Jeremy climbed back onto the bed, crawling closer to face Nick eye-to-eye. “And the ones who want to go can continue on. But you’ve said it yourself; the castle is large enough to house an army. Why not a real community? We have people with all sorts of skills here, just looking for a way to escape the war. They’d be happy to stop running and stay here if we just offered them some protection and stability.”

Nick shook his head. “Jer, building a community is a full-time job. The Hidden Cities were constructed under accelerated time, but the Triumvirate’s biggest challenge came when they had to create the infrastructure to operate them. It only worked because Layla had experience at manufacturing entire civilizations from scratch, and still had a cadre of followers who had the same skills.”

“But now, after the cities were built, we have an even larger pool of personnel with modern skills in that area, don’t we? The people who were involved in creating the Hidden Cities might welcome the challenge of doing it again.”

Nick nodded grudgingly. “They might. It would still need a point person. Someone to fit the pieces together. I don’t have time for a project of that magnitude.”

Jeremy smiled. “But I do.”

NOW: April 2142; Sanctuary, French Alps

Nick watched the Nightwalkers packing up their goods as the sky began to lighten, to be immediately replaced by the Daywalkers and Sentinels who were just arriving. The market ran continuously, the better to serve the needs of the entire population.
They never knew him. Never knew how much he sacrificed for them to have a real chance at a normal life here.
Nick had been dubious at first, but Jeremy had thrown himself into the project with single-minded passion, brokering the relationships between the metahuman factions into a cohesive whole.

The Air Sentinel had led the new city of Sanctuary for almost the rest of his natural life, only giving up his dream into Nick’s keeping as his strength began to fail. Nick had retired from leadership of the Armistice government to rule the city after Jeremy’s death in 2094.

It had taken a decade of carefully understated seduction on the part of Rory and Lorcan for him to step back from his exacting administration of the fortress, finally recognizing the depth of his grief in his dedication to this tribute to his fallen lover. He still set overall policy in the city government, but he had delegated more and more of the daily management in subsequent decades to his trusted lieutenants, recruited to House Luscian from the ranks of those who had come to this place in search of a better life, mortal and immortal alike.

Nick started when he felt a light touch on his wrist, turning to face Layla. “Sorry, what?”

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?” She seemed more amused than annoyed.

Nick felt his cheeks redden. “I apologize, Layla. I’m just a little distracted today.”

She shrugged, stepping forward to look down into the bustling courtyard. “That’s understandable. It’s your anniversary, after all.”

“No, that’s in December,” answered Nick automatically. Then he flushed deeper as he realized what he’d said. “What I mean is—”

She cut him off with a harsh glare. “Nick, I admire your faithfulness to your first husband. Really I do. But you have two wonderful men in your life who love you more than anything else in the world. When are you going to accept that they deserve to be first in your heart?”

Nick looked away. “They were mated for a quarter century before they invited me to join their union. They just formalized our bond on their anniversary so we would all be equals. It’s still more their day than mine.”

She sighed, shaking her head ruefully. “Nicholas, you may be a gifted strategist and administrator, but sometimes you're so stupid you make me want to strangle you.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time you ask me for advice.”

She covered his hand on the stone wall with hers. “They were just biding their time until you came far enough out of your shell to accept them after Jeremy died. Are you really so blind and insecure that you can’t understand that you were the gold ring to them, not the brass?”

Nick swallowed thickly and stared out over the tiered rooftops of his city. “I guess I’m scared.”

She frowned at the hesitation in his voice. “Scared of what?” Her voice was gentle.

Nick took a deep breath and let it out. “Everyone I have ever loved has grown old and died. It left me hollow inside. Sanctuary was all I had, and for a while, it was enough, until the two of them began to fill the emptiness. Rory and Ruarc were there for me every step of the way, holding me up against the grief. Looking back now, I realize they’d planned it that way all along. I know how hard it must have been for them to wait for me to be ready to open my heart again.

“It’s…humbling to know that they thought I was worth it, even that far back. How can I possibly live up to their expectations? What if they lose interest in me? I don’t think I could go on living if I lost either of them.”

He felt her silently studying him as he tried to keep his voice level. Then he faced the sunrise, gripping the stone of the battlements tightly against his rising panic.
I shouldn’t have burdened her with my doubts.

She turned his head to face her. “Of course you’d go on,” she said. “Nothing lasts forever, no matter how much we wish it would. But I have watched you commit yourself to this community for decades. You gave them back faith in themselves, after they fled the people they were before. You lifted them back onto their feet for the sake of Jeremy’s dream. If you could do that for him, then why can’t you find the strength for your own sake just to accept that they love you, and see where it leads?”

Nick chuckled. “You must think I’m a complete idiot.”

She patted his hand in sympathy. “It’s okay to have regrets. Just don’t let them cripple your spirit. Now get out of here and go enjoy your anniversary.”

April 2142; House Daviroquir stronghold, London, England

William frowned at the coded message on the virtual screen in front of him before it automatically erased itself. He appreciated the need for security, but there were times when his alliance with the other Daywalker Houses tried his patience. It had taken twelve hundred years of intrigue and murder to work his way up to Consul rank, and his conversion by the Grace had not touched the core elements of his personal desire to triumph over his enemies. The only difference was that now, as Magister Daviroquir, he was part of a larger strategic alliance dedicated to a single goal: the redemption of the Children of Darkness.

A century of effort to promote the Great Work, and less than a dozen houses have joined us.
William contemplated the sunset through the uncovered penthouse windows of the skyscraper. The fading light painted the glass and steel furniture of his ultra-modern office a bloody shade of scarlet.
Perhaps I was wrong, and we should have chosen conquest over subterfuge.
He smiled as he recalled the encrypted summons he had received.
There’ll be time enough for slaughter. It’s only a matter of time before the other houses get over their mutual distrust enough to present a united front against us. Then we’ll see bloodshed aplenty.

He locked down his computer system, then stood and made his way to the teleport gateway. The Court’s teleport network was relatively rudimentary compared to that of the Armistice, due to the Nightwalkers’ distrust of the AI software required to manage a more advanced system, but travel to and from the Council Chamber Complex was easily managed for all of the Greater Houses. Standing in the center of the spellform inlay on the floor, he closed his eyes and generated the proper energy pattern to unlock the gate, then jumped to the master gateway in Alexandria.

He arrived in an underground courtyard, and breathed deeply of the perfume of incense and flowering plants kept lush by magic. Then his eyes snapped open as he heard a single heartbeat waiting for him.

The Night’s Herald watched him impassively from a few feet away. “Good evening, Prince William.”

He nodded brusquely to her. “Herald.” Idly, he noted that she had cropped her hair short, and allowed it to return to its normal shade of brown. It gave her an air of severity that mirrored the plain-hilted sword belted at her waist. He stepped to the side, exiting the gateway while keeping her carefully in sight. “Don’t let me keep you, if you need to use the gate.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a pressing errand?”

William frowned.
Is she fishing for information, or does she already know?
It was impossible to determine how deeply her spy network ran. Despite access to Armistice AI security programs, he remained paranoid that her near-AI constructs could have penetrated his computer systems.
No, that way lies madness. She is only one woman, albeit the mistress of a shadowy host of agents. She is not omniscient. She only wishes me to doubt myself.
He stood straighter. “I have been called to a meeting with my Magister. If you will excuse me, I must be going.”

“Ah, yes, your Magister. I am shocked that you still bend your knee to a man less than half your age. Surely that must rankle.”

William’s eyes shaded to red. “The terms of the Challenge of Kings are clear. Are you questioning my honor?”

She shrugged. “You owed House Diluthical a century of service. In two months, that debt will be paid. What then? Do you intend to maintain your alliance, and yoke your house to Lorcan’s will?”

William scowled as he bared his fangs. “What do you want, Razheel? Speak plainly.”

She hissed, her eyes shifting to show her anger. “Do not address me by that name. I am the Night’s Herald. I have no other identity.”

William snorted. “An official fiction, to be sure. You remain Tribunus Talizered in your heart, and your favoritism toward your former house renders you unfit to carry the banner of the Court.”

She stood stiffly at attention, her left hand moving unconsciously to grasp the grip of her sword. “I am a servant of the Court, and no other. If you question my loyalty, then raise your objection before the Court, Magister Daviroquir. I will be happy to answer your charges in the dueling circle.”

William growled in a low rumble. “You are not worthy of my blade,
servant.
” Then he turned his back and walked deliberately away.

C
HAPTER 15

April 2142; Court of Shadows Council Chamber Complex, House Diluthical Embassy, Alexandria, Egypt

Lorcan checked his computer again for messages, then frowned at the grandfather clock in the corner of his office.
Where the hell is William?

One of his consuls knocked lightly at his door before opening it to allow William to enter.

The Magister Daviroquir knelt before him. “Master, my life is yours. I am your blade to wield.”

“I accept your honor, to defend as if it were my own. Rise, William, and tell me why you’re late.”

William got to his feet then sat casually in a leather armchair. “I was intercepted by the Night’s Herald.”

Lorcan’s annoyance evaporated. “For what reason?”

William smiled. “She wished to determine my plans once I am released from my allegiance to you.”