Starlight(Pact Arcanum 4) (3 page)

Rory smiled sadly. “The Great Work never ends.”

Padraic bobbed his head in agreement. “Yes. I’m glad you understand.”

“Sean understands,” said Lorcan. “Your Grace, allow me to introduce my friend Sean Rory Brennigan Magister Jiao-long, called the Redeemer, the Prince of the Dawn, founder of the Armistice.”

The priest’s face grew slack with shock, and his gaze darted to the black leather gloves Rory wore. He quickly recovered. “It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Sean. I hope that my efforts may offer you some small assistance in your work.”

“I wouldn’t characterize it that way, Padraic,” said Rory. “I can only open the door to redemption, but without your preparation, some of them might never find the will to walk through it. In a way, our efforts are complimentary.”

“It pleases me that you think so, Redeemer. The power you wield has been an inspiration to many, even among my human flock.”

Rory tilted his head in confusion. “How does my work impact the humans?”

The priest indicated the armchairs before the fire. “Please sit, and I will explain.”

Rory and Lorcan took their seats, and Padraic settled in across from them. “For millennia, the human race has wondered whether our prayers were heard by anyone other than ourselves. Your story has offered objective proof of that which we have always wished to believe, that the divine exists and is not indifferent. Millions of people took that lesson to heart and came back into the fold after your existence became known. Your touch is a living affirmation of faith.”

Rory sighed. “I’m not any kind of saint, your Grace.”

The priest shrugged. “You have embarked upon a holy task, by your own admission, opening a doorway to redemption to those who would otherwise remain in the clutches of the Adversary. Is that not what a saint is?”

Rory scowled. “I struck the Pact Arcanum for purely selfish reasons. It was simply a means to an end, a way to avoid the consequences of my actions and raise my first victims from the dead.” His words grew more of an edge. “There’s no way you can call that holy.”

Padraic smiled. “And your victims, what became of them?”

“Anaba died fifteen years ago in her sleep, and Takeshi was killed in an accident back in April. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Were they happy?”

That brought Rory up short. “Yes. Ana lived to see her daughter grow up and have children of her own.”

“And the other?”

“I think so,” whispered Rory.

“So they lived full lives that they would otherwise never have had, and their lives touched others. How many lives were changed by your selfish bargain? How many sought out the light once you showed them it was possible?”

Rory looked away, staring into the flames. “Not as many as the light destroyed at my command.” Lorcan squeezed his shoulder in silent support.

Padraic studied Rory’s profile as the vampire refused to meet his eyes. “Prince Ruarc, could you excuse us for a moment?”

Lorcan looked surprised, but he nodded and got to his feet. “I’ll be outside.”

After Lorcan closed the door behind him, Padraic turned back to Rory. “My son, do you have any specific religious beliefs?”

Rory continued to focus his attention on the blazing fire. “I am a
very
lapsed Catholic, your Grace. I hadn’t been to an actual mass in over sixty years, until tonight.”

“And do you have any particular faith in its place?”

That got Rory’s attention, and he turned away from the fire to face the priest. “I haven’t met many priests who acknowledged the distinction.”

“Religion is a social construct, made by man and therefore fallible. Faith is immutable and incorruptible. Too many people believe that following the tenets of their religion makes them righteous.”

“And what do you believe?”

“That without faith, our prayers fall silent, and our good works come to nothing.”

Rory shivered in his seat. “I don’t know if I have any faith left.”

Padraic reached out and took his hands. “And what has taken it from you?”

“I have seen too much.”

Padraic took a deep breath. “My son, I mean no disrespect, but if you wish it, I will hear your confession.”

Rory stared at him. “I haven’t been to confession since I was a teenager.”

“What changed?”

Rory pulled his hands away, and sat a little straighter in his chair, his eyes shading toward red. “I realized that I loved my best friend. His name was Takeshi. I had to choose between him and the Church, and I chose him.”

Padraic gave him a half smile at the show of defiance. “And did he love you as well?”

Rory swallowed against a tide of pain that rose in his throat. “Yes.”

“Then you were blessed.”

Rory’s posture deflated, and the spark of anger he had been nursing went out. He put his head in his hands. “I don’t feel blessed,” he said in a strained voice. “I feel like I’m being punished.”

“What have you done to deserve punishment?”

Rory looked up, his eyes reddened with tears of blood. “I killed him. Takeshi. And Ana. I cut a deal to bring them back, but it doesn’t change what I did. Then I took the gift the higher powers granted me and turned it into a weapon. I killed tens of thousands during the Burning, maybe even hundreds of thousands. I watched their memories as they burned, one after the other.”

“Their memories?”

Rory got to his feet and began to pace. “When I touch someone with my power, I see their lives, everything they have ever done. Even now, I can’t think about that day without remembering all the terrible things they did over the centuries. For the longest time, I thought they deserved it.”

Padraic watched him from his chair. “Do you feel differently now?”

“They were alive. I killed them. No one deserves that.”

“You said your friend Takeshi died recently.”

Rory froze and said nothing.

“Did he deserve it?”

“No,” whispered Rory.

“Do you deserve the blame for his death?”

Rory was silent for a long moment before answering. “Maybe.”

“Did you strike him down, like you did the others?”

“I put him in a position to get killed.”

“Deliberately?”

“No.”

“Then is it fair to say that this death was simply his time, and no fault of yours?”

Rory struggled to answer convincingly. “I don’t know.”

Padraic sighed and got to his feet. “My son, I think your lover’s death was one that should not be on your conscience.” He smiled sadly. “As for the others, when you struck down your enemies, you served a heavy penance for your actions by accepting the burden of their sins. Perhaps it is time to set them aside?” He raised his hand and sketched a cross in the air. “I forgive you.”

* * *

Lorcan pushed away from the wall when Rory came through the door to the rectory. “Everything all right?”

Rory nodded in silence.

Padraic came to the door as well. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Redeemer. If you pass this way again, feel free to stop in.”

Rory pulled himself together and faced the priest. “Thank you, Padraic. I might just take you up on that.”

Padraic inclined his head and turned to Lorcan. “Merry Christmas, Prince Ruarc. I look forward to seeing you on Sunday.” Then he stepped back and closed the door.

Lorcan faced Rory. “You look like you just ran a marathon.”

Rory gave him a weak smile. “Maybe it was worth it.”

Lorcan waited for a moment. “You’re not going to explain that, are you?”

“Nope.”

Lorcan laughed. “Come on, let’s go home.”

C
HAPTER 3

December 2082, House Daviroquir Stronghold, London, England

 “Rory, you don’t have to come if you’re not ready.” Lorcan looked at Rory sidelong. “William is my chief vassal. I have to attend, or it will be perceived as a public rebuke.”

Rory took a deep breath and let it out. “I can’t hide forever.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Let’s just get it over with.”

“All right.” Lorcan turned back to the mirror and made sure his tuxedo jacket was straight, and the signet brooch was centered on his lapel so that the seal of House Diluthical showed prominently, surrounded by a serpent biting its tail. “Time to go.”

Rory stood from his chair, the gold and silver thread shining brightly from the embroidered seal of House Jiao-long on the breast pocket of his tuxedo. He held out the crook of his arm to Lorcan.

Lorcan raised an eyebrow, but smiled as he linked his arm with Rory’s. The two of them walked from the guest quarters to the elevator and descended to the level of ballroom. The doors opened, and they stepped into the wide open space, which stretched the entire length of this level of the skyscraper. The crowd was packed, but the other celebrants stepped back before the two of them. Rory and Lorcan made their way to the high table at one end of the hall and sought out their host.

William Magister Daviroquir Primogenitor Diluthical turned away from the other Court of Shadows dignitaries to greet them. He went down on one knee before Lorcan. “Master, my life is yours. I am your blade to wield.”

Lorcan slipped his arm free of Rory’s to step forward. “I accept your honor, to defend as if it were my own. Rise.”

William got to his feet and smiled. “Thank you for coming, Imperator.” He turned to Rory. “Prince Sean, it is an honor to meet you once again.”

Rory inclined his head. “Prince William. It’s been a long time.”

“I was surprised when my security staff informed me of your arrival. I did not hold much hope that you would accept my invitation.”

“It was a last minute decision.”

“I would have understood if you had declined, given your loss.” William sighed. “Takeshi Nakamura was an exceptional man, and I was proud to have fought beside him at Manchester. Please accept my regrets for his passing.”

Rory nodded stiffly. “Thank you for the sentiment.”

William picked up on his discomfort and turned back to Lorcan. “My lord, may I introduce you to a few of my business partners?”

Lorcan frowned. “You mean your allies at Court?”

William smiled. “No, my lord. I am referring to my daylight contacts. House Daviroquir has extensive commercial dealings with the human and Armistice communities, since we remain one of the only Daywalker Houses. I have found trade to be a very effective method of building bridges and influence.”

Lorcan looked intrigued. Then he glanced back at Rory with a flash of guilt. “Perhaps another time, William.”

Rory waved his hand in dismissal. “No, go ahead. You’ve been ignoring your Court duties long enough because of me. I’ll be fine.”

Lorcan looked dubious, but he allowed William to steer him toward the other guests.

Rory walked to the refreshment table, and poured himself a glass of Cerberus. It was a relatively new form of bloodwine, made from a blend of human, Sentinel, and Daywalker donors. The combination was synergistic, requiring even less actual blood in the liquor, so that the supply of freely offered blood could be stretched even farther as more vampires accepted the strictures of the Armistice Declaration. Rory found it to be a pleasant alternative to the more potent Sentinel bloodwine, Tiamat.

“Rory.”

Rory turned to view the familiar face. “Hello, Nick.”

Nick examined him critically. “You look better than the last time I saw you.”

Rory reddened. “I wasn’t at my best.”

“You slammed the door in my face.”

“I’m sorry. I know you were just concerned.”

Nick took a sip of his drink instead of answering, watching Rory over the lip of his glass. “You looked pretty happy on Ruarc’s arm.”

Rory blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“I wouldn’t have believed it, given how far down you were back in September, but spending time with Ruarc seems to have lifted your spirits.”

Rory began to get angry. “He’s a good friend. What are you really asking?”

“Is there something between you two?”

“No, of course not!” Rory’s eyes shifted to red, and he hissed in rage. “Ruarc has helped me through the worst time of my life. That’s it. There’s nothing between us, and I resent your implication—”

“Is that why?”

Rory lost his train of thought. “Why what?”

“Why you would accept his help and not mine? Because there’s nothing between you.”

Rory stared at him, thunderstruck.

Nick wrapped his free hand around the back of Rory’s neck with the ease of long familiarity and drew him closer. “If what we have together keeps you from letting me support you, then I’m glad you found your way to him. I love you both. There’s no one else I would trust to hold your heart until it heals.”

“Oh, Nicholas,” whispered Rory, resting his forehead against Nick’s. “We’re just friends. Honestly. He’s been there for me when there was no one else.”

“There was me. But you didn’t want me.”

“I can’t—”

“I know. But someday, when you’re ready for us to be friends again, I’ll be waiting.” Nick let go of Rory and stepped back. “Take care of yourself, Rory.”

“You too, Nick.”

Nick turned away and disappeared in the crowd.

“What did he say?”

Rory jerked his head around to see Lorcan standing next to him, his irises red and an expression of pure fury on his face. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

Lorcan snarled. “Then why are you crying?”

Rory wiped at his eyes. “Ruarc, let it go.”

“I will not. Where does he get off? After everything you’ve been through—”

“He wanted to say goodbye.”

Lorcan’s eyes shifted back to green in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“He knew. I pushed him away because I didn’t want my feelings for Take to be tainted by my feelings for him. He offered to stay away until I was ready to be around him.”

Lorcan chewed on that for a moment. “Fine. It’s almost midnight. Let’s go somewhere else right after, just the two of us.”

Rory nodded, feeling the press of crowd all around them. “Can we at least get some privacy here?”

Lorcan took his hand and led him back to the elevator. The doors closed behind them, and Lorcan pressed the button for the helipad on the roof. A minute later, the doors reopened, and they stepped into a deserted lounge with glass walls.