Dance in the Dark (42 page)

"How many are there?" Johnnie asked.

Bergrin looked sheepish. "I'm not sure, to be honest. I rarely go beyond all the usual ones that any book will list. My mom says that's a good thing. Even now, she prefers to be with me when I visit certain ones. 'Only twenty-nine' she says, is far too young for most of the 'darker planes'.

"Twenty-nine?" Johnnie said. "You are three years older than me?"

Bergrin smirked.

"Oh, shut up," Johnnie said, and turned away, leading the way back to the ballroom.

When they got there, however, it was empty—completely empty. Turning, Johnnie left the ballroom and headed to Ontoniel's study.

Rather than his desk, Ontoniel sat in a chair situated by the massive bay windows and the bookshelves, sipping a glass of blood wine and reading a book.  One of his books, Johnnie realized. "That is the Sleeping Beauty study," he said.

"Yes," Ontoniel said, closing the book and setting it aside. "I did not think you would mind my borrowing it."

"Of course not," Johnnie said.

Ontoniel asked, "Did you find the mirror?"

"Yes, such as it is—merely a subjective mirror."

Ontoniel took the compact as Johnnie held it out, looking unsurprised, sad, and cynical. "After six hundred years, it is hard for anything to surprise me, but I am amazed at what people will do for things that will never exist." He opened the mirror and looked at it, then closed it again. "Let us finish this, so the others may finally wake up."

"Did you move them?" Johnnie asked.

"Yes," Ontoniel said. "My magic is minimal, but enough for that. I could not bear to leave them all on that hard flooring."

Johnnie nodded, then took the mirror back as Ontoniel held it out, and slipped it back into his pocket. He reached into another pocket and pulled out the business card Ekaterina had given him. He turned it over and over in his hands, pondering. "She will never let any of us live. She cannot afford to do so."

"It does not matter," Bergrin said. "Once I find her, I can kill her before she even knows I'm there. I do not think it will be difficult to pick up her trail. Hell, we could avoid calling her and try to find her my way. We have more than a day left—nearly forty hours."

"No," Johnnie said. "She has something more up her sleeve, I just know it. You did not see her, after she cursed everyone and forced me to do this. She hates me—hates all of us. She is very devious. Look at how long she has waited to get what she wanted."

"Call her," Ontoniel said. "So we at least know the next step, and can plan our next move."

Johnnie nodded, grimacing, and took out his phone. He punched in the number on the card, then waited while it rang.

Ekaterina picked up on the fourth ring. "Dear Johnnie, never say you have my magic mirror already?"

"Yes," Johnnie said. "Free them from the curse."

"Not until I have the mirror."

"Then come and get it," Johnnie replied, voice flat.

Ekaterina laughed. "Dear Johnnie, I am not so stupid as that. You will bring me the mirror to me at your childhood home. You will come alone. No tricks."

"Fine," Johnnie said.

"You have two hours to be here."

"Fine," Johnnie repeated.

"Oh, and Johnnie—"

Johnnie said nothing, merely waited.

Ekaterina's voice was sweet—as sweet as only poison could be. "If you, or anyone else, is thinking of killing me, it may behoove you to know that all those sleeping beauties will die with me. Ta."

Johnnie closed his phone, then threw it across the room, uncaring as it shattered against the heavy oak study door. "If we kill her," he said in clipped tones, "the others will die with her. I am to go and meet her—alone—in two hours."

"Damn it," Bergrin said. "That is why so much black energy is mixed into the spell key. I thought it was only because the Sleeping Beauty curse is so often fatal."

Ontoniel frowned. "Energies? But you are no demon—how can you see energies?"

Johnnie hastily said, "Later, Father. How are we going to save everyone, then? We cannot tamper with the spell, and we cannot kill her."

"We'll have to save them all the same way we saved your father," Bergrin said. "There's no other way. Freeing them from the inside out is the only way it will work."

"But—that is almost thirty people," Johnnie said. "We will never find them all in two hours, and really it is less than that now."

"You won't be looking for them," Bergrin said. "In a case like this, I can do it faster without you."

Johnnie nodded reluctantly. "But that is still a lot of people for one person, even you, to find in less than two hours."

Bergrin tugged at his cap, smiling faintly beneath the brim. "I'll get my mom to help."

"Speaking of secrets and keeping them from those who need to know," Ontoniel commented dryly from his chair, "why do I seem to be the only one getting yelled at for it?"

"Uh—" Johnnie winced, abashed. "I think perhaps we need to talk later, Father."

Ontoniel snorted in amusement. "Indeed. I am going to check on everyone. Johnnie, do not leave without telling me.  Bergrin, good luck." Standing, nodding to them, Ontoniel left.

Johnnie rounded on Bergrin. "You cannot possibly find twenty-eight people in two hours! Less than that! Grim—"

"I really hate that name," Bergrin said, "but not when you say it."

"Stop trying to distract me," Johnnie snapped.

Bergin made a face. "Sorry, wasn't trying to. My mom is loads better at this than I am. I'm twenty-nine, she's like, a trillion years old. Don't tell her I said that. Two hours is a good start. If you can buy us another one, three should be plenty of time for us to get the job done."

Johnnie nodded, suddenly feeling scared again; he had not felt afraid, he realized, since Bergrin had returned.

"Don't look so unhappy, Highness," Bergrin said, and closed the space between them, pulling Johnnie into his arms. "Just look haughty and arrogant; it drives me crazy when you act that way, like you really are some Prince. I want to shake you senseless and fuck you senseless all at once."

"I seem to recall you doing both," Johnnie replied.

Bergrin smiled. "Mmm, and both were fun, though I have a strong preference for the second option." He leaned down and fit his mouth to Johnnie's, cutting off any reply.

Johnnie had no problem with that; he liked kissing Bergrin, and liked even more that Bergrin wanted to kiss him. He really wished the nightmare would end, so he would have the opportunity to finally see and know his lover, enjoy that they were no longer lovers only in the dark.

He wrapped his arms around Bergrin's neck and kissed him until there was no room for fear, for thought, for anything but Bergrin. He absolutely hated it when they finally had to part. Johnnie swallowed. "Be careful."

Bergrin laughed. "Sweetheart, I'm not the one going into danger.
You
need to be careful, even though I know all too well that being careful is not in your nature. Just try to behave until I can come for you."

"I will be fine," Johnnie said. "Just—just hurry. And—and I love you." Three stupid words had never been so fucking hard to say, but the last time he had said them, he had been furious and had spoken them in the past tense.

The surprise and delight in Bergrin's face almost hurt, it was so genuine and just—just plain
happy
, Johnnie realized. He could not understand why
he
was the one putting that look on Bergrin's face, but he would be damned if he ever let anyone else do it.

Bergrin kissed him again, long and slow and sweet. "I love you too, Johnnie."

"Good," Johnnie said quietly. "Then you are not allowed to do anything stupid, and you had better come for me as soon as possible."

Bergrin gave him a look. "
I'm
not allowed to do anything stupid? We just had this discussion—you are the one who needs a bodyguard, Highness."

"Oh, really?" Johnnie countered. "What sort of grim reaper allows his ass to get kicked by one measly dragon?"

"I am not a
reaper
," Bergrin said, almost sounding petulant.

Smothering a laugh, Johnnie replied, "My mistake. What sort of grim
shepherd
allows his ass to get kicked by one measly dragon?"

"That dragon did not kick my ass," Bergrin said hotly. "It got in
one
hit before
I
killed
it.
And the second one never laid so much as a claw on me. You are nothing but an ungrateful little brat."

"I remember the one hit," Johnnie said, smoothly ignoring the brat comment. "I woke up on your father's couch, and tried not to get caught staring when you walked in the room half-naked shortly thereafter."

Bergrin opened his mouth, then closed it again, then finally said, "You, uh—I never thought you noticed anything about me. Until, you know, too late."

Johnnie thought of that moment, when he
had
finally started noticing—and appreciating—Bergrin. The very bare, very broad, very well-muscled chest. "Believe me, I noticed."

Bergrin grinned.

"We also fell asleep on the couch together," Johnnie recalled. "I must have realized, on some level, that you were Eros—but my subconscious was not sharing the news with my conscious."

"We did?" Bergrin asked.

Johnnie glared at him.

"I sort of remember dozing off, but then all I remember is my father beating me awake. I figured you'd gone off to sleep or read or something. No wonder Pop pegged me so fast," Bergrin said. "I never bring people home, for any reason, and I definitely never dozed off with anyone on the couch."

"Acceptable explanation," Johnnie declared, then said reluctantly, "I guess you should get going."

Bergrin grabbed him, dragged him close, and kissed him so hard that Johnnie's lips bruised. "Be careful, Highness. I have plans for you later."

"Be quick," Johnnie said. "I bet we have the same plans."

Laughing, stealing one last quick kiss, Bergrin smiled and then was gone. Johnnie stood in the study, tired of learning new meanings of the word 'alone.' Life, he decided, really had been easier, simpler—safer—before he had met Bergrin.

But it had not been as bright.

Sighing, he tried to stop thinking about Bergrin and focus on his own problems. Bergrin knew what he was doing. Johnnie had not a single clue as to what he would be facing when he went to meet Ekaterina, or how he would stall her for at least an hour.

Leaving the study, he went to go find his father. He did not even have to think about it, but went straight to Elam's bedroom.  He had only been in Elam's room a small handful of times, and usually at Ontoniel's request, to fetch Elam for one reason or another.

Ontoniel had pulled an armchair alongside the bed, legs stretched out in front of him, hands tangled together, elbows braced on the armrests.  On the bed, Elam and Rita lay side by side; if he had not known for a fact they were merely asleep …

Johnnie looked away, and contemplated Ontoniel instead, not certain what to say.

"They are a beautiful couple," Ontoniel said quietly, "and obviously well suited. It is my fault entirely that he would not come to me about her."

"I do not see why," Johnnie said with a frown. "It is not like you would have ever said no."

Ontoniel laughed, sounding rueful and tired. "Because twenty or so years ago I would have been highly displeased. Fifty years ago I would have told him no. We will not go back further than that." He sighed, and stared at Elam and Rita. "Six hundred years is a very long time. The world as I knew it when I was born no longer exists. You cannot fathom what has been lost, what has been gained. So much has changed, John. There are no extensive histories written by abnormals because precious few of us want to dwell that much on the past. In small ways, in many traditions, yes. But the overall picture, we prefer to let be swallowed by time. Elam was born one hundred and six years ago. Shortly after his birth, Sariah began to show the barest signs of the blood craze.  She would not be seriously struck with it for another fifty years. She always thought she hid it from me, in those early days." He fell silent a moment. "She was afraid I would turn on her, lock her up or kill her. A couple hundred years ago, it would have been the safest thing to do. Back when we first got married, three hundred years ago, it would have been expected of me."

"But you loved Sariah," Johnnie said. "You never would have killed her, or locked her up—and a lot of them still do that, but it is stupid to think you would act like them."

Ontoniel's mouth twisted. "It was the first reason they started to call me radical.  I did not care, but with Sariah's fate sealed, I was overprotective and harsh in regards to Elam. I eased up eventually, but too late, it seems."

"I disagree," Johnnie said. "He was going to speak to you.  He had finally reached a point where he thought he could. The love spell was the only thing that stopped him."