Night's Templar: A Vampire Queen Novel (Vampire Queen Series Book 13) (24 page)

Uthe imagined the sorceress standing toe-to-toe with a member of the heavenly host and making her point. It reminded him of Haris, the way the female Assassin had fought him that first time, so fearlessly. “I should have liked to see an angel, Shahnaz. Was he magnificent?”

“He was.” A wistful look crossed her features. “He touched my face, and I felt beautiful. He told me if I let go of my anger, the scars would be only on my face, not my soul. As he departed, I saw several others with him. One of them winked at me, playful as a rogue, and then they were gone, following him back into the clouds.”

U
the came back
to the present and the silk clad body at his feet. If the angel had destroyed the demon, what would Uthe’s life have been? Possibly not much different from now, since he’d spent most of the past centuries waiting on the sorceresses to find the solution while he became involved in the politics and future of vampires. At first he’d steered clear of those things, thinking this might pull him away from the vampire world without notice, but he’d learned it made more sense to live his life fully.

In a heartbeat, anything could end life as one knew it. Anticipating that was no way to make the most of the life the Lord had given him. His mission had not stopped him from joining his brethren at the tragedy of Hattin, and it was who he’d met as a result of that bloodbath that had given Shahnaz access to the Shattered World. There was no telling where life would take a man, but he had to live it to follow the path God gave him.

After dislodging enough rock to form a proper covering over Fatima, he knelt and said the necessary prayers for her soul and his grief. Rising, he placed a hand on one of the rocks.

“It won’t be in vain,” he promised her. “Unless my brain has gotten too stupid to figure out the clues you left me.” Wouldn’t that be a sad irony? Almost laughable, if he felt like laughing. Instead, he found himself wishing for Keldwyn’s company. Good or bad, the male’s presence steadied him, though he had no idea what the Fae was thinking after he’d made such a raw declaration about his feelings. But honesty was all he had now, and his only demand was for Keldwyn to give him the same. It was not the first time Uthe might have to accept painful truths, but he preferred them to sugar-coated lies.

Enough of that. He had more important things to address, a puzzle to solve. He headed back toward the main chamber where a ceiling full of ciphers awaited. It had taken generations of sorceresses nine hundred years to find the solution for sending a demon back to Hell. Hopefully, it would not take him that long to translate it from Fatima’s walls.

W
hen Uthe returned
to the main chamber, Keldwyn didn’t ask him further questions. The vampire looked somber from laying the sorceress to rest, so Kel let him begin his study of the ceiling and walls, and his examination of Fatima’s books and notebooks, while Kel stood watch at the cave opening. He would go hunting once he sensed other demon pawns drawing closer. Until then, he refused to go so far out of range that he couldn’t return to Uthe’s side in a matter of moments.

While Keldwyn had been frustrated by Uthe’s secretiveness, he knew Uthe was very much like himself. Dire consequences could result from a loose tongue: lives lost, secrets jeopardized. Withholding information was driven by those concerns, not a covetous need to keep everything to oneself, or an inability to extend trust when needed. Well, not entirely. Keldwyn was still reviewing Uthe’s harsh words in his mind. On each replay, they roused a different reaction in him.

Uthe was an intellectually gifted male, one who rarely let himself act without thought. Though he’d frequently noted the fit hardness of Uthe’s body, the battle readiness of it, Keldwyn had rarely seen the male use those assets. As a result, Keldwyn had begun to think of him more as a bookish scholar, a Machiavellian strategist, than a vampire ready to combat violence in any situation. The day he’d watched him spar with Daegan, he’d been mesmerized, as if he’d seen a harmless garden snake sleeping in the sun suddenly morph into a striking asp.

When they’d fought their way into the cave, Uthe’s measured and thoughtful consideration to every matter of import had been replaced by quick, brutal decisiveness.

“Thus in an astounding and unique manner they appear gentler than lambs yet fiercer than lions.” Keldwyn had read the three texts Uthe kept by his bed: St. Bernard’s “In Praise of the New Knighthood,”
The Rule of the Templars
and that anonymous letter addressed to the order around 1130. The quote came from St. Bernard’s text, and Keldwyn had found it astounding in truth, the way Uthe unleashed an inner savagery for battle.

Now—that deadly warrior side put away—Uthe leaned forward, tracing one of those hundreds of symbols climbing up the walls. The motion made the tunic pull across his shoulders and buttocks. Uthe stretched upward as he followed a line of text with his fingertips along the arch of wall to ceiling. His dark brown eyes were flickering, his mouth moving silently, talking to himself.

Keldwyn’s first direct exposure to vampires had been through Lyssa’s father, Reghan. Keldwyn had been confounded by his best friend’s inconceivable love for a female of the fanged species. He’d brutally rejected the idea, trying in every way to dissuade him. It was incomprehensible, that a Fae could truly love a creature so inferior to himself. Beyond race, there was class. Even among the high Fae, Lyssa’s father was a cut far above, linked by blood to both the Unseelie and Seelie royal families.

Keldwyn had been several hundred years old then. He hadn’t recognized his opposition to Reghan’s relationship with a vampire was fueled by more than his fear of what would happen to Reghan if he pursued it. He had reacted to his own hurt at being rejected. Yes—trite as the saying was—love was indeed blind.

Until his death, Reghan had counted Keldwyn his closest and best friend. Never had one word had the potential to hurt so much, but Kel eventually understood the value and honor of being the male’s friend. He hoped he’d honored what it had meant in his actions ever since, not only in doing his best to protect both of Reghan’s daughters in the face of often violent politics, but in finally getting over his heartbreak enough to bring the two races closer together. It had taken him a few hundred years to give it his full energy, but the Fae were known to hold a grudge.

In his defense, during that time, he’d experienced vampires who were nowhere near as commendable members of their species as Uthe and Lyssa. More than once, he’d decided his initial impression of them as creatures limited in intelligence due to the inescapable hold of blood lust and an inability to overcome their predator instincts was correct, the exception far less common than the rule. But then he’d seen the formation of the Council. He’d watched while Lyssa and others like her had determined—since their nature could not be suppressed or changed—to guide and channel it with such concepts as the vampire-servant bond, and Council rules governing basic behavior to protect vampires from general human awareness of their existence.

Lyssa was half-Fae, though. He’d ultimately expected such sensible behavior from her. It was Uthe who’d taken Keldwyn’s impression of full blooded vampires from benign disfavor and tolerance into a belief they could be something…more.

Lord Varick Uthe. Varick was a good name for him, far better than Uthe. Keldwyn’s lips twisted. Perhaps it was no different from long ago. Then he’d used his belief in the inferiority of vampires to mask his resentment that Lyssa’s father had chosen one over him. Now he used his revised opinion of their intelligence to avoid the truth. One particular vampire had caught his attention for far more personal reasons.

It had made sense to cultivate a good relationship with the right hand of the Council, but that had not included weekly chess matches, strolls through the gardens debating history, social inequity, or trading stories accumulated from their combined years and travels. After seeing Uthe spar with Daegan, Keldwyn would have added practice combat to their regular interactions, but this task had interfered with that pleasurable prospect.

Kel, you have become entangled with a vampire yourself. Wherever Reghan is, he is laughing at you.
All the more because Reghan had set that situation up himself. What would Uthe think when Kel finally revealed that?

Before he was to be executed, Reghan had called Keldwyn to him. He remembered every word his friend had spoken to him, his facial expressions, the press of his strong hand, as vividly as if it had happened a moment ago. But the words that had meant the least to Keldwyn were what had resounded in his head the first time Lyssa had introduced him to her Council. “This is Lord Uthe, my right hand advisor on Council. Once upon a time, he was a Templar Knight, so he tends to be more honorable than the rest of us…”

Kel, there may come a time when a Templar Knight will make himself known to you. Help him however he needs help, for his cause is just and vital…

He’d assumed the plea was moot when the Templars were disbanded in the 1300s. Still, his curiosity about a vampire who had been a Templar had drawn him, whether or not it connected to Reghan’s final words. And curiosity had become something more.

Despite his occupied thoughts, Kel continued to change vantage points at the cave point, watching for trouble. Still nothing. He glanced over his shoulder, checking on Uthe. Vampire males were handsome, but the wisdom and character in Uthe’s dark eyes made him even more appealing to Keldwyn. Though he’d had male lovers who were far prettier, Uthe’s body was a perfect sculpture of smooth muscle, long limbs, tight arse and impressive cock. He was a gift of mind and matter both.

Keldwyn stared back into the night. As he did, he recalled his first awareness of his attraction. Uthe had been waiting on his next chess move. The vampire had laid his head back on his chair, one hand loose on the arm, the other resting on his thigh as he closed his eyes. Keldwyn’s gaze had been drawn to the exposed throat, the set of his mouth in repose, the way his fingers traced the carved arm of the chair without impatience. Kel could take a minute or an hour to decide his move, and Uthe would not demonstrate any urgency, not during leisure time like this.

They had both lived enough years, experienced the necessary trials. Neither of them were susceptible to excess drama. Every matter of significance was given careful consideration from many angles. Decisions were made in a timely but not rushed manner. Nothing was expedited by competition, pride or ego.

“You’re settled in your head,” Catriona, his ward, had once told him. “You understand so much, you don’t even think about most of it anymore. But you don’t really feel it, either, because you’ve felt it so much, you don’t think about it as a new feeling. But every story can be told a different way, and you can fall in love with it all over again.”

Thanks to her twenty years trapped in a tree in the human world, her way of communicating could be garbled like that, but when he was studying Uthe’s face that night, he’d understood what she’d meant, enough to feel startled to the core by the truth of it. When the male’s lips moved, a simple motion to moisten them, and his fingers on the chair moved to rest on his thigh, the muscles in Keldwyn’s own leg bunched. He forgot to concentrate on his chess move. His whole focus was on what Uthe would do next.

At length, the dark eyes opened, a brow rising at Keldwyn’s regard, then his lashes swept down to examine Keldwyn’s move. Seeing he hadn’t made one, he looked up. Keldwyn said nothing, unsure of everything that was in his expression and lacking his usual compulsion to mask it. Uthe closed his eyes and tilted his head back again. “If you’re considering how a mere vampire is beating you at chess, my lord, you will be chewing on that for some time. The only answer is the one you won’t accept. I’m better than you at the game.”

Something scraped against dirt and rock, and Keldwyn instantly returned to the present. Uthe’s head turned like a raptor’s, suggesting he wasn’t as absorbed in his task as he’d indicated he would be.

“I will hail you if I need aid,” Keldwyn said gruffly. “Though if I need it against a few humans, I deserve to be cut down.”

“That may be true. But since I can’t complete my task if you get cut down, avoid sacrificing yourself merely for pride. They may be augmented with more than human abilities. Be careful, my lord. I would not like to see your blood. Not for those reasons.”

Keldwyn stiffened, shooting the vampire a glance. Uthe was staring at those symbols, but Keldwyn noticed his fingers uncurled and recurled at his side, something he did when emotion or arousal was affecting him. When he next spoke, his voice was somewhat thicker. “If you can toss one of them in here alive, I can feed.”

“Kill your enemies and provide you dinner? I will expect sex.”

Uthe chuckled. The way he moistened his lips sent Keldwyn’s thoughts in a dark and pleasurable direction. “You would demand that if you did none of those things.”

“Varick, look at me.”

Hearing the raw command in Kel’s voice, Uthe looked up, surprised. Keldwyn held his gaze. He knew fierceness and honesty was in his expression. He didn’t fear that he would fall before the wrath of a few puny mortals, no matter how demon-enchanted they were. This wasn’t a confession. It was something he simply wanted to say and had decided he wouldn’t wait any longer to do so.

“What you asked me earlier, about motives? You are my only motive for being here, Varick. You can trust me on that.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. There was none he could accept, since the succinct admission made him think he’d lost his mind. A Fae didn’t say things straight out like a school primer. A Fae used clever words to tangle meaning, leaving himself graceful retreats from the truth whenever necessary.

He’d given Uthe honesty, just as Uthe had demanded.

Thank the gods, there was finally enough happening outside the cave to keep him occupied. He detected three more of the Saracen raiders coming up the incline, with several more following behind, reinforcements. He could have handled all of the earlier attacks with magic, but he’d mixed it up with hand-to-hand because Uthe said he’d never seen Keldwyn fight. Apparently, whether fifteen or fifteen-hundred, he wasn’t above wanting to show off for a paramour.

This time, though, he chose expediency and practicality. Suddenly they were pale-faced beneath their swarthy coloring, stumbling into retreat before the dragon they believed had appeared before them. A roar and a blast of heat had them spinning to face its twin. In the resulting confusion, he took them down in quick succession, though he knocked one insensible rather than taking his life. Carting him back up to the cave entrance, he tossed him inside with a quick incantation to keep him from being incinerated, then left Uthe to his meal.

He searched the other bodies for any useful clues about the demon who had sent them, but just as the vampire had indicated, there was nothing. They were merely pawns. As he’d done to the ones in the cave, he disintegrated them with earth magic. A quick perimeter check didn’t result in any other incursions. This had been a test run, and his actions had told them they’d need to send greater numbers next time.

“The quantity will not matter,” he muttered. “You will all die just the same.”

He re-entered the cave. “Your demon did not expect you to have a Fae in your company, or his magical reach didn’t give him that much influence. Else he would have prepared them for the glamor.”

“Hopefully he doesn’t have the energy or reach to do so,” Uthe responded. “I am done with him if you want to handle the body as you did the others.”

Keldwyn had been absent only a few moments, but he saw the unconscious male had two puncture wounds in his neck, tidily sealed so no blood was dripping from them. He also was no longer alive, the dead eyes staring. Uthe was back to studying his wall.

“Kill your enemies, provide you dinner
and
do the dishes,” the Fae grumbled. “You are pushing it. I think you are forgetting who is in charge.”

Uthe’s lips tugged into a smile. “I’m sure you will find an opportunity to remind me of it, my lord.”

“I will. Count on it.”

That intriguing curl and uncurl of his hands again. It made Keldwyn want to take hold of one of them, press the roughened palm to his mouth and bite it, before he drew it behind Uthe’s back, or above his head. The idea of the vampire bound and at his mercy was an intensely pleasurable one, and he embellished the image as he disposed of the other body.

Moving to Uthe’s side, standing behind his left shoulder, Kel studied the symbols with him. Understanding Uthe had a complicated puzzle to solve, he knew he shouldn’t disrupt the other male’s flow of thought, but the vibration coming from Uthe suggested Keldwyn’s compulsion now wasn’t unwelcome. It had been a day full of unpleasantness, after all.