Sunset: Pact Arcanum: Book One (35 page)

“How did I get to be so lucky, finding you?” Nick laid his head on Jeremy’s shoulder.

“You saved my life, remember? You gave me something new to believe in … someone to love.”

Nick pulled him closer and kissed him passionately. Finally, he pulled back, leaving Jeremy gasping. His breath steamed in the frigid air. “The night’s still young, Jer. Would you like to make the most of it?”

Jeremy paled, chewing at his lower lip. “Oh, well, we don’t have to rush into anything. We have plenty of time for that, after all. It doesn’t have to be tonight.” He picked up his mug and gulped down the rest of his coffee.

Nick’s heightened senses twinged. “Why are you so nervous?” He reached out for Jeremy’s hand. “I know you haven’t been with a guy before. We can take it slowly and ease into anything outside your experience.”

“Being with you was always theoretical before.” Jeremy licked his lips. “It’s just that, well, my experience is, um, kind of limited.”

Nick stifled a smile. “How limited?”

Jeremy said nothing, but his face flushed.

“Leshir, you would have told me if you were a virgin, right?”

“Maybe,” muttered Jeremy, eyes downcast.

“Wow. Jeremy.” Nick struggled for something vaguely appropriate and reassuring to say but failed miserably. “Wow.”

“I didn’t mean to freak you out.” Jeremy rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, Jer, you never have to hide anything from me.” He pulled Jeremy into his arms. “We’ll go slowly, and I’ll be gentle.” Planting a tender kiss on Jeremy’s forehead, he said, “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do. I promise.”

“That’s just it; I want everything,” admitted Jeremy, nestled protectively in Nick’s arms. “I’ve waited my whole life for you. I was always a loner. There’s never been anyone I wanted to be with like that. Then you came along, and I thought I’d have to spend the rest of my days watching you with other people. I never let myself believe you would ever be mine.”

Nick smiled, breathing in Jeremy’s scent, tasting his fear and anticipation and listening to his galloping heart. “The first night I brought you to Anchorpoint, I told the others you were mine,” Nick admitted. “That I was keeping you. I didn’t know at the time that it went both ways.”

“You’re mine, Nicholas,” whispered Jeremy. “I will never let you go.”

Stepping away, Nick reached out a hand in invitation. “Come join me, Leshir. There’s so much I want to share with you.”

Silently, Jeremy took his hand and let Nick lead him back inside.

C
HAPTER 27

March 2041; Jumpvessel
Transcendent
, Jupiter space; Fourteen months after public exposure

The bloated gas-giant loomed out of the star field above Rory, as if it could crush him beneath the weight of its presence at any moment. That there were a million miles and a foot of armored glass between them was scant comfort, and Rory shivered from his vantage point in the starboard observation lounge. Turning away from the planet to find something more reasonable in scale to stare at, his eyes picked out the triangular white form of the Jumpvessel
Sol Invictus
, surrounded by the white glow of Recursion Drive as it paced them less than a kilometer away.

Take and Nemesis had insisted his ship be escorted in case the
Transcendent
was destroyed somehow en route to the Arcadia colony. Rory could survive anything the physical world could throw at him, but if something happened, they argued, he’d need a ride home. There wasn’t much he could say to that.

The white glow of the jumpdrive matrix on the other ship went out as it switched to gravity drive for the approach to Callisto. Rory soon felt a twinge in his stomach as the
Transcendent
also dropped out of inertialess flight and engaged its conventional propulsion system. He smiled to himself, excited. The
Transcendent
was a top-of-the-line passenger transport with all the amenities, but after two weeks cooped up inside its white metal passageways, he was ready for a change of scene. Turning back to Jupiter, he watched the slow shifting storms pass across the planet’s face, contemplating his own insignificance next to its silent majesty.

“Speaker Sean?” asked a voice behind him.

Turning, Rory discovered a fair-skinned Spacer with reddish-brown hair standing just inside the doorway to the lounge.
Probably one of the junior officers pressed into messenger service,
thought Rory. He was about to answer when he idly glanced at the rank insignia on the man’s green uniform, noticing the winged arrowhead of Master Pilot and four vertical gold bars pinned to his left breast.
Holy shit.
The officer waited silently. “Yes?” Rory eventually managed.

The Spacer nodded and smiled knowingly at him. “Don’t worry, my Lord. Pretty much everyone has that same reaction.” He stepped forward into the room. “Captain Ellestan asked me to convey his compliments and inform you that we will arrive at Arcadia Colony within thirty minutes. In the meantime, he has asked me to answer any questions you might have, as this is your first trip to the Outer Colonies.”

Rory raised an eyebrow. “He delegated a senior officer to babysit me? That hardly seems like an efficient allocation of resources.”

“Not as outrageous as you might think, my Lord.” He made a precise quarter-bow. “Commander Michael Danvers, Senior Navigator, at your service. Now that we’ve dropped out of jumpdrive and have line of sight to Callisto, my primary duties are completed. The conventional pilots will take it from here.”

“Why use conventional engines so far out? I’ve seen jumpships fly inertialess almost all the way through the atmosphere on their way to Anchorpoint before switching over to gravity drive.”

Michael studied Rory with interest. “It’s the moon’s ionosphere. The high concentration of charged trace elements interferes with the jumpdrive matrix. The conditions are ideal for harvesting the components necessary for elysium manufacture to make jumpship hulls, but it does slow interplanetary travel to a crawl.”

“I see.” Rory glanced out of the window again, this time at the moon Callisto—their destination. His gaze sharpened as he caught sight of a complex white structure in orbit. “Is that it?”

Michael followed his line of sight. “Yes, my Lord,” he said proudly, “that is definitely
it
.”

Rory mapped out the edges of the massive space station. “How long until they’re ready to start?”

“The shipyards are fully operational, my Lord. The dedication ceremony is purely a gesture of respect to everyone who made this possible, to recognize their contribution to history.” Michael stepped forward, shrugging off his professional air as excitement crept into his voice. “It took the vampires eighteen months to complete the superstructure, working in oxygen masks in hard vacuum. Once it was pressurized, they brought in the most skilled personnel from all of the other colonies. Nothing was left to chance. Only the best engineers and technical workers were selected to join the crew.”

He pointed to the central sphere, from which the complex extended in a mad, three-dimensional tracery. “At the heart of the station is the master temporal manipulator they used to build the Hidden Cities. Next week, when the temporal distortion field goes online and accelerates relative time to maximum, the crew will operate in a fully self-contained environment for the eight years it will take to complete the vessel. This project will be the crowning achievement of the Spacer Guild, comparable to the establishment of the Colonies themselves.”

“I agree. It’s the reason I chose to perform the dedication in person.” Rory studied the Spacer, who was staring at the station wistfully. “Barring any unforeseen problems, the
Odyssey
will be ready for flight within four months absolute time. Will you be on it?”

Michael’s head snapped around. He looked suddenly uncomfortable. “My Lord, the
Odyssey
will be the most coveted assignment in the history of space travel. The chances of securing a berth are slim to none without a proven track record. I am barely over a year out of the Academy.”

Rory smiled. “But what a year it was, Icarus.” Rory laughed at the comical look of surprise that flashed over the Spacer’s face at the use of his call sign. “Yes, Michael, I know exactly who you are, even if I didn’t recognize you at first. Guildmaster Thurgood is a friend of mine. He speaks very highly of you. In fact, he never shuts up about how brilliant you are. If it were up to him, he’d hand his job over to you in a heartbeat once he retires.” Rory winked, and the Spacer blushed with embarrassment. Reaching out, Rory tapped the four rank bars on Michael’s uniform. “I hear the crews of all the ships you’ve served on, including this one, have been quietly gathering support among the Fleet Captains to put your name in contention as soon as you earn your fifth bar.”

Michael’s jaw dropped. “They can’t do that!”

“Your shipmates seem quite determined, Commander. If you don’t want the job, you’d better tell them that, and soon, or I suspect you’re going to find yourself with a completely new set of primary duties.”

Michael stared at him. “My Lord, will you excuse me? I need to make some calls,” he said tersely.

Taking a seat in one of the comfortable chairs, Rory laced his fingers behind his head as he calmly regarded the flustered officer. “By all means, Michael. I’m not going anywhere.” He turned his gaze back to the Odyssey Shipyards. “You, on the other hand, are definitely going places.”

P
ART
VI
: 
R
ETRIBUTION

C
HAPTER 28

May 2041; Paris, France; Sixteen months after public exposure

Isabeau glided through the crowd, unshielding her aura to drink in the massed emotions of the human throng in the nightclub. Psychic feeding was unsatisfying on its own, but it served well as an appetizer. All around her, she felt the wan auras of the Children of the Day shiver as she passed. Finding a seat at the bar, she pitched her voice over the rumble of conversation all around and ordered a glass of wine. As the band began setting up their instruments at the back of the club, she sipped her wine quietly and used her full senses to idly scan the thoughts of the patrons.

Then she noticed something odd—a curious gap in the minds scattered before her. Immediately focusing her attention on the anomaly, she realized it came from just inside the door. A man in a short-sleeved black shirt and blue jeans, with a thin white windbreaker draped over his left arm, had just entered. He was in his twenties, she guessed, with dirty blond hair, and he stood beside a somewhat older Asian man whose stiff posture screamed bodyguard.

She studied the young man more carefully as the bodyguard spoke quietly to the club’s security. He didn’t seem particularly unusual for a human, but although his emotions radiated excitement, his actual thoughts were hidden from her. She watched curiously as the bodyguard led his charge to a small booth that bore a reserved sign.
Strange,
she thought,
this one seems a little young to command such special treatment.
She tried again to read his thoughts and failed, although his emotions prickled her other senses.

A latent telepath perhaps,
she mused.
Unusual for a human to have that level of unconscious ability, but not unheard of. It might be entertaining to have a conversation I can’t predict, at least until I make a meal out of him.
Her course of action resolved, she smiled as she rose from her seat and walked gracefully toward the corner booth, wineglass in hand.

A moment before she reached the table, the bodyguard stepped smoothly in her way. Looking past him, she noticed her prey focus his attention on her. “
Bonsoir, Monsieur
,” she said, ignoring the bodyguard. “Care for some company?”

“Perhaps another time, Madame,” the bodyguard answered in the same language.

“It’s okay, Tran,” the young man interjected in English. Smiling, he addressed Isabeau in fairly accented French. “Company would be welcome.”

The bodyguard frowned, making ready to protest until she gently nudged his thoughts in a more agreeable direction. Blinking at her, he shrugged. “Up to you, Toby.” He stepped aside and walked back to his place next to the booth.

“A pleasure to meet you, Toby,” Isabeau said in flawless English as she slid confidently into the booth across from the prey. “What brings you to Paris?”

Toby grinned. “I’m glad you speak English. My French is kind of rusty.”

“This is Paris,
Monsieur
. The heart of civilization.” She smiled indulgently at him. “We try to be accommodating of those who are born to less fortunate cultures.”

Toby snorted. “So do Americans. We just don’t say it in front of them.”

She sipped at her wine sensuously. “What would be the point of concealing it, Toby? Is it not more honorable simply to be honest?”

“I guess so,” Toby said with a chuckle. He ordered a drink from a passing waitress before turning his attention back to Isabeau. “So, are you going to tell me your name?”

“Isabeau,” she said. “And you have still not told me what brings you to Paris.”

Toby shrugged. “I’m supposed to perform a concert here in a couple of days, but my last venue cancelled, so I decided to head down a little early.”

One of her eyebrow’s arched delicately. “You are an entertainer? What medium, if I may ask?”

“A violinist. Mostly jazz and rock.”

“Ah, I see. I’m afraid that is not so much to my taste. Such music better suits the younger set. I prefer a more classical flavor.”

Toby regarded her quizzically. “The ‘younger set’? You don’t look more than a couple of years older than me.”

She smiled widely at him. “Thank you, Toby. I take that as a compliment.”

Toby grinned at her again and then glanced at the four-instrument combo tuning up at the back of the club. “If you like classical, why come to see a jazz band?”