Sunset: Pact Arcanum: Book One (57 page)

Lorcan snarled. “I will never yield to you, my Lord.”

Rory shook his head. “I’m not asking you to. I’m asking whether you can yield to Nick, if I do the same. Can you stand by and let him choose, without trying to influence the outcome?”

“You would have me simply sit back and wait for him? Are you so naïve to think I will do nothing to bring him back to my side? You expect me to just cross my fingers and hope he turns to me?”

“He might choose you,” said Rory. “He might choose me. But eternity is a long time, and not everything lasts forever. He could always change his mind. He may even find a way to be with us both.”

Lorcan regarded his rival with surprise. “That is not possible, my Lord. Formal matings are always monogamous. It cannot be otherwise.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Huntmaster, Nicholas rewrites all the rules. He doesn’t give a damn about convention when it comes to following his heart. Right now, we’re both in the running—but only if we let him decide for himself. If we continue to fight over him, sooner or later I will be forced to kill you, and he will lose another person he loves. Do you really want to put him through that?”

Lorcan sighed. “No.” He drew himself up straight. “Sean Magister Jiao-long, if Nicholas finds it in his heart to love you, then I will not stand in his way.” He smiled, a predatory grin that revealed his gleaming fangs. “However, your alternate proposal is one I hadn’t considered. It bears careful thought. Perhaps, if each of us declines to press our own suit forward, we might instead pursue a more, shall we say, cooperative arrangement?”

Rory raised his eyebrows. “Wait. You’re not suggesting we actually try to seduce him, are you? Both of us together?”

Lorcan’s face grew somber. “Someday, Redeemer, when the time comes, he will need our love and support to survive. He has tied himself to too many mortals: Jeremy, Scott, his family. Their deaths will gnaw at his spirit forever afterward. We have been friend and lover to him. Who better to catch him when he falls? We need not fight, my Lord, if the outcome is already decided between us that we shall both win.”

Rory regarded him thoughtfully. Then he reached out and picked up his glass of Selene once more. “Ruarc, my name is Rory. Feel free to use it.”

“It is my honor to know you, Rory.” Picking up his own champagne flute, Lorcan tapped the rim against Rory’s. A pure tone chimed in the silence. “To a long and fruitful partnership.”

Rory smiled. “To partnership.”

Lifting their glasses, they both drank to the future.

* * *

Layla strolled through the small formal garden behind the embassy, alone now that most of the guests had returned to the reception. Spreading her arms wide, she opened her senses, drinking in the sensations of the cool breeze on her skin and the fragrances of the flowering plants kept vital by warming spells. She noticed a dead space in her psychic field at the same time as she heard the extra heartbeat. Turning to face the intruder, she found Toby standing quietly at the entrance, watching her.

“Come in, Tobias, if you have something to say.”

Toby stepped carefully down the worn stone steps to stand in the center of the garden next to her. “Magister Curallorn,” he said, “may I have a moment of your time?”

Layla lowered her arms to her sides. She’d been expecting a confrontation some time ago, but as the months passed, she had put it aside in her mind. “By all means, Primogenitor Luscian. Have you come to defend your brother’s honor?”

Toby smiled slightly. “I considered it for a while. I was pretty pissed off when you finished laying out exactly how you had been screwing with his life. A year ago, I would have been all up on your case about it.”

Layla regarded him with curiosity. “And what changed?”

“I opened my eyes,” Toby said. “And I learned to appreciate tactics.” He turned his eyes to the garden and bent to stroke the petals of a rose. “You forced Lorcan to leave because you thought Nick was using him as a crutch to avoid forming stronger relationships. And you objected to Jeremy’s entrance into the Armistice because you thought he’d be a distraction from Nick’s duties. Everything you’ve done was to separate him from his support mechanisms. To force him to stand on his own two feet.

“That’s why you didn’t intervene with the duels—so he would learn to fight beyond his limits, not just for himself, but for someone else, as well. All I know is that he hasn’t shown any interest in drugs since Icarus died. Maybe all your scheming and manipulation finally gave him the strength to live with his problems, rather than escape them.” Toby picked one of the smaller rosebuds and held it out to her. “So for that, I thank you.”

Taking the red blossom, Layla threaded it through one of her loose braids. “Nicholas had much the same reaction in the end. The two of you have a great deal in common, Tobias Primogenitor Luscian. The same reason, intelligence—the same honest sincerity.” She smiled warmly. “I can see why you both seem to have so many suitors. It is an attractive combination.”

Toby colored slightly. “Suitors?”

Layla grinned, the point of her fangs peeping from between her full lips. “I have read your Armistice Security background biography. You left quite a trail of broken hearts over your musical career. I’m surprised you didn’t bring a date to the ceremony, or were you planning to hunt for one during the wedding reception?”

Toby grinned. “Something like that.” His eyes wandered over the carefully cultivated flowerbeds for a minute, and then he tilted his head to gaze at her with a smile. “Do you like jazz, Layla?”

Surprise danced across her face. “I keep abreast of the cultures of my people—those the Europeans brought in chains to America. Blues and jazz, while quite different from the music I enjoyed in my youth, entertain and soothe the mind when done well. Why do you ask?”

Toby subvocalized to his AI and music filled the garden, mostly trumpet and saxophone, with the occasional violin. He held out his hand to Layla, his eyes bright above his wide grin. “Would you care to dance, my Lady?”

Layla let him lead her through the first dance, but she remained strangely uneasy. There was something less than innocent about Toby’s boyish charm, almost as if he had another agenda. Opening her senses fully to study him, she teased out the threads of emotion that ran through his mind. Pleasure, happiness, calculation, and something else, something she hadn’t seen for some time, something almost like … desire. She froze as the first song ended and a second began.

Toby grinned at her. “Would you care to lead this time, Lady?”

Layla just glared at him. “Tobias, I have engineered the rise and fall of entire civilizations. You must believe yourself quite the ladies’ man indeed, if you think you can seduce
me
.”

His grin faded somewhat, but he continued to smile. “You are the Master of your house, the spider in the center of your web. I am a Sentinel without a grouping—second-in-command of a vampire house made up entirely of mortals, named Death, for it will surely come for us all. You’re alone at the top, and so am I. Perhaps we could be alone together?”

Layla was appalled. His proposal was logical and reasoned, clearly not something he had thought of extemporaneously. Having already considered the implications, he was actually willing to give it a go. She shook her head, astonished. “You are twenty-five years old, child. Set your sights on someone reasonable.”

Toby’s smile vanished. “I am a Fire Sentinel with no team. Those groups are almost all closed to me, and they’re the only ones who might understand who I am. Should I date humans and introduce myself as a musician and part-time combat magician? Who else is left who wouldn’t be more interested in attaching themselves to the Primogenitor Luscian than to plain old Toby Jameson?”

“You are not plain, Tobias,” Layla said sincerely. “And you are certainly not old. Not like I am old.”

“You’ve been alive for five thousand years, Layla. Tell me, what keeps you going after all that time? Is there some warmth that makes all the games worthwhile? Someone who took the time to understand?”

She sighed.
Why am I even having this conversation?
“There are small pleasures where I find them. But no, I have no partner. No one I have met in thousands of years has been my equal, and I will not settle for less than that.”

Toby grinned widely, and she realized that somehow she had stepped into a trap—one not of her own making.

“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong place, Layla, trying to find an equal when what you really need is an opposite.”

“And you think you are the man for the job?” Her haughtiness was matched only by her incredulity.

“You could do worse. And so could I.” Toby smirked.

Amused by his circular logic and brash enthusiasm, Layla studied him carefully. As the third song began to play, she held out her hand. “Then perhaps I will lead, after all.”

* * *

Back on the main floor, the teleport gateway next to the banquet hall flared and Nick, flanked by Scott and Ana, appeared in the center of the pattern. The Sentinels immediately sought out their families while Nick looked around for his husband. Finding him, Nick was captivated by Jeremy’s gray eyes, which lit up as they fixed on him. A whisper swept through his mind—a single word echoing loudly between his inner and outer mental shields. “
Mine
.”

Nick grinned and reached out to the presence in his thoughts. “
Yours
,” he silently agreed, walking down the aisle toward his husband. Take, staring down at the chessboard in disbelief, reached out and tipped over his king. Muttering under his breath, the Wind of Earth got up to leave as Nick took a seat next to Jeremy.

“I love you, Leshir,” Nick said, kissing Jeremy’s cheek.

Jeremy gave him a crooked grin. “I’m not your Leshir anymore, Nicholas. I’m your husband.”

Nick nuzzled his neck. “You’re still my Leshir, Sentinel Jameson. You always have been.”

Jeremy’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“Damn. You don’t know, do you?” said Nick, surprised.

“Know what?”

“Nightwalker titles have changed over time to mirror human societies, but the word ‘Leshir’ comes straight from Arcolin, to remind the Nightwalkers of what they lost.” Nick rolled his eyes, amused. “All this time and I completely forgot you wouldn’t have a clue what it means.”

“I thought it meant Prince Consort.”

Nick traced Jeremy’s cheekbone gently. “That’s just how it’s used, Love. Not what the word actually means.”

Leaning into Nick’s touch, Jeremy whispered, “Then what does it mean?”

Nick kissed him deeply and extended a tendril of thought to send the word directly to Jeremy’s mind.
“Soulmate.”

When Nick broke the kiss, Jeremy leaned back in his seat and stared at his husband. Then he smiled and stood, reaching for Nick’s hand. “Come on,” he commanded. “There’s something I read about in the writings of Jacob of Glastonbury, something I’m finally ready to try.”

Nick let Jeremy lead him down the center aisle to the dance floor. “Jeremy, you hate dancing.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then just relax and let me into your mind.”

Nick stood silently, feeling Jeremy touch his mind lightly, then more concretely, as the telepath insinuated himself deeply into Nick’s thoughts. Suddenly, Nick was floating, carried along in the current of Jeremy’s telepathic power. His husband’s voice echoed all around him.
“Feed on me, Nick.”

Nick tried to focus.
“Leshir, we’re in public.”

“This is our night, Nicholas. Trust me.”

Letting his fangs extend slowly, Nick leaned forward and gently bit down into Jeremy’s neck, feeling the rush as the blood magic opened up between them as he fed. Suddenly, the magic of the bridge rippled and redoubled. He watched in disbelief as it expanded to encompass them both. Although it should not have been possible, the double bridge opened between them, revealing—from each perspective—their earlier lives apart and then their time together, as they waltzed through their memories to the end. They faced each other finally, sheltered within the memory of the Light Jeremy had crafted for Nick on the day they met.

“I love you.”
Jeremy’s voice was husky, earnest.

“
I will never let you go,”
Nick replied.

“Remember me,”
they said to each other.
“And I will never leave you.”

The double bridge faded as Jeremy withdrew from Nick’s mind.

“How?” asked Nick, after he healed the incisions in Jeremy’s neck and retracted his fangs

“Blood magic is a lot stronger than a Third Order link,” Jeremy explained. “But Jacob of Glastonbury believed a Fourth Order link could be just as powerful. All I needed to do was simulate that connection, and the bridge realigned itself to its most optimum configuration.” He smiled and held out his hands. “Now, would you like to dance?”

Taking his hands, Nick began to lead them in a few simple steps. “Have you been practicing?” he asked, shocked that Jeremy was keeping up effortlessly.

“No.” Jeremy grinned. “You taught me everything I needed to know just now, when I absorbed a few of your skills.”

Skeptically, Nick increased the complexity of his movements and then laughed in disbelief as Jeremy improved upon his steps to lead them into a fast tango. They swirled smoothly around the room, ignoring the cheers and claps of friends and family. Finally, in the center of the floor, they paused, gazing into each other’s eyes.

“Okay, everybody!” yelled Toby, entering the ballroom discreetly ahead of Layla, just in time to take his duties as Jeremy’s Best Man seriously. “I would like to make a toast.

“This has been a long time coming, and we have all walked a difficult road to get here,” Toby said, as everyone else refilled their glasses and listened. “After everything we’ve been through, it is my great honor and pleasure to welcome Jeremy Kenneth Harkness Jameson into my family. Jer, although you have always been an incredible pain in the ass, and my brother was such a clueless moron to push you away, I am truly ecstatic to see you have both finally cleared away all the bullshit that stood between you. I hope you and Nick make each other disgustingly happy for the rest of your lives, and I plan to watch you guys like a hawk to make sure everything works out exactly as you deserve.