The humans looked back and forth among themselves. No one took the offer. Instead, they all fastened the medallions to their clothes so that they showed prominently. Jeremy waited until they were finished before speaking again. “Grendel, bear witness.”
“Forensic recording enabled.”
Jeremy took a deep breath. “I extend the protection of House Luscian to all humans present in this room until such time as they leave this facility. Their honor is now ours to defend as if it were our own. Set and done this date over my seal and signature, Jeremy Kenneth Harkness Leshir Luscian, called the Seer.”
“Forensic recording terminated.”
“Open the door.”
The silver wall cracked in the middle and the two halves slid silently apart. Jeremy indicated the door. “If you will all please follow me?”
He led them into the banquet hall. The first and most striking thing the humans noticed on stepping into the room was that they were on the roof.
“We’re outside?” one of the camera crew said questioningly.
Jeremy smiled. “No. The walls and ceiling are projecting a holographic view of the sky, as seen from the video sensor on the roof.” He pointed at the bright red sun inching toward the distant horizon. “The rest of the guests will be arriving as soon as the sun sets, in about an hour, but a few of our people are here already.”
The room was laid out in a crossed square. The arms of the cross acted as open aisles that ran past triangular tables of opaque white glass to an open dance floor. At the opposite end of the room, a large eight-pointed star design on the floor was met with silver metal pillars at each of the vertices. Leading them up the aisle to the center of the room, Jeremy showed them to a pair of large tables on either side of the aisle. Each table had one apex of the triangle missing, allowing a head chair to be placed there. The table on the left of the aisle had the seal of House Luscian etched into the glass. On the right, the glass was etched with a dragon overlaid with a sword and three concentric circles. Three people already lounged around the Luscian table, talking.
Jeremy pointed to the name cards at each place setting. “This is where you will all be sitting, as you’re temporarily under the protection of House Luscian. But please let me introduce you to a few people.” He indicated each of seated guests in turn.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce Michelle Phillips Consors Luscian, Sike Kayani Consors Jiao-long, and Sentinel Tobias Jameson Consul Luscian.”
Toby waved to the camera.
“We have about an hour to kill before sunset.” Jeremy turned to the reporter. “I thought you might be interested in getting a human perspective on the inner workings of life in the Armistice.” He turned to the humans. “That is, if you don’t mind?”
Michelle laughed. “Jeremy, this is hardly the first time I’ve been dragged into an interview because of the guys. You don’t have to worry about us.” She turned to the President and First Lady. “Please, won’t you sit?”
“Do you mind if I join you?” asked Sike. “It’s kind of lonely sitting at the Jiao-long table all by myself.”
“Of course,” said Jeremy. “You can take Scott’s seat until Ana joins us.”
They took their respective seats. Pointing out the small control panel attached to the glass table in front of each place setting, Jeremy instructed, “If you touch the green control and state what you want, the kitchen will teleport the item to the black square next to the panel. Anything you place on the black square when you touch the red control will be automatically teleported back to the kitchens to be cleaned.” He placed a hand on the green control in front of him and said, “Macallan, twenty-year, room temperature, neat.” A few seconds later, a crystal tumbler appeared on the black square next to his panel. He picked it up and took a sip. Then he looked at the others. “Please feel free to order anything from the bar, alcoholic or otherwise. What we don’t have on site, we can have sent in pretty quickly.”
When they were settled, the reporter began asking questions. “My first question is about the significance of the titles you were introduced by.” She directed the microphone at Michelle Phillips. “They sounded like heraldry, but I’m not familiar with the terms from the book of protocol I reviewed as part of my research, other than the title Consul, which means councilor. I believe it designates a trusted advisor, if I recall correctly.”
Toby leaned forward and grinned into the camera. “That’s right. My brother gave Scott Phillips the title ‘Consul’ to give him standing with the other Nightwalker houses, and he named me to the same rank after my Gift kindled. Normally, those titles don’t apply to humans and Sentinels, but Houses Luscian and Jiao-long have broken with tradition and adopted some of us. It really annoys most of the Court of Shadows, but they can’t object to the internal hierarchy of another vampire house without inviting intrusions into their own sovereignty.”
The reporter turned back to Michelle. “I presume the title Consors applies to your marital status?”
“Nightwalker heraldry doesn’t recognize religious relationships such as marriage,” Michelle answered. “They are a product of Sentinel and human cultures. The acknowledged mate, male or female, of a vampire of higher rank is referred to as Consors, or consort of the higher-ranking vampire. Since our spouses are both considered Consul, we carry Consors rank. It probably wasn’t in your book of protocol, since that deals mostly with official business and the Consors rank is a personal relationship marker. It’s usually considered secondary to the lower-ranked vampire’s actual blood rank.”
“I know House Luscian is led by Ambassador Nicholas, but what is House Jiao-long, and why are they willing to admit humans and Sentinels?” The First Lady asked.
“House Jiao-long is governed by Rory Brennigan,” said Sike. “He and the rest of his triad were able to wipe out all members of that bloodline before the battle in which Rory was turned, so he inherited the title of Magister. Following the precedent set by Nick, he extended blood rank to the other members of his triad, so I have Consors rank by my marriage to Anaba Nizhoni.”
“Interesting,” said Ms. Bradshaw. “So the term is gender-neutral? It applies to any individual who has a relationship with a vampire of higher rank, regardless of whether that individual is male or female?”
“That’s right.” Michelle nodded. “Except for the mate of a Head of House, called the Magister. Since the Magisters are the Princes of their respective houses, regardless of gender, their mates are referred to as Prince Consorts or by the heraldic term Leshir.”
President Daniels had been listening silently, but he raised his eyebrows at that. Everyone on his side of the table turned to look at Jeremy, who had leaned away to engage in a whispered conversation with Toby.
Sike tapped Toby on the shoulder. “Excuse us, boys, but I think you’re going to need to pay attention now.”
CHAPTER 35
“Sorry.” Toby stopped mid-sentence and turned back to the table. “We were just talking about family stuff.”
The reporter stared at them. “Mr. Jameson, do you consider Mr. Harkness to be family?” she asked, shoving the microphone toward him a little too enthusiastically.
Toby cocked his head in confusion. “Of course. He’s practically my brother-in-law.”
“Well, that’s overstating it a bit.” Jeremy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “We’re not actually married or anything.”
Toby snorted. “Oh, please. If there were a vampire ceremony for it, Nick would be all over that.”
“Why do you ask?” Jeremy looked from the President to the reporter and then to Sike, who was struggling to stifle his laughter. “Did I miss something?”
Sike took pity on him. “Jer, I don’t think they knew about you and Nick.”
“That’s ridiculous. Everybody knows about us. We’ve been together more than nine months.”
Toby’s laughter generated a baleful stare from Jeremy. “Sorry, Jer. It didn’t occur to me before. Nick told me and the rest o
f the family about you just after Valentine’s, but I don’t think he got around to announcing it to the world. At least, I don’t remember seeing any news coverage about you.”
Jeremy stared at the reporter. “Really? He never mentioned me? Not once?”
Ms. Bradshaw shook her head, excited at the exclusive. “Not that I know of, Mr. Harkness.”
“Wow.” Jeremy sipped at his whiskey. “He probably forgot entirely. He can be such a moron when it comes to his personal life.”
Toby snickered. “True enough.” He clinked his glass against Jeremy’s. “To Nick.”
“To Nick.” They both took a swallow of liquor.
Jeremy looked at Ms. Bradshaw again. “It’s strange to think you don’t know. Everyone in the metahuman world does. It’s been front-page scandal since January.”
“I can imagine,” President Daniels muttered.
Jeremy examined him through narrowed eyes. “No, Mr. President, I don’t think you can.” He took another sip of whiskey. “You’re looking at our relationship through human prejudices. This is a society of telepaths and shapeshifters. In our world, it really is what’s inside that counts.” Staring down into the cool amber liquid in his glass, he swirled it before finishing it off. “The Free People couldn’t care less about a sexual relationship between two men. There are other prejudices we have to deal with.”
He sent his glass away and ordered another. “My mental abilities and thought patterns are Sentinel, but I have no magic nor any of the physical enhancements that should go along with that. To almost the entire vampire population of the world, including most of the Free People, I’m just a particularly talented human. Therein lies the problem.”
President Daniels frowned, curious in spite of himself. “How so?”
“I told you how most vampires see human beings, Mr. President. He’s a Prince of the Blood, and I am prey. For him to acknowledge our relationship openly is a huge slap in the face to their own arrogance; I’m beneath his dignity.”
The table fell silent.
“Has it gotten any better?” Sike asked.
Jeremy shrugged. “In some ways, but it’s worse in others. Nick has always been popular with Daywalkers, but the Sentinels and Nightwalkers are still majorly pissed off at him after Los Angeles. The Sentinels are pretty much a lost cause—they can’t do anything to him without breaching the Armistice, so they mostly just ignore us. The Nightwalkers, on the other hand, show their displeasure by challenging him to honor combat. I’ve stopped counting the number of duels he’s fought, but they only increased after Paris.”
“Oh, damn. Jer, I’m sorry. I never asked him to do that.” Toby winced. “What happened to me wasn’t such a big deal. If I had known, I would have stopped him.”
The reporter asked, “Paris?” She leaned forward intently. “Does this have something to do with the strange symbol that mysteriously appeared over the city back in May? The Ambassador wouldn’t comment, saying it was an internal matter within the Court of Shadows. Are you saying he was involved?”
Toby avoided her stare. “Yes.”
“How? The residents of the city have been trying to remove them, but they keep reappearing.”
Toby remained silent, taking another sip of his drink. The reported turned to Jeremy with an expectant expression.
Jeremy sat up straight in his chair. “Three months ago, a Nightwalker came on to Toby in a nightclub in Paris. She apparently didn’t notice the Seal of Protection he was wearing.”
“I was careless. It was pinned to my jacket, which I had taken off when I entered the club. She couldn’t see it.” Toby finally looked up at the reporter, who signaled to the camera crew to come closer.
“She wasn’t shielding her aura,” Toby continued, “so her presence kindled my Gift. Eventually, she saw the seal and realized who I was. Then she ran away.”
“Why did she run?”
“Because, right after Los Angeles, Nick informed the Court of Shadows that if any Nightwalker came anywhere near any member of his family, he would consider it an act of war against his house and would take vengeance.” Toby finished his drink and ordered another. When it appeared, he cradled it in his hands. “When I opened my eyes, I called Nick to ask him what to do. Nick and Scott appeared in my hotel room a few minutes later. Rage doesn’t begin to describe the emotion that radiated from him. Scott dragged me out of the city when I discovered what Nick had planned. I would have stopped him. I really would have.” He whispered the last part to himself.
The reporter leaned forward, scenting another story. “What did your brother do, Mr. Jameson?”
“He sealed the city within a ward that prevented any Child of Darkness from leaving, and then he cast a spell that laid down Sigils of Purification every couple of feet throughout the enclosed area.”
“What is a Sigil of Purification?” The First Lady asked, as she examined the black square in front of her, placing her hand on it to order a glass of champagne.
“A form of white magic,” Jeremy answered. “It generates a stable field that negates black magic for a short distance around, similar to a Faith Ward. They take a tremendous amount of power to create, so very few magicians can create them without working in concert. When laid out in a mosaic pattern, the effect is magnified—reinforced across the collective area spanned by neighboring Sigils.” He reached out and rubbed Toby’s back gently. “In human terms, he carpet-bombed the city. Not a single Nightwalker escaped. There’s no way of knowing for sure how many died because their remains were reduced to dust, but Paris was an important and populous territory. Based on previous estimates of the Nightwalker presence, Armistice Security believes the final death toll to be around fifty thousand.”
Toby looked contrite. “The spell’s effect is perpetual within the boundaries of the perimeter ward. That’s why they can’t remove the Sigils. The spell just lays down more. The entire city is effectively holy ground now. No Nightwalker will be able to survive there longer than a few seconds, from now until the end of time.
“It’s the first human city to be completely safe from Nightwalker occupation in the history of the war. The local Sentinel population has either moved on or simply retired. Daywalkers have set up a new community there, creating an informal non-interference pact with the remaining Sentinels. Paris is now the only permanent enclave of the Children of the Dawn in Europe. Other than the Armistice Security garrison at Castle Night, that represents the only extension of the Armistice beyond North America.”
Ms. Bradshaw’s mouth tightened into a hard line as she considered the information.
“Nick told them from the beginning there would be no second chances if they crossed him,” Jeremy hurriedly elaborated. “He gave them fair warning.” He turned to Toby. “You can’t blame him for keeping his word, little brother.”
“No, I can’t. But I can blame myself for letting it happen.”
“Toby, look at me.” Toby met Jeremy’s eyes. “Nick will fight with vampire honor when he’s defending himself, but when it comes to protecting someone he loves, honor goes out the window and he fights like a Sentinel. Sentinels don’t fight defensively, and they certainly don’t take prisoners.”
Michelle sighed. “If I could go back in time to the beginning of the war and strangle the bitch who designed the Sentinel Gift that way, I would.” She blushed at her language as she remembered the First Lady, sitting across from her, and put her hand to her mouth in embarrassment for a moment before continuing. “The Founders committed their descendants to be the instruments of total war. War without end, without mercy, without hope, down to the last generation. It’s monstrous. I don’t blame Scott for trying to keep our family out of it. I just wish I had known what he was going through.”
The First Lady looked at her. “You didn’t know?”
Michelle shook her head. “Not until after Los Angeles. Then he brought me to Anchorpoint and told me the whole story. It was hard to forgive him, but in the end, he was trying to protec
t us as best he knew how. At least I don’t have any trace of the Gift, so our son is safe from having to live like that.”
“I don’t envy you,” Catherine Daniels said. “To live in this madness must take a terrifying toll.”
“It does, but that doesn’t matter as long as we face it together.” Michelle sighed. “This is my life now. I demanded Scott let me into his world, and he did. There’s no going back to the place we were before. All I can do is try to love him enough to keep him human.”
“It’s always been this way—the secrets, the lies, the killing,” Sike agreed. “It will never change until the Great Work is complete.”
Toby raised his glass. “To the Great Work.”
The others raised their glasses and clinked them together.
The President looked at them in confusion. “What is the Great Work?”
“The redemption of the Children of Darkness,” Jeremy answered. “When the Traveler was given the power of the Grace, he was told that when the last Nightwalker was killed or saved, and the Red Wind defeated, there would be nothing left to kindle the Sentinel Gift. It will remain dormant forever afterward. The Children of Twilight will cease to exist as a race, and our descendants will be human. Only the Children of the Dawn will survive to carry on the legacy of magic, and they apparently can’t create new scions. When the last Daywalker is finally gone, the war will truly be over, and the Age of Magic will come to an end.”
“The Sentinel people have been fighting for thirty thousand years and haven’t been able to do anything but slow the advance of Nightwalkers, stopping them from taking over the world entirely.” Toby explained. “The Traveler has changed all that. He has given us our first hope of victory since the First Age. No Sentinel would ever bend his knee to a vampire, but we know in our hearts that the Redeemer’s success is the only chance our descendants have of being free from the Gift. In that respect, he is our savior, too.”
Sunset (Pact Arcanum) Page 34