by Joey W. Hill
"If you are worried others may have noticed the Ennui," Keldwyn said, "I do not believe anyone has. With the possible exception of Lady Lyssa, because her husband Rex had it.”
That should have startled Uthe, but he thought of the way Lyssa had looked at him. Her intensity when she’d told him she would care for him however was needed—if he returned. The heavy weight on his chest was a mix of gratitude and mortification, and deeper emotions that made him glad he’d kissed the hem of her skirt.
“It is a gradual, insidious kind of condition, is it not?” Keldwyn continued. “Moments of perfect clarity, and then abrupt loss of time and memory. Surges of impulse control problems, blood and sex, violence.”
“Yes.” He’d read Brian’s reports, then. Uthe took a seat in the chair across from him. He couldn’t bring himself to look as relaxed as Keldwyn, but he did his best, trying to steady himself in all the ways he knew from other unsettling situations. There’d been many of those over the years. Being a vampire and a Council member made violence and crisis inevitable. Though when it came from within instead of without, it required an entirely different skill set to appear calm and unruffled about it.
Keldwyn tilted his head, the lamplight glittering off the tattoo on his face. “I spoke to Lord Brian extensively about it, as part of my continuing education on the vampire world. He checked with Lady Lyssa to be certain how much he could say. Such caution speaks well of him.”
“He is mature far beyond his years. He will serve on Council himself one day.”
“He told me that the symptoms will present in different combinations and levels, depending on the vampire. Daegan Rei’s mother was beset by apathy and lethargy, one of the most peaceful experiences of the disease documented. No bloodlust or impulse issues. She seemed touched by an almost divine calmness until the very end.”
“Yes.” Uthe had helped with her care and protection, as he was sure Keldwyn knew. She hadn’t wanted Daegan to know her condition until it could no longer be concealed. Most vampire children did not stay in close contact with their parents after they matured, as demands and interests drew them apart, so it had not been difficult. Once Daegan had learned of it, though, he’d stayed close, sharing the responsibility for watching over her with Uthe as much as she’d allow. Unfortunately, he’d been away when she died, but it could not be helped.
The rumor on Council was that the confusion of the disease had probably made her think it was nightfall, and her servant had been unable to coax her in before the sun rose. Uthe thought it more likely that she had a moment of lucidity and ordered the servant to leave her be, to let her go. Or he’d had a moment of compassionate clarity and had known it was their time. She’d apparently lain down on a bed of flowers, her arms spread out like wings, because the ash had left an impression like an angel’s against the delicate foliage. Since a third mark’s life was linked to his vampire’s, her servant’s body was found curled at her feet.
“You loved her,” Keldwyn observed.
“I did. She was a friend. There are those who thought there was more between us.” Uthe lifted a shoulder.
“As I said, it has been easier for you to allow others to think a woman’s flesh is your preference.” Keldwyn shifted his leg so his ankle pressed against the side of Uthe’s foot. “Your mouth dispels that impression rather quickly. Did I not have to honor your need to complete your quest in a timely manner, I would have you on your knees several times a day, Lord Uthe.”
His loins tightened at the image, but Uthe said nothing. Keldwyn straightened and leaned forward, so his knees were within a few inches of Uthe’s. The Fae’s attention was on his face. “I would have you say it, Uthe. That you prefer a man’s touch.”
“Why?”
Keldwyn traced Uthe’s collarbone, hooking the chain of the Templar pendant he often wore. The medallion, worn from constant wear and age, had the raised imprint of two knights riding one horse on one side; the Dome of the Rock was on the reverse. Around the knights was engraved sigillum militum, the military seal, and around the Dome was Christi de Templo.
Keldwyn passed his fingers over the raised image without comment, going from there down Uthe’s chest, following his pectoral. Uthe drew in a breath as the Fae scraped a fingernail over his nipple, making Uthe want to shift in the chair. “Because I want to hear it from your lips while I am touching you. Because it makes me want you more.”
When he’d agreed to Keldwyn’s condition of sexual service, he’d known it would be a challenge to keep his reaction to such demands under his control, but he hadn’t expected it to be impossible. Sex was a pleasant, manageable activity for him. He’d forgotten it could be like this. Or perhaps it wasn’t a matter of forgetting. He’d never actually experienced anything as intense and strong as his reaction to the Fae’s demands.
“I prefer a man’s touch, my lord.” His voice had a hoarse quality. Keldwyn’s eyes darkened.
“Good, Lord Uthe. Next time I ask you a question about your desires, do not make me pry it out of you.” He sat back and picked up the thread of their conversation. The seesaw between emotional and physical turmoil was making it difficult for Uthe to find steady ground.
“There were those who thought Lady Lyssa’s mother had Ennui, including Lyssa herself, but Brian is not so sure. After Lyssa was old enough to care for herself, Masako withdrew from the vampire world. He has collected data that suggests she started falling into melancholy. She also experienced episodes of violence where she had to be restrained to prevent indiscriminate harm to other vampires or humans. All indications of Ennui, but Brian postulated that the manner in which Lyssa’s father died broke something within her, never repaired. Once she knew her daughter could handle life on her own, her emotions about that time of her life closed back in upon her and tore her to pieces. When she begged to embrace the sun, those caring for her permitted it. She did not go easily. She died weeping under its heat.”
Uthe rose and moved back to his desk. “I need to finish packing.”
Keldwyn’s gaze went to the chest. “You must have been sure I would secure the Queen’s permission.”
“I was confident you would do all that could be done, but that’s not why I’m packed. There is something I must do before I go to the Fae world. I can arrange to meet you back here when it is done.”
“I will go with you. There is nothing to hold me here right now.”
“That is not necessary, my lord.”
“But is there anything to prohibit you from having company? Other than your wish to be rid of me?”
Whereas the Fae claimed never to lie, vampires had no problem with it, generally. Unfortunately, lying to Keldwyn and getting away with it was as difficult as getting a lie past Uthe himself. Plus, Uthe found he didn’t want to lie to him about this.
“Nothing to prohibit you. But I see nothing to compel you. What you desire from me, you can get elsewhere easily enough during my absence and not have to endure this journey.”
He’d said something that displeased the Fae, because Keldwyn got that tight look around his jaw. “Do not presume to know the shape of what I desire from you, my lord,” he said. “But you are wrong. There is something to compel me. Your Lady Lyssa.”
Uthe’s gaze sharpened on him. “What do you mean?”
When Keldwyn turned his head, the leaf imprint on his cheek and temple enhanced the piercing quality of his expression. “Your Queen requested that I be with you throughout your charge, from beginning to end. She told me she would consider it a personal favor. It’s a risky boon for a Queen to offer a Fae, though I’m sure she’s well aware of the implications of it.”
Uthe left the desk to stand before Keldwyn, his expression cold. “You will not obligate Lady Lyssa to anything. I will take on the burden. She should not be beholden to you. She is too important to risk such a favor.”
“She is more important than your quest? You would risk owing me a favor rather than her, even if it jeopardizes what appears to be the reason
for your existence?”
Uthe set his jaw. “Can a Fae have enough honor to tailor his favor so it does not risk something that could do great harm?”
Keldwyn’s gaze narrowed. “A vampire, questioning a Fae’s honor? Is that not like a sewer rat impugning the intentions of a—
“Pure bred poodle. With painted toenails and wearing a tiara?” Uthe swept his gaze over the Fae’s finery, ignoring how appealing it looked on him.
Keldwyn came to his feet. As he did, a cold wind blasted through Uthe, sharp enough it stole his senses, blinded him, though for no more than a blink. When he focused again, Keldwyn stood before him in the far plainer but frustratingly no less tempting garb he’d worn to meet the Queen, the plain white tunic open at the throat, the snug trousers and laced boots. The tattooing was gone, leaving his face chiseled as smooth stone, his hair pulled back in a sleek tail to emphasize the harsh expression.
“Your anger is misplaced, my lord.”
“Is it? How do you react to having your queen threatened?”
Keldwyn blinked. “I am no enemy to Lady Lyssa. I have never been her enemy. Favors form links, my lord. Those links often can be the only thing that keep us on the right path.”
“Then consider the one she offered you another link in my chain to you, my lord. Release her from it. Whatever you need, I will give, as long as—”
“It does not countermand God’s will. I know. I have an excellent memory.”
Keldwyn tried to conceal it, but as soon as the words left the Fae Lord’s mouth, Uthe caught his subtle flinch, the flash of regret. Despite the sudden tension between them and the uneasy quagmire within him, Uthe couldn’t help smiling. “It’s good that one of us does. That is the first time I’ve seen you put your foot in your mouth, my lord. Perhaps having your cock properly serviced diminishes your cleverness. I’ll have to remember that.”
Keldwyn harrumphed at that, took a seat again. “Those are the only symptoms you’ve yet experienced with any significance, correct? Disorientation and occasional lapses in memory?”
“And serious lapses in judgment in the company I keep,” Uthe muttered. From the corner of his eye he saw the male’s lips twitch. Uthe moved to the sink, stared down at the pink stain his blood had left. It was too much to hope that Keldwyn would let the subject go. “Were you here with me, the other night?” he asked before he could stop himself.
“I was.”
Uthe nodded, eyes back on his muted reflection. The relief that it hadn’t been a delusion wasn’t all because of his fear of the disease’s progress. It was just…relief. And he was far too content that Keldwyn was determined to accompany him on this first leg of his task. He had no reason to doubt that Keldwyn was serving Lyssa’s interests, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be serving his own Queen’s. He could have multiple reasons for staying so close to Uthe’s side. But Keldwyn looking after the Queen’s interests was honorable, what Uthe would expect of him. It was part of what he required of himself in his service to the Council and Lyssa, his own code of honor.
A Fae’s capricious nature might seem incompatible with the vampire idea of honor, but Uthe knew it wasn’t. He’d stepped on Kel’s honor now, just to confirm it. It was something he respected, even as he knew Keldwyn was capable of straddling multiple roles—ally, enemy, impediment, danger, risk…or necessary friend.
God guide us both. This is too important for me to fail because of a weakness of the flesh. But it wasn’t Keldwyn’s flesh that compelled Uthe so much. If it was, this would be far easier.
“So, this task you must do first.” Keldwyn spoke at last and nodded to the chest. “Where are we going, Lord Uthe?”
Though the Fae Lord remained in his chair, the way he met Uthe’s gaze when Uthe turned to face him made him feel much closer. Uthe took a breath.
“Syria.”
Chapter Six
A private plane was not a problem. Negotiating foreign air space and landing in the remote area that was their destination, even less so. Uthe had maintained the necessary contacts to open doors as needed.
He’d seen a couple of documentaries—what Lord Brian derisively called junk science—that speculated on the secrets the Templars might have kept to the present day. As with most conspiracy theories, the truth was further off the rails than they supposed, and far less dramatic than they hoped. While there were organizations like the Masons that publicly claimed ancestry with the Templars, those descended from the original Order led normal lives with no traceable connections to the Templars, in order to be useful when needed: an air traffic controller, a pilot. As well as a government official who, when the key phrase was used, would make the proper adjustments, no questions asked, to ensure Uthe could fly into the country unchallenged.
Once used, the phrase was changed for all. It was communicated to those who needed to know in a variety of ways. Carrier pigeon, coded correspondence, a cryptic telephone call couched as a wrong number. In the 1800s, Uthe had received such a code change from a young pickpocket with serious brown eyes and a face so burned he looked like he wore a mask. But his smile was happy and carefree, and he took the tip Uthe gave him with a grin before he disappeared into the crowd.
He suspected some of the descendants kept in closer contact with one another, working on more widespread efforts related to ancient Templar interests and influence, but he hadn’t been part of any of that since the Battle of Hattin. He’d merely maintained the necessary connections to serve the singular charge he’d been assigned by Hugh. Early on, when he’d optimistically believed the charge would be accomplished sooner rather than later, he’d wondered what he would do after the task was done, how he could continue to serve his oath. Now he didn’t have to worry about that, since his mind would not be reliable enough for anything by the time this was done. Well, amend that. God willing, it would wait until the task was done to become pea soup.
Not surprisingly, it was somewhat of a relief to have his second most closely guarded secret known by one other. It helped that Keldwyn had not remarked upon it further, nor treated Uthe any differently because of it. Rhoswen had only granted Uthe access to the Fae world for his official quest there, so he could not take advantage of the portals that Keldwyn could to make the trip from Savannah to Damascus. He and Keldwyn had parted ways at the Savannah portal, yet when Uthe stepped off the plane to make the connection to the private charter that would take them to their destination in Syria, Keldwyn was already waiting on him. Much like during Uthe’s morning sun ritual, it was as if he’d always been there, a step ahead, waiting.
The oath Uthe had made to him seemed to be creating the biggest change between them. The Fae Lord had demanded nothing further of him yet. However, the warmth of Keldwyn’s gaze upon their reunion showed he was enjoying the opportunity to look at Uthe as his sexual conquest. Even after they boarded the charter and took their seats across from one another, he felt the male’s close regard. Uthe closed his eyes to meditate, then pray for guidance. When he at last opened his eyes, he bit back a chuckle. Keldwyn had opened a tattered copy of The Fellowship of the Ring and was reading it. “Is that from Jacob’s personal library?”
“It is. He recommended I take the whole trilogy, since he indicated I would wish to know how the story turned out.”
“You’re so well read, I’m surprised you haven’t read it.”
“There are more stories to be read than days in an immortal lifespan.” Keldwyn shifted, bracing his foot on the edge of Uthe’s seat, between his spread knees. His attention followed a straight track from there to Uthe’s groin. “You are wearing the jeans again today. A different pair, but still black.” He slid his foot forward, braced the ball of it against Uthe’s testicles, a teasing pressure he increased, eyes tracking Uthe’s response to the discomfort. Uthe had to suppress the desire to push against him, rub, but he didn’t conceal his reaction well enough.
Keldwyn’s gaze increased its heat. “You enjoy some pain.”
Imagining how much f
urther Keldwyn could go, Uthe suspected he might enjoy a lot of pain, but he had no intention of revealing that. Keldwyn cocked his head. “Did you scourge yourself, my lord? Inflict penance on yourself in the service of your Lord as the monks do?”
“Most penances like that were forbidden to Templars because we had to stay battle ready.”
“Interesting. Most would have said the Templars were exempt from the penances, not forbidden from indulging them. Did you crave the touch of the lash, Lord Uthe? The Lord’s punishment? Or simply…a Master’s punishment?”
Uthe ignored the electric sparks of sensation pinging his insides. The hardening of his cock was as much from Keldwyn’s words as the teasing pressure of his foot. “You are a Dominant, my lord. As a vampire, I understand your desires. I can meet them in accordance with my oath to you.”
Keldwyn’s knowing expression obliterated the calming effect of the prayer on Uthe’s mind. “A clever evasion. And I’ve no doubt you can.”
Keldwyn had been right about Uthe’s ability to control his response in the company of women. He enjoyed their bodies and the release, but being goaded by Keldwyn, kissed by him, produced an explosive sexual reaction impossible to conceal or contain. The secure walls around his mental celibacy hadn’t been challenged so decisively in some time.
He’d initially attributed his attraction to Keldwyn to weakness. He’d told himself it wasn’t Keldwyn specifically, but all the distractions and concerns he faced now that had made him vulnerable. Perhaps even the lowering of inhibitions that came with the Ennui were contributing to the problem. What worried him was not those theories, but how much he wanted them to be rationalizations, a lie he was telling himself. He wanted his absorption with Keldwyn to be unique to the Fae Lord and what temptations he offered Uthe.