by SJ Himes
“You will answer me!” Angel screamed, throat hurting, and he pulled more of the veil into himself and set it crashing along the weak link to the beast. It screamed in turn, collapsing to the floor, and it submitted at last.
Silence fell, and Angel rushed forward, the deafening quiet muffling everything, even his own breaths. Angel kept his hand up, and his will on the beast and Angel scuffed the circle on the floor, kicking apart the broken pieces of the jar that had held the complete summoning spell. It was an impressive yet foolhardy example of spellcasting, a masterpiece composed by a fool who did not know any better. It may have been Daniel, it may not, but Angel now had the beast under his control and did not need the haphazard summoning circle to stop it.
He could not send it back; not with the geas attached to it still, and from the memories he’d seen in Daniel’s mind, the boy had not placed the geas—it did not take magic to do so, as all a sorcerer had to do was summon a demon, any demon, and allow anyone present to give the beast its first command, the geas. Once done, the geas would remain in place until the demon was killed, which was almost impossible, or the one who gave it the geas was dead or willingly absolved the demon from its task.
What Angel could do was change the shape of the geas. The task for this beast was to kill Angel—he was the focus, the lodestone for the demon’s task. All he had to do was change the task, and keep the focus on him.
“Eroch, child of the void, hear me, and be at peace. Peace, child of the abyss, I lift from you the pain, the torture. Be thyself, free from bonds of violence. Hear me, and become as you should be,” Angel whispered, standing over the beast, its size huge and dwarfing him. It gave a keen, a hollow wail of pain, and shuddered.
It shrank. Gray scales shimmered, turned a deep emerald green, a wave of verdant light flowing over its hide as it became smaller, limbs shrinking, the dreadful beast softening, the pain leaving its body as it twitched and chirped.
From murderer to devoted companion. Angel was still the focus of the demon’s task, but the task was new.
Angel knelt, and with a slow, careful breath, picked up the small dragon, its yellow eyes blinking slowly, so tired and exhausted. Without the geas upon it demanding it commit murder contrary to its innate nature, Angel’s control over it granted the beast its free will. The demon resumed the wild shape it held in its home dimension. The tiny dragon was the size of a housecat, emerald and scaled, with four legs and two small, perfect wings upon its shoulders, its tail twice as long as its body and winding around Angel’s arm. It chirped, frightened, confused, and Angel sighed, exhausted himself as he got to his feet.
Angel was still the focus of the demon’s task, but the task was new. Angel soothed Eroch, the tiny dragon so confused and lost, and he felt horrible himself. He was still its master—and the dragon may now be itself, but it was still just as trapped.
“Forgive me, Eroch, child of the wild skies,” he whispered, and the tiny head lifted to look him in the face, and it nodded, curling into him, eyes closing. He would give it peace and protection until he could kill their mutual enemy.
He held Eroch gently and turned to the rest of the room.
Shock was the least of the expressions sent his way. Dumbfounded and frightened were the most prevalent, the vampires and the few brave remaining souls in the room all staring at him. All but one, at least.
Simeon shook off Batiste, the Master just as shocked as the rest of the room, and Angel smiled as his lover approached. Simeon stepped over the debris and the scorched floor and took Angel in his arms, sleepy dragon and all.
“You are a marvel,” Simeon whispered in his ear, clutching him close.
“I love you too,” Angel said, and laughed, utterly exhausted.
Batiste approached, as Simeon pulled back and gave Angel a sweet smile, his lover’s eyes shadowed by worry and affection.
“Daniel Macavoy is now mine, Master Batiste. I claim him as my apprentice,” Angel stated, his words ricocheting around the room, stilling all movement. “As per our agreement, anyone I claim as mine is under my protection and immune to violence from you and your people.”
“Are you certain, necromancer? Such a one would be as a viper in your home—certain to poison you at its first chance,” Batiste said, glancing to where Daniel lay unconscious, before turning his gaze to the slumbering beast in his arms. “Though any man who can turn a demon into a pet may not need to worry about such trivial things as betrayal.”
“Let me worry about my house. You should be worrying about yours,” Angel retorted and smirked at Batiste. “Etienne is Deimos.”
Chapter Eleven
Love In Death’s Embrace
“Be careful with him, dammit!” Angel scolded the blood-servants who carried Daniel into the spare room in Simeon’s suite. They put him on the bed, and removed his burnt and bloodstained clothing, stripping the boy down to his underwear before pulling the covers up to his chin.
“The doctor is on his way,” Simeon said, entering the room and coming to Angel’s side. “We have one on call for emergencies.”
“Blood loss something the doctor probably sees a lot, then?” Angel said, hoisting Eroch up to his shoulder, the tiny dragon winding his tail loosely around Angel’s neck before going back to sleep. “I need to talk to Batiste.”
“He’s still here,” Simeon replied, leading the way back out to the front room. Batiste was standing at a window, staring down at the streets, and even nine stories up the flashes of red and blue from the ambulances and police cars below reached up into the suite, glancing off the ceiling.
“Tell me why Etienne is Deimos,” Batiste demanded, and even Angel heard the order under the steely words.
“I saved Daniel. He was dying and was I able to slip inside when his defenses were down. It’s something I can do with my students if they get lost in their magic—I subsume their wills, and while I was healing Daniel, I was reading his mind,” Angel explained, stroking Eroch when the dragon chirped in fear, responding to Angel’s mood. “I saw Etienne approach him, take him from his home and bring him here as a new blood slave. He never actually drank from the boy, just made it look like Daniel was his newest toy. Somehow he fed the boy lies, said I was solidifying my power base here in the clan, and would be coming after what was left of my enemies once I was in good with the vampires. Etienne charmed the boy—he is poorly trained, not surprising considering his family is persona non grata here in town, much like my own, and he lacked for anyone to teach him. Leicaster is a drunk and a recluse, and couldn’t give Daniel a proper education. Etienne was able to sway Daniel, and convince him I was going to kill him if I bonded with Simeon before taking over the clan.”
Angel glanced at Simeon, who gave him a small smile, and Angel took the hand Simeon held out to him. “How long have you all known Bridgerton was coming?”
“He sent queries six months ago about joining my clan,” Batiste answered, turning from the windows, hands in his pockets, watching Angel. “Why?”
“How long has Etienne been a part of your clan?” Angel asked instead of answering, and Batiste tightened his jaw in annoyance, but he replied.
“Nine years. I made him an Elder eight years ago,” Batiste snapped, impatient.
“Where did he come from?” Angel asked though he knew the answer. He’d seen it in Daniel’s mind. He wondered if Batiste knew, though.
“Etienne is from France,” Batiste said. “He came here from Paris.”
Angel shook his head and sighed. “You made Etienne an Elder because his ability to charm humans and supernats is uniquely powerful, didn’t you? Etienne rarely needs to fight—he can charm his enemies into submission. Anyone not as strong as him he can make into puppets. Much like you, actually.”
Batiste was quiet, listening.
“Etienne is the legate from Providence, the vampire who betrayed his clan and sold them to the Macavoys. That’s how he got Daniel to trust him so fast, and why his charms lasted so long on the boy—Daniel kne
w him already. So Etienne’s twisted tale of the evil Angelus Salvatore had more weight behind it. Etienne took the role of another vampire coming here from France, and joined your clan, hiding in plain sight. He was able to charm his way to the top. That was working, right up until you moved your clan to Boston.”
“And we began our relationship with you,” Batiste murmured. “Simeon began his long courtship, and you came here more and more. Every time you came here, Etienne…Deimos ran the risk of exposing himself.”
“Yeah, but he wasn’t worried about me, not at all—my aversion to talking about the tragedy is well known, and you’d already ordered your clan to leave that topic alone. He was hidden, and one undead slot away from the top of the pile. Deimos was content to stay there, right up until you started fielding inquiries from Bridgerton to move here.”
“What does Bridgerton have to do with Etienne trying to kill you?” Simeon asked, and Angel squeezed his lover’s hand, reassuring him.
“Think about it. Bridgerton is an arrogant ass. He wants to come here, to a clan that is the sole powerbase for vampires in the city, and only has two Elders. Atlanta is one of the biggest cities in the country, and the city has multiple clans in it. Too much competition, right?” Simeon and Batiste both nodded, following along. “So Bridgerton comes here. He makes no attempt to hide his plans. I bet the both of you, and Etienne, discussed the likelihood that the guy would challenge for Elder, yeah?”
Simeon gave a short nod, and Batiste bristled, but he agreed.
“The only thing Etienne… Deimos has as a weapon is his super charm. Bridgerton is old, scary old, and while Deimos is old, I can bet Bridgerton has him outclassed. He wouldn’t be able to keep the new guy from challenging him—I mean, that was the consensus downstairs, I saw you all. Bridgerton came here to challenge and kill Etienne for his place as Elder, and he has nothing to defend himself with.”
“So why the boy? Why try to kill you? Why any of this?” Batiste snarled at him, and Angel rubbed his face, chuckling.
“You already know the answer. Tell me, Batiste, why are you so comfortable with Simeon bonding with me, why allow me to stay in this city unmolested? Why build a relationship with me at all? Why do you want me in this clan?”
Batiste snarled quietly, backing away, returning to the windows and looking down again, then out to the city. Angel waited, but he got his answer. “I want you in this clan because you are powerful. No other clan will move against me, no one will challenge me, while I can claim you as one of my people. With you, and the secret you hold to our mass destruction, this clan is unassailable.”
Simeon hissed and hovered over Angel. He rubbed Simeon’s chest, soothing his lover. “It’s alright, Simeon. I knew this the second he tried his bullshit this morning.”
“He is mine, Batiste. You cannot have him,” Simeon warned his master, and Angel grinned, impressed.
“Don’t worry, I swear he won’t try anything stupid. Blind as he may have been to Etienne’s duplicity, I have a feeling your master isn’t a total fool. Douche, sure, but not a fool.”
“Get to the point, necromancer! I have a clan to restore to order,” Batiste snapped, still staring out over the city.
“Long story short—Etienne gets to Macavoy in an attempt to get a sorcerer he can control. The boy tries, unsuccessfully, to become one of my students to learn how I killed so many vamps. Deimos wanted Daniel to learn the mystery spell, and then with Daniel under his control, he was either going to solidify his place as Elder or even make a move for clan master. Daniel fails to get me to take him on, not surprising since he acted like a little shit—probably fear talking, but I took it as attitude. Meanwhile, Simeon and I are getting closer, and Etienne’s chance to get to me is slipping away. He goes out to the city, and falls back on his backup plan—building his own clan and killing me. If I die, then Simeon is left devastated and weak, and Bridgerton would be likely to challenge Simeon instead of Etienne.” They nodded, Simeon frowning fiercely.
“He is the rogue in town, which all three of us suspected. Slow and stupid, but with enough numbers he could get himself a fairly strong bulwark between himself and Bridgerton. Deimos goes after Greg Doyle, using Daniel, to test just how secure the promise is between myself and Simeon, even Batiste. I bet the only vampire to ask too many questions about me, to raise any complaint has been Etienne, yes? He wanted to see if he could get away with killing me or taking me, and what the clan’s reaction would be if I either ended up dead or missing.”
Simeon was listening, a frown on his face, but he was nodding. Batiste had turned from the glass, now watching him as well. “Meanwhile, Daniel is freaked out. He decides to try and break Simeon and I up—if I give my allegiance to Simeon, then any chance Etienne has of learning it from me by force or subterfuge is gone. My powerbase gets added to Simeon’s, and Etienne loses any chance he had against Bridgerton, and Daniel thinks my way is clear to enact my evil plan. They decide to try and kill me, since by this time, they already have August, and torturing him isn’t getting him to talk. Again, I die, Simeon is weakened, and Etienne has a better chance of Bridgerton challenging Simeon instead of him.”
Eroch chirped, and snuggled closer.
“It’s the whole premise, ‘if we can’t have the secret weapon, no one can!’ and they send the demon for me. I banish it,” Angel said, petting Eroch where he slept on his shoulder, Simeon and Batiste both glancing at the slumbering dragon for a second. “They try and get to me through August next. Thinking I’d go insane after watching my old mentor die and throw away caution, Deimos kills him in front of me and waits for me to blunder into his trap. Instead, Milly keeps me from losing my shit, and I retreat.”
“Why didn’t I recognize his scent on August’s body?” Simeon asked brow wrinkled in confusion.
“Daniel warped Etienne’s scent. It’s not permanent, it returns eventually to his natural aroma. It’s why no one was able to learn who the rogue was killing around town, and why you didn’t recognize Etienne on August. Daniel has also been using his few family connections to rile up the Collins and the police—he’s been telling them lies, fed to him by Etienne, claiming I’m about to take over the city in a mad scheme for power. The Collins control the police, and they were ordered by the heir to the Macavoys to not hunt the rogue vampire. The Macavoys may not have the power they once did a decade ago, but they have plenty of sway with their kin. It’s why the cops have been after me too.”
“Why claim the boy as yours, then?” Simeon asked him, his thumb rubbing over the back of Angel’s knuckles.
“Because that boy has next to no family left—he was orphaned, same as I was, and while his father may live, he hasn’t been an actual parent to Daniel in ten years. That boy was left vulnerable, and Etienne took him over and abused him. Daniel began to realize over the last couple of days that Etienne, or Deimos—was full of shit, and was just using him. Daniel is terrified, and he has blood on his hands by helping Deimos and his mad schemes. That kid needs saving, not punishment.”
“Etienne will face my punishment. He will not escape his crimes,” Batiste said, and Angel was cheered by the rage on his face.
“Good, because I’m going to kill the motherfucker. I made a promise to an old friend,” Angel vowed, and Simeon grinned, a feral smile that sent heat throughout Angel.
“Where is he, Daniel?” Angel asked the boy, who was pale and weak, though awake. His eyes were nearly black, dark circles under them, his lips almost blue. The doctor had come and gone, attaching a unit of blood to an IV that ran into Daniel’s arm, replacing what he lost when Deimos ripped out his throat. If Daniel had peace and quiet and plenty of sleep, he would recover. Physically at least—Angel’s mind shied away from the memories he saw in Daniel’s mind, the horrors Deimos committed on the vulnerable young man merely reaffirming his desire to kill the rogue Elder.
The scars were still there, angry red and vibrant. Angel was no healer—he may be able to heal mortal wounds, but he rarely
had the chance to use that part of his affinity. Not many people lay dying in front of him on a regular basis. He would have done what he could for August, but his heart stopped before Angel even opened the door, placing him just past Angel’s reach. His own heart hurt thinking about it, but at least he could save Daniel.
Eroch was still about Angel’s neck, but he was awake, watching with bright yellow eyes, making little chirps and squeaks, commenting on everything around him. Angel had a feeling the little dragon had never had a chance to see this dimension without pain and a geas warping him, blinding him to the world, and the tiny creature was inquisitive and charming. Daniel barely reacted to the wee beastie, and Angel had to reach out and take Daniel’s hand to get the boy to look at him.
“Hey, kiddo,” Angel said, and Daniel focused on him, licking his chapped lips and blinking, eyes clearing. “There you are. It’s okay, you’re safe. Deimos is gone, fled. The demon is no longer under your control or Deimos. I know everything, except where the bastard is hiding. Can you tell me?”
Daniel opened his mouth, and whispered, “Home.” His eyes shut, and he fell back asleep. Angel let him, standing from his partial crouch beside the boy’s bed.
“Home, huh? Whose home?” Angel mused, and he walked from the room. It was dawn—and he was exhausted. He needed sleep and food. Simeon waited outside the doorway, and Angel went into his arms gladly, accepting the strength offered so freely in the vampire’s embrace. Eroch chirped, and climbed from his shoulder to Simeon’s, sniffing at the Elder like a cat, his tiny snout poking at the vampire’s face.
Simeon held totally still, and Angel laughed, reaching up and taking Eroch back into his arms. “No climbing on the boyfriend,” Angel said, and Eroch chirped sadly, but Angel held him securely, hugging the tiny beast. “Shush, no cuteness overload please.”
“Is that thing safe?” Simeon asked warily, eyeing Eroch with caution.
“His name is Eroch, and he is fully sentient. Just not in any way humanoid, so don’t go applying our behavior to his, and you’ll be fine. He’s not a pet, but a friend,” Angel said, heading for Simeon’s room. Guards lined the hall and even more were in the front of the suite, guarding Angel and Daniel equally, insuring Etienne… Deimos, hell whoever he was couldn’t get back in. “Eroch will be fine. I need food then sleep, then we’re off to kill the evil vampire.”