Cantrips: Volume #2: Minor Magics Crafted to Amuse and Entertain

by Joey W. Hill

  Thomas grinned. “Sometimes it’s the first thing you need.” Then he sobered as Marcus handed him the star. Taking it in reverent hands, he fixed it to the top of the tree with the twist ties Marcus handed him.

  When Thomas stepped down, they looked at it together, shoulder to shoulder. But then Thomas turned his head and looked at Marcus’s profile, long enough that Marcus slanted him a glance. “Pet?”

  “Beautiful, but it hurts,” Thomas murmured. “I know just what he means.”

  “I know you do. Every true artist knows exactly what those words mean. And I thank God for it, and you, even if I don’t ever thank Him for too much else.” Sliding a hand to his nape, Marcus turned Thomas toward him. At the look in his Master’s eye, the powerful things twisting in Thomas’s chest started to descend lower.

  “I didn’t decorate the tree with you,” Marcus said. “But I can decorate you.”

  Stepping away, he tugged the box of extra lights, ornaments, hooks and various other decorations out from behind the sofa. A box Thomas distinctly remembered putting away before Julie’s arrival. “Strip, pet. I plan to have you under the tree, after I tie you up in some lights. If you’re lucky, I might just pour a little hot chocolate on those sensitive nipples of yours, lick it off your cock. I want you at my mercy the rest of the night.”

  “Are you sure—”

  Thomas sucked in a gasp as Marcus moved fast, taking him down to the carpet, pressing his body full against him, those green eyes close again. “Have you ever known me not to be sure when it comes to fucking you, pet?”

  “No, sir.” Thomas was glad he’d gone with the address when those green eyes deepened to emerald, the distracting lips curving. He’d noticed Marcus was like that. After sharing deep memories, it was as if he had to take Thomas over, take him hard and overwhelm him, to reassure himself that he was still in control, that Thomas wasn’t going to disappear when he let the demons loose. But Thomas had his own response to that. Lifting his hands to Marcus’s face, Thomas framed it, fingers firm and conveying that he was here. Always.

  Things got quiet and intense as Marcus put one hand over Thomas’s, linked fingers and squeezed, message received. That eased the harder edge to his expression. But not too much, thank God. When Thomas brought those linked hands down, it was to kiss Marcus’s. It was his left hand, so he put his lips over Marcus’s wedding ring, kissing it reverently, but providing a tiny tease of the flesh with his tongue.

  “I’m at your mercy every day, Master.”

  Marcus’s eyes gleamed, a moment before he pinned Thomas’s hands out to either side of him.

  “Then as far as I’m concerned, every fucking day is Christmas, pet.”

  The End

  The Season of Giving

  A vignette featuring Kane, Farida and John, characters from the Vampire Queen Series.

  Originally posted 12/22/2014

  Background: When this vignette was written, Kane, Farida and John were all children in the series. Kane is Lyssa and Jacob’s son, and John is the grandson of Lyssa’s majordomo, Elijah Ingram. Farida is Mason and Jessica’s daughter. When it came time to write the 2014 vignette, I thought it would be fun to jump a couple decades in the future and see what these three would be like as young adults—and provide some speculation about a future book for them.

  * * *

  “The gift is a custom order. I didn’t want to have a servant pick it up. I want to pick it up myself, to make sure it’s what I ordered for my parents.” Farida sighed. “What’s so wrong with that? It’s the Atlanta mall, not Afghanistan.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Kane gave her a look. “If something happens to me, my father won’t remove all your appendages in the most painful way imaginable.”

  “Everyone thinks my dad is so scary. He’s not so bad.”

  Kane and John exchanged a rolled eye look before Kane turned his attention back to their female friend. “You’ve never seen that side of Lord Mason,” he said with exaggerated patience. “He’d hide my detached arms behind his back and say, ‘Oh, we’re just chatting, pumpkin pie. Run along and get a snack from your mother.’”

  “He does not call me pumpkin pie,” she retorted and swatted at him. He intercepted the hand and squeezed it, an automatic reproof, though he noticed the faint scrape of her nails on his palm before she drew back and sent him a haughty look.

  “I’m more concerned about your mother, Kane,” John interrupted dryly. “If something happens to you, Lady Lyssa will strangle me with my own intestines. One less human in the world. Big deal.”

  “Not a chance,” Farida disagreed. “She’s the smartest vampire alive. She knows it’s Kane who instigates the trouble. You just go along to do damage control the best you can.”

  Kane scowled at her. “Yeah, because no one would suspect we ducked out to go to the mall because little Miss Perfect Princess insisted on doing her own shopping instead of having Amazon deliver.” He shot a glance at John. “Plus, don’t hand me that shit. You know you’re safe, because my mother likes you better than she likes me. Remember the Christmas when you had more gifts under the tree than I did?”

  “Are you ever going to let that go? It was almost fifteen years ago. I was turning eighteen and entering college in the spring semester. You were eleven. It wasn’t a milestone year for you. Selfish prick.”

  Kane shrugged. Under normal circumstances, it would have been their usual banter, nothing more. But this time the jibe pricked a little sharper. Since John had returned home from college for the holidays, they hadn’t really hit their usual stride with each other. John had been his second mark for such a long time, so they could talk in one another’s minds even while he was off at college. They hadn’t done as much of that lately, either. John had been busy and Kane… Well, he didn’t want to talk.

  “Boys.” Always intuitive, Farida offered them both a radiant smile and linked her arms through the crook of their elbows. “Stop pretending you aren’t having just as much fun as I am, getting out of the house for a few hours on our own. How long has it been since you were at this mall, Kane?”

  “A while. Maybe twenty years. We moved to Savannah soon after the last time I was here. I think they’ve added a couple floors since then.” Kane frowned, surveying the multi-level mall. Though he suspected it had all been renovated since his last visit, he vaguely remembered the nearby toy store. He remembered a train trundling through the store, big enough to carry passengers under the age of six. He moved forward, taking the other two with him, and a smile crossed his face as a train emerged at the front, made the turn on its track and then carried the children back into the bowels of the store. Its route probably took them past strategically arranged merchandise.

  Since so many things seemed to be changing this year, it was reassuring to find something that hadn’t, reminding him of the many pleasant memories he had of the Christmas season. This was the time of year when his mother and Jacob were able to put aside Council demands and vampire politics and enjoy time at home with their small group of trusted friends and family. Like tonight, when they were out at the symphony with Farida’s parents, Lord Mason and his servant Jessica, who had joined them at Lyssa’s Atlanta estate for the week.

  Kane’s glance strayed back to Farida, one of the exceptional pleasures of the last couple Christmases. They stayed in touch throughout the year, through emails, texts and even the occasional letter. Farida liked the old-fashioned art of calligraphy, since she said it made her imagine she was a Victorian heroine, sending him penned letters with the fine swirls and scrolls. But having her here, face to face, was best.

  The minute they’d arrived from the airport, she’d emerged from the car, run to him and thrown herself into his arms to give him an exuberant hug. Usually she followed up the affection with a punch in his stomach or a slap upside his head that made his ears ring. Her eyes had widened, mouth pursing a little in surprise when he anticipated her this year, catching her hand and spinning her so her back was against h
im, arms crossed over her chest and wrists firmly locked by his. He’d been tempted to tease the shell of her delicate ear with his lips, his body tightening at the feel of her against him, but instead he’d stuck his tongue in her ear, and then let her give chase to him through the house, the pack of Irish wolfhounds that always traveled with them chasing them both joyously.

  Hell, having her here pleased him. Having both of them here pleased him. Maybe he should just focus on that so he didn’t ruin it for all of them.

  When John met his gaze over Farida’s head, Kane let his lips quirk in the fond, exasperated expression they’d often shared as children. The expression that said, yeah, she’s a brat, but she’s our brat.

  John grinned, his expression easing, making Kane wonder if his second mark was battling some of the same thoughts. He didn’t know for sure, because he and John had a pact. Either of them could initiate mental conversation, but Kane wasn’t supposed to cruise around in John’s head when John wasn’t talking to him. Kane had gone along with that, mostly. But some nights, especially lately, he dipped in there, just to hear the comforting sound of John studying a few states away, putting together amazing equations and theories Kane understood as well as Swahili written in pig latin. But it helped him sleep.

  Feeling Farida’s eyes on him, he set that aside and closed his eyes, remembering more about that long ago childhood shopping trip. His father had lowered him into one of the train cars. He recalled the smell of his mother as she touched his face, the comforting soundtrack of his parents’ conversation as he rode in a stroller through the stores, alive with the sights and sounds of Christmas.

  Tonight the mall was decked out with huge displays of poinsettias and animatronic snow scenes with elves and reindeer. Big sparkling snowflakes hung from satin blue ribbons from the high ceilings. The skating rink, which could be viewed from the rails of any of the upper levels of the mall, had an imprint of a laughing Santa Claus under the ice.

  “We should go ice skating,” Farida said. “I mean, we’re here anyway. And you left a note, so they’ll know where we are. It wasn’t technically forbidden to leave the house while they were gone…right?”

  Kane knew why they were all uncomfortable, seeking reassurance from one another. Born vampires in their twenties didn’t go out without the protection of their parents or an older vampire, but neither of them were little any more, where they might be snatched by a vampire wanting a precious born vampire baby. The bloodlust thing could be an issue if it was triggered, but he’d fed earlier in the evening. He’d taken it from one of the second marks in the house he now routinely used for his meals. It was the first time he hadn’t sought it from John when he was home, and of course John had noticed. Kane had tried to be casual about it, saying that the servant had already set aside some blood for him in the fridge, but he’d seen John’s speculative look.

  He shifted, aware that he shouldn’t be thinking about this so much. He’d been all for doing this when Farida suggested it, but now that they were here he was suddenly, keenly aware that he was responsible for their protection, Farida and John’s both. On one hand, it felt good to have that responsibility, any kind of responsibility, rather than being someone else’s responsibility. However, the reality was a little…new.

  But seriously, as Farida herself had said, what could go wrong? Even though his mother could be in his mind and therefore indirectly his father could, when Kane turned twenty-five earlier in the year, Kane had won a promise from Lady Lyssa similar to his and John’s agreement. She’d promised to keep her forays into his mind limited to the surface, just to be sure he was okay, not following his thoughts moment by moment. It had been an indirect vote of confidence from her.

  So as long as everything stayed even keel, they should be fine. They hadn’t been told they couldn’t go out. Damn it, he was a man, and they were picking up a gift from the goddamned mall, no more than a thirty minute drive from home. His uncle would say sack up and stop being such a baby. Okay, maybe not about this situation, because Gideon could be just as protective as everyone else about Kane and Farida, but in Kane’s mind the sneering admonition still applied.

  He’d hesitated too long. Farida was looking a little uncertain, paler. That stiffened his spine like nothing else could. No one was going to hurt her with him around.

  “No, you’re probably right,” he said casually. “We should go back to the house. You might need a diaper change.”

  The look from her glittering amber eyes could have shrunk a lesser man’s testicles. She might deny knowing about Lord Mason’s savage side, but she’d inherited that look from him for certain. Though Jessica could be pretty intimidating when the moment called for it. Intimidating for a human servant, that is.

  Until recently, he’d always thought of his own parents as his mother and father, not Lady Lyssa, Council Head, and Jacob, her human servant, but he was getting more conscious of the distinctions between vampires and mortals. He wondered if it was part of what his mother had warned him about, that he’d start experiencing changes in his twenties, bloodlust impulses tangled with vacillating emotions similar to hormone surges in a human teenager.

  You start feeling your strength, unwisely before you are ready to exercise it, so it’s essential you watch your temperament and your choice of words during this time of your life.

  Great. John was almost two decades past puberty and Kane was just entering it, vampire-style. He had to be so careful of a lot of things. It felt like he was in a schoolroom, learning his letters, while the rest of the world accelerated.

  He shrugged irritably. He was wasting this moment thinking about all of that. They were here. They might as well enjoy it.

  He wandered with them to the rail and leaned on it, him and John flanking Farida, her slim hands clasped on the top rung. She wore a silver and amber ring on her middle finger, and her nails, touched with a crystal polish, were slightly longer than her fingertips. They tightened on the metal as she watched the ice skaters circle. “Oh, look at her.” Farida pointed at one girl in a blue skating costume as she did a leap and twirl in the air, and landed gracefully. “I’d like to learn how to do that. I’d be a famous skater who wins the Olympics three times before disappearing mysteriously to mask my lack of aging. Or we could be a team.” She nudged Kane. “You’d look good in one of those tight, sparkly suits.”

  “Yeah, that’s never going to happen. I wouldn’t mind seeing you in one of those dresses though.” Leaning down, he caught her earlobe in his teeth and brushed his lips along her sweet nape, eliciting a shiver and a look at him from behind her dark glasses. Like most vampire females, there was nothing subtle about her beauty, extraordinary enough to cause most mortal males to lose their train of thought and walk into walls. Her thick chestnut hair was normally loose, thick and waving around her delicate face. She had Jessica’s slim build but generous breasts for her frame. She’d downplayed all of it, though, with a pair of jeans, a purple T-shirt and a ball cap. Pulling her hair into a pony tail and concealing her amber eyes behind the glasses helped, but she had an air about her that would still catch a man’s eye. Hell, her scent alone was enough, and he had an exceptional sense of smell.

  She held his gaze as if knowing the direction of his thoughts, and her small pink mouth pursed thoughtfully. They’d been doing this awhile, what for vampires was low key flirting. Because of their carnal natures, sex wasn’t that big of a deal, most vampires already sexually active by the age of sixteen, but something had held him back with Farida, and not just because they were actually on the same continent only two or three times a year. The closest they’d gotten to sex with each other was last year, when his family had visited hers in South America. One night, he’d come looking for her and found her feeding in bed, twined around a young second mark female with long-lashed dark eyes, olive coloring and yards of thick black hair. When Farida had invited him to join them for the meal, seeing the two women twined together was something no male would resist.

  T
he human, Sarita, worked with Mason’s horses, her body lean and toned, skin smelling sweetly of soap. Then there’d been Farida’s more exotic scent. She’d kept the girl in between them and had stayed clothed, whereas Sarita was blissfully naked and accessible. Even so, her aroused, slick cunt wasn’t what Kane had wanted. He’d reached over her, dug his fingers into Farida’s nape and caught her mouth with his own for a fang-clashing, tongue-stroking kiss as the servant nuzzled his throat, nipped and rubbed herself against his cock. When he’d thrust into Sarita, Farida’s lips had parted as if he’d thrust into her.

  But they’d known one another so long, it felt like the actual thing needed to be more special. So they kept it at this not-so-playful level. In a weak moment, he’d talked about it with Jacob.

  “The one thing you have is time, Kane. Let her grow up, and you grow up, too. Hormones may say rush, but I think you know how to deal with those until the time is right.”

  Yeah, he had a way to deal with his hormones. All he had to do was think about how he had to be with his parents or one of his relatives or godparents, to go and do anything. The first time he took someone that mattered to his bed, it wasn’t going to be when he was still under their roof and considered a damn baby, needing a sitter.

  As Farida continued to point out things about the skaters, his gaze scanned the crowd. When he realized he was doing that on instinct, staying aware of his surroundings, it reassured him, reminding him he’d had rigorous training from his father, mother and Uncle Gideon. As well as Lord Daegan, the vampire to whom his uncle belonged and one of the scariest vampires he knew. Even more dangerous than his mother. Maybe.

  He hadn’t decided to go out on his own tonight to be petulant, to prove “nothing could happen.” He knew it could. He wasn’t some reckless kid. He would stay vigilant. They could let him out on occasion on his own. If an overzealous Christmas shopper could trigger his bloodlust, he’d turn in his car keys and not show his face outside of home until he turned fifty.