by Joey W. Hill
"I should like to see your wings." He'd never seen them when they were alone, like this.
His own words startled him like the touch of electricity, for he'd had no intention of speaking them aloud. Where potential incineration by the sun couldn't rattle him, such a transgression sent his heart rate into a panicked sprint. Keldwyn's eyes narrowed. The irises were the color of onyx, but the sclera were vivid as the light of the moon, a glittering contrast. According to Lyssa, each Fae fell into the realm of an element and often a season. Keldwyn was most certainly of earth and autumn, his skin a light golden reflection of fall's melted afternoon sunlight.
"You have never asked anything of me, vampire. Except to go away."
"Perhaps I've decided a different tactic is necessary to accomplish that goal. I shall be just as annoying to you as you are to me."
A vampire's reflexes were keen, such that the slightest movement, even a breath, could draw his attention. So Uthe could have easily anticipated and drawn out of range when Keldwyn reached out. But he calculated a lack of reaction was safer, no matter what odd things it did to him inside as Keldwyn stroked long fingers along Uthe's short cap of dark hair. Once, a long time ago, it had been long, the dark brown reflecting sunlight in bronze strands.
"You have always worn it thus."
"A Templar does not adorn himself in flowing locks, or clothes of silk or velvet," Uthe said, deliberately sweeping his gaze over Keldwyn's appearance.
In contrast to Uthe's monochrome dark trousers and white tailored shirt, the cream-colored gossamer shirt the Fae wore had layers of ruffles down the front and billowing sleeves with draped cuffs. Lacings showed glimpses of his skin beneath the ruffles. The shirt was open at the throat. Keldwyn's lower body was clad in front flap brown trousers, laced on either side, the garment tight and thin enough to be considered hose or leggings. They displayed the musculature of haunch and leg well, until the snug hold of supple thigh-high boots took over, laced up the back and adorned with the faint impression of leaves. The style framed his groin conspicuously, for Fae males had little modesty about such things. It was clear he had a substantial enough cock to please a lover.
Kel made a noncommittal noise at Uthe's implied deprecation. He was using only his fingertips, yet every stroke sent a ripple of reaction along Uthe's scalp and down his spine, making his buttocks clench and his stomach coil. He hadn't reacted to touch, not without calculation, in a very long time. Since Keldwyn was demanding nothing of him, all it left him was the openness of feeling.
Keldwyn leaned closer, shifting along the wall. He appeared slim, but it was the svelteness of a cheetah. Power emanated from him, and it wasn't all from magic. When Kel wore a sleeveless jerkin on Savannah's hotter days, Uthe had been impressed by the carved musculature of his arms. Muscle mass didn't define the strength of a Fae, however, no more than it did a vampire. High Fae were more powerful than vampires, and that was before their magical abilities were called into play. Uthe had no doubt Keldwyn could pin him to the wall and hold him, though he was equally sure he could make it a difficult and interesting fight.
The startling lick of bloodlust that came from the thought warned him that he'd made the wrong move. Studied disinterest was the key to defeating Keldwyn's effect on him, and voicing a desire to see his wings was certainly contrary to that. But what was done was done.
Keldwyn's wings unfurled above his shoulders. At first, they looked like brown leaves that drifted to the ground in fall, edges curled, but as they spread out, the delicate inner web of veins was gold thread against smooth russet silk. Touches of red and yellow glittered among the gold, a melding of hues.
His shirt wasn't disturbed by the transformation. Managing the emergence of wings without disrupting one's wardrobe was a paltry magic to a Fae of Keldwyn's stature. Yet Uthe wondered at the texture of the wings. If he loosened the lacings, drew the shirt over his head, would the wings fold and twist like thick ribbons as the garment was pulled free of his body?
Uthe's gaze slid up to Keldwyn's. Keldwyn's breath was caressing his own parched mouth.
"You asked something of me, vampire. Now you give me something in return."
The Fae had very specific protocols on such things, not unlike vampires. Uthe would honor that protocol, prove he could do so with fixed control. Yet as Keldwyn drew ever closer, Uthe took in a breath a vampire didn't need. When Keldwyn's lips touched Uthe's, he stood firm. Though water surged up against a dam of feeling, he made the wall stand. He kept his eyes open, staring into Keldwyn's. As the tip of Keldwyn's tongue slid along a fang and the Fae male's hand curved behind his nape to hold him fast, he quivered, a heated breath escaping into Keldwyn's mouth.
"Kiss me back," the Fae said. "Or your selfishness will offend me."
Carefully measured offense wasn't a bad strategy. It might dissuade Keldwyn from this inexplicable obsession he had with Uthe. Yet Uthe couldn't bring himself to deny the Fae, and it wasn't because of the critical need to maintain good relations with the Fae world.
He didn't move his mouth, too much risk there, but he slid a hand over Keldwyn's upper arm, the taut biceps beneath silken fabric. He tunneled his fingers under the waterfall of shining black hair covering it. Softer than an animal's pelt, even thicker than Mariela's blonde hair. A vampire's beauty wasn't random; it was a predator's tool. While Fae didn't need to attract prey with their beauty, Uthe was sure Keldwyn's allure held even more risks than that of his own kind. A human might walk away from a vampire's touch, disoriented and weak from blood loss, but his soul would be intact. With Keldwyn, he wasn't so sure his own was as safe.
He became even more aware of the blood rushing through Keldwyn's body, the pumping artery at his throat. He wondered how a pure Fae's blood would taste.
If he was having such thoughts, he was hungry. His fingers were tangling in Keldwyn's hair, grip tightening on his arm, and his fangs were starting to lengthen. He needed to get to his chambers, summon Mariela to him to break his usual three-day fast between feedings.
Keldwyn drew back, hand moving to Uthe's shoulder. He had a silver and gold ring on his forefinger. The oblong amber stone in the setting had a curled rose petal captured in its depths. The petal was a dark blood red. Would his blood be the same color?
"You are intelligent and insightful," Keldwyn said. "Generous with your knowledge and advice, a male valued by your queen and the rest of the Council. Despite that, you keep all at arm's length. Yet today you have left a door unlocked you always guard so zealously. What has changed?"
Uthe jerked back. Keldwyn's expression flickered at the abrupt motion, but Uthe stepped away from him, moving to the trap door and lifting it on smooth hinges. This time when he met the Fae's gaze, his own was courteous and remote. "You are the liaison between our two species, Lord Keldwyn. Despite your own considerable ability to mask your intentions, I know that relationship matters to you. The Fae pastime of uncovering and twisting vulnerabilities for idle amusement should be subordinate to that charge. If your current intentions lie beyond our chess games and friendly debates, I would ask you to leave me in peace when Council business does not require contact between us."
It was a gracious nod to his own blame for the current situation. Over the past few months, he'd fallen into the habit of enjoying the Fae's company for meals, for debates of theology and philosophy, and the sharing of all kinds of books. It was a challenge not to reveal too much of himself during those discussions, but in that, Uthe was well-practiced. Even if the Fae was far more clever than most he usually had to fend off.
It had started with the best of intentions. Though the Rule, the guiding principles for the Templar Order, counseled silence with the admonition, "To talk too much is not without sin," it also acknowledged the importance of wisely chosen words: "Life and death are in the power of the tongue." He'd justified talking to Keldwyn as the requirements of his office, to learn more about the Fae. When he'd found Keldwyn a stimulating and interesting companion, Uthe had recalled the addi
tional warning that the Devil had a way of inserting himself into the best intentions.
The Fae was even more of a risk to his senses in potent silence. Keldwyn had asked Uthe about Templar practices he still observed. When there was no business to be conducted and he had a rare night to himself, Uthe embraced the habitual silence from evening compline to early morning matins. One far too memorable night, Keldwyn had observed the practice with him. He'd stayed with Uthe through his meditation and prayer, and had walked the forest with him, all in silence.
The Fae explored many things about the vampire world to increase his understanding of it. Through their discussions, Uthe knew Keldwyn had done similar things to understand other species he'd encountered through the years. He might have observed the evening silence with Uthe to get a better grasp of the Templar history and culture, because the Fae had that kind of keen, inquisitive mind. He was an interesting mix of scholar, tactician and warrior. However, when Uthe made the mistake of asking Keldwyn if that was his intent, Keldwyn merely said, "It teaches me more about you, my lord."
They also played chess and a variety of strategy games. Uthe taught Keldwyn those he'd learned over the years, Keldwyn offering up those played in the Fae world. Merelle, one of the few games the Templars had been permitted to play, didn't differ much from what Kel called shigreni. They both preferred chess, a game the Rule had forbidden, but chess between him and Keldwyn was far less likely to involve wagering or result in a fist fight. Sometimes they played the Fae version of it, juste.
Keldwyn had just pointed out why it was important to bring those seemingly innocuous pastimes to an end. They'd increased Uthe's pleasure in his proximity and resulted in this. Now, instead of merely imagining it, Uthe possessed the actual memory of the male's lips on his, the tease of his tongue. The unwelcome tightness to his loins was something he'd need Mariela to assuage with her lovely mouth so he didn't make an even greater transgression on his oath than her ministrations would be.
Non nobis sed nomini tuo da gloriam. Not to us but to Thy Name give the glory. Including the glory of maintaining a sacrosanct oath. Once he lived long enough, a man realized that his determination to honor an oath could turn into the sin of pride, especially if the oath became more important than the ultimate good he was supposed to be serving. Yet Uthe knew the difference between dispensations on the chastity oath to maintain his commitment to his primary charge, and rationalizations that allowed him to indulge in forbidden pleasure. Keldwyn was definitely a forbidden pleasure.
Uthe descended the curved stone stairwell, the door closing on silent hinges above him. He ducked and spun, bringing up his fist as a shadow swooped upon him, but it captured the fist, twisted it and shoved him against the wall. The stone scraped his cheek, taking skin so he left a smear of blood there. Uthe forced himself backwards in the narrow corridor, slamming Keldwyn against the wall behind him. They tumbled down the remaining stairs. He was back on his feet in an instant, but by the time he pivoted, Keldwyn had him again. He still had his wings out, which was a mistake. Uthe caught the edge of one, intending to tear it off if necessary.
He had time to register it was far more substantial than he'd expected, thick and resilient as a leather cloak, before a current rocketed through him. It illuminated the stairwell, making Keldwyn's dark eyes flash. The jolt yanked every nerve ending so hard Uthe thought they'd pierced his skin, and his muscles knotted in painful reaction. When it passed, Uthe was lying on the steps, the stone edges pressing into his shoulder blades and buttocks. His fist gripped the front of Keldwyn's shirt, his other wrist pinned to the stairs as Keldwyn leaned over him, body pressed against Uthe's chest and hip.
Uthe bit back a groan as Keldwyn completed the motion so he lay upon him, groin to groin. Keldwyn's knees pressed into the step below Uthe's hips, the Fae's body inserted between his legs. Keldwyn's noticeable assets had grown in size, his erection now insinuated against Uthe's cock, which refused his discipline. It was twitching to an even fuller size against Keldwyn's friction.
"You frustrate me," Keldwyn said pleasantly.
Uthe took that for the threat it was. He curled his lip, showing the tips of his fangs. "Is this about a sexual conquest, my lord? Will taking a Council member satisfy your need to feel superior to all of us?"
Keldwyn's eyes glowed in the dark. "I seek a true kiss from your mouth, Lord Uthe. The kiss you actually want to give me, not the one you permitted yourself to offer. I want inside that open door."
"You have no right to that."
"If you use that cold, courteous tone on me once more, you will offend me beyond where your God can help you." Power rippled through the Fae's body, forced so intimately against Uthe's.
Uthe wasn't the strongest vampire on the Council, but he knew he was among the top five of his species. As such, power games didn't come into play for him the way they once had. It had been a while since he'd received a challenge for dominance from another. And while that kind of challenge from another vampire always had a sexual component, dominance meant a great many other things in the vampire world. To Keldwyn, too, he expected, based on what he'd sensed about Keldwyn's sexual orientation for some time. Which was why Uthe had initially thought he'd have no trouble resisting him.
He had no room for any of this, particularly in his current circumstances. Yet an alarming part of him didn't care. It needed to give, to break loose. God help him. No, he was being weak. This wasn't something with which God should have to help him. Never before, not until recently. He'd always been able to manage it. But...
With a snarl that echoed through the stone stairwell in hollow mockery, Uthe broke open a valve in the dam. The rush was sweet, icy cold, bringing pain and the desire for more. He thrust both hands into Keldwyn's hair, lifted up off the stone and crushed his mouth against Keldwyn's, tasting the heat of his lips, the moist slickness of his tongue. He inhaled the base scent of him, something indescribable, something not of Uthe's own world, yet still vaguely familiar. Perilously familiar.
Since when it came to sex, a vampire's nature was unquestionably all about dominance, he obeyed the charge now, rolling them so he was on top. Keldwyn allowed it, though Uthe knew the Fae's strength could have denied him. The male's hands left a trail of heat over his shoulders, his back, over his hips, long fingers gripping Uthe's buttocks. The sensation brought indescribable pleasure. When Uthe thrust his cock more firmly against Keldwyn's, the shudder of desire through Keldwyn's lean, beautiful body was a garden of temptations.
A garden he could not visit. Riding desperation, Uthe took control in a very uncontrolled way. He let his fangs lengthen and slashed Keldwyn's tongue, his succulent bottom lip.
Keldwyn's reaction was violent enough to lift Uthe off him and catapult him into the wall, slamming the back of his skull into the unyielding surface. It was a good thing the wall was stone; else he'd be explaining the need for repairs to Lady Lyssa. He bounced off the bone jarring surface and landed on his feet, but the close call with unconsciousness meant it took him a second to acknowledge his feet were braced, one on a higher step, another on the lower. He had his hand tented against the rock to give him a necessary third balancing point.
As he'd intended, there was no more need for physical combat. Keldwyn's wings had disappeared and he was standing several steps above Uthe, staring down at him with angry dark eyes.
Fae considered themselves vastly superior to vampires. While they obviously weren't averse to fornicating with one, Uthe knew there was a hard and fast line on the feeding issue. Being a vampire's food was a reprehensible degradation to them.
"If you can't handle the consequences of a vampire's kiss, then I expect you should stick with your kind, Lord Keldwyn," Uthe said, wiping the smear of blood off his mouth with the back of his hand, resisting the desire to lick it off. Even though Keldwyn was difficult to predict on his most congenial days, Uthe suspected he'd consider this incident a personal affront, not a diplomatic catastrophe. But he wouldn't push it or add to the insult b
y tasting his blood in front of him.
Regret speared him at having to take such an extreme tactic to dissuade Keldwyn. While he didn't trust the Fae, he respected him and, yes, even had an affection for him he couldn't deny. Keldwyn might be frustrated by Uthe's control, his courteous tone, but Uthe wondered how he'd react if he knew how Uthe himself felt stifled by it these days, in ways that disturbed him down to his soul. If only Keldwyn would back off. He needed to quit trying to corner Uthe with emotions Uthe couldn't afford, now more than ever.
The reasons for that were more important than even the relationship between Fae and Council, though Uthe might be the only one in the world who knew it. Maybe Uthe should have licked the blood off his hand. The brief taste he'd had was an intriguing mix, like lightning and sweet honey, tinged with chocolate. It had been an echo of what he'd felt when he'd done the live wire grab of Keldwyn's wing.
"I will see you at the Council meeting at nightfall," Keldwyn said. In a blink, his expression had returned to dispassionate indifference. He was like a statue whose perfection could compel every eye in the room, but who gave nothing back to honor that regard, because a statue was too remote to respond to the desires of others.
Though Uthe knew himself to be far from such perfection, he understood that feeling. He gave Keldwyn a courteous bow, his own mask back in place.
"So be it, my lord."
Chapter Two
As Uthe strode down the hall to his sleeping quarters, he fought the needs of his own body, but he already knew he wasn't going to win. He was aroused, flushed with heat, and his fangs had no desire to retract, his blood lust fully provoked. He'd learned to accept his weaknesses, manage them with control and denial as much as he could, but Keldwyn was just too much to be denied.
Mariela, I have need of you before I sleep.
Yes, my lord. I am already here.