by Lissa Kasey
He wiped at his face and sucked in large gulps of air, trying to prepare as the elevator finally stopped at the penthouse, the doors sliding open to the giant space fit for a king. Max always did live large.
“Rou,” Max greeted from his spot on the couch across the room. He had a laptop open in front of him and seemed to be centered on it. If there had been shifters there, they were gone now.
Sam stepped out of the elevator first, the guards staying behind. Seiran followed, with Forest trailing behind like some strange magical duckling.
“Interesting,” Max said. “Death puppets are complicated.”
Of course, he’d recognize the thing. “Do you have books on necromancy I can borrow?” Sei asked, trying not to panic as his heart sped up. Where was Gabe? Would Sei fall apart the second he saw him? Fuck, he was not ready for any of this.
“I’ll have to make a few calls.” Max’s gaze lingered on the golem. “Strong magic.”
“It was unraveling,” Sei said. “My magic fuels it now.”
“Partially,” Max agreed. He, as a vampire, didn’t really have magic, but he did seem to understand it better than most. The structure portion of mortal magic seemed to appeal to him, so he’d studied it, found and memorized every book he could find on it. Which was why he had a vast library of things not even the Dominion knew. Some of the darkest books ever written were hidden away in Maxwell Hart’s private library.
“I need to find who created it before unraveling it,” Sei informed him. “Until then I have to keep control of it.”
“It will be easier to control it if you give it blood,” Max said. “Everything is so much easier to control with blood.”
Fucking vampires and their obsession with blood. Sei was suddenly very tired. “Where is Gabe? I’d like to go home and get some sleep. Some of us have to work regular mundane jobs.”
“You don’t actually,” Max corrected. “I manage your money. You’re one of the richest witches in the world, even if you pretend otherwise.” He set the computer aside and stood, stretching like he’d been sitting too long. Max was an attractive man, tall, dark, and dangerous. He came across as wealth and sophistication, but underneath was a barely veiled layer of ruthlessness. Sam basked in it, all vampires sort of did, so Seiran didn’t blame him, but it made Sei’s anxiety rise. “Would it help to hash out your irritation here?” Max prompted.
“Irritation? At what? Being dragged out of my home at this late hour?” Sei folded his arms across his chest. He’d rather deal with a dozen rabid golems than this vampire bullshit.
“At the fact that he and I were once lovers?” Max said without emotion.
“No.” The reminder squeezed Sei’s heart like it was clenched in someone’s fist. Seiran wasn’t at all like Max. If Gabe liked men like Max, what did that mean for their relationship? Had it all been a power play? “Are we done here?”
Max crossed the room and slid back one of those giant doors to reveal a room. For a minute Sei was worried Gabe would be naked in bed or something after being thoroughly fucked by Max. But the room wasn’t even a bedroom, more of a sitting area with a few bookshelves and several armchairs. Gabe was sitting in one of them, eyes closed, almost appearing to be asleep.
Sei felt stuck in place, chest tight, anxiety rising, all signs of a panic attack which he hadn’t had in ages. He concentrated on counting his breathing, taking deep steadying breaths, in and out. He didn’t close his eyes or try to shut down, as that would mean a full-scale panic attack, and embarrassment later. He would hate to show that sort of weakness in front of the vampires. Though it was a near thing.
Gabe didn’t look the same. Sei could understand what Sam meant about that now. He was a bit thinner, though still wide through the shoulders. His blond hair longer than Sei ever recalled it being, falling around his ears in long curls, but not quite long enough to reach his shoulders. It was also a bit darker, more a dirty blond than the pale wash Sei’s memory clung to. And in Sei’s entire time of knowing him, he had never known Gabe to have a beard, but now he had a well-trimmed box beard. With his eyes closed, and blond lashes falling over his cheeks, he looked angelic, harmless, even if Sei knew otherwise.
Not the man he knew, Sei tried to remind himself, even as his body reacted, drawn forward with a need to touch. The jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt weren’t normal wear either, as Gabe had always preferred a more business style of attire unless he was at the bar. Polish, that had been the Gabriel Santini that Seiran had known. This was something else, vulnerable? Or just pretending.
“Gavriil,” Max called, “your Focus has come for you.”
Gabe opened his eyes, blinking and taking a deep breath as though he had been napping. He glanced around the room, seeming to size up everyone for a moment before his gaze fell on Sei. The green, vivid and clear, more so than Seiran could recall it having been even on that final day.
“Seiran,” Gabe whispered, “I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I didn’t mean… I would never hurt you…” But he had. A thousand times over. Gabe bowed his head. He swallowed hard, put his hands back to the earth, then stared at Seiran when he said, “To the earth I commit myself.”
The memories, bittersweet, cut like a knife because there was no recognition in his eyes.
Chapter 6
The meditation helped. With his stomach full, the warmth awakening all those long immobile nerves, Gabe could relax and sort out his brain. Max had to finish up some business stuff which had been more noise than Gabe could handle as he’d been processing. He’d been given the closed off room for space.
The memories of Titus, well Max now, were the easiest to sort through. The affection and heartbreak all rising as though he were feeling them for the first time again. They did fade as he worked through the memories. For a while there had been an almost impossible to resist urge to interrupt Max and demand attention. Instead, Gabe tried to find more recent memories. Those were more broken, shattered like glass into fragments so small he knew it would take time to put any of it together.
His sire’s image brought up a lot of jagged pieces. From her death to a man who’d tried to kill him… Roman. Right. Even those memories were scattered. He wondered if it would have been easier if he’d written things down beforehand. A journal or memoir of sorts. Max had given him a cell phone. Gabe sort of remembered them, small handheld computer devices. A world of knowledge in his hands, powerful.
Maybe he could record videos to himself for whenever this happened again down the line. Max had assured Gabe that going to ground was a normal part of being a vampire, indicating he did it himself for a week, once a year.
“Think of it as a vacation,” Max had stated. “Schedule it, and maintain your power and sanity.”
That sounded like a good idea. Obviously, Gabe had not been doing that before since he had been down a decade and a half, or thereabout. He’d wanted to start reading up on all he missed and search out the information on the witch who was his Focus, but Max suggested the quiet. Let the pieces fall into place instead of jamming all the memories at once. Too much would turn him revenant, Max said.
Revenant.
That brought back vague memories. A club, lots of bodies filled with blood, some dying. The taste on his tongue bitter, almost foul. Even the shifters had tasted better than the dying groupies at some club. It felt strange that he’d have done that. Though he knew he had plenty of moments in his life where he fed from whatever he could. Maybe that had been the reason?
A face flashed through his memory again, too fast to make out much more than long dark hair and blue eyes. The more Gabe tried to reach for that particular thought, the faster it vanished, and his head began to hurt. He stopped chasing them after a while, instead following easier trails like of Sam, the vampire with an attitude who had apparently been working for Roman, but now belonged to Max? He would have to ask.
When the door opened and Max called him, Gabe had been half asleep, dozing on the edge of drifting memories, letting them
go where they would.
“Gavriil,” Max called, “your Focus has come for you.”
The name was wrong. He wasn’t Gavriil anymore, but he opened his eyes hoping the Focus, witch, or whatever would bring back more memories. He expected to be walloped with them, only there was nothing.
He was younger than Gabe had expected, appearing mid-twenties at most. Had his aging slowed? Was that the Focus bond? Or the fact that he was a witch? Gabe wasn’t sure it would be okay to ask. He’d always found silence the safest bet when he wasn’t certain of a response.
The man, his Focus, was beautiful, pretty as only Asian men really seemed to be. His facial bone structure delicate, with high cheekbones, and slanted eyes. Slim and lean, more like a runner, he wasn’t overly tall, but balanced. Hair a bit of a mess of pale brown hanging near his shoulders, and pushed back out of his face. The eyes were the one thing that seemed to stir some sort of memory in him. That sapphire blue gaze sad, watery, even filled with pain. Gabe had an inclination to comfort him, like it was something he’d done often, but he remained rooted to the chair.
The man sucked in a deep breath and turned away, focusing on Max. “Is he sane?”
“As sane as possible for any vampire,” Max replied.
Sam stepped up behind the man and put a hand on his shoulder. “I can stay with you if you need. The guys won’t mind.”
There was a third man standing behind them, still as a tree, not even breathing. Curious. Gabe stared at it; the lines of magic wrapped around it looking like lasers of rainbow colors. Not a man. Some sort of creature? Magic? Had the witch created it? A person out of organic material?
It had an unusual overlay, that appeared almost tangible. Gabe stared at it, trying to sort through what it meant. In reality, part of it mirrored the makeup of a vampire. Though vampires seemed to have one very solid tie to organic matter, which Gabe could see in specific lines of power. One of them actually seemed to be linked to the man who was Gabe’s Focus.
What had Max said his name was? Say-ron. Seiran Rou. Sam called him Ronnie. A tease that made Gabe think maybe the witch wasn’t as strict and irritated as his expression made him out to be.
Gabe blinked and stood up, feeling a bit wobbly. He’d have to learn to not be still too long as it slowed blood flow. A tug of memory in his head said it was something he was familiar with in the past. He hoped the sluggishness wore off soon.
The man didn’t move, or speak directly to Gabe. How was he to react? Greet the man? Introduce himself? Pretend he knew him? Gabe looked to Max for guidance, but found himself ignored.
“Once he’s back to himself, I’ll go over his portfolios with him. It will be easy enough to transfer all his businesses back. Most of it is managed by my people anyway,” Max said having returned to staring at his computer screen.
“And how long will that take?” Seiran asked. He had his arms wrapped around himself and was staring at the floor. “Before he remembers anything?”
“Not long I suspect. A few days maybe? Better for him to remember in small batches than all at once. No need to shake the revenant loose,” Max answered as though the revenant wouldn’t be an issue.
Gabe knew what that was, the soulless need for blood that could take him over. He had vivid memories of that darkness eating him up, slowly taking over. Is that what had happened? Why he’d gone to ground? More questions and no answers. Though turning into that berserker that slept inside all vampires would explain the witch’s anger.
“I’m sorry,” Gabe said finally, “I will do my best to remember.” He didn’t like feeling weak or beholden. He hated this fog over his thoughts and memories. The pained expression on Seiran’s face made his heart hurt, an intense and weird sensation since he didn’t recognize the man at all.
Max waved a hand. “Go. Some of us have work to do,” he said. Seiran flinched and turned toward the elevator.
“Those books?” Seiran called back as he hit the button that made the door open.
“I’ll make some calls,” Max said. His gaze fell to Gabe. “Go.”
“What if I hurt him?” Gabe asked, feeling unsteady. Max’s tie was strong, holding the dredges of darkness back that Gabe knew at one point he could contain the revenant himself. Would he have that control again? Would distance between them give the darkness rise?
“It won’t be the first time,” Max said.
“The witch can put him back in the ground, if necessary,” Seiran said of himself. “Especially if you even look at my kids wrong. Let’s go.”
Gabe ground his teeth together at the coldness of that tone. Whatever hurt he’d caused before must have made the witch hate him. And since they had a Focus bond, it meant they were stuck with each other. Great. Well, they could work it out as a balance somehow. As long as Gabe had enough time to regain control of his strength and at least some of his memories. Maybe he could give the witch some space then.
“I would never hurt a child,” Gabe said, feeling confident of those words.
“Right,” Sam snorted. “How old was Sei when you first took him to bed?”
Had Gabe seduced a very young witch? That didn’t feel right.
“I was legal,” Seiran said. He had his hand on the edge of the elevator door to keep it open. “Forest, come.”
The creature turned and loped into the elevator like an obedient dog. Gabe really didn’t want to be that whipped for anyone.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” Sam asked Seiran.
“No. Keep your loud sex life at home. My kids don’t need that drama.”
Sam laughed, “Sure, Ronnie. You know it’s the only action you see in your house that isn’t the muscleman and his boy toy. And how gross is that? Your brother?”
“Jamie’s attractive,” Seiran said.
That statement brought a rise of jealous to Gabe’s gut, and a flash of darkness tugging on him. He sucked in a deep breath, feeling the air a cold bite filling his lungs clearly enough to shove the darkness back.
Seiran had apparently not missed it because his gaze was centered on Gabe. “Would you rather stay here with Max?” The question was phrased neutral enough, but the tone was tight.
Gabe thought he might actually prefer to stay, but only because he worried the darkness would rise again. He squared his shoulders and walked toward the door. “I am not myself,” he said, feeling that edge of darkness lingering. “Perhaps the other vampire should come?”
“He doesn’t need my help,” Sam said. “He doesn’t even have to break a sweat to put you back in the ground. He could probably even call it therapy.”
Gabe stepped into the elevator, finding a spot near the back corner to give them some room. Seiran let the door close, not bothering to say goodbye to either vampire, and pushed the button for the garage. The elevator began to descend.
“I want you to promise to do just that,” Gabe said after a moment of silence.
“What?” Seiran asked staring at his own reflection in the shiny chrome of the elevator door instead of at him.
“If I try to hurt anyone. Put me back in the ground.” Another minute of silence passed and the elevator stopped, opening to reveal an underground parking garage and a car waiting.
“That’s the plan,” Seiran said as he stalked to the vehicle.
A man standing beside the car opened the back door and Seiran climbed in, followed by the creature. By the time Gabe dragged himself into the backseat, the creature was sitting on the other side of Seiran, and Seiran was seated in the middle, his back ramrod straight.
The door closed behind Gabe, and Seiran only glanced his way as the man who had held the door for them got into the driver’s seat. “Put on your seatbelt,” Seiran instructed.
Gabe glanced at the creature, who was wearing a belt, and Seiran, both wearing the belt already. The witch must have been talking to him. He reached back and pulled the belt down, having to brush against Seiran’s side to click it into place. It was familiar, the sensation of touching the witch
, like he’d done it many times before, but the memories lingered on the edge of his conscious, not close enough to grasp. Gabe stared out the window instead, hoping that the drive would bring back more memories.
The trip took a while and Gabe used the time to study the city they passed, and the long road beyond. The scent of honey and vanilla teased him with an edge of memory, like it was just out of reach. Frustrating, but he didn’t reach for it for fear it would flit away. He concentrated on his breathing, a steady in and out that helped him feel almost normal.
By the time the car pulled up to a gate and a giant house beyond, Gabe felt clear enough to keep the revenant down if it happened to rise. “This is nice,” he said softly.
The fence giving space to a large and somewhat wildly grown garden. It didn’t look unattended, as the grass wasn’t overgrown and crazy, but there were trees of a dozen different types, from citrus to nut to pine, all things that only grew in varied climates. But hadn’t Max said this witch was a Pillar?
Gabe tried to recall the specifics of what a Pillar was. One of the five elements of power, if he was remembering correctly. The Pillars were chosen by the element, as sort of an apex of magic, or at least that was the basics Gabe could remember.
That meant Seiran was the Pillar of Earth, able to grow things year-round in any climate perhaps? There were flowers and cactuses, and an endless spread of strange plant life. “Interesting garden.”
“The fae have gone a little crazy with it,” Sei said as the car stopped in the round drive before the stairs leading to the main door. “Kaine, one of my kids, is sort of playing with his affinity to grow things. The earth doesn’t mind as long as I keep it contained to the yard. The other two have mostly outgrown their need to experiment.”
“Kaine,” Gabe said, thinking about that, “Is part fae?”
“Yes,” Seiran agreed.
The car stopped and the driver got out to open the door. Gabe unlocked his seatbelt and got out first, waiting for the witch and the creature to follow. The house itself seemed illuminated with lights in the windows, and a glow of power. Pillar magic, perhaps? Or something more. The distance from the city allowed the night sky to be filled with endless stars. Crickets danced around them in a noisy array, unbothered by their presence. He wondered what time of year it was. Not winter, obviously, fall perhaps? The trees weren’t changing color, not that he’d be able to use that to gauge time in the witch’s space.