by SJ Himes
Simeon thought about it, but carefully set him on his own feet, one hand on his hip as if worried Angel would keel over. He might, too, so he let the hand stay without comment.
Daniel stared up at him from where he sat on the seat, blood on his bruised cheek and lip. He had a hand holding his ribs, and tears streaked down his pale, dirty face. “You came for me.”
Angel took a slow, deep breath, and smiled at his apprentice. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. And for the record, kiddo, I’ll always come save you.”
“You shouldn’t have to save me. I’m twenty, not ten. I should be able to take care of myself,” Daniel sobbed on that last part, and Angel sighed, feeling bad. The kid had no confidence in himself, his esteem as low as it could possibly get, and being abused and abducted by his own father, then held captive, wouldn’t help either. Any progress he’d made in the last two months to get Daniel in a safe and happy place mentally may have just been erased.
“I’m useless,” Daniel cried quietly, tears running down his cheeks unchecked. “I’m not much of a sorcerer. I’m sorry you got stuck with me.”
Angel took Daniel’s chin in his hand, and squeezed enough to get Daniel to look at him. “You are not useless. You are a sorcerer. You are smart, capable, sweet and a joy to be around. You’re as much my family as Isaac, and I will never regret taking you into my home and care. Understand?”
Daniel gaped, mouth opening, shock in his dark, wet eyes, lashes clumped from tears. Only Daniel would look beautiful while sobbing. Angel gave him a smile, doing his best not to give into the urge to cough. He’d hack up a lung later. “Daniel, I’ve made a mistake the last couple of months thinking you needed time to heal from what happened, so I haven’t been training you as arduously as I should have been. I’m going to rectify that. When you’ve been released from your apprenticeship, you’ll be a sorcerer to match any the world has to offer. I am proud to be your master, and I will never regret you. I’m sorry I left you vulnerable. I didn’t raise the wards when we got home earlier. I didn’t make sure you were safe when I left to get to Simeon, and for that I am asking your forgiveness.”
“It’s okay,” Daniel whispered, blushing hard. Angel let his chin go, and shuffled over to hug the boy around his shoulders. Angel could see Isaac inside the limo, his little brother’s face ashen and sad, watching them from where he sat. There was something in Isaac’s eyes that made Angel want to reach out and soothe him, but Isaac was not much for comfort or hugs, not like Daniel. Daniel cried into his shirt, and he rubbed his back, thinking it was a night for tears.
Or day, rather. The horizon was lightening, and it was time to go. Angel looked back to the mansion, noting the spread of the fire was being dampened by the old house wards, the ones used by the wealthy elite to prevent catastrophic damage from flood, fire, and other acts of god—or deranged sorcerers. The house was made of stone, and there were no buildings nearby for the dying fire to leap to.
“We need to go,” Angel said softly, and Simeon nodded, gesturing to the vampire soldiers.
“What shall we do with Macavoy?” Simeon asked, eyes flicking down to look at Daniel before lifting back to Angel.
“Call the cops? I can wait here until O’Malley shows? You guys need to get in the limo and out of the sun. We have maybe ten minutes before things get too bright.”
“I’m not leaving you alone, mo ghra.”
Angel looked across the courtyard. The big guy was holding Macavoy like a baby, and he shuddered. The old man was still limp and out, and Angel found no compassion in his heart. The cagey old fucker just tried to burn himself and other people to death.
He wanted to leave. Go home and take care of his family and sleep for a few days.
“I’ll report this to O’Malley once we get back. Home first, then your friends can return to the Tower,” Angel said, and looked away from Macavoy and his servant. “I’ll keep an eye on him, and if Macavoy survives this, I’ll let the cops handle him. If he comes for us or Daniel again, I’ll kill him.”
Simeon gave him a slow, sweet smile, a fang visible, and Angel smiled back. Sometimes it was worth it not being the hero.
Isaac stroked Eroch’s wings as his brother and the others piled into the limo. Dawn was really close, and Isaac was surprised they waited so long before getting into the limo and behind the protective windows. The vamps settled down around him and his family, and Isaac gave a small shiver, despite knowing they were safe, that these vamps were Simeon’s soldiers and they weren’t in danger.
Eroch was fine, the little dragon sore and bruised, but fine. He was grooming himself on Isaac’s lap, blood covering his claws and snout. Isaac recalled the tiny beast leaping across the room, tearing into Macavoy and surely saving their collectives asses. Occasionally Eroch would pause, stare across the limo at Angel where he was holding the wounded Daniel, and then Eroch would sniff really loud, nostrils twitching, and then he’d go right back to grooming.
Isaac sighed, and while he was beyond thankful Daniel was alive and well, Angel’s words to his apprentice cut deep into Isaac and his already heavy heart. Angel was fiercely loyal, but he had no room for forgiveness when it came to endangering someone. His brother hadn’t blamed Isaac for leaving Daniel alone in the apartment when he chased after Angel, but he was waiting for it. Isaac was the most experienced and skilled sorcerer after Angel, and it was his job to make sure their home was secure whenever he left. Daniel has been in the bathroom, and unable to ward the apartment. Isaac blamed himself. If he’d taken merely a moment and thought before chasing after Angel, he would have been able to prevent Daniel’s kidnapping.
Just another fuck-up to carry. This one was nothing compared to the guilt and grief he carried on his soul. He was doomed to repeat his past mistake, and eventually someone was going to die because of him.
Again.
Chapter Twelve
His Place in the World
“You just left Leicester Macavoy there, without waiting for the police?” Milly demanded, her gray, elegantly plucked eyebrows arching high. “I’m personally surprised he’s still alive. Where’s the impetuous young battlemage who never left an enemy standing at his back?”
The street was packed, Valentine’s Day two days away, and shoppers were crowding the ritzier section of the Market in search of gifts. Angel guided Milly around a rush of pedestrians filing out of the local jeweler, and he gave her a wink and replied, “Killing my apprentice’s father in front of him wasn’t an option. Daniel doesn’t need grief on top of everything else. And that cranky, snotty little know-it-all battlemage you so fondly recall finally grew up. As much as I regret that, sometimes.”
Milly snorted, her expression calling bullshit. Angel grinned, teasing his partner when she pursed her lips into a stern frown. “C’mon, don’t look at me like that. I called O’Malley and told him what happened. He got Leicester and his burly beast of a manservant into custody. I’m charging them both with kidnapping. As Daniel’s master I don’t need his testimony nor does Daniel need to supply a statement unless he wants to. There’s times when these archaic rules of master and apprentice come in handy.”
“In this case I would agree. Daniel is too injured by recent events—his father’s death might be too much. Has he spoken much beyond what you got from him the other night?”
Angel held open the glass and wood door to the apothecary shop, letting Milly enter first. Customers clogged the front of the store where the touristy items, powerless artifacts and trinkets adorned glass shelves, following Milly as she smartly walked down the narrow aisle to the rear of the store where the member’s only room was located. It kept non-practicing humans from entering an area where the magical wares were stored. Anyone without magic was unable to cross the wards etched into the wooden floors. They entered the back room, the floor wards humming in approval when their magic was sensed.
“Daniel has been sleepi
ng on and off the last few nights. Isaac has been hovering over him, and Daniel is going to end up more spoiled than Eroch at this rate. His ribs are still hurting even after a trip to the hospital and some healing spells. Times like this I wish I were an elementalist. Water affinity makes for great healers.”
“If you weren’t a necromancer you’d be dead, darling, and never forget that,” Milly admonished, and Angel shrugged. “Will you keep working on the serial killer case?”
“I will be, and once Daniel’s ribs are back in shape I’ll have him helping me again. Or, you know, whenever you decide to tell me what you know, Miss Obsessed-With-Fae.”
“Shush! I am not obsessed. I just love their history. The book I want to show you has pictures, unlike most books on the fae that I have, so this way we can narrow down what type of fae may have been responsible for Simeon’s attack. And speaking of Simeon, have you spoken to him yet?”
Angel slid around the end of an aisle, avoiding Milly’s keen observational skills. She followed after him, as determined as ever, and skewered him with her gimlet gaze. “No, I haven’t. The last few days have been hectic. He’s been dealing with Batiste, and the aftermath of the missing hunting party he sent after Stone and the fae lord. Six vampires just don’t come back after going after two targets? Someone out of the six should have come back, or hell, some undead bodies should have been found at least.”
“You can’t put it off for much longer,” Milly hissed, grabbing his elbow and halting his meandering through the merchandise. She glared up at him, and Angel met her stare, knowing she was right. “Angel, the power humming under your skin is palpable. You’ve always been strong, but the sheer amount of magical energy I can sense coming from you is astronomical. It’s as if your mainlined into the veil, but I can’t sense a spike in the ambient magic fields, and you’re not exhausted from trying to keep the connection open full bore while charging yourself up. I know it’s not the veil. Simeon managed to drink your blood and thrive on it. In the history of practitioners, there has never been a case of a vampire taking that much magic-laced blood and surviving. I know, I checked.”
Angel looked around the store, but no one was within hearing distance. They were the only two in the restricted area aside from a tall, thin man who came in after them, heading for the far corner. He had his back to them, perusing the shelves.
“Do you think anyone can tell?” he asked quietly, and she frowned, thinking, still holding his arm in her small, strong hand.
“I can because I know your magic, I know you. We’ve been partners for so long I know your magic as well as my own. The boys may be able to pick up on it, but Isaac and Daniel already see you as a very powerful sorcerer, so they may not know that you’re not your usual self. Strangers? I’m not sure. Maybe if they got really close, or put their hands on you. If they were unusually sensitive, they might pick up on it.”
“This can’t get out, Milly,” Angel murmured, patting her hand. “The furor that would arise from vampires and practitioners alike would be madness, and I don’t want to spend my days fighting off people who either want to study me and Simeon as some weird experiment, or people trying to use us to their advantage. I have no issue killing to protect me and mine—I’d just rather not have to look at that many corpses again.”
“Talk to him,” Milly said, firm. Angel sighed, but nodded in agreement. “Good,” she said, smiling and chipper. She spoke at a more normal volume, and took off down the aisle towards the books. “That book I wanted is back here, by the way.”
“This book is important, why?” Angel asked, grumpy. He wanted to go home. Too many people out and about, even if there weren’t that many back in the restricted room with them. Just that tall guy in the corner. Angel still couldn’t see the front of him, but he dismissed the stranger fast enough when Milly reached up, standing on her toes in her high heels, and snagged a book from the top shelf.
He peered over her shoulder, the glossy pages full of pictures and drawings. “Is that a fae fetish book?”
“Shush!” she snapped, and Angel chuckled. “It’s a historical encyclopedia of different fae races, with corresponding pictures.”
“And this encyclopedia has a ton of naked fae in it for what reason?” Angel said as he appreciated a slim, muscular male fae, naked except for some leaves tattooed across his fair skin. The picture was black and white, and about a century old.
“The fae societies didn’t come out of seclusion until the late 1800’s, and many of them refused to dress according to human standards at first, so there’s going to be some nudity, okay?” Milly said, flipping through the pages. “The fae, like most supernats, are not body shy like humans, and have no need to dress to protect themselves from the elements.”
“Well, slow down so I can look, too,” Angel complained, and she slapped his hand away when he reached for the book.
“I am not looking at naked fae pictures with you, young man, so don’t even start,” Milly was adamant, and Angel gave an exaggerated sigh, holding back his smile. He had a powerful suspicion that Milly had this book at home, and hadn’t shared that tidbit for a reason. Her cheeks were flushed, and Angel chuckled to himself. Milly was hard to fluster—but apparently she had a fondness for supernatural men.
Milly stopped near the end of the book, and turned it around, holding it up so he could see. One side was a full-page picture, showing a male and female fae. Long dark green hair, pale skin, and perfect features. Angel blinked, and took another look. “They look like the fae lord that ambushed Simeon.”
“I thought they might,” Milly said, frowning.
He pulled out his smartphone and took a picture, sending it to Simeon.
“Is that a new phone?” Milly asked him with a smirk.
“Yes, you know it is,” Angel said with a drawn out exhale. “Who are they?”
Milly flipped the book back around, and ran her hand down the page with the description. “High court Sidhe, descendants of the fae ruling classes from the British Isles and Northern Europe around three thousand years ago to early medieval times. They were hunted to near extinction about five hundred years ago. There’s estimated to be less than a hundred high court Sidhe left in the world as of the 2000 census. About fifty percent of them fled to the New World when the Colonies were established.”
Angel got a text back from Simeon, and he held it up to show Milly.
They appear to be the same species of fae that attacked me. –S
“We have a winner,” Angel said, and plucked the book from Milly’s hand. She smacked his shoulder, and he ducked, teasing, “I’ll take this. Save you from yourself. Can’t have you daydreaming over fae porn while at work.”
“You are an asshole.” She crossed her arms and sniffed, narrowing her eyes. “You’re going to read it at work, aren’t you?”
“Yup.”
Milly glared at him and stomped off, heading for the spell ingredients shelved along the far wall.
Angel put the book under his arm, and went toward the front of the store to pay for it. He got halfway up the aisle when someone stepped in front of him, almost knocking into his shoulder. He swerved, and he bumped into a display of attuned crystals. The stones lit up, a cascading shower of hellfire green and emerald, and Angel carefully backed away, the lights fading. Attunement stones were used for divining affinity in youngsters who hadn’t yet presented definitive signs, and they were notoriously fragile.
“What the hell,” Angel growled, glaring up at the tall man in front of him. “I know I’m short but I’m the only person in the damn aisle. Watch yourself.”
He went to go around the asshole, but a long arm came up in front of him, blocking his way. Angel stopped, and bit the inside of his cheek. Losing his temper in a public apothecary surrounded by magical devices was such a bad idea. “Excuse me.”
“Mr. Salvatore. A pleasure to see you again,” the asshole said,
giving him a slimy, over-friendly smile, and that’s what clued Angel in.
“Hey, Doc. What can I do for you?” Angel gritted out, resisting the urge to punch Ballacree in the face again. He must have been healed at the hospital because there was no sign of the broken nose Angel gave him when the doctor refused to stop examining his aura. “Need me to break another bone?”
“I was wondering if I might take you to dinner, perhaps a coffee? I understand you enjoy coffee quite a bit,” Ballacree said with another odd, thin smile that made Angel want a hot shower and lye soap. Angel was left confused and shocked by the out of the blue offer, and his spine tingled with the urge to retreat. Every instinct Angel had screamed stalker-alert. Ballacree took a long step toward him, peering down at Angel like he was a snack. “You go to that café next to the Common several times a week, so you must like it. I wanted to discuss my examination of you at Metro. Your aura was intriguing, so enticing. We never had a chance to finish. And call me Alfred, please.”
Alfred? Why would he call anyone stalking him anything other than creeper?
“Okay, several things inappropriate just happened,” Angel said, backing up a step so he could keep Creepy Stalker Doctor’s hands in view. “One, you violated me and my rights when you examined my aura. Discussing it publicly and without my permission is also a big Fuck You. I broke your nose, remember that? I can do it again. And I should, since you’ve been stalking me if you know my coffee buying habits. Two, I’m so unavailable that the Devil has to make a reservation a lifetime in advance just to claim my soul. Three, I am going to set your ass on fire if you take another step toward me.”
Ballacree was advancing, one step at a time, as if approaching a skittish animal. Angel wouldn’t bite, but he would attack.
“Mr. Salvatore, there’s no need to be hostile. I am sure we’d get along beautifully if you only gave us a chance. Come have some coffee with me.”