Omens and Artifacts

by Elizabeth Hunter

  Cathy nodded. “It would certainly be an awkward and probably very short reign.”

  Tenzin said, “I would kill people for you. Just so you know.”

  “Thanks,” Ben said. “So that’s the deal? Whoever holds the Sanguine Raptor is the vampire king of Scotland?”

  “Yes,” Max said. “But I have no desire to be king. William—Lord MacGregor—is an excellent and fair ruler. Gemma is already in power in London. Deirdre and Carwyn have massive influence in Dublin, even though Murphy is in charge. If I was the ruler here, our clan would be far too visible. We would be seen as too powerful and we’d become a target. It was one of the reasons Ioan never sought any kind of position. Gemma is the only one of us interested in ruling, and she’s still more of a co-executive than a queen. If I become king here…” He sighed and put his hands over his face. “You see why we cannot reveal that the Sanguine Raptor has been found.”

  Ben frowned. “No. I really don’t. Not at all.” The answer was so obvious to Ben he didn’t know how Max and Cathy hadn’t already thought of it. “All you have to do is tell people that Brennus is alive.”

  Max’s head shot up. “What?”

  “Whoever holds the Sanguine Raptor is like… the heir of Brennus, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “But Brennus isn’t dead. People just think he is. Which is why immortals have tried to find the sword, right? Because whoever has the sword would be the king.”

  “Or the queen,” Cathy added. “There’s no requirement the vampire be male.”

  Max said, “But you said we shouldn’t tell anyone Brennus is alive. You promised—”

  “Nothing.” Tenzin picked up another coffee table book, this one entitled Maximum Storage, Medieval Space. “We didn’t promise Brennus we’d keep his secret. I don’t think he’d really care if anyone knew. If anyone is foolish enough to try to find him and wake him up, that’s on their head.”

  “And let’s be honest,” Ben said. “René Dupont will tell his clients that Brennus is alive. It’s the only excuse he has for not retrieving the treasure. Word is going to spread.”

  Cathy turned to Max. “He’s right. If Brennus isn’t dead, then there’s no need for a succession. Edinburgh continues to be ruled by a steward of the absent king, and they can just fight over that position if they want to. William will love it because it cements his authority, and since you’re a descendant of Brennus’s, you can keep the sword in your own armory. Tavish can guard it. It’ll give him an excuse to never leave the estate. He’ll be the ‘Keeper of the King’s blade’ or something like that. He’ll love it.”

  Max was rubbing his jaw, but his face didn’t look quite as pale. “This could work.”

  “It will work,” Tenzin said, paging through the design book. “Vampires, especially old ones, are highly resistant to change. Cathy, are you the designer here or is Max?”

  “Me,” Max said. “Why do you ask?”

  “I need to hang some weapons,” Tenzin said. “And I’m just not sure… I’m looking for ideas.”

  “What type of weapons? Swords? Spears? Do you have any armor?”

  Tenzin sat up straighter. “I do have some very nice Kozane armor from Japan, but it’s in storage.”

  “Really?” Max said. “I’d love to see it. As for weapons, it’s always nice to vary your presentation. How many rooms are you thinking of? If you need ideas, you must come visit the castle. My brother and I inherited an armory.”

  Ben watched Tenzin’s eyes light up and knew he’d lost her. She’d been obsessing over her wall of swords for weeks, and she’d finally found someone who seemed as enthusiastic as she was about decorating with deadly things.

  He turned back to Cathy. “So that’s it?”

  She nodded. “Leave it to me. Max hates politics, and everyone is afraid of me. I’ll smooth things over with William.” She grinned. “Congrats, kid. You just found your first big treasure.”

  “And everyone freaked out about it.”

  She shrugged. “At least you know it’ll get everyone talking.”

  “That’s what I wanted.”

  Cathy ran her fingertip along the length of the ancient sword. “It’s beautiful, Ben. Be proud. Be very proud.” She clapped her hands together. “Now, there’s just one more step to finish this deal.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “We’ve got to drink on it. I hope you like whisky.”

  Ben smiled. “I knew I’d love this country.”

  ✕

  BEN and Tenzin stayed in Edinburgh for two more weeks. They were present when William, Lord MacGregor, steward of Edinburgh, saw his king’s sword for the very first time. Despite their initial fears, MacGregor showed no sign of posturing or political gamesmanship. There was only a quiet wonder at hearing the news that Brennus was alive in the world. The Raven King still lived. If anything, his legend had only grown bigger.

  Ben shook MacGregor’s hand and accepted the vampire’s thanks for the recovery of a national treasure. And… the honorary title.

  “You said you wanted a title,” Tenzin said. “Well, now you have one.”

  “Master of Iron doesn’t actually mean anything, Tenzin.”

  “It means we need to work on your sword skills, Benjamin Vecchio, Master of Iron in Lothian.”

  “It makes me sound like I do laundry.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s an honorific to say thank you. ‘Scribe of Penglai Island’ doesn’t really mean I’m a scribe, but that’s one of mine.”

  “Commander of the Altan Wind?”

  She cocked her head. “Okay, that one means something, but it’s not as polite as Master of Iron.”

  Tenzin had forced herself to be gracious at the various receptions and parties they attended with Max and Cathy, but Ben caught her eyeing the Sanguine Raptor with covetous glances every time she was in the same room with it.

  He probably ought to warn Max about that.

  “Why don’t you have to get dressed up?” He squirmed in his new kilt. The wool itched against his skin.

  “I am dressed up.” She looked down at the black pants and tunic. “This is embroidered silk.”

  “And it looks so much more comfortable than this,” he muttered.

  “You look very handsome.” She adjusted the plaid over his shoulder.

  Don’t say it…

  “All the women will want to have sex with you.”

  “Thanks, Tenzin.”

  Despite his discomfort with the breeze on his legs, attending the banquet and accepting the title and ceremonial dirk Lord MacGregor gave him felt… big.

  It wasn’t just that every immortal in Edinburgh was talking about the recovery of the Sanguine Raptor or the beauty of the historic blade. Ben felt part of something bigger.

  He’d found something that was missing and returned it to those who valued it. He’d brought a lost thing home. Ben hadn’t realized that would mean something to him, but it did.

  Ben and Tenzin attended the banquet in honor of the Raven King’s throne where William MacGregor, immortal son of Brennus’s most trusted counselor, kissed the blade Max held and pledged to watch over the immortals and humans of Scotland until the time that the Raven King decided to finally return. They danced at midnight in a castle outside the city, and when they left, Ben was a Master of Iron in the Scottish court.

  ✕

  BEN and Tenzin spent two full weeks at Max’s castle in the Highlands. Tenzin forced Ben to take a million pictures while she took notes and nearly swooned over Max’s collection of axes. Ben would have said her adoration was embarrassing except that both Max and his cranky brother Tavish seemed slightly besotted with the tiny air vampire with the bronze blade.

  They laughed. They talked.

  They drank a lot of whisky.

  “I love this place,” Tenzin said one night. They were sitting on the floor of the dagger room.

  Yes, there was a room full of daggers. Every size and shape you could imagine. Ben was starting to
worry that Tenzin would never want to leave.

  “We have to go back to New York,” he said.

  “But why?” she whined. “I could live here, and you could call Max when you need me for something.”

  He nudged her shoulder. “You’d miss me too much.”

  “I would not.”

  “You would. Also, I don’t think Max and Cathy get cable here. No HGTV, Tenzin.”

  Her eyes went wide.

  “I don’t think they even have Wi-Fi, so no YouTube either.”

  Tenzin made a face. “Never mind. I’ll just come visit their weapons. Besides, Cara would miss me if I lived here.”

  “You do know she’s not an actual person, don’t you? It’s an artificial intelligence program. There’s not an actual person living in the walls or anything.”

  Tenzin shook her head. “I hope you don’t say that at home. You’ll hurt Cara’s feelings.”

  “Not a person. No feelings. Artificial intelligence.”

  Tenzin rose and gave him a disapproving frown. “I expected more kindness from you, Ben.”

  “Are you joking? I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

  She walked out of the dagger room.

  “Tenzin?”

  Yeah, it was definitely time to go home.

  Epilogue

  BEN FLIPPED THROUGH A MAGAZINE while Tenzin placed the last sword at the top of the wall.

  He flipped again.

  She floated down to the ground and surveyed her handiwork. She’d have to make Ben take pictures and send some to both Max and Gemma. The two had been instrumental in the overall design scheme of the loft. Both had urged her to retrieve her armor and shields from storage, and the Ngoni and Indian shields made excellent additions.

  Maybe she could convince Ben to build a dagger room in the loft.

  He let out a small huffing sigh and flipped another magazine page.

  Tenzin’s eye twitched. “Cara,” she called. “Please play music.”

  “What music would you like?”

  “Enya, please. Just play all the Enya you have access to.”

  Tenzin found there was nothing that induced rage in Ben faster than the soothing sounds of the Irish singer. But lately, anything was better than Ben’s silent pouting.

  “Cara, stop music,” Ben growled.

  “Cara, play Enya.”

  “I do not understand,” Cara’s smooth lilt intoned. “What music would you like me to play?”

  “Enya.” Tenzin stared at Ben. “Shuffle. All.”

  Ben threw down the magazine as a wave of New Age voices filled the room. “What is wrong with you? You know I hate that music.”

  She batted her eyes at him. “You seem tense.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Really? Because you seem tense.” She gestured at the wall. “You haven’t even complimented my decorating.”

  She was quite pleased with the contractor Cara had found. He wasn’t cheap, but he was fast and he didn’t ask inconvenient questions. Over the past month, she’d planned and placed most of her sword and shield collection. Her armor had been unpacked and mounted in the corners of the loft. Tenzin found she quite liked the idea of hollow warriors guarding their territory. She hoped it would make guests uncomfortable enough that they wouldn’t stay long.

  “Well?” she asked, gesturing to the length of the wall. “I think Ruben and I are going to start on a conservatory for the roof garden next.”

  He picked up the magazine again. “That’s not decorating. That’s easy access to things that can kill your enemies. Useful, I’ll grant you, but you’re not exactly curating Monet.”

  Tenzin narrowed her eyes and flew over to Ben, picking him up by the back of his shirt and hoisting him into the air while he kicked and twisted.

  “Put me down!”

  Flying with Ben when he cooperated was a challenge. Flying him when he was trying to twist away was almost impossible.

  “Do you want to break your legs?” She nearly dropped him. “Stop flailing like a child.”

  “Put me down, Tenzin!”

  She tossed him into her alcove and threw the magazine he was still clutching to the ground.

  “You will stop this,” she said, glaring at him. “Or I will hurt you.”

  Ben was red in the face, but he couldn’t quell the urge to look around her small loft area. “This is smaller than I thought.”

  “I am not a very big person.”

  His head almost touched the ceiling. The loft itself was just over six feet tall and open to the rest of the house, but curtains were hung for when she needed privacy. There was a railing but no ladder. The only way to get in was to fly. There was a simple pallet on the floor with rugs and furs from her home in Tibet. There was an altar in the corner where she meditated and lit incense, and a small loom she’d built. Other than that, it was empty save for a few piles of books.

  “Sit,” she said.

  Ben sat. His eyes were drawn to the loom. “You weave.”

  “Yes.”

  He stared at the blank wall across from him. “I didn’t know that.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Benjamin.”

  He was silent again.

  “Why are you so angry?” she asked. “You’re making everyone around you miserable.”

  “The only person I see is you.”

  “Not true.” Wait, was it? “Don’t dismiss Cara. She’s a part of this family too.”

  At least that made him crack a smile.

  Thinking back, Tenzin realized he’d rarely left the loft during the previous month. While she’d been video-chatting with Max and Gemma, ordering around Ruben the contractor, and seeing to the decoration of the loft, he’d been brooding in his office. She didn’t know if there were pictures on his walls, and he still hadn’t unpacked his books.

  “Ben,” she asked. “When did I become the well-adjusted one?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s so wrong.”

  “It is. I am the strange, frightening vampire and you are the human that everyone likes. This partnership isn’t going to work if we try changing that now.”

  He nodded.

  “You need to get a life here,” she said. “Make friends. I don’t need many people, but I’m not you. The O’Briens have invited you over on several occasions. You need to stop making excuses.”

  The O’Briens were the immortals in charge of New York City. They were an unruly clan of earth vampires who distrusted most outsiders but had been cautiously friendly to Ben because of his connections to Carwyn in Ireland.

  Also, he had money. Which they liked.

  She said, “You can only make work excuses for so long when you’re not working.”

  Bingo. The pained look on his face told her what was really bothering him.

  “They’re going to call,” she said.

  “You keep saying that”—he picked at the edge of her rug—“but it’s been a month.”

  “A month, Ben. A month. You are working with vampires here. Think about how most of us perceive time. A month is nothing.”

  He groaned and banged his head against the wall. “This is driving me crazy.”

  “You don’t need the money. Not really. But you do need to relax.”

  “I don’t know how to do that,” he said. “My whole life has been busy. School. Training. Studying. Working with Giovanni. More training. More studying.”

  “Do you think Gio works all the time?”

  “Yes.” Ben shrugged. “He works as much as he wants.”

  “Now he does. But when we were working together, there were some times where we’d only work three or four months out of the year. That’s contract work, Ben. Sometimes you wait for work. Sometimes you wait a long time. And other times you’ll have jobs coming from everywhere.”

  “So how do you deal with it?”

  “If you’re a hermit like me, you don’t care.” She shrugged. “If you’re you, you… go to a party with the O’Bri
ens. Or fly to LA for a few weeks. Travel to Rome and see Fabi. Drink whisky with Gavin. But you leave the house.”

  He sighed.

  “Or…,” she said. “I’m going to physically hurt you at some point.”

  He smiled. “Got it.”

  She nodded toward the ledge. “Get out of my loft. It’s too crowded up here with you in it.”

  He looked over the edge. “Sorry, but unless you have a rope ladder, you’re going to have to help me down. I’m not breaking my legs because you had a temper tantrum.” He raised his voice. “And for God’s sake, Cara, stop playing Enya!”

  “Stopping shuffle now,” Cara said.

  Ben shook his head, muttering, “Passive-aggressive New Age music” under his breath. “Cara,” he said, “play the Real McKenzies. Shuffle all. Volume level forty-five.”

  In a few seconds, the sound of pounding drums and angry bagpipes blasted through the loft.

  Tenzin grinned. “This is like the music in the pub!”

  “I know!” he shouted. “Now will you get me down from here?”

  She flew them both down to the main level and set Ben on his feet.

  “Don’t pick me up again,” he said. “You know I hate that.”

  “Are you going to stop pouting?”

  “I was not—”

  “This is Cara.” Cara paused the music; her voice—the volume still turned up to forty-five—filled the room. “You have an incoming call from Daniel Preston in York, United Kingdom. Shall I accept?”

  Ben frowned. “Do you know a Daniel Preston?”

  “No,” Tenzin said. “But I have a feeling that he knows you.”

  Ben’s smile lit up the room. “Cara, accept call.”

  THE END

  of the beginning

  January 25, 2017

  Dear Readers,

  There you have it; it’s the end of the beginning. I hope you enjoyed Ben and Tenzin’s most recent adventure and look forward to their first full novel, which I’ll be writing later this year.

  I knew four years ago that to write their series, I needed to take some time. I needed to let the characters grow and change. I needed to move them exactly where they needed to be. Ben needed to get older and wiser. Tenzin needed to become a bit (a very little bit) more human and connected with the world.