Night's Templar: A Vampire Queen Novel (Vampire Queen Series Book 13) (38 page)

It is all right, for now.
John’s voice, calmer again.
He has passed His Hand over the water, and all is calm.

The demon had tried one of his fits, a futile attempt to burst loose. It had been years since he’d had one, so Uthe had forgotten the feeling. At the beginning, he’d done it quite often, like an animal gone mad in confinement. During that time, Uthe had to shut out as much of it as possible, for the suffering the demon’s histrionics caused the other two souls sharing the same space had been something he was helpless to prevent. It was John’s prayers that had helped Uthe bear it. Not once had the Madman faltered, and Uthe could do no less.

“Until a way is found to send him back to Hell, you will not free us. I will not go to the Gates of Heaven knowing he is free to spread evil.”
How many times, and in how many ways, had the Baptist said that to him? But the demon’s behavior this time was more savage. He knew they were getting close, and it would not be the last time he tried to throw Uthe off course. Maintaining his strength was essential.

“Varick.” Keldwyn was touching his scalp gently. “You are all right.”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat, struggled to his feet. Keldwyn helped him, standing close as he swayed. “I need blood.”

“You shall have it shortly. Walk with me and tell me what happened.” Keldwyn looped his arm around his waist, keeping him steady as they moved forward.

“The demon is getting restless. Sometimes he gets…chaotic.”

“It’s a good sign.” Keldwyn grunted. “If he thought you had no chance of succeeding, he would not torment you.”

“I favor your optimism, my lord.” Uthe stopped as they emerged from the forest. On the horizon, far in the distance, was a castle that looked as if it were made of ice, its blue, silver and white facets glistening in the sun. The land between them and it was a patchwork of beauty. Multi-colored flowers, trees with leaves of every kind of green, fields of lavender. He saw a herd of deer grazing, birds winging through the skies in as many colors as the flowers. Though he appreciated all of it, for some reason his mind clung to an image of the common wood dove, that simple lovely gray.

“That is Queen Rhoswen’s castle,” Keldwyn explained. “Should you ever dine there, she has the best chef.”

“Good to know. Five-star rating on the Ice Castle menu.” Moving in sync with Keldwyn, Uthe was getting uncomfortably aware of the pulse of blood in the Fae Lord’s throat. He wasn’t a fledgling who would give in to bloodlust from mere temptation, but he didn’t want to test his resolve, when there were so many other things about Keldwyn he had difficulty resisting as it was.

“It is known as the Castle of Water, Caislean Uisce. What looks like ice at this distance is actually moving water, shaped and directed by the castle’s exterior elements. It is a castle of waterfalls. However, with Rhoswen in residence, there is indeed much ice there, so your description is not inaccurate. Sit here.” Keldwyn slid him onto the flat surface of a rounded stone, part of a grouping rising out of the ground like a cluster of dinosaur eggs. There were drawings on it. Uthe passed his fingers over the symbols.

“What do these mean?”

“Children’s scrawlings. Things that mean something to them. All children have their secret languages. How old were you when your father made you drink from his victims?”

Uthe stiffened. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken that part aloud, but he shouldn’t be surprised. When the demon emerged like that, and John got involved, it was as real as being placed in a room with them. If he’d had any desire to hide the information from Keldwyn, as the demon had implied, he’d made that impossible. “It was only the one,” he said, and despised himself for saying it, as if there was any defense for such a reprehensible act. “I was forty-eight.”

“A vampire fledgling. Comparable to a human teenager. Usually unable to live on your own without a sire or mentor to protect you.”

“Still capable of making moral choices,” Uthe said. “Which I did. I killed my father right afterwards. I killed him, Kel, with that boy’s blood still on my lips. I can still taste it…”

God in Heaven, why had he thought that? His stomach heaved and he was off the rock, bent behind it, expelling what meager contents his stomach contained. He’d told Keldwyn he never wanted to be touched when revisiting those memories, but it was no surprise the Fae didn’t listen. When Uthe finished, he kept his head down, his fingers curled into the earth.

“Tell me,” Kel said quietly. “Take the burden off your soul.”

“No one can do that.” But Uthe relented. “My father was a Trad. It’s true that Trads have no regard for humans but, despite the scary bedtime stories about human massacres, only a few prefer to kill. Most Trads compel humans to them for food, wipe their memory and then release them. It’s simple common sense, because we can’t consume that much blood for a feeding, and we’re all cognizant of the dangers of exposing ourselves to the human race.”

He took a breath. “Some Trads are different. There’s the human who sits down to a steak, never thinking of the animal's state of mind before death, and a true sadist, who feeds on the fear and pain as much as the blood. My father was the latter. And perhaps that was why, as he got older and Ennui set in, he turned into what he did.”

As Keldwyn went still, Uthe nodded. “There is a very faint line between Ennui and the normal way a Trad thinks. I never noticed him crossing the line until he was there. We were solitary; he didn’t associate with other vampires. I thought they were all like that. At first, I just thought he was growing lazier. He’d go out to hunt and decide to take a child instead of an adult, claiming it was easier. Then he started ranting about pure blood being best, and a child had pure blood. He’d say, ‘Varick, what is the difference between the man who slaughters the calf and the vampire who kills a human infant? Both take the life of newborn food.’

“I was his son. It was how I was raised, yet his nurturing could not change my fundamental nature. Though I’d shared adult kills with him, I would not take a child. He saw how much it bothered me. That was when he started bringing them home. If I didn’t help him hold them, he’d make it worse for them, make them more afraid. He was too strong…I couldn’t stand against him, I didn’t think I could leave, I was too young. Dear God, a dozen useless excuses. My father realized tormenting me was far more entertaining than tormenting the children. The only upside to that was as long as I tore my soul to shreds and soothed the children, held them down for him, he would be satisfied and make their end quick. That was because he knew I’d be the one tortured for days afterwards. Fifteen of them in all before I acted, before I realized no matter how young I was or how powerful he was, I couldn’t bear it another day. I’d rather die.”

He stopped, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. A cup with sparkling water appeared by him, and when he lifted it to his lips and drank, it had a pleasing scent to it. He swished it around his mouth, and spit into the grass, wishing he could spit what had made him nauseous out also. “So there,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “My burden is all lifted now.”

Keldwyn’s hand rested on his back again. “I am honored you shared it with me. I like it when you call me Kel.”

Uthe shifted back to his heels and looked up, surprised. He didn’t see revulsion or condemnation in the Fae Lord’s face, or even pity. His dark eyes held a steady flame.

“Even just out of boyhood by vampire standards, you were an honorable male. An impressively strong one.” Keldwyn clasped his arm, gave it a hard squeeze. “You did know right and wrong, and you stopped him, even though it cost you a piece of your soul to do it. It was long ago, and I suspect you made your peace with it somewhere along the way. The demon is goading your doubts and guilt back to life for his own purposes. Let us get you some blood and you will have the strength to fight him as you have always done.”

“Sometimes I carry the burden of my task so close, it may seem that I don’t trust those who offer me help.” Uthe sank to one knee before Keldwyn and bowed his head. “If I forget that again during our journey together, I ask your forgiveness now, my lord.”

Keldwyn’s fingertips slid along his scalp, his nape, and he bent, pressing his lips to the crown of Uthe’s head. “You are welcome in my heart and soul, Varick.”

Gripping his wrist, Uthe pressed it against the side of his face, and nodded, holding that pose until he’d collected himself. “I fear age is making me mawkish, my lord.”

“Eh.” Keldwyn dismissed that. As Uthe let himself be helped to his feet, he was grateful that Keldwyn didn’t say anything further on the matter. The Fae Lord gestured toward a shallow creek. “We’ll go through this portal. It puts us close to where Evan is staying.”

“How do you know that?”

“I am an ancient Fae Lord. I know everything of import.”

“Except humility.”

“You have enough for both of us, my lord. Though I have to say your arrogant side, when it shows itself, is extremely stimulating.”

Uthe shot him a glance as they moved forward, which Keldwyn returned with an appraising look that stirred the blood. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Do. Remember, there is some disorientation…” Uthe stumbled, but Kel had him securely. When he straightened, they were no longer in the Fae world. They stood by a gurgling mountain creek, shadowed by a lacing of tall pines through which tiny shards of moonlight struck the water and glistened off the rocks embedded in the flow. A bird not yet fully roosted made questing chirps in the distance. The air was clean and tinged with fall coolness, the breeze sighing through the pine boughs.

“We’re in Tennessee,” Kel told him. “Evan’s mountain retreat.”

Uthe had never been there, though Evan had told him of it. As Kel and he navigated down a slope, the trees thinned and gave way to a cleared yard of grass and stone that overlooked a panorama of mountains, which at night presented in shades of gray outlined by the half-moon’s light. The cleared area had a picnic table, a well, and a sturdy, battered Jeep.

Uthe inhaled all the scents of the forest and…cookies. A scraping noise of wood and metal came from below, and Alanna, Evan and Niall’s servant, emerged seemingly from the hill beneath their feet. She moved several steps out of its shadow and turned to look up at them. A welcoming smile wreathed her lovely face, but Uthe saw concern behind the InhServ training. She was wondering at their sudden appearance here and what it might mean.

“My lord Uthe. You honor us with your presence.” Shifting her gaze to Keldwyn, she dipped her head respectfully. “As do you, Lord Keldwyn. Evan asked me to come out and greet you. He’s on his way down with Niall. He wanted to do his sketching at a spot higher up on the mountain today, something about the elevations giving him a different level of inspiration.”

If Uthe wasn’t Evan’s sire, Evan would not have been able to recognize him at a distance. He’d have only sensed a vampire had come into his area. If that had been the case, Uthe was sure Evan’s mental direction to Alanna would have been far different, a sharp order for her to remain inside and hidden until he and Niall arrived swiftly to determine what business brought another vampire up here. This was terrain through which a Trad might pass, since they avoided places of heavy human habitation. Trads didn’t believe in taking human servants, except for temporary amusement or attempts to breed, as in the case of Uthe’s father. Their respect for the third mark bonding between other vampires and their servants went only as far as that vampire’s proximity when the Trad encountered the servant. If the vampire was not present, the servant’s fate was far less certain.

Alanna was one of the most beautiful InhServs who’d ever been raised from childhood for vampire service. Dark red hair fell to her waist and framed a delicate face with doe-brown eyes. The lovely curves of her body were accentuated by a pale lavender tank top and dark blue jeans. She was a head-turner for anyone with a pulse. But an inanimate doll could be beautiful. What made her exceptional was the strength of character Uthe and the rest of the Council now knew lay beneath those delicate features.

Uthe remembered when she’d been brought before the Council. Lord Stephen had tortured her mind at length to avoid capture. She’d been so weak, she’d had to be carried to the Council chambers, but she’d knelt at Evan’s feet and spoken her devotion for him as her Master, even knowing her Fate was not her own. While there was still some debate among the Council as to the wisdom of assigning an InhServ to a vampire who had no political aspirations at all, Uthe knew this was the right match. Vampires lived a long time. There was no telling in what manner Evan would end up serving vampire kind, but Uthe had always had a high regard for the younger vampire’s strength of character and steady nature.

Alanna had since been restored to good health, though Uthe suspected her glow of contentment had as much to do with the two Masters she now served as the healing effect of time and Lord Brian’s medical acumen.

“I just finished a batch of cookies and I have some fresh lemonade. Can I offer you something?” Color tinged her cheeks, her eyes twinkling as she realized how it sounded, offering a Council member and the powerful Fae Lord a cookie.

“Of course,” Uthe said warmly. “Where did you come from?”

“Oh.” She gestured in front of her. “The house is built into the earth, my lords. It’s a cozy cabin but very rustic. If you’d like to come down here to the picnic table, you can see the door better. You’re welcome to come inside, but it’s such a beautiful night, it seems a waste of the moonlight to be indoors.”

“I agree.” The leap from the top of the hill to the lawn was fifteen feet, an easy thing for a vampire, like a leopard jumping out of a tree. Uthe hit the ground and one knee buckled. Keldwyn was at his side to keep him steady, a state of affairs that was beginning to irritate Uthe. Not the Fae’s touch, but his need for assistance. “I’m fine,” he said gruffly, shrugging away and moving to the picnic table. He refused to look and see if Alanna had noticed his clumsiness, though he hoped she’d gone back inside to get their refreshments. Pride was a useless emotion, yet he kept indulging it.