Night's Templar: A Vampire Queen Novel (Vampire Queen Series Book 13) (49 page)

As he headed back down through the tunnels, he was suddenly seized with a fear that the Shattered World would play tricks on him, change the track back to Uthe and keep him away from the vampire forever. But Uthe was still there. He also still had the dagger that Rail had given him. Keldwyn was going to use every possible advantage he had. When he pulled it from the scabbard, the blood on it made him pause, because Uthe had said he’d never used it to take a life, except for the one time with his squire.

It didn’t matter. Keldwyn wiped it off on his clothes, then drew the blade across his wrist, a deep cut that brought forth a swift gush of blood. Holding his arm over the Grail, he filled it halfway. He hoped it was enough. He didn’t dare wait any longer. Shifting Uthe back across his lap, he held the Grail to Uthe’s lips, cradling his jaw. It took some awkward maneuvering, but though Uthe couldn’t swallow, blood was draining down his throat.

“Live,” Kel muttered. He’d gone numb. There were things too large to be felt, so painful that they shut down everything else just so a person could keep breathing. But Kel knew firsthand it would be far more merciful if such a loss killed him outright, so he didn’t have to feel it when the numbness wore off. Because it would. It always did.

He kept the blood going down Uthe’s throat, putting aside the Grail when it was empty and bringing his arm directly to Uthe’s lips. He cut himself again to keep the flow going. The world started to swim, but he didn’t stop. It was the Shattered World, anything was possible. Maybe Uthe’s brain fever would infect him, and Kel could wander in an illusion where Uthe was still alive, and they were together. They’d exist forever in this hellish fantasy.

If they were together, it wouldn’t matter. There would be no Hell.

B
eing
dead wasn’t so bad. After impaling himself with the dagger, proving his willingness to take the innocent’s place, he’d swum out of the grayness to find himself by the altar. The Spear was in his hand and Keldwyn’s thunderous voice rocketed through him, bringing him back to what needed to be done. The Fae Lord would make a good battle commander, for his bellow could have carried over the clamor of two armies.

That was when Uthe realized he wasn’t dead. The dagger was metal, not wood, so he could feel the pain of the wound but it wasn’t mortal. Stabbing himself to prove he was a willing sacrifice, apparently that had been the important part. It had dislodged the innocent, snapping that tether so it could go free. Uthe could take care of other things now.

Things long overdue.

When Uthe shattered the skull with the spear, he watched the demon turn to smoke and get sucked through the floor. It was as if the Devil drew a deep breath and pulled him in. Uthe’s attention returned to the fight still in progress, and he plunged into the battle, joy surging through him at the chance to stand with his fellow Templars one more time.

He didn’t see Kel, Jacob or Gideon, but Jean-Claude shouted at him between thrusts of his sword and the clang of answering metal on his shield. “They disappeared—poof—in thin air.”

That meant they were no longer needed. The quest was done, and Rhoswen had likely pulled Keldwyn out of here. Good. The Fae Lord was safe. All was as it was meant to be, though a fierce ache gripped him as Uthe longed for that most precious commodity of all, the one so intimately connected to love—more time.

It was what it was. The Lord’s Will must be followed, and he’d been given more gifts than most, including love at the end of his life. He threw his strength and speed behind those still standing, and they fought and fought and fought. They battled as they’d done at Hattin, knowing the end would come here and, when it did, they would meet it with courage.

Jean-Claude, the strongest fighter of them all, was the last to fall. Though Uthe did his best to dispatch as many as he could, the Frenchman was at last overpowered, and Uthe faced a half-dozen Saracens alone.

He took down four. The other two maneuvered him out of the courtyard and into a tunnel where they thought they had the advantage. One had seized the Spear during their fighting in the bailey, and found the opportunity to stick the relic through him. He paid for it with his life, Uthe jamming his sword into the Saracen’s chest.

The Spear hadn’t gone through his heart, but the organ beat right up against it, a painful thudding. Then the last of the intrepid bastards grabbed the Spear and twisted it. The twisting ruptured the organ. Uthe decapitated the man in the same moment.

He supposed having his heart rupture from the force of the wood was as fatal to a vampire as a stake, because his vision grayed and he tumbled the rest of the way down the tunnel, ending up on the grass field next to the castle.

Being impaled on the Spear of Longinus has to carry some weight in Heaven,
non
? As Jean-Claude might say. Bernard had talked about being welcomed to the Virgin Mary’s arms in the afterlife. Uthe thought of his mother. He’d like to put his arms around her, hold her, thank her. She could have found ways to kill herself if she’d truly despaired. He was sure she’d known his father was going to kill her. He’d probably told her that himself, repeatedly. She must have known Uthe’s life would be difficult with such a sire, but maybe she thought he might have a chance at something better eventually. Which suggested she knew all vampires weren’t monsters like his father.

She’d given him a chance at life. He didn’t know if what awaited him was the Heaven Bernard envisioned or not, but if there could be a quiet meadow like where he and Kel had spent the day with Catriona and Della, and he could sit with his mother for a little while, that would be nice. Then he would stretch out in the meadow and think of Keldwyn. He’d let oblivion take him as he imagined the Fae against him, his arm around his waist and chest, holding him close. He could almost feel him doing it, his breath and heartbeat as close as a wish.

Everything after that, except for that brief thought of his mother, was quiet and dark, as if he were waiting. Perhaps that was how it went. You waited to see what your fate would be in this featureless stasis.

After a time, things started to feel different. He was more aware of his body, of his surroundings. Intriguingly, he still sensed someone holding him tightly, thanking all the gods that ever were for their mercy. Warm liquid splashed upon him, like a tear. Then things started to spin, get fuzzy, and he was drifting once more.

When he came back to awareness again, it was still dark, but that was because his eyes were closed. It took a while, but eventually he opened them to see what the afterlife looked like.

A blue sky and green trees. It looked much like the Fae world, everything far brighter and more vibrant than earth. The Fae didn’t spread out and change the face of things the way humans did with their technology. Despite that, Uthe had to admit he had the oddest desire for a soda. One Mariela had given him. What had she called it? Cheerwine. He thought of her curled up in the servants’ common area, watching the shows she liked. She didn’t know he occasionally tuned in to her mind, sitting unnoticed inside it to absorb the tranquility she had, at peace with herself, him and the world as it was.

Heaven had even more to offer him than he’d expected. His gaze slid left and he found Keldwyn. Unlike the last time he’d seen him, when they’d both been blood smeared and travel worn, the Fae was clean and as impeccably groomed as he normally was. His long, rippling hair was loose, and he wore one of his ruffled shirts unlaced in the front over those snug breeches that were so temptingly immodest. Perhaps Heaven had allowed Uthe to sleep until the end of Keldwyn’s life so they could be together. A fanciful thought. Their relationship in some ways had only just begun when Uthe had died. Yet seeing him now, he felt as bonded to Keldwyn as if they’d been intended for one another since the first skeins of time had been woven.

Keldwyn was tying ribbons on his wrists and arms. Tiny fairies fluttered in and out of Uthe’s field of vision like moths, bringing Kel strands of different colors and thicknesses. Uthe imagined all the places they’d found them: out of the shining hair of little girls, from rose-laden arbors at weddings, from cheerful gift packages and whimsical shoes.

What are you doing?

The Fae Lord’s gaze rose, and never had darkness held so much light. His lips curved, and he touched Uthe’s face before lifting his limp hand to press his lips to Uthe’s knuckles. Uthe couldn’t parse out the Fae Lord’s thoughts, but his expression said as much or more. There was a sheen to the dark eyes that Uthe realized with a shock might be tears.

“It is an old ritual,” Kel said, clearing his throat and blinking that sheen away. “There is a clan of the Fae who create tapestries of ribbons over and around the body of a loved one.”

What does it mean?
He didn’t have the strength to speak aloud yet, but he was glad Kel did. He liked hearing the male’s voice.

Kel’s lips quirked. “It is a sacred ritual to one of our clans, with much ceremony and structure to it. However, years ago, the original idea came about like a single flower, simple and spontaneous. It started with a human child. When her grandmother died, the little girl tied several ribbons from her hair to the body. She said she would hold onto one end so that she'd always be able to stay connected to her grandmother. In her mind, it was a real idea. To the Fae of that clan who witnessed it, it made an impression. A symbolic tether. When his mate passed, far before her time, he did it to give himself comfort. Then someone else did it, and it became part of their customs, the weavings and ribbons becoming ever more elaborate. Someone made up some spiritual reason for it, but all it means is the living need rituals to hold onto a loved one, even when death separates us."

“Am I dead?”

“No. But I have waited some time for you to wake. Nearly all morning. An eternity to me.”

Uthe’s fingers curved around Keldwyn’s. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

“You should be. I am a high Fae lord, not used to waiting on a lowly vampire.”

Uthe smiled, but he would not give himself to the moment yet. “The relics?”

“They are safe. We did remove them from the Shattered World, but they remain in the Fae world, out of reach of those who would use them for wrong purpose. You are considered their guardian still, Lord Uthe, and we will follow your guidance if you are dissatisfied with their placement.”

Trusting Kel, he accepted that they were secure for the time being. Uthe glanced down at the ribbons tied to his legs and arms. "You have spoken of wanting to bind me. I didn't expect you to turn me into a Maypole.” He was lying on soft grass, wearing a loose robe that Keldwyn had opened to place the ribbons upon him. Uthe was naked beneath the robe. But Uthe was even more naked in his thoughts. While Keldwyn was speaking of seemingly simple things, there was an intense restraint to his touch, like he wasn’t certain he could keep his touch gentle if he let loose his hold on those emotions. Uthe could feel the shape of them, like a dam set to overflow. It made him incapable of guarding his tongue.

“My episodes of Ennui, the forgetfulness… I think at times they are triggered by my fear of it happening at the wrong time, wrong moment. I do not fear that when you are by my side."

"Well then, that is where I shall stay. For I would not want your reputation of astounding courage to be tarnished."

"It could be awhile. I am immortal."

Keldwyn scoffed, though his eyes remained steady and focused on Uthe. "A vampire's immortality is but a child's life span next to a Fae's. Spending that time with you will be like taking a vacation, give or take a century. But I will make a demand of you.”

“Only one? It must be a slow day for you.”

“You goad my temper only because you think yourself spent,” Keldwyn said mildly. “Else you would not risk it.”

“You assume I’ve ever been intimidated by Fae arrogance,” Uthe informed him. “Power is in the hands of the Lord. You may decimate me, my lord, but I was ever only dust.”

“Not to me.” Keldwyn closed his hand over Uthe’s, and the strength of his grip brought Uthe’s eyes back to him. “Though if you know anything of me, you know how highly I prize the earth. But I would ask that you attend to my words seriously, as they are meant.”

“Of course.” Uthe sobered. “I did not mean to hurt you, Kel.”

“You have the ability to do that, vampire,” Keldwyn said after a weighted moment. “My soul is in your hands, and I demand you not take it anywhere I cannot be with you. Varick… I want you to give me your third mark. Bind us permanently, in the way of your kind.”

Uthe stared at him. “The Ennui is affecting my brain, my lord. I thought you just asked to be third-marked.”

“Your mind is sharp as necessary, and you heard me correctly.”

“Ennui is degenerative. If it accelerates to violent mood swings, savage acts of sadism and total apathy to a moral code, I was relying on you to take my life, if I did not have the clarity to do it myself.”

Kel’s expression darkened, but he inclined his head. “You may still rely on me for that.”

“Kel, with the third mark, if I die, you die. That’s the way it works. I’m not sure even a powerful Fae would be exempt from the pull of that bond.”

“I’m fifteen hundred years old, Lord Uthe. Do you think I have not lived long enough?”

“Perhaps I don’t want to be stuck with you for all eternity,” Uthe retorted, “especially if it’s true that the mark is not severable, even after death.” But his hand constricted on the Fae’s. “You could never live long enough, my lord.”

Kel’s eyes gleamed. “Perhaps it is no request, but a demand I make of you. Though it may not be a problem, regardless. You drank from the Grail and the power of it gave you back to me. Perhaps the Ennui was eliminated with it, or its acceleration arrested for a time.”

All attempt at humor disappeared. “You had me drink from the Grail?” Uthe tried to struggle up, but found he was still terribly weak. Even the ribbons impeded him. He shoved Kel’s hands away from him, though, managing to sit up on his own. “What if it only has a limited amount of magic to give?
Not for me, but to God goes all the glory.
I would not have taken from it. You know that.”