Dance in the Dark (44 page)
Johnnie said nothing, simply fought not to black out.
"Now, you paragon of beauty," Ekaterina quoted mockingly, "this is the end of you."
Johnnie looked up, forced his eyes to focus, then simply smirked.
Ekaterina frowned.
"Let him go."
The voice made Ekaterina jump, and accidentally let go of Johnnie—and then Bergrin had her, yanked her around, grasped the sides of her face and forced her to look up into his eyes. His hazel eyes became pools of shimmering white. "Look into my eyes, and see your soul reflected."
For a moment, there was silence—then Ekaterina screamed in a way that Johnnie would not forget for the rest of his life. It was terrified, broken, desperate, worse by far than all the screams he had thus far heard Grim induce.
He turned his head away and clapped his hands over his ears when he could take no more. But when the awful sound finally cut abruptly off, the heavy silence that followed almost seemed worse.
Then familiar hands grasped his shoulder, hauled him up, and wrapped around him. Johnnie held fast, voice thin and hoarse as he said, "Took you long enough, babysitter."
"I'll be faster next time, Highness," Bergrin said gruffly, hugging him tighter still.
Johnnie coughed. "You had better. Take us home."
Without a word, Bergrin obeyed.
The house, when they arrived, was to all appearances back to normal. A servant, arms piled with clothes and other things taken from the ball room, stopped as he saw them. "Master Johnnie, your father said that you could find them in the front room when you arrived."
"Thank you," Johnnie replied. Unwilling to let go of Bergrin's hand, he led the way to the immense living room at the front of the house.
In the center of the room, across a massive oriental rug, were two couches and half a dozen chairs. Scattered about on the furniture were Ontoniel, Elam, Rita, Phil, and Zach. "The others?" Johnnie asked.
"Sent home," Ontoniel replied. "It was not hard to convince them that the party extended into a two day affair, and they got carried away. People tend to prefer to accept the easiest explanation handed them."
Elam stirred in his chair. "Except for Ekaterina's parents. They are dead."
"I tried," Bergrin said sadly. "My mother tried, but she said they were doomed the moment they fell victim to the curse. Whatever else might have happened, their fate was sealed."
"That is unfortunate," Johnnie said quietly. "What will become of their territory?"
Ontoniel sighed, and leaned back in his own chair, a black armchair positioned closest to the enormous fireplace. "That is a mess for me to straighten out another day. It will not be the first time I have dealt with such a mess. Elam, you may assist me if you like; it would be good experience for you."
"Of course, Father," Elam said.
Johnnie nodded, and turned to Phil and Zach. "I am surprised you both are still here."
Phil tapped her forehead. "We've been chatting. Oh!" She snapped her fingers, then fumbled through the pile of jacket, purse, and high-heeled shoes next to her on the couch, finally coming up with a familiar book. "Chris sent this; he said to tell you it looks like the west is well on its way to having a fine abnormal detective of its own."
"Tell him thank you," Johnnie said, unable to say anything more. "For all his help, and Jed as well."
"We will," Phil said, "after he's done yelling at us. Maybe."
Zach snorted. "On that note, we really should be going. We are glad you've made it safely back, Johnnie. We'll see you again, sometime. Thank you both, for saving us."
"Thank you," Johnnie said. "I am sorry—"
"No need," Phil cut in. "We'll see you around, babe."
Then they were gone, leaving only Johnnie and his family.
"I hope," Ontoniel said into the silence, "that we have had enough upheaval in this family to last us for the next few centuries. I would prefer the only problems to be dealt with in the future all pertain to wedding plans. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Father," Elam and Johnnie chorused.
Ontoniel nodded. "I am certain I do not need to ask, but I will anyway—Ekaterina is definitely dead?"
"Yes," Bergrin said.
"What about the damned mirror?"
Johnnie reached into his pocket and pulled out the cheap compact, then strode to the enormous fireplace and pitched the mirror into the flames. "Destroyed," he said, turning around and facing Ontoniel.
"Good," Ontoniel said. "Rita, Bergrin. Welcome to the family. I am sorry you were introduced to us amidst so much turmoil."
"My lord," Bergrin murmured, as Rita bowed her head and said the same.
Ontoniel smiled faintly, then slowly stood up. "I think we have all had quite enough for now. I am going to bed, hopefully to rest properly. I expect to see
everyone
at breakfast, nine o'clock sharp."
"Yes, Father."
"My lord."
"Good," Ontoniel said, and with a nod, left the four of them alone.
Johnnie stripped off his coat and hat, tossed them into an empty chair, then strode to the mini-bar in the corner and poured a double. Knocking back the vodka, he then flopped down on the leather sofa recently vacated by Phil and Zach.
Bergrin sat down next to him, and slid an arm around Johnnie, pulling him flush against Bergrin's side. Johnnie approved, and leaned against him, wanting to crawl into bed but deciding that took entirely too much effort at the moment.
He looked at Elam, then at Rita, then back at Elam. "She is far too good for you."
Elam gave him a withering look, and did not deign to reply.
Rita laughed. "He is not
all
bad, I promise."
"I will take your word for it," Johnnie said. "But in return for breaking his curse, I fully expect you to make him a nicer person."
"Then I fully expect having a bodyguard lover to make you a more sensible person," Elam retorted.
"Ha!" Bergrin said.
Johnnie scowled and elbowed him, then pulled away, knocking Bergrin's hand away when he tried to pull Johnnie back. "You are supposed to take my side. Sit all by yourself."
Bergrin smiled. "How about if I said I like you when you aren't being sensible? A sensible man would have refused me." The heat in his eyes made it clear as to which times he was primarily referring that Johnnie should have refused.
"I think you have the same amount of sense, come to that," Johnnie said, but let Bergrin pull him close again.
Elam looked at them in disgust. "Do you always act like you are twelve?"
Rita's laughter cut off Johnnie's scathing retort.
"I think you are conveniently forgetting all of our antics, dear. What about that night we got drunk and played chopsticks for god knows how many hours?"
"You are supposed to take my side," Elam said, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at her.
Rita smiled and patted his cheek. "If you say so, darling."
Elam covered her hand with his own, meeting her eyes for a very long moment.
Johnnie turned away, giving them their space, and found hazel eyes watching him. He smiled. "I am glad it is all over."
"Me too," Bergrin said. "Please try to stick to only stupid, easy cases for a bit."
Johnnie smirked. "If you insist. I
had
thought I would simply avoid taking any for a week or two, but—"
Bergrin bit his lip, then kissed him, briefly but with heat—and promise of all the things he would do, once they had the energy to do them.
Johnnie turned back to Elam and Rita, as he saw them stand. Elam caught his eyes, though Johnnie did not know if it was by accident or design. They stared at each other a moment, then Elam nodded and said gruffly, "Good night, Johnnie."
"Good night, Ellie."
Then they too were gone, leaving Johnnie alone with Bergrin. "You will have to tell your mother thank you for me."
"I will," Bergrin said. "She will want to meet you and your family, sometime."
Johnnie snorted. "My father already has the dinner half-planned. That is probably the main reason he wants us all at breakfast."
Bergrin tugged until Johnnie was sprawled in his lap and then buried his face in the crook of Johnnie's neck. Johnnie held on tight, just because he could, just because it was hard to believe he could.
"I cannot believe—" Bergrin cut himself off.
"What?" Johnnie said, combing through the soft mess of curls.
Bergrin looked up. "This. You. The son of a Dracula is not supposed to pick me. The Dracula is not supposed to give his approval. After all this mess, after everything went wrong, I did not ever think I would wind up in the Dracula's living room with his spoiled brat son in my lap."
Johnnie tugged on the curls he had just been petting. "When did I ever care about all that? If my father ever cared, he does not now." He fell silent, then added quietly, "She called me Snow White. I wonder what made me that, instead of the Evil Queen."
"You could never be evil, Johnnie. You're entirely the wrong sort of arrogant for that."
"It would not have been so hard," Johnnie argued. "Wanting what others have—the magic, the talent, the fitting in by right of birth—"
Bergrin cut him off with a snort. "Even if that were remotely possible, I would not allow it. You're only cute when you're
mostly
obnoxious, not entirely. All that aside, dating death is totally taboo, so the rest is completely moot."
"I do not care anyway," Johnnie replied, then quoted teasingly, "For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings/That then I scorn—" His words were cut off by a kiss, but Johnnie did not mind. "Take me to bed, Grim."
Bergrin smiled and kissed him again. "As you wish, Highness."
Fin
Megan grew up a military brat and traveled extensively with her family. She is now firmly settled in Ohio, with two roommates and their four cats. She has always been book obsessed, and writing obsessed since she first gave it a whirl in college. Romance and fantasy are her primary obsessions, but she's game to write just about anything and enjoys a challenge. She is a sucker for stories of enemies becoming lovers. When not writing, Megan is drinking too much coffee, reading still more books, and harassing family and friends, or otherwise doing whatever possible to avoid editing.
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