Starlight(Pact Arcanum 4) (19 page)

Rafael fell into the desk chair and laid his head in his hands. “This can’t be happening.”

Antonio sat down on the bed across from him. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way. I planned out the perfect way to tell you a thousand times, but it never seemed right.”

Rafael sat up and let his hands fall into his lap. He faced Antonio with a resigned expression. “All this time, you’ve been trying to get me to fall out of love with Toby so I could fall in love with you.”

Antonio sighed. “That was the plan.” He smiled sadly. “Stupid, huh?”

Rafael shook his head. “Not stupid. Just unrealistic.” He reached out and took Antonio’s hands in his. “Antonio, what you’re describing is a crush. You’re not a teenager. You should know that real love can’t be orchestrated. It has to grow, and be nurtured by both sides until it bears fruit, or it isn’t really love at all.”

“I suppose,” said Antonio, his vision blurring. “Do you really think I’m that shallow?”

Rafael let go of his hands and wiped away Antonio’s tears with a gentle sweep of his thumb. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I love you.”

Rafael froze, and then pulled his hands back from Antonio’s face. “No, you don’t, Tony. Not the way you mean.”

“How do you know?” Antonio took a deep breath. “Maybe you’d believe me if you let me show you how I feel.”

Rafael raised an eyebrow. “You’re not asking me to sleep with you, I hope? Because that’s not going to happen.”

Antonio gave him a weak grin. “I’m not that easy, Raf. You have to at least buy me flowers first.” His gaze sharpened. “You could join me in a double bridge.”

Rafael blinked, then sat back in his chair. “Are you serious?”

Antonio watched him expectantly.

“Damn, you are. A double bridge isn’t something to enter into lightly. That level of truth can cement a relationship or tear it apart. Are you willing to take that risk?”

“What do I have to lose?” Antonio laughed harshly. “We aren’t ever going to be the same after this, anyway. Might as well go for the gold.”

Rafael was silent, considering it. Finally, he nodded. “All right, if it will put this to rest.” He frowned. “Have you even fed from the vein before?”

Antonio rolled his eyes. “I’m not a complete naïf. I’ve fed from others in Chiron colony and in flight between systems. I know how.”

“I’m not doubting you. But Layla was pretty clear with her instructions when you were growing up. You were going to be a new beginning for our people, so she didn’t want you to learn the old ways.”

“I had to grow up sometime.”

Rafael nodded. “Yes, you did.” He undid his top button and exposed his throat. “You can go first, just in case.”

“Show a little trust, why don’t you?” Antonio leaned forward, baring his fangs, and bit down into the flesh of the Nightwalker’s neck. Then he began to feed.

The bridge opened between them, and Antonio saw the memories that Rafael shared with him, spanning their entire friendship. In return, he offered his memories of the same events, along with the wonders he had seen in his travels.

Then he felt a surprisingly sharp pain in his own neck as Rafael began to feed. The blood magic doubled and redoubled, binding them together, mind and spirit. For a single timeless instant, they knew everything about each other, encompassing each of the nuances of love and trust they had shared in their lives.

And then it all went terribly wrong.

C
HAPTER 28

September 2142; Sanctuary, French Alps

Nick was patiently working his way through the latest immigration reports when a soft knock at the door of his office interrupted his thoughts. “Enter.”

Rory opened the door and entered the office. Nick stared at him, then shut down his workstation.

“Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t want you here,” said Nick sternly.

“And I don’t want you here either, Nicky,” said Rory, unperturbed. He dropped into one of the chairs next to the desk. “You should have stayed, so we could talk about our problems like adults and come to a resolution.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “You know I hate it when you call me ‘Nicky’.”

“You like it when you’re being punished.”

Nick sat in the chair opposite to Rory. “You’re not actually going to taunt me with our sex life, are you? I’m not ashamed of anything I’ve done with either of you.” He smirked. “Or both at once.”

Rory snorted. “Touché.”

Nick’s mood grew more somber. “I’m sorry. I should never have run out like that without an explanation.”

“I think it was pretty clear that you were angry.”

“But not at you.”

Rory studied his face for a few moments. “Are you going to explain that?”

Nick sighed. “Luscian is part of me, Rory. His knowledge, his strength, yes, but also his rage and hatred. Sometimes, I think I can almost hear his voice, the way he laughed as he bled me. You and Ruarc, you keep me grounded.”

Rory watched him appraisingly. “You have command hallucinations?”

Nick shook his head. “No, I’m always in control, and Jeremy assured me that there was no organic damage to my mind. The problem is more spiritual.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “The Crown of Souls was his for millennia. A mystical prison for the souls of his enemies. But it picked up traces from him, too. His voice haunts me, keeping his hooks in my subconscious. If I’m weak, then he might tempt me into doing something we would all regret.”

Rory nodded, apparently considering how this knowledge fitted in with his experience. “Who else knows?”

“Rafael and Jeremy first figured out what was happening. They helped me control the nightmares, just by being there when I slept. I was a wreck when Jeremy died. I compensated by throwing myself into his work, just so I wouldn’t have to feel anything that would give Luscian an opening. Then you and Ruarc came into my life, and you became my anchors.

“I have lost everyone I ever loved. For a while, even you two, when he was busy being Imperator and I was too proud to admit that I should never have asked you to bring Toby back.”

“You didn’t speak to me about anything personal for years after that,” said Rory. His voice was carefully neutral. “You have no idea how much that hurt.”

“I know, and I’d take it back if I could. Eventually, I let you both back into my life, and I was happy again. I had reclaimed two of the people who meant the most to me. Then, after the birthday party, I thought you had prevented me from getting back one of the others.”

“Revenant isn’t Toby.”

“I know. I spoke to him, and he made it pretty clear. But for a moment, all I could see was you standing in my way. The rage was too near to the surface. I left to stop myself from letting it out.”

Rory sighed. “What can I do?”

“You can give me some space, and let me work this out on my own. I never want to raise a hand to you, Rory.”

Rory looked thoughtful. “Nick, I am the Redeemer. Nothing can hurt me permanently. Maybe, if you let some of the rage out, it will take the pressure off.”

Nick stared at him in horror. “Are you offering to be my punching bag, Leshir?”

Rory said nothing.

“Don’t you ever say that to me again.” Nick stood and glared down at his lover. “You will never offer yourself to me as a sacrifice. Never. Do you understand?”

Rory shrugged. “It was only one possibility.”

“No it wasn’t. It was a foul, poisonous thing you just said, and if I ever took you up on it, I would become just as evil as Luscian was.”

Rory met his eyes, unafraid. “All right, Nicholas. I’ll stay out of your way. I just wish there was something more I could do.”

“There’s nothing. As long as the Crown is tied to my soul, that’s just the way it is.”

Rory got to his feet. “Then I guess I’ll get started on this invest—” Then he staggered.

Nick caught him as he fell and eased him to the floor. “Rory, what’s wrong?”

The gloves Rory was wearing burst into flame, and the harsh white light of the Grace filled the room, exploding from his palms in a spherical shockwave that rattled the windows. Then the light faded, and Rory was left shivering in Nick’s arms.

Nick held him tight. “Leshir, talk to me. What happened?”

Rory forced himself to speak. “The Grace. It struck along a spiritual connection, just like it did during the Burning. I saw his memories as he burned.”

Nick tried to keep the dread from his voice. “Who was it?”

Rory looked up at him, his eyes wide and fearful. “Nick, I’m sorry. I don’t know why it happened.”

Nick swallowed. There was something raw and terrified in his lover’s eyes, and Nick knew the answer before he asked. There were not many Nightwalkers he kept close to his heart. “Who was it, Rory?”

Rory closed his eyes and turned away. “Rafael.”

C
HAPTER 29

September 2142; Jumpvessel
Singularity
, Hephaestus Station, lunar orbit

The bridge was burning.

They were trapped in the center of the psychic span. There was a moment when Antonio could have escaped, but he clung to Rafael’s screaming spiritform as it writhed in agony. He could only watch helplessly as the white fire consumed his mentor’s mind and memories, while he remained untouched.

The circle of flames closed in on them as more of Rafael’s life was scorched away. Antonio could feel the power draining out of the Nightwalker’s spiritform, the vampire’s psychic image becoming more insubstantial as he watched. He looked out at the sea of blazing light as it marched inexorably closer. Finally, the flames scant inches away, he let go of Rafael and stood over him, his fists clenched as he screamed his defiance at the boiling conflagration. “I won’t leave! You take him and you take me, too!”

The firestorm froze in place, and the heat disappeared, along with the roaring of the flames. Then a pure, white light illuminated the bridge, softer than the harsh, actinic white of the fires that surrounded him. A voice echoed in his mind, filled with a subtle music he couldn’t quite make out.

“Ask and ye shall receive.”

Antonio lowered his fists. “Who are you? The White Wind? Another angel?”

“No.”

“Who then?”

“I am the scales and the sword of Justice, the power that you know as the Grace. Be at peace, Master. You will not be harmed.”

Antonio snarled as he understood. “You’re the Grace? And you’re judging him? You gave a second chance to Nightwalkers that have killed millions over the years! What has he done that is so bad that he can’t be forgiven?”

“Nothing. If he had been touched by the scales, he would have survived my judgment. But you do not wield the scales, Master. You touched him with the sword, and so he must die.”

“You’re speaking in riddles. Tell me what you’re talking about!”

“The Redeemer’s power is that of the scales. A scion of the Red Wind touched by that aspect of my power would face judgment, but yet may still have been found worthy of redemption. But you are not the Redeemer. You are the Harbinger come round at last, the final retribution. Your power is that of the sword. Your touch brings death to all the Children of Darkness.”

Antonio looked down at Rafael lying at his feet, features frozen in a rictus of pain. He looked out at the flames in horror. “I did this to him?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“He fed upon your blood and was cursed.”

“Lots of people have fed on my blood. It never did anything to them!”

“But never a Child of Darkness, Master. He is the first of your enemies to taste your true wrath.”

Antonio was about to deny it, but then realized that the voice was right. There had been only a handful of people with whom he had ever been comfortable enough to share his blood, and never at this terminus of his trips, under the watchful eye of his mother. There were no Nightwalkers outside the Solar system. It was a Guild regulation to facilitate the Great Work.
It’s true. I did this.
He looked out again over the endless expanse of the fire he now knew to be the Grace. “Not him. You can have any of the others, but not him. Please. Let him go.”

“Master, you are the Harbinger. It is your destiny to usher in a new age of peace by cleansing this world of the Red Wind. Why would you spare this scion of theirs?”

Antonio wept, standing over Rafael, in the center of the flames. “Because I love him. I always have.”

The voice was silent for a time. Perhaps it was shocked.
“Master, I cannot save him. He is already filled with your power. A single drop would have sealed his death. He has tasted enough of your blood to smite an entire army. He can live only if you draw away the poison into a suitable vessel.”

Antonio’s head snapped up. “What kind of vessel?”

“Something similar enough to your blood that it may absorb my power and harbor the curse.”

“My blood is a mixture of vampire and Sentinel mystical signatures. There’s nothing in the world that is anything like Starchild blood!”

“Except Starchild blood, itself.”

Antonio forced away his panic and tried to think. “The other Children of Starlight don’t have this power?”

“No, only you are the Harbinger. This is your Gift alone. The others were meant to live in the world that you will create.”

“How do I draw off the power to them?”

“Master, if you pass my power to your brethren, then their blood will become as yours: lethal, no matter how infinitely diluted.”

“Will it hurt them?”

“No. The Children of the White Wind will be unaffected. But you will condemn them to become weapons of war, instruments of the White Wind, just as Narissa committed her people to become Sentinels unto the last generation. This is not the purpose for which they were created.”

“I don’t care. Just let him live.”

“Is this truly your will?”

“Yes.”

“Very well, Master. Your fealty is accepted. The Children of Starlight will answer to you, and through you, to the White Wind. Reach out to your soldiers and cast yourself into the fire. My power will be drawn along the spiritual links to ground itself in their bodies.”