Chapter 19
Fly
Grayson dreamed of flying. He could feel the wind rushing over him and under him.
The tips of his wings–wings?--fluttered as the wind whistled past them.
One of the massive forests of the Ever Dark was spread out below him like a sea of green.
And beyond that was the real sea. Waves topped with white creamy froth breaking against pale, stone beaches.
He banked and could see a city in the distance.
Not his own. Not Foresworn or Nightvallen either. It was Destiny.
He was in Destiny…
Grayson’s eyelids fluttered open and he stared up at the high ceiling.
There was a carving there. A young-looking man levitating dozens of feet above the beach, a raven on his shoulder, soul gems floating around him as he stared out at the roaring sea.
He blinked. The ceiling was pure white stone. No carving there at all.
Did I dream that, too? Why do both things feel so real to me?
Something soft rubbed against one hand and then he felt a rough tongue licking his other.
He craned his neck down. A Dire Wolf was sprawled on the bed beside him, massive head resting on his thighs.
Khos’ tongue lolled out as the Dire Wolf gazed back at him lovingly.
He could feel Khos’ thoughts. He lightly touched Khos’ mind.
Telling the Dire Wolf that he was loved and adored.
How handsome and powerful he was. He ran his fingers through the thick fur.
And how soft. Khos gave him a grin and sent him thoughts of them hunting side by side.
They brought down a beast and Khos even allowed him the heart.
“You’re awake,” Ryder’s voice was soft, gentle, loving.
Grayson blinked and smiled. He turned his head.
Ryder had dragged a chair over and was sitting beside him, drinking blood wine.
Grayson stared at that familiar visage that was somehow so different now.
His Vampiric senses had returned. While Ryder had always looked handsome, now he looked angelic.
He could see the different shades of silver in his eyes.
The way his beard was cut so perfectly along his chin.
The fullness of his lips. The line of his cheekbones.
His throat and the pump of blood through his veins…
He shook himself. He was hungry. As a newborn that was to be expected.
He remembered how hungry his Children had always been.
And he sensed he needed more because he had been drained so thoroughly by the Ever Dark.
But now his body was able to accept the power the Ever Dark offered him even as it took something from him.
“How are you feeling?” Ryder asked.
“Good.” Seeing a slight eyebrow lift from Ryder, he laughed and said, “I really am!”
“Hmmmm.”
“I’m not exaggerating, Ryder. I promise. I know I’ve claimed to be well when I wasn’t in the past, but there’s no need for me to do that now,” Grayson assured him.
“Your heart is strong. Your blood,” Ryder closed his eyes and listened, “is flowing well. Your scent is right. But I can tell you are still quite exhausted.”
“That I cannot deny. I’m trying to remember with Dani if she was tired. She slept for days. Almost a week, just waking to nurse from me, and little else.” He smiled at the memory. “And then, one night, she sprang up, practically quivering with strength, needing to go everywhere and do everything.”
“I’ve had a few like that myself,” Ryder nodded. He reached over and ran a hand over Grayson’s head. “You rest as much and as long as you need.”
“Why are you there and not in bed with me and Khos?” Grayson demanded with what seemed like the formation of a pout on his lips. He did not pout. But evidently he did.
“I did not want to wake the two of you sleeping beauties.”
“Well, we are awake now. Come to bed. At least lay down next to us. I want to be cuddled,” Grayson said.
The great Ashyr asking to be cuddled? Had he ever asked for that?
He doubted it, but he knew he’d wanted it in the past. Now he most certainly wanted it.
Needed it. Ryder kicked off his boots and went around the other side of the bed and climbed on.
He slid over so that he was right next to Grayson.
He carried the glass of blood wine and the carafe.
He situated the carafe between his thighs so that it wouldn’t spill.
Grayson inched up just as Ryder slid an arm around his shoulders.
He rested his head against Ryder’s chest. Ryder cradled him tenderly.
Grayson gave out a hum of pleasure. He rubbed his cheek against that powerful chest and found himself sticking his nose against Ryder’s skin and just breathing him in.
As a human, he knew Ryder’s smell, but as a Vampire it was utterly different.
So much more complex and fascinating. Spicy and citrusy.
But there were more layers. Musk and sweat.
He was definitely aroused being near Grayson, which was utterly pleasing.
And there was another smell, a deeper smell. Grayson smiled.
“I can feel you smiling very broadly as you–you sniff me,” Ryder chuckled.
“You can tell everyone apart by their scent. I didn’t disbelieve you, but I admit that this was well beyond me before. But now, I can smell so much more,” he said. “And I can tell,” he took in another breath, “that you have just turned someone.”
Ryder chuckled some more. “Oh? Are you sure that isn’t just because you know I’ve turned someone?”
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s similar to a new mother’s scent. Not exactly. Don’t worry! You don’t smell like milk or baby spit up or whatever,” Grayson assured him, laughing too. “But you’re carrying more blood, I think.”
Ryder’s eyebrows lifted. “Ah, that… that makes sense!”
“Yes, I think it does. You need to feed two and your body is adjusting to allow that,” Grayson said, pleased and feeling a little shy about knowing this, too, for some reason.
“And I think your scent has slightly altered as well now that you’ve turned me.
I can’t explain it. It’s like there’s something of you in me and me in you. ”
“Yes, our blood exchange has done that, though I wish to have more of you in me. Artemis…” Ryder shook himself. “But that will be for later. You need to drink for now. I’m being well fed by our host.”
Ryder lifted up the glass full of blood wine. Grayson could smell the sweet coppery scent of it on Ryder’s breath. His stomach rumbled. He reached for the glass. Ryder looked at his hand skeptically.
“I don’t know if you can have this yet,” Ryder said.
“Let’s see.” He wiggled his fingers.
“Don’t you want me to feed you?” Ryder asked even as he handed the glass over.
“Absolutely. I cannot wait to feed from every inch of you. But I am not certain how much time we have here before the danger to Eyros and his people is too great,” Grayson explained. “We must both be well fed quickly.”
Ryder stiffened. “You think the Kaly can get in here?”
“I think they must at some point. Eyros died in Solace,” Grayson said as he sat up so that he didn’t choke on the wine. “He’s holed up here and intends to stay and never leave. So how does he get there? How does he become moldering bones and Elgar… Well, how does that all happen?”
“Maybe he chooses to go there,” Ryder suggested.
But Grayson shook his head. “Eyros is not a coward, but he knows what happens to him there. He won’t be rushing to the Spire anytime soon unless he has no choice.”
He brought the cup to his nose and sniffed it.
His eyelids fluttered shut. The scent of it was so familiar and amazing.
He knew the grapes that had been used in its making were grown not far from here on a slope that caused the vines to struggle and thereby become all the richer in flavor.
The blood was from–he drew in a deep breath–a person who was in the peak of health.
Without opening his eyes, he took a sip of the blood wine and held the liquid in his mouth.
It coursed over his tongue. It coated his palate.
He swallowed it down. It left a trail of heat in its wake and pooled warmly in his stomach.
He waited to see if there were any ill effects.
One moment passed then another and another.
His system did not reject it. He actually felt quite a bit hungrier for more.
He took another sip and monitored that one too.
“Well?” Ryder sounded anxious.
“Okay so far,” he answered and opened his eyes. “I should drink as much from you as possible though, but this will do in a pinch.”
“Yes, I wanted to give you as much strength as possible,” Ryder said and took the glass from his hands. He downed it.
“Not at the expense of your own,” Grayson said. “I doubt I will be anywhere near full health and power myself for some time. I’ll need you to be strong for the both of us.”
“I will be. I asked more blood wine to be brought and Eyros agreed to give me access to several of his Acolytes later,” Ryder explained.
“That’s generous of him,” Grayson said.
“It is.” Ryder poured another glass and let Grayson drink half of it before he handed it back to Ryder to finish and refill. “We’ve asked a lot of him.”
“I know. Considering how close he is to all that’s happened, I’m rather amazed he could trust us so much,” Grayson admitted.
Ryder drained another glass. “We talked.”
Grayson stilled. “Oh?”
“It was good. Sort of. He’s not exactly ready to welcome me as his brother with open arms again, but… but we’re somewhere other than the white, hot hatred stage,” Ryder explained.
Grayson let out a breath. “That’s good. That’s really good. Not that it matters so much considering how Balthazar feels–”
“It does matter,” Ryder said. He scrubbed his face with one hand. “Maybe he can avoid remembering the past forever. I put nothing beyond him. But I also feel as if I have cheated somehow. He accepts me because he does not remember what he lost because of me.”
“He didn’t–”