Chapter 20
Peter was not a fan of wildlife, mostly because wildlife could often sense that he was different from the average predatory human, and that could lead to him being found out among human circles. Faerie wildlife in particular was just too shimmery.
And yet, seeing Theodore’s eyes go wide with wonder at the sight of some deer was a treat the likes of which Faerie didn’t normally offer.
Lord Laurette had magicked a whole herd of them here, their coats a pure white or golden-brown with a metallic sheen.
The deer looked inclined to do the Elven lord’s bidding.
Either that or he had used magic to make them so.
In the troubling column of the day’s spreadsheet, Peter had seen no indication of Laurette using magic.
So much easier with human witches. So much easier to stop them when they need stopping.
“Up and on, everyone,” Laurette said as he swung himself onto a white doe.
Cloudtree easily sat upon an antlered stag, as did Getrude, and shifted Carl-Conrad moved between them, sniffing the air.
“Um.” Theodore clutched the shoulder strap of his bag and turned to look at Peter. “I…”
“Would you like to ride with me? Only because there are no saddles, of course.”
Theodore hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Peter was very aware that Laurette was watching them as closely as an old lady might a telenovela, but he ignored that, walked up to one of the stags that looked strong enough to carry them both, and lifted Theodore up by his hips.
“Oh, fuck, that’s—okay.”
Theodore’s eyes were wide. His hand sank into the fur where he placed them against the beast’s neck.
Peter made a mental note of that. People these days were so estranged from nature, but he had a feeling Theodore might enjoy meeting some wildlife face to face—maybe not to ride, but perhaps they could visit a zoo.
Typically, not all of the animals freaked out when they realized Peter was a vampire.
Reptiles in particular barely cared. A crocodile had even tried eating him once, but he had a feeling Theodore wouldn’t enjoy that kind of display.
Peter himself swung up behind Theodore quickly and without issue. It wasn’t a horse, but riding a horse was much like riding a bike, even though bikes were a much later fad. Riding magical Faerie deer wasn’t too different from either. He wound one arm around Theodore’s waist, holding him close.
Laurette nodded. “All right. Everyone, hold on. We’re going to move quick.”
At a nudge of his heels, Laurette’s deer galloped across the moors, followed by the others and by Carl-Conrad, who had to struggle to keep up. Peter couldn’t say for certain, but he had a feeling that the deer’s speed was boosted by magic.
Peter felt Theodore’s heels scrape against his shins and saw his hands dig into the stag’s neck. It was the reaction of someone who didn’t know how to use his thighs to hold on and had never experienced speed like this on horseback. He’d at least leaned forward though; a good instinctual reaction.
“I have you,” Peter whispered into his beloved’s ear, and just to show it, he tightened his hold on him.
Theodore didn’t say anything, but he was tense, afraid.
The brightness of Faerie made Peter squint, even as he was doing his best to pay attention to where they were going.
Laurette seemed to be enjoying the ride, the pink tips of his hair flying out behind him, and the Fae of course looked imposing, like a chiseled warrior ready to attend a victory parade.
They eventually slowed when the grassland gave way to cultivated fields. Peter saw sunflowers and grain, neatly maintained roads between them, and a few thatched cottages in the distance.
“The house is just a few paces yonder,” Cloudtree said, pointing and elegantly swinging off the stag’s back.
Theodore was breathing heavily. “Fuck. That was…” He shook his head. “I think I prefer the tram.”
“We’ll have you back home riding the tram soon enough.
” Peter said that, but he had no intention whatsoever of letting his beloved out of his sight once they returned, much less to ride the tram.
There might be explaining to do—maybe some groveling—and also, it seemed far wiser to make sure Theodore could get his degree without having to go to campus every day.
Really, it was excessive, all this in-person stuff, and Peter was determined to explain as much to Theodore’s professors.
He helped Theodore off the stag’s back first though, then slid off himself, landing with ease.
The others had dismounted, and while Laurette was waiting for them, Gertrude, Cloudtree, and Carl-Conrad were already making their way to the road, which was just a dirt road cut into the landscape by those Fae or servants who did the farming here.
Peter frowned. For all he knew, it could be human servants, captured to do the work here. Not that he should concern himself with any of that. He didn’t enjoy taking cases pro bono, but it made him wonder. He put one hand on the pommel of his sword, the other at the small of Theodore’s back.
Laurette waved his hand, and the deer ran back toward the woods.
“They’ll return if we need them. Theo, pull up your hood if you need to hide.”
Theodore touched the finely embroidered fabric of the cloak just above the clasp. “You’re telling me to hide in this? Like hiding under the blanket to get away from the monster that lives under your bed?”
Laurette smiled at them like a shark—one of the nice ones that didn’t make a point of eating people. “Yes, though we don’t get too many of those monsters in these parts. Friendly, some of them. Others…meh.”
He turned and strode off to catch up with the group. Theodore looked up at Peter.
“There isn’t really—that’s not real, right? Wait, no. Don’t tell me. Just nod and say okay. Don’t tell me anything. I really don’t want to know.”
Peter nodded. “Okay.”
Theodore stiffened. “Okay.”
He hurried after Lord Laurette, and Peter brought up the rear.
Faerie’s warm breeze caught Theodore’s borrowed cloak and blew it out behind him, and Peter thought, He truly does look like a prince.
Born to sit at the head of his own table and able to decide who he will go into battle with.
But no, Theodore isn’t a warrior. He’s one of the pretty, learned princes who come with their own castles, maybe a bit of land.
Peter wanted it to be a fantasy, but he also wanted it to be a reality. Then again, he knew Theodore wasn’t the castle-dwelling kind, nor the exclusively pretty kind. He was beautiful, but to Peter, he was much more than just a fancy dream.
All of a sudden, the ease of applying the blood eagle to a Fae chest mattered far less than convincing Theodore to sit on Peter’s lap wearing nothing but that soft green cloak.
Peter had not been to many of the courts of Faerie. In fact, his experience with that realm was limited, and he was glad about that. Still, the house to which Cloudtree led them was nothing like the shimmering castles or high-ceilinged halls of the Fae nobles Peter had encountered.
This house was only two stories and built of rough stone, with creepers having conquered much of the facade and several birds in turn nesting in those creeping vines. They flitted to and fro as the lot of them approached, going for the front door.
“Are we sure we don’t want to sneak in through the back?”
Peter hoped he wouldn’t be found too impolite if he didn’t address Laurette directly. The way Laurette’s eyes narrowed with that tiny smirk he was shooting in Peter’s direction told him he’d failed.
“I like going in through the front door. Don’t you? I mean, I suppose you don’t.”
Theodore snorted. “Not anyone’s business where and how he likes it.”
Laurette looked at Theodore as if he were an internet kitten. “Aww! You’re right. You know what my problem is?”
Theodore shrugged. “I figure Gertrude knows.”
Gertrude made a noise that spoke volumes.
Laurette ignored her. He covered his mouth with a hand and looked at Peter again.
“You know how to pick them. My. Anyway, my problem is my singlehood. Makes me all kinds of impatient. And unwilling to sneak when being direct will do. Not that I don’t like a nice back door. ”
He motioned for Theodore to pull up his hood. Theodore frowned and looked at Peter, who gave him an encouraging nod.
Cloudtree straightened while Gertrude put a hand on one of her hammers.
“I can knock. I will tell my brothers you are…friends.” Cloudtree said the word like the concept was new and foreign and totally strange.
Laurette shrugged. “Sure. We’ll be hiding behind you. Except for Gertrude. Gertrude, keep an eye out.”
They continued up the badly maintained stone garden path.
Weeds poked between the stones, and some had chipped and broken.
Peter raised his head, hating the brightness that was making him feel hungry, and saw that the windows of the house hadn’t been cleaned in a while either.
It wasn’t what he’d expected, not in Faerie.
The front door was solid wood, painted a dark brown that had once been lustrous but wasn’t anymore.
Paint had chipped from the top left corner.
Getrude pushed her coat back so she could easily reach her hammers, and Cloudtree raised his hand to the scratched-up metal knocker, lifting it and bringing it down three times.
Then they waited. And waited. Cloudtree turned, a tentative smile on his face. “They are never…fast.”
Theodore moved from one foot to the other. “We can break in through one of the windows, just break a bit of glass and—”
The door opened. Peter couldn’t see much, given Cloudtree was in his way, but he caught golden locks of hair—someone just as tall as Cloudtree, at least.
There was a brief pause, then: “There you are, Ash Mouth! Chambord and I had a bet going on whether we’d find you.” Another pause. “I won. I said you would return by yourself, tail between your legs. Not a very good tail, not very good legs, but no matter.”
Cloudtree half turned. “M-may I present my stepbrother, Miel.”
Peter considered himself something of an expert in categorizing people, and so he easily clocked Miel as a grade A douchebag.
He could see the Fae’s face now that Cloudtree had moved his shoulders, and he looked both mean and calculating.
He clapped his hands, eyes widening and face brightening with greedy glee.
“You brought us more servants! Not entirely a waste of space, then, are you, Ash Mouth? Come in, come in.”
Cloudtree hung his head. Next to Peter, Theodore tensed. Annoyingly, Carl-Conrad padded to Theodore’s other side, canine ears raised and looking as alert as a good hunting dog might.
Laurette was at best amused. He leaned toward Cloudtree as they crossed the threshold. “Ash Mouth?”
Peter caught Cloudtree’s blush. “It…it is…a name. For me. A name of familial…endearment.”
Bell-bright laughter followed, shattering Peter’s relief at being indoors, instead of outside where the brightness and the glare was.
The inside was a reception hall. The floor was tiled, and rough wooden benches sat against white walls with blue leaf patterns on them.
The floor tiles repeated the leaf patterns, and together with the arched ceiling, Peter could tell that this had once been a beautiful, even rich room, but now it was dirty and looked disused.
A small colony of spiders had woven their cobwebs in all the corners, and a burlap sack leaned against a wall, half-open, bug-eaten onions spilling out onto the floor.
They made the entire room smell like rotten onions.
“Endearment? I suppose. If you’d give your favorite washrag an endearing name.
Whence did you saunter off to, Ash Mouth?
We tracked you to the human plane, but there were just humans, and, oh!
I won’t tell, but Chambord is quite pleased with what we caught.
We’re waiting until Father comes home to show him.
” The blond Fae, who Peter was sure would look a lot better with his ribs cracked open, put an arm around Cloudtree’s shoulders.
“We’ll even give you some credit for leading us there.
You were good like a dog is good when he leads his master to a kill.
Maybe we’ll feed you nice table scraps for a week, hmm? ”
“Fucker,” Theodore said.
Miel looked at them. “What was that?” He looked right at Peter, and his lips curled.
“Did you ask to be fucked? You’re a bloodsucker, aren’t you?
I hear you’re quite fun. Friend of mine kept one of you in chains, said he lasted for a while and had the best mouth to take a cock after he’d taken out those sharp teeth. All muscle, he said.”
The baiting of an enemy either on the field of battle or when negotiating a ransom had been part of Peter’s earliest education, and he’d easily taken to it. It was why he recognized Miel as all shit and little substance, but Theodore, of course, had never had to ransom anyone.
“I’ll…I’ll…kill you. If you touch him.”
Theodore’s voice came out as little more than a tremor at the end. Peter wasn’t going to speculate as to why. He knew why. He’d decapitated the why not too long ago and gifted Theodore the head.
Laurette stepped into Miel’s line of sight even as Carl-Conrad circled to get into the Fae’s blind spot.
Laurette put a hand on the Fae’s chest. “Silly me. I suffer from ventriloquism when I’m excited. And I’m excited.”
Miel’s eyes settled on Laurette. Peter, as he put an arm around Theodore and drew him close, noticed that Gertrude had pulled a hammer out and was holding it loosely in one hand.
Miel looked at Laurette with the same excitement as a Victorian looked at his coke-laced cough medicine. He reached out and lifted Laurette’s hair so he could examine his ears.
“Thrilling. You’re an Elf! There’s barely a point to your ears. I’ve been wanting to bed one for the novelty of it. I wouldn’t normally, of course, but since Ash Mouth brought you…”
He shrugged in a way that said, Well, what else would we do if not fuck?
Seconds later, he started screaming. Gertrude had brought her hammer down on his knee, and it looked like she’d done some good damage with it.
Peter was ready to fight, but he couldn’t. Theodore had curled up against him, his head bowed. Peter felt his shivers, even under the cloak.
“Theodore, I have you. I have you.”