Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
The light of the tent barely touched the heights of the trapeze act. Takashi stepped onto his platform and lifted his hand as the ringleader continued his long speech about the performers’ pedigree. All of it bullshit. All of it just a lie for the audience. Takashi hadn’t brought any “mystic arts” to their act; he had learned everything from Sergei and his family when he joined the circus at twelve.
But he acknowledged the crowd, then his fellow performer, and waited for his cue. The circus’s musician hit a gong, and Takashi was off, flying through the air on the trapeze.
Memory took on the elements of dream; what had been warped with what his mind concocted. Instead of Sergei, Takashi clapped hands with Zack at the end of a flip. Zack nodded to him and held on to him with a strength that eased Takashi’s worry. When the time came, as they soared through the air to the next maneuver, Zack released him on cue.
Takashi flew, twisting as he had in practice a thousand upon a thousand times, and stretched for his next partner. Nothing brushed his fingertips. He searched the sky and saw Roger grasping for him but failing. Takashi was sinking, plummeting, becoming a comet for the hard-packed earth that made the ring of the circus. It was dozens of feet that morphed to hundreds, the fall ever continuing.
He knew what came at the end of the fall. He didn’t want it. Didn’t want to remember. Didn’t want the memory to morph further. He wanted to wake.
He landed with a crack against the dirt. Shattered. Broken. Forsaken. Until Nell gave her blood and he became a vampire.
She never came in the nightmare. Instead, he began again, stepping onto the platform. The crowd cheering. The ringleader lying.
“Evigilas,” a voice whispered in Takashi’s ear.
Details of the dream world slipped away as Takashi shuddered out of his sleep. Urgency struck him, but he couldn’t pinpoint whether that was the remnant of the nightmare or a reminder of reality. A groan worked its way up from his core, and he fought to lift his head.
“Seems you put him under a little too far, love,” Seamus said.
“You wanted him out, I put him out,” Anton replied.
Anton had whispered that first word to Takashi. Recent memory sparked, fanning his panic into a brighter light. Anton and Seamus had attacked the suite. Takashi had fired a shotgun loaded with silver pellet at Anton. That hadn’t slowed him down, and though Takashi had struggled, Anton had snapped his neck.
Takashi attempted to move, but his wrists were bound to a heavy wooden chair. He was a captive.
The rest of his grogginess cleared. He was in a well-appointed study with all the trappings of a long-acquired wealth. The rug was a plush Persian in deep reds with black, gold, and blue weaved into scrolling patterns. Seamus’s desk was a heavy Victorian monstrosity. He had an arrangement of notebooks, a leather-bound journal, and two laptops across its surface.
Zack’s notes. And mine . Takashi fought to keep his expression neutral. This wasn’t the first time a coven master had hauled him into a study and demanded to know more of him.
But this was the first one that Takashi had been actively plotting to kill.
Takashi swallowed his urge to demand answers. Seamus had brought him here for a reason when he could have killed him outright. Before Takashi played any of his remaining cards, he needed to know what the damn game was.
Seamus met his gaze. The tales of his evil deeds tended to leave out how ordinarily handsome he was. If not for the muddled red in his blue eyes and his ice-cold aura, he would have fit into human society without a problem. He kept his brown hair to modern style, he could turn on a smile that disguised the nature of his soul, and he had a preternatural grace that made him a pleasure to watch. His current attire was simpler than his formal tuxedo; a white dress shirt and black slacks gave him a professional air, though he had rolled the sleeves of his shirt. He stood behind his desk and exuded a level of command Takashi had come to expect of ancient vampires.
Anton stood before the desk, though he leaned his backside against the heavy furniture. His pale blond hair hung past his shoulders, and he still had on the white tuxedo he’d worn to the ball. His jacket was missing, and dried blood marred his clothing. He was the sort of rare vampire whose skin seemed to glow porcelain white, and his eyes remained a darkened red that spoke to his power as a vampire. Along with that magic, he was proficient in the arcane arts.
The two of them were among the most terrifying creatures Takashi had ever known—possibly worse than the dragon lord of Lake Michigan. They had been together for over eight hundred years. Takashi admired that their relationship had lasted and was envious of the years of living, but he hated nearly everything else about them.
“Welcome back to the waking world,” Seamus said amicably. He approached Takashi with a silver Bowie knife in his right hand. Runes were etched into the blade. It belonged to Callum Wright. The last person Takashi had seen wielding it was Roger.
Now, Seamus stepped around his desk and brought the blade closer and closer. Takashi steeled himself for the burn of silver, schooled his features into a blank mask devoid of any emotion, and put a mental wall around his emotions. He would not let these creatures know that he was terrified of what would become of him, of what might have already befallen his lovers.
Seamus cut the ropes binding Takashi’s wrists to the chair and smiled at him.
Warily, Takashi rubbed his wrists. He still wore the black wool tuxedo pants that had been part of his outfit for the ball, but his captors had changed his shirt. This blue dress shirt was one from his closet and one he liked.
When he glanced down at his shirt, Seamus said, “The other was covered in blood. We took no liberties other than removing it and the jacket. Both ruined, I’m afraid. Combat will do that, even to Unseelie finery.”
“Unfortunate,” Takashi said dryly. “I rather liked that jacket.”
“It was beautiful.” Seamus handed off the silver knife to Anton as he circled back around to stand behind his desk.
Anton played with the point of the dagger, pushing it against his fingertip. Its sharpness drew blood, and the silver singed him. The slightest whiff of burning flesh mingled with the potent scents of the grave the ancient vampires had. Old blood, dirt, dust, and death created an odd perfume, especially since there was a hint of roses in the air. Takashi glanced over his shoulder and spotted two large vases of flowers beside the study door.
So he’s a little vain about his smell . Takashi tucked the information away. Hopefully, he would live long enough to make use of the knowledge.
“Any particular reason you put me under a sleep spell?” Takashi asked conversationally. Balancing a tone between deferential and confident had taken decades to master, but he fell into the habit easily. Panic would only get him killed; making demands would only incite his captors’ anger. Clearly, they had a plan if they were going to this much effort.
“My love wasn’t ready for you,” Anton replied. He set the blade down on the desk, though he kept his hand on top of the hilt. “We’ve had a busy night. A ball, an attack, and?—”
“And much to Roger’s dismay, I have a coven to run.” Seamus closed one of Zack’s notebooks. “Unlike Nell, I don’t sequester myself away and rely upon others to ensure my territory remains well governed.”
“I noticed,” Takashi said.
“You and Zack notice quite a bit, don’t you?” Seamus asked.
Takashi pretended to relax into his seat. Whatever the game, he had to win. “A vampire ambassador would be dead if they couldn’t make a few obvious observations.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Seamus said thoughtfully. “Which makes me wonder, how could one as clever as you fall in with a pissant with delusions of grandeur?”
“Love convinces one of foolish notions,” Takashi said.
“Was love truly your reason?” Anton asked. He had a far-off quality to his voice, and his question brought Takashi’s attention to him. His eyes were deep red, slightly glowing, and he leaned forward to put his hands on Takashi’s wrists, trapping him against the chair.
Vampires were a proud, arrogant species that boasted more power than they had. They tended to squabble over territory like dogs barking at strangers, loud and without impact. They fucked and fed and wasted away their immortal lives becoming nothing . Takashi had long lost count of the number of vampires who claimed they could charm anyone with a glance.
As Anton cinched his grip around Takashi’s wrists, he flooded his mind with power. Takashi braced the best he could. Others had attempted to use their ability to sense desire on him before. Roger had even plumed his mental depths, something that had been a violation. Takashi had forgiven him; Roger had been acting out of his own fears.
But each time before had been like a shoelace coming undone, a quiet loosening of his mind that he easily remedied by taking a moment to fix his mental ward.
Anton shoved into his mind with the force of a sledgehammer and began to root around in intimate places. He slid forward and sat on Takashi’s lap. Takashi growled and dipped his head. His efforts to block Anton weren’t working. Each mental wall was instantly shattered. Anton was reaching in, not only sensing his mind but taking hold of desires and heightening them.
“What is going on in here?” Anton whispered. He grabbed Takashi tightly by the back of his hair and wrenched his head back.
I love Roger. I do . But that wasn’t the real reason he had agreed to join him. Nell had given an order, and he had taken advantage of the opportunity. Takashi had been the one she sent to interface with hundreds of other vampires, and he had built a reputation for himself. One that was always overshadowed by being an ambassador to a vampire whose only goal was a status quo. Seventy years as someone else’s errand boy had been grueling.
Takashi wanted more . He fought not to name it while Anton dug in his mind. Fought not to feel the true source of it. But trying to stop Anton’s magic was like shoving his hands against a burst pipe. Even as he managed to stem the worst, the pressure created another leak, and a stream dripped from what he’d hoped to close off.
“Oh, you aren’t a good little boy at all.” Anton grinned wickedly. He stroked Takashi’s cheek. “I see you.”
The desire that he had crafted mask after mask after mask to hide rushed to the surface. Self-denial, excuses, everything he had laid on top of it to quash it down so even he might not embrace it was cast off as Anton heightened Takashi’s desires.
I want power .
Not for anyone else’s sake, not to help or to soothe or to negotiate. He longed to be the one people turned to for a favor—out of desperation or simply because he was the one who could accomplish it. He wanted people to owe him , to seek him . The spotlight no longer mattered. The spotlight had been a mortal fascination. He wanted the power behind a throne.
And he wanted to touch and be touched. He wanted to tear into another’s throat and drink blood until he was too full. He wanted to feel his own flesh break and heal and become whole and do it all again. Wanted pain that thoroughly ruined him for anyone else. Wanted to bind someone to him so they never wanted to leave him. Needed to use someone and be used in return. Wanted wanted wanted …
“You don’t have to fight it,” Anton crooned. “You can have it all. Just let yourself fall.”
Falling.
The dream. His memory. The sudden recollection, the flash of memory that overwhelmed the present from time to time, claimed him. He fell from the trapeze. Smashed his body against the ground. Was dying, there on the dirt. Betrayed because Roger— no , in the memory, it was Sergei—had failed him. Hadn’t been there. Had let him fall.
The fear mingled with the desire. He couldn’t breathe. He had been a vampire more than a century, had long schooled himself out of the habit, but he needed air and couldn’t get it. He had to get free. But Anton was on his lap and holding him down, and some part of him wanted to be stuck beneath him. No. No. No .
“You could be ours,” Anton murmured.
“S-s-stop,” Takashi managed. His eyes were leaking bloody tears.
“Lover,” Seamus said, the warning in his tone deepening his voice.
“I could break him. He’d give us all his secrets, and then we’d have a new toy. A fresh one.” Anton stroked Takashi’s cheek and leaned upward, over him, like he was about to plant a kiss on his trembling lips.
Suddenly, he was gone. His presence became nothing but cold air. A resounding crack and a sharp, pained whimper filled Takashi’s ears before he realized that Anton had stopped his constant magical pressure. Reclaiming his senses with a wave of relief, Takashi used his abilities on his own mind to diminish his desires and cleared the residual haze in his mind.
Anton was on the floor, cradling his head with one hand. A bloody gash in his head was deep, bone and brain showing, but was already healing. A corner of Seamus’s desk had blood on it.
Seamus glowered down at Anton, the red in his eyes flaring brighter. “Out.”
Pouting, Anton pawed at Seamus’s leg, but Seamus kicked his hand. With tears in his eyes, Anton got to his feet, swayed, and then staggered out of the room.
Once the door was closed, Seamus strode over to it and locked it. He stood beside it for a long moment.
Takashi seized that moment to finish collecting himself. Somewhere in the midst of Anton’s magic, his cock had grown hard, but the reality of his situation siphoned that lust away. Anton had turned him into simpering putty, and for the briefest, impossible fraction of a second, Takashi had wanted to give in. Had that been a forced injection, something of Anton’s mind? A vampire could only encourage what existed within their target, but Anton was also a warlock. Did he have skills others didn’t?
Or was there some part of Takashi that craved a dominant partner so badly that even Anton would do? Not the time to think about what I want in the bedroom. He was using me .
But what would have happened if Seamus hadn’t stepped in?
Takashi clasped the arms of his chair so his hands wouldn’t tremble.
“I apologize for him,” Seamus said, his tone calm and cordial. Slowly, he walked over to his desk and leaned his backside against it. On his left was the Bowie knife, and on his right was the bloody corner.
Seamus had stopped Anton, but he’d also allowed him to get that far in the first place.
This conversation isn’t some card game. It’s a four-dimensional chess match . The only reason Takashi was still in the game was because Seamus willed it. That was the point behind his course of action, wasn’t it? Or was Anton stronger than Seamus? Did Seamus want Takashi’s loyalty, or did he suspect that Takashi would know that everything was a setup?
“Thank you,” Takashi said softly, layering on as much respect as he could muster past the shiver in his veins. “I do appreciate the mercy. Considering what I’ve done these last ten weeks, you would have been within your rights to let him break me.”
Seamus grinned, a glimmer of triumph in his muddy red eyes. “I can admire a clever man.”
But can you tolerate his presence? Allow him to thrive ? Takashi gave a small smile, playing up a pensive attitude. “My cleverness is simply an ability to perceive the world around me and come to a conclusion.”
“And what conclusion have you reached about your current situation?” Seamus asked.
Takashi had walked him into asking that question. Ancient vampires had schemes upon schemes, and he had long ago learned that the more he knew, the more he could survive them. Nell had intimated that Seamus planned on ruling over the vampires of North America, uniting them in a single coven and claiming it a kingdom.
But he would face stiff complications. International vampires might not care if Seamus stole so much territory, but they wouldn’t tolerate someone with an army of vampires that could outdo them. Mundane means of travel didn’t take as long as they used to. One could cross the globe in a day without the aid of magic at all. That made an army of vampires very dangerous.
A vampire like Takashi, who had connections all over the world, could be useful to someone planning to become a vampire king.
If he behaved. What Anton had done was a warning, and Takashi was meant to know that.
Takashi did his best to relax into his seat. “I am a guest at your mansion until you have no use for me, and if I am … disruptive, then I may find my status downgraded. At that point, I’ll likely wish for a stake in my heart rather than what will happen.”
“Intelligence, such a rare and beautiful thing. You’ve gathered the gist of the situation.” Seamus moved to his chair behind the desk and sat. “Zack’s notes about international covens are sparse. I was hoping you might confirm a few details for me.”
Most international vampires were pains in the ass that only wanted to further subjugate humans, and several masters were rampant racists that were gleefully funding the resurgence of fascism. Takashi didn’t owe those bastards a damn bit of his loyalty.
But he did have lines. Likely, Seamus wouldn’t respect him if he didn’t. Just as likely that he’ll kill me for them .
Yet what Anton had dragged to the surface had left him shaken. He wanted power. When he was alone, he couldn’t deny that.
But he wanted love. Had love. And he wouldn’t forsake it.
“May I ask a question?” Takashi said.
“I may not answer it.”
“That’s within your rights.” Rather than swallowing his fear for his loved ones, Takashi let it bubble upward, making it obvious. “Are they dead?”
Seamus watched him for a long moment. Takashi didn’t budge, didn’t blink. He waited.
“You wouldn’t betray them even if they were,” Seamus replied.
“I would not.”
“I can appreciate loyalty, even to a traitorous bastard such as Roger, when it’s born out of love.” Seamus flipped through one of the pages before him. “The heart cannot help what it wants. No one knows that better than I.”
An odd piece of information. Takashi examined its place on the chess board and made note of it. His question wasn’t answered, but the expectation was set. Keeping his head level, he said, “Since we have an understanding, I have no qualms discussing our international brethren. You are my coven master, after all.”
“Wonderful,” Seamus said happily. “Dawn is nearing, so we’ll keep tonight’s session short.”
“Thank you,” Takashi said with a slight nod of his head. I will find out what happened to you Roger, Zack. Kit. If you are dead, then I will orchestrate this bastard’s burning by his own fucking hand . “Where would you like to start?”