Chapter 15
JAMES
Isher was lying to me. Or rather, not lying exactly, but near enough.
I’d heard old wives’ tales about the Fae being incapable of lying but still managing to convince you black was white.
Which was frustrating as fuck, especially when you considered that until meeting Edwin, I’d lived on my wits for years and could spot someone bending the truth at fifty paces.
Hell, half the time I was the perpetrator of the falsehood.
The question was, why was he being so evasive?
It was also hard to focus on what he said because he was so beautiful to look at.
My gaze kept slipping sideways, away from his pale purple eyes and the sharp points of his ears that showed as he moved his head, peeking through his waterfall of hair.
I only wished I had a quarter of his confidence about how I looked.
Trace was also remarkably quiet on the subject of the lights.
He’d stiffened when I asked the question, but had smoothed his features into a telltale blankness that told me he also knew something.
He was a witch, which meant he had to know a ton more about magic than I did, but his deliberate non-reaction stood out like a lighthouse in a stormy sea.
I huffed silently to myself. People often underestimated me because I couldn’t hear well.
They forgot that I made sure my other senses were finely honed as a counterbalance, and what I didn’t hear, I damn near always saw or felt.
Plus, and this was the most important, I had seen lights.
I’d said they were pink because to be honest I’d never seen a colour quite like that, and pink was the nearest I got to describing it.
The lights had flickered across the lawn — ice sheet, whatever — in a pattern that looked random, but also reminded me a bit of a plasma ball.
I knew vampires had perfect eyesight. I got the feeling that all supernaturals enjoyed enhanced senses, so it stood to reason that the vamps would also have witnessed the light display, even preoccupied as they were with heaving a massive hulk of wood and steel across the lawn.
So why had nobody else remarked on them?
But for now, I parked my annoyance and enjoyed the spectacle.
Pavel, who was apparently also a shadow, was filming intently, so I didn’t like to speak again in case he got cross about my voice on his recording.
I sneaked a few peeks at him while tracking the movement of the carriage.
He looked otherworldly with his super pale complexion and hair colour, to say nothing of his outfit, and nothing like what I’d expected the big chief vampire to have as a…
companion, I suppose was as good a word as any other.
Did he consider the man an employee or a friend? Did they fuck?
I realised I knew almost nothing about this Dalziel bloke either, apart from the teasing asides Edwin and Baxter had shared.
He didn’t look like a terrifying force to be reckoned with, but then again, neither did any of the supernaturals I’d met, with the possible exception of Gethin who was just huge all over.
I decided I prefered Edwin’s blond hair and blue eyes to Dalziel’s dark looks, but he was objectively quite handsome, I supposed.
The carriage shuffled closer to its destination.
I watched Charley as he kept his eyes everywhere at once, presumably keeping the magic working.
Another crackle of weird not-pink lights illuminated the dark walls of the yew archway and I could tell it was coming from him, his magic.
Same difference, right? I wasn’t going to be lied to about this again.
I’d talk to Edwin, or even locate my bollocks and introduce myself to the scary Dalziel.
A metallic, powdery scent filled my nostrils.
I wrinkled my nose, but I couldn’t say I found the aroma unpleasant.
It was more that it felt familiar, but that had to be some kind of distant memory from my childhood.
Probably some fancy baby powder one of my foster parents had used on me at some point.
Smells were supposed to be evocative, right?
The carriage finally swung into the far corner from where it had started.
Edwin beckoned Trace over. “Let’s get this in the right position first time,” he called with a smile.
He didn’t even look like he’d been straining, although I guessed from the fact it had taken six grown men all with supernatural strength to shift it, it hadn’t been an easy task.
Trace slid over with a grace I hadn’t expected and directed the final manoeuvres, until with a double thumbs up, he stood back, looking immensely satisfied.
Pavel glanced at me. “We should perhaps wait here for the ice to melt, yes? How are you finding your new life? Dalziel informed me Edwin had employed a shadow.” His pale grey eyes seemed innocent enough, but I suspected a fishing expedition.
I was not okay with that. If Dalziel, high-and-mighty vampire extraordinaire, wanted to know how I was, he could ask me himself.
“I’m very happy, thank you. Edwin is a great employer.
” I didn’t know this guy, and although he seemed friendly, I wasn’t prepared to discuss my new life with him — yet.
I gestured towards Charley. “We should congratulate Charley on his success.” As I spoke, the ice around the edges of the grass was already disappearing.
It didn’t melt so much as literally vanish as we watched.
“That’s so clever,” I muttered. I suddenly felt incredibly unremarkable.
Here was a guy younger than me who could conjure the elements, whereas the most impressive fact about me was that I’d managed to stay clear of the law during all my dodgy dealings back in Leeds.
Pavel shot me a sharp look, at odds with his wild-child clothing and fluffy hair. “We all have our position in life, Mr Wilson,” he said gently. “It is not our place to wonder why some are more exalted than others. It has always been the way of the world and probably always will be.”
“That’s a bit fatalistic,” I retorted, stung by his apparent adherence to a way of thinking that to my mind had been outdated fifty years ago. Hell, a thousand years. “And please don’t call me Mr Wilson. It makes me feel ancient.”
He blinked at me. “I do beg your pardon, James, on both counts. I confess I tend to forget not everyone enjoys the world the way I do.” He seemed to be thinking, then he offered, with a shy smile, “I exist only for my master. To serve him makes me happier than I could ever have imagined. I do not often leave his side, and as such, I have a somewhat skewed perspective of the way the universe turns for the more…regular person. I meant no offence.”
I digested that for a moment. Living with Edwin had been an education in many ways, not the least of which was his ability to make sex seem less mortifying.
He was as happy explaining the best way to deep throat someone — he really had very few boundaries — as he was arguing over paint samples for sprucing up Bluebell, which he’d recently informed me was the name of our home.
Consequently, I’d read more articles about differing aspects of sexual and romantic lifestyles than I’d known existed before moving to London.
Hesitantly, because his expression seemed to indicate he was open to questions but I wasn’t sure if it was acceptable to voice this question, I asked Pavel, “So is Dalziel, like, your Master master? Like a dom?” I couldn’t believe I had the nerve to ask, but what else was I to think?
Pavel gave me a happy nod. “He is, but…” he gestured towards Bluebell, “…we should perhaps move away a distance to discuss this if you wish. I am not ashamed of my life, but I do not share the details with everyone.”
We perched on one of the low walls that surrounded the flowerbeds in the front garden. Pavel angled himself to face me, something I hadn’t asked him to do, but which endeared him to me instantly.
“Dalziel is my master. I don’t mentally capitalise the word and he doesn’t expect or want me to.
I am his shadow and his full-time subservient, totally by choice.
I run his kitchens, because although Dalziel has an abiding love for humans aside from requiring their blood to survive, if left to him, his human staff and visitors would eat rather less well than with me in charge.
I love cooking, so this suits me very well.
I do many other jobs around whichever house he lives in.
But first and foremost, I am his food source.
” He flashed me a small smile that reached his eyes.
“He in turn pays for everything I need or want, and has kept me by his side for decades, giving me a framework to live within, and his total protection.”
I tried to wrap my mind around it all. On the surface it seemed reasonable enough. What Pavel did for Dalziel was pretty much what I’d been doing for Edwin. So where did we differ?
“Are you in love with him?” Are you fucking like bunnies? was what I meant, but I wasn’t asking him that.
“No.” Oh, that wasn’t what I expected him to say. “I love him, fiercely, but I have never experienced the type of love I believe you mean.” A twitch of his lips. “And we do not engage, nor have we ever engaged, in a sexual or physical relationship of any kind.”
Bang went that theory then. “What’s a physical relationship if it isn’t sexual?” Do I even want to know?
The lip twitch became a full-blown smile.
“He doesn’t tie me up, beat or flog me, or any other kind of physical intimacy beyond holding me in his arms.” He kicked his legs out straight, resting his sandalled feet on the flowerbed opposite.
“I do not wish for sex, or romantic love, at least not from Dalziel, but sometimes I like to be held.”
“Yeah, I get that last part.” I copied his pose, soaking in the warm night air, laced as it was with traffic fumes and city grime. “Edwin and I share a bed. I like being close to him.”
“You see? You understand. Even a little.” His exhale was long and slow. He tipped his head back to stare at the sky, his hair a floofy halo outlined in gold by the nearby street lamp. “If you stay with your vampire, as I suspect you will, you will understand a great deal more as the years pass.”
Hang on. He’d said ‘decades’ just now, hadn’t he?
I cranked my head a little to the left. He didn’t look very old.
I squinted a bit harder. At first glance he looked to be in his late twenties, but close up I could see fine wrinkles and the suggestion that he was definitely older than that.
Definitely not more than mid thirties though, maybe forty absolute tops. “Um, Pavel?”
“Yes?”
“How old are you?”
“Ahh, there you are!” Edwin, of course. He bounded up to us noisily, no doubt for my benefit. Pavel sat up hastily, then stood. “Mr Edwin, I apologise for using your garden as my own personal—”
“Pavel, with the greatest respect, shut up, love. You’re on holiday.
You’re welcome to sprawl wherever you see fit.
Frankly, if your delicate bone structure can destroy my flowerbeds, I needed to rebuild them anyway.
I’ve also told you before, you can call me Eddie.
James, it would appear Baxter’s planned a celebratory party at her place.
Hector and Stephen said they’ll take the Tube so we can grab a ride in the car. Want to go?”
I stood up too, and searched his face for clues.
Baxter was Edwin’s best friend, Dalziel his sire.
He wanted to go to this party. Half ignoring Pavel’s murmured, “I should find Dalziel,” I leaned into the comfort of Edwin’s firm chest. He slung an arm around my shoulders to anchor me there.
Under the steadying influence of his chilled skin cooling my heated face even through his shirt, and the slow thump of his heartbeat, I said, “I’d love to go. ”