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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

G wil had known the announcement was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Hyax had returned to the fae realm and within the hour Gwil had received over twenty messages from his friends asking if he was all right. Cikla had sent him the wording, it spoke of the union of the two tribes, and other bullshit around harmony and cementing the special relationship. He’d been mentioned, his title of Prince Hyax’s Beloved didn’t have the same ring to it as husband, but what had been the absolute kicker was there was a date for the ceremony. In less than a week, Hyax would be married to Metra, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

He couldn’t stay in the house, everywhere he looked something reminded him of Hyax. He’d tried working, but it was the same issue, most, if not all of his current cases had been touched by Hyax in some way, even if it had just been a discussion on a path forward. He fed Midnight, grabbed his keys and headed out into the London night, to Lambeth where there was a bar he could drink himself stupid in and people would keep their distance. The owner would pour him into a cab and tomorrow Gwil could nurse his hangover and pretend nothing had happened.

He’d first discovered Gilmont’s in the 1940s. It had started after the owner of the original bar had returned from the Second World War longer in the fangs than he’d left. He’d found a niche amongst a subset of London vampires who weren’t well connected enough to grace the glitzy lounges or stately homes where warm bodies were available on a whim but weren’t so low down they were picking off the booming homeless population.

At street level, Gilmont’s gave the impression it was a boarded-up hardware shop, posters and graffiti had added to the décor, and it meant that ninety-nine percent of the people who walked passed ignored it. The actual entrance was partway down the alley at the side and as he descended underground Gwil forced all thoughts of what Hyax would be up into a part of his brain labelled do not poke until morning .

In absolute terms, Gilmont’s hadn’t changed much over the years—a low-ceilinged main bar with booths around the edges and other smaller areas where a patron could be seen as much or as little as they wanted. He intended to sit in a corner, drown his sorrows in a bottle of whisky and leave, doing so in public would mean he wouldn’t go too far, and he could probably find someone to talk to as a distraction.

Stu, the eponymous Gilmont, clocked him the minute he entered. “Gwil, my friend. It’s been a while.”

Stu also hadn’t changed, the style of his suits had been updated, though he still had the same slicked-back hair and waxed moustache Gwil remembered from the early days. “I needed a place to not think, or maybe overthink, but where no one will give a fuck.”

He took a stool at the bar and Stu collected a bottle of Macallan’s. He put it down in front of Gwil along with a glass. “Let’s start you on the decent stuff. Once you’re shitfaced I’ll move you onto Bell’s. Will you be wanting something more robust?”

Another thing about Gilmont’s was it had never moved over to bottled blood, and catered for those wanting to live feed. Gwil hesitated, but in his current mood, the temptation was too great to turn down. “Yeah. Probably.”

“I’ll let you know what I’ve got available, I had to switch out earlier.”

He knocked back two large measures of whisky in quick succession. Alcohol still worked, although it took more and longer to do the trick. His old drug habits had some effect but generally white powders left him listless after a short high these days and he’d steered clear as the benefits didn’t add up.

It was still early, but there were a few others in. This wasn’t the sort of place he’d take Hyax, hell, this wasn’t somewhere he’d go with anyone else.

“You been busy?” Stu asked. “Must have been the best part of two years since you’ve been in.”

“Work mainly, and I don’t feed as often as I used to.”

“I guess dating a prince means you get to have your pick of the good stuff.”

He’d not transitioned over to the single vintage bloods. Hyax had made a comment about it and, while he’d like to know what it was he was drinking, he’d not had the chance to bring it up in conversation again. “You’d be surprised, I don’t get the perks you’d expect I would.”

“I would think, now especially, you could demand whatever the fuck you wanted. Surely the Prince’s Beloved should want for nothing.” Stu refilled his glass. “You’re too nice, Gwil. You should put your foot down and get what you deserve.”

“Does everyone know I’ve been booted down the pecking order to walking sex toy?” He knew that wasn’t his actual position but to the outside world, he wasn’t going to be as perceived as important to Hyax in the same way.

“Come on, Gwil. It’s fresh juice, give it a few days and no one will care. It’s debatable anyone cares now.”

He sipped his whisky this time. “I don’t know if that’s worse.”

“I have to ask, did you really expect to marry him?”

Someone like Gwil marrying Hyax must seem far-fetched to most, but he’d believed Hyax had been sincere in his proposal, even though the way he’d asked hadn’t been romantic. “I had hoped, and hope springs eternal, it’s not like I have a timeline to beat.”

Stu handed him a sheet of paper and moved to serve other customers. It was the menu, and it only had limited hand-written options: two males (Scottish), two local females, Liverpudlian NB. All aged between 20 and 40, with consent paperwork and certification.

He guessed Hyax would probably want him to choose the woman, although he’d explained he wasn’t the type, unlike some of his peers, to shag his food, there was always a thrill associated with feeding. While he had dated women in the past, he was deep in cock territory now so feeding from a bloke might be a touchy subject. He and Hyax had enough to contend with without a bout of irrational jealousy. Then again, this wasn’t Hyax’s call, and Gwil preferred the taste of men’s blood over women’s. Hyax was the one off becoming Metra’s future husband so why should he allow Hyax’s feelings to dictate his dinner?

“What you having?” Stu asked.

“The Scot and another whisky.” He handed over his credit card. “I should start a tab.”

“I take it you’d prefer a booth. Never known you to feed in the open.”

He’d pay extra for privacy. “Yeah.”

“Follow me. Blond or ginger?”

“Ginger.”

He grabbed the whisky bottle and followed Stu to one of the booths at the side where there was a two-seater sofa and a low table. This was not a swanky corner to wine and dine a date, but more a comfortable nook which was heavy on the sandalwood air freshener to cover lingering wafts of stale blood.

“House rules as usual. No tolerance for draining, maximum two taps.”

Gwil took a swig from the bottle, removing all pretence of caring what anyone else thought. Stu reappeared several minutes later with a docile man in his late twenties. The herd were generally subdued, kept about for a few months and then released with a large amount of money they often didn’t remember earning, and a case of anaemia.

Gwil wasn’t given a name, and he didn’t ask. He was cute, with ginger curls and vacant blue eyes. Built on the wiry side, he wasn’t someone who Gwil would describe as being his type, but this wasn’t a date.

Ginger sat and cocked his head to one side to give Gwil access to his throat. There was a school of thought that this wasn’t how things should be done. Vampires were meant to be dangerous and wild, but this was evolution in his view. Why waste time and energy when there were those willing to be fed from?

He stroked a finger down the column of his neck feeling the glorious pulse of Ginger’s heartbeat under his fingertips, his fangs extended and he began to salivate. For all his words about how bottled blood was good enough, there was nothing like drinking straight from the source. A chemical replaced the need to use his thrall, Ginger was compliant and Gwil shifted closer. He sank his fangs into the willing flesh and drank down the red nectar. He didn’t rush, and eased off a little when Ginger whimpered. He had no desire to cause him pain, not when he was proving such a heady repast.

The hit of the blood was better than any chemical high and he withdrew and sank back into to a cushion. Ginger’s eyes were heavy-lidded and he panted slightly. He was aroused but no doubt he’d find someone later to help him out. Gwil didn’t pay much notice as Ginger was guided away and he sat in his own bubble of happy chemicals as the blood worked its way through his system.

“What the fuck are you doing, Gwil?”

He recognised the voice, but he had to be wrong. He peered up to see Penelope standing over him. She looked as if she’d come straight from a business meeting, her hair in a bun, and wearing a trouser suit. This was not the place she would ever come to. “Are you lost?”

“I have people looking out for you, when I heard about Hyax and then you turning up here, I thought I would need to stage an intervention.”

The blood and whisky combined to make him wonderfully light-headed. “S’fine. I was having a nibble, that’s all.”

“If you wanted to live feed, you could have come to me, and I’d have ensured you had something of a better calibre.”

Penelope was such a snob. “No need. I’m good, promise.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you. You’re coming with me.”

He opened his mouth to protest but two of Penelope’s security guards pulled him to his feet.

“Since when have you cared what I did?” He snatched his arm away as he stood. “You don’t need to be here.”

“I know we haven’t always been close, Gwil, but you are my brother, and I don’t want you doing something stupid. You’re in the good graces of two of the Heads of House, you will not squander the opportunity you can get because you’ve had your heart broken by a sparkly twat.”

Penelope would also be able to capitalise on Gwil’s new fortune, and he didn’t like the way she was referring to Hyax. “I’ve not had my heart broken.”

“That’s why you’re in a dive bar getting shit-faced on cheap blood and whisky.”

“Hardly cheap.”

“Not the point. You’re coming with me.”

“No.”

He was grabbed and he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight these two goons off. “Honestly, I’m okay. I was blowing off steam that’s all. I’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”

“So Hyax won’t be marrying another fae prince?” She raised an eyebrow and he wanted to pluck the fucking thing off her face.

“It’s not like I didn’t know.”

She turned on her heel and clicked her fingers. Gwil was lifted off his feet and carried out of Gilmont’s between two burly vampires. He was pretty sure this wasn’t an unknown event given some of the clientele, but it was a first for Gwil. Moments later he was bundled into the back of a car, and next to Penelope.

“Gwil, I know you think I’ve overreacted but you put yourself in a dangerous position. High on blood lust and whisky, you could have been taken advantage of or done something more stupid than being seen live feeding in a dive bar.”

There were a lot worse places than Gilmont’s, some where he wouldn’t dare show his face thanks to some of the cases he’d taken over the years. “I’ve been going to Gilmont’s since it opened and never had an issue. You’re being a snob.”

She scowled. “You’re associated with a fae prince, your sister is a Dark Duchess, you are the one not understanding the levels of social hierarchy and the place you inhabit within it.”

He didn’t think dealing with the vampire elite would ever be his problem on a day-to-day basis—as he had said to Solivatus, he knew important people, but he wasn’t important. “My position in society puts me at the bar in Gilmont’s. As you pointed out, it’s my partner who’s the prince, not me. And as he’s currently off out at his engagement party I can’t exactly get into places I’d go when I’m his plus one."

“But you also have me.” She laid a hand on his arm which made him immediately suspicious. “I accept we’ve had our differences, I could have helped you more, and now I want to ensure that even if things go south with Hyax, you don’t lose the progress you’vemade."

Gwil guessed he must’ve started gettingtraction if Penelope was interested in being seen with him. Part of him wanted to tell her to sod off but he wasn’t the sort to cut off his nose to spite his own face.

“I’m not expecting anything to change between me and Hyax. I know he’s being made to marry someone else but it’s not like he’s going off to make a life with him. Yeah, it sucks that I don’t get to get to have the ceremony and whatever, but I still get him and that’s what I want.”

The car drew up outside Penelope’s townhouse in Pimlico. “Come in, I think we’ve things to discuss and it’s best they’re not done in the open.”

He bit back the comment that the car wasn’t in the open either, but Penelope was likely to have a decent selection of blood on hand and he wouldn’t admit it, but Ginger had left a bit of an aftertaste.

Gwil had only been here twice. The property belonged to Penelope’s husband’s family, and since he was Penelope’s brother from before she was turned, he wasn’t considered part of her sired family and he’d been made to use the side entrance.

A butler opened the door, and Penelope gave instructions for them to be served in the parlour and to have a room made up for her guest. He didn’t argue but he didn’t intend to stay. Hyax would be home at some point, and he would want to see him. When exactly he’d be back, Gwil didn’t know but he could do a good line in pining boyfriend while he waited.

The parlour—he wasn’t even aware townhouses still had parlours—was a reception room set up to show off the wealth of the inhabitants. Penelope had always wanted the best in life, and fair play to her, she’d got it by marrying Philip. If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a fucking Fabergé egg on the mantelpiece, along with several more ornaments that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the British Museum.

She ushered him into an armchair and the butler arrived with a carafe of blood and two glasses, which he served and promptly sodded off.

“You’re taking all this far more calmly than I would.”

“Didn’t you lob a bloke’s head off with a broadsword because he got blood on your dress once? I mean, we’ve always had a different approach to dealing with drama in our after-lives.”

“But this is different. You’ve been dumped?—”

“No, I’ve been demoted and only on paper,” he said. He might have trouble believing it, but he wasn’t going to have other people question what was going on. “Hyax has a role to play, he’s assured me that there’s been no change to his feelings towards me, and to be honest, I’m surprised his mum’s allowing him to still keep me around, never mind letting him give me a fancy title.”

“Prince’s Beloved does make you sound like he’s keeping you as a pet while he goes off and plays nice with another prince.”

He wasn’t going to dignify the pet dig with a response.

“There’s more to this than just royal families wanting to join forces. Solivatus told Hyax he’d uncovered financial irregularities.”

She pursed her lips. “What sort of financial irregularities ?”

“The Elementa were running low on funds at one point, but now they’re not and he wasn’t sure what caused the uptick in how they managed it.”

“It is more common than you’d think for old families, royal ones included, to run out of money. It’s not generally something they come back from.”

“Yeah, Solivatus didn’t seem to think them having run out of money was the issue, more the fact they now aren’t. Especially as he seemed to think it was recent.”

He drank his blood, it was good, really good, and poured himself a second glass, Ginger’s taste was now history.

“That suggests they were paid money to marry Metra off to Hyax. I know Hyax’s mum isn’t a big fan of yours, but I can’t see her forking out that sort of money to get rid of you when an assassin would be much cheaper.”

He hadn’t thought about it in those terms, but she was right. “We don’t think it’s his mum. But it might also be completely unrelated.”

“Since when did you believe in coincidences?”

He didn’t. He was convinced someone wanted Hyax married to Metra but who and why, he didn’t know. “I don’t. But buggered if I know. I don’t even know off the top of my head who’d have the funds to prop up a royal family.”

“There are several vampire families, and then there’s the dragons with their hordes. Other fae and elves, but it’s not really their thing.”

“I can’t see vampires and dragons meddling in fae politics in this way. Most of the vampire connections have been vocally supportive of me bagging a fairy prince.”

She snorted. “True, it’s been a salacious piece of gossip. Philip said the Council were very happy.”

Philip was her husband. “Was he the one who told you to be nice to me?”

“I’ve been nice to you before. But he did say it wouldn’t hurt for us to be on even better terms. And we like each other, most of the time.”

“I daresay I could get used to drinking blood of this calibre, if I had to.”

“Joking aside, Gwil, why wouldn’t you be doing that already?”

They didn’t discuss his finances—she’d flaunted her own enough but never in the sense that he didn’t have money, just not as much. “Blends are cheaper. I’m planning to talk to Hyax about the money side of things, but it’s not something on his radar. Paying for things kinda happens.”

“Blends aren’t… great. You used to live with Hoffman, you can’t tell me you weren’t living like a king.”

“I didn’t want for anything in the sense of things that could be bought. I helped with the tasting of some of his early prototypes, but that was years ago, so I adapted.”

She gave him the most curious look. “How did things end with Oliver? We weren’t speaking at the time, and it wasn’t a topic I could drag up with no reason.”

“I was bored, he wasn’t what you’d call an overly affectionate bloke. I wanted to do more and work on my detective business, he wanted a trophy husband. And let’s face it, I ain’t that.”

“You’re reasonably attractive, Gwil, we share the same gene pool.” She smirked. “But I understand the boredom. Philip doesn’t try and curtail my activities, and I don’t interfere with his. How did Oliver take it?”

He wasn’t sure why she wanted to know, apart from her being nosey. “He was a bit pissed off at first, then he begged a bit but not a lot and, in the end, it was pretty amicable. I left the States and returned to London and that was it. I get the occasional email, but I’ve not heard from him in years.”

“If you’re looking for someone with enough money to bankroll a royal family, then Oliver Hoffman could. He’d probably not even notice a drop in his funds. I hate to think how much he’s worth these days.”

Most people, after he admitted he used to date the bloke who invented the process to successfully bottle blood, either didn’t believe him or thought he was a prize muppet for leaving. Hoffman was rich when they’d broke up, but these days he’d be far more affluent. “Are you suggesting Oliver Hoffman paid the Elementa to get Metra to marry Hyax? Why the fuck would he?”

“You. He’s the sort who could play the long game. You don’t get married to Hyax, and yes you’re his Beloved or whatever, but Hoffman would be banking on that turning sour. Then he could sweep in when after a couple of years of you not being the centre of Hyax’s attention and lure you away.”

“You’re off your fucking head.”

She seemed quite pleased with herself. “It’s a better working hypothesis than anything you’ve come up with.”

“That’s because I’ve not got a hypothesis, so saying aliens did it is as likely as Hoffman paying off a fae prince so he can get back his ex-boyfriend.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want you back but doesn’t want you to be happy with someone who isn’t him.”

Hoffman wasn’t a malignant ball sac, nor was he a mopey heartbroken fool. “He was dating a Paris fashion model a few years ago. He ain’t giving me a second thought.”

“I think we should investigate this further. Make some discreet enquiries into what Hoffman’s been doing for the last year or so. He’s not exactly reclusive but he’s not been so public of late.”

Hoffman had never been one for noisy and boisterous settings He’d go to the odd party but he preferred long expensive dinners, buying fine art on a whim, and tinkering with engineering projects, not caring how much it cost him. “He’s probably holed up in a cave creating a robot servant. You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

If he let himself believe this for a moment, which he wouldn’t because it was crackpot nonsense, Hoffman was a genius and wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave a trail. Hyax would laugh his arse off when he told him. Penelope was a force of nature, so he would ignore her particular dose of crazy and she’d soon get bored. His afterlife was weird enough, he didn’t need his deranged sister making it worse.