Page 27

Cian

Angel Salvatore paced in front of him, back and forth, and Cian felt rather like a child again, ready to be scolded for some transgression or another. It was more amusing than not, and he couldn’t help the smirk that crept over his expression.

“You would think this is funny,” Angel said, stopping in the middle of his pacing, hands on his hips. The temple was empty but for them, Angel’s words echoing off the far walls.

It was a far different situation they found themselves in than the first time they met in the temple. Cian was himself again, of sound mind and soul, not the maddened and homicidal shadow of himself he had been. Restored and whole once more, Cian appreciated the stark differences.

“The lich is bonded to the boy,” Cian replied. “It won’t run amok and kill people unless Leo wants it to.”

“He’s a child and you gave him the necromantic equivalent of a machine gun!” Angel shouted, and Cian quirked a brow at the necromancer.

“It’s a lich, it’s not meant to be safe,” Cian replied, going for reasonable. “Teach him to use it properly and there’s no problem. Are you and his fathers incapable of teaching the child right from wrong?”

“You—what….” Angel sputtered, then tossed his hands up in defeat. He pointed at Cian. “You won’t let him use it unless he’s under direct supervision, and his fathers have given permission. I can’t believe you taught him how to make one to begin with!”

Cian waved that away. “It was easy. He has nothing to unlearn at this stage. You practitioners are so limited by what you think is possible or not—magic can be boundless. A child knows this truth best.”

“Yes, Cian, he is a child and shouldn’t be learning advanced magics without mastering the basics,” Angel lectured him again for what felt like the millionth time. “You’re older than dirt, you should know this.”

“As your elder, I can say with absolute authority and experience that you are overreacting,” Cian replied, knowing full well he was taunting the young necromancer, but he was having too much fun to listen to his small sense of caution.

“Oh, you are such a little shit,” Angel breathed out, eyes wide. “You’re provoking me and I’m not going to react.” A hint of hellfire green sparks around his shoulders revealed the lie but Angel rather admirably held himself back and didn’t blast Cian.

He was only a little disappointed. A part of him wondered which of them would win—the immortal sidhe warrior or the powerful necromancer. That part of him was small, though, and he dismissed the passing urge.

“All that aside,” Angel huffed out, “I do need to talk to you about what happened at the Tower.”

Cian arched a brow again and waited.

“You spared the vampire assassin, Cato.”

“I did.”

“Ricon said it was because you felt the fight was unfair, and so you spared him.”

“That’s correct.”

“You do realize that now there is another ancient vampire killer in the Tower, along with Rageshi? Constans has his hands full of undead powerhouses. Not to mention those two idiot vampire assassins from the beach that Rory caught. The detention cells are full.”

“Connie can handle it, or he wouldn’t be City Master,” Cian smoothly replied, lips twitching in amusement. Riling up Angel was fun.

The necromancer took the mature route and breathed in and out in a steady rhythm, letting go of some of his annoyance.

“How’s Fenric?” Angel finally asked, sparks faded from sight, relaxing.

“Better,” Cian replied. “He needs a day or so more of rest and then he’ll be fully recovered.”

“I heard from Daniel that congratulations are in order?”

Cian nodded. “We bonded last night. He is now my mate.”

“Good for you both,” Angel said. He was sincere. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Cian said with a shallow bow. He straightened. “Fenric is napping, but he would appreciate your words.”

“I’ll let you get back to your mate,” Angel sighed. “I’ll see you in a few days as long as we aren’t attacked again. We can discuss what happened at the Tower during a family meeting once you and your mate come up for air.”

“Certainly,” Cian bowed again, smirking when Angel shook his head and sighed at him before walking away and out of the temple to the outer world.

Cian waited until Angel was far enough away that he wasn’t going to come back for another chance to yell at him, and he headed for his bedroom where Fenric was napping.

He found Fenric curled up as a large cat on the bed, and he sat beside his resting mate. Cian smoothed a hand down his mate’s back, fingers sinking into the soft black fur. A rumbling purr filled the air, and Cian relaxed as the sound settled into his very soul. A sense of peace and harmony filled him, and he sent love along the mate bond, Fenric purring louder when he felt it.

He pet his mate, Fenric purring the whole time, until sleep came for him, too. He went to sleep with love in his heart and a life to live when he woke.

Angel

The walk up to the Mansion through the garden was peaceful and bright, the late summer sun high overhead in a cloudless blue sky. The wind ruffled the leaves in the trees and bushes, and the flowers lining the central path up to the Mansion bowed under the wind in waves, a small sea of color with the occasional buzzing bee.

Simeon waited for him in the kitchen, and Angel slipped inside and shut the door quickly, not wanting to risk his mate to the sun. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the change in light, and he walked forward into his mate’s arms.

Simeon held him, letting him breathe and relax in his embrace. Angel hugged Simeon tightly.

“How fares Cian and his mate?” Simeon asked, words rumbling under Angel’s ear.

“Annoying as always, but they’re happy,” Angel said. “Not sure how we’re going to manage with two of them running about causing mischief, but at least we won’t be bored.”

“We’ll be fine,” Simeon promised him. “We can manage a dragon in a growth spurt—we can handle Cian and his equally murderous mate.”

Angel snorted out a laugh and shook his head. “I hope so.”

There was a thud near the front of the house, and Simeon suddenly blurred away, leaving Angel in the kitchen. He accessed the wards, but there was nothing attempting to break through the ward lines. There was a human on the front steps though.

Angel jogged down the hall to the foyer, and Simeon was at the door, scenting the air. “Enforcers?”

“No. I hear a truck idling in the driveway.”

“Watch the sunlight, I’m opening the door.”

Angel mentally readied a shield but didn’t raise it, wanting to see what the situation was first. Simeon moved out of range of the sunlight as he opened the door.

A man in a brown courier uniform smiled at him from the front step. “Angel Salvatore?”

Angel opened the door a bit more, spying the delivery truck idling in the gravel roundabout. “That’s me.”

“I have a letter for you,” the man said, holding it up. It was a fancy vellum letter sealed with wax, a signet design embedded in the wax. “I need you to sign for it, please.”

“Sure,” Angel said, and he took the pen and clipboard from the man, signing on the line indicated and handing both back. He got the vellum letter in return, and the delivery man smiled and nodded before jogging down the steps to his truck.

Angel waited until the man got in his truck and drove back down the driveway to the access road, disappearing from sight, before he shut the door and looked at the letter.

There was no writing or text on the outside, and the seal was the emblem of a skull with a knife stuck through the top. Not one he recognized.

He checked for magic, but there was nothing. He cracked the seal and opened the letter, the thick vellum smooth under his fingers.

Angel read the beginning of the letter aloud to Simeon.

“Angelus Raine Salvatore, you are hereby challenged by Grand Master Onfri de la Roche to a duel, at your convenience. To the victor go the spoils, and may death be merciful to his opponent.”