Page 7

Chapter 7

Immortali-tea

Fenric

“ I can’t change your feelings, but I would merely say again, it was not your fault,” Rory admonished gently. “I chose to fight.”

Fenric grimaced, looking down at his hands. He knew Rory was right, but it felt like a lie—he was part of the reason the Brennan twins had been there to begin with, and Rory’s injury came in the subsequent battle with the Redcoats.

“I remember that expression,” Cian said as he added loose-leaf tea to an infuser basket that he then set into a cast-iron teapot, awaiting the steaming water in the kettle over the fire. “That expression means you’re being stubborn.”

Fenric made a face at Cian, who merely smiled and continued to set up the cups and saucers, even little spoons for a proper teatime. Honey in a small glass jar, cubes of sugar in a low bowl with miniature tongs. All that was missing was tiny sandwiches and little tarts for nibbling.

“I can be stubborn if I want,” Fenric declared primly, crossing his arms and squinting at Cian.

“You’re both stubborn,” Rory declared. Daniel was watching, amused and entertained, going by the soft smile and twinkling eyes.

“What are we arguing about?” Fenric asked, ready to change the subject. “You’re here now and whole again. I’m glad you’re not dead, both of you.”

“Were you friends before Rory…” Daniel paused. “Before he slept in stasis?”

“I met the Brennan twins on the voyage over from the Old World,” Fenric shared with Daniel. “They were evacuating a large group of fae and supernatural peoples from Europe in 1775. I was one of them.”

“The columns in the temple show the voyage,” Daniel said, excitedly leaning forward in his seat. “There’s several people besides the twins carved in the stone. I wonder if you’re there, too.”

“Is there really?” Fenric asked. “I haven’t seen them.” He might be there, carved in stone among all the souls the Brennans saved with that voyage.

Daniel’s eyes went wider. “Did I just tell Fenric about the secret of the mound? I am so sorry!”

Fenric waved aside Daniel’s words. “I knew about it then, no worries. The High Court Sidhe have always had their underhills. I guessed before I ever officially met the twins.”

“Fenric sniffed it out for himself during the voyage across the Atlantic,” Cian shared, and he deemed the water hot enough, lifting the water kettle from the tripod chain and pouring the hot water into the teapot. “His nose always leads him to the truth eventually. Rather dangerous fellow to have about, for myriad reasons.”

Fenric preened at the words, dismissing any potential insult. Cian was sharp-tongued and Fenric liked that about him. He liked lots of things about Cian.

“May I be rude and ask what kind of fae you are? Rory mentioned you were cait-sidhe, but I’m not sure what that means,” Daniel asked.

“We cait-sidhe are Elder fae, a people as old as the High Court Sidhe.” Fenric explained. “We are shapeshifters. Our magic lets us change our form, an exchange of energy into matter and back again. I can take on many varieties of my people’s preferred form. My people long ago chose a favorite form—that of an ancient wildcat—and that is the form subsequent generations evolved to keep. We are wildcats, fierce and stealthy, and we use the shadows to our advantage. We are also sidhe, and while we are not the great High Court, we share many of our cousins’ abilities. They cannot shapeshift like we can, just as we lack some of their more impressive talents with the elements and their aspects.”

Daniel was fascinated. “That’s amazing. Your eyes are slit vertical like a cat’s, which makes sense now. Thank you for explaining.”

“You’re welcome,” Fenric said. He didn’t mind curiosity, and Daniel was polite about it.

The tea was steeped and Cian poured the cups, and Fenric was delighted when Cian doctored the cup exactly how Fenric liked it—two sugars and a dollop of honey. He had a sweet tooth. Not one for milk in tea. He accepted the cup and saucer from Cian and sipped, pleased that Cian remembered how Fenric took his tea after all this time.

Everyone got their cup of tea, and Fenric enjoyed the companionable silence for several minutes.

Until a sharp chirp interrupted the peace.

Cian, setting aside his cup and saucer, reached into a pocket and pulled out his phone. He stilled, thumb hovering over the screen as he read the notification.

“Brother?” Rory asked, presumably not reading his brother’s mind in that moment. A second later, both Daniel and Rory’s phones beeped as well, their respective owners pulling them out and checking.

“Angel is coming to see us,” Daniel announced.

“Oh, how lovely,” Fenric murmured, curious about the necromancer. “Make him a cup, this tea is delicious.”

“Here or at the house?” Rory asked, even as he typed a reply.

“In the house—Connie is coming as well,” Cian said, slipping his phone back in his pocket. He cast a contemplative glance over Fenric. “The necromancer controls the secrets for his clan. I don’t know how he’ll tolerate you. To him, you are a stranger.”

Fenric stood, setting his tea aside on the bench as well. “I have assassins to intercept if he doesn’t want to share family secrets with me.” He shrugged, nonchalant, though curious about what the necromancer had to say. His curiosity was hard to hold back some days. Kept him from getting too bored. Living forever had some downsides, with boredom at the top of the list.

Fenric stretched, and with a faint mreow , shrank down into his housecat form. He licked his paw, setting his whiskers right, and yawned, showing pearly white fangs. He blinked slowly at the beguilingly confused Daniel and the amused Rory.

“Did you? Did he? That was so fast! I missed it completely!” Daniel stammered out, flustered but delighted.

“If you’re good I’ll do it again later,” Fenric said, his magic helping him speak in this form.

Daniel blinked at him in surprise. “You can talk as a cat.”

“You can talk as a person,” Fenric replied, prancing over to the young sidhe and twining around his ankles, scent-marking him.

Daniel went pink across his cheeks and gave him a faint glare, Rory chuckling.

Strong, gentle hands scooped him off the ground, and Fenric purred as Cian held him to his chest, high enough for Fenric to rub his chin along Cian’s jaw several times, whiskers tickling the sidhe. Cian was the only one he wanted holding him like this—if anyone else tried he would introduce them to his claws.

“Come, let us see what the necromancer wants,” Cian said, leading the way from the conservatory. “It might be amusing.”

Cian

Cian carried Fenric in his arms up the garden path to the grand house. As a housecat, Fenric was small and hardly weighed a thing. He idly scratched along Fenric’s chin, eliciting loud purrs as Fenric accepted the attention as his due.

Daniel and Rory followed behind him, speaking quietly to themselves, the newlyweds still in that honeymoon phase where they were constantly in each other’s space and always touching. Cian found it charming, and was glad for his twin—when Rory was happy, so was Cian.

And Rory was incandescent with joy most days.

The kitchen was empty when Cian opened the door and entered the Mansion, but voices ahead toward the front of the house had Cian walking deeper into the Mansion.

The servants’ hall emptied into the grand foyer, and Cian went to the library, still holding Fenric, the cat-sidhe’s ears pricked upwards and his eyes wide.

Cian paused by the library doors, letting Rory and Daniel pass him as they entered the huge room. Inside, a plethora of people awaited them.

The Salvatore Clan had grown from two scions to over a dozen people. Many of them were among the most powerful supernatural beings in the country. Ignacio Salvatore and Ashwin Metcalfe, a bonded pair, sat on a love seat near the fireplace, and Cian’s senses told him their son Leandro was playing video games with Eroch upstairs in his room.

Remigius and his new mate, Celyn, sat together in an armchair next to a couch that held Isaac and Constantine, and Rory and Daniel headed to join them. Dame Milly Fontaine sat in a chair beside Angel where he stood talking to his mate. She was dressed in a bright blue maxi dress that clung to her curves and set off her bright silver hair and the diamonds in her ears.

The sunlight wards glittered on the windows as clouds raced over the summer sky outside, Cian able to see the magic that rendered the vampire mates safe in the house during the day. The entire Mansion was aglow with spells, centuries of magic layered for generations.

Angel Salvatore, head of the family and the Necromancer of Boston, sat in a chair and that seemed to be the signal for everyone to stop talking and take seats as well. Cian strolled into the library with Fenric and chose an armchair off to the side, Fenric settling in his lap with a happy purr.

Angel wasn’t slow, nor oblivious, so as soon as Cian sat, Angel clocked the cat in his lap.

“Cian, did you get another pet? I still don’t know what other pets you claim to have, but this one looks normal-ish.”

“Hello again,” Fenric said, loud enough for the mortal mates to hear. Everyone turned in their seats to look, Cian smirking at their startled gazes. “We’ve met a few times. What did you end up doing with the assassin you caught this morning?”

Angel stared at Fenric for a long second. He lifted a hand, not to cast, but to point. “Are you the giant cat I saw this morning across the street in Beacon Hill?”

“Less giant now, but yes. The assassin?”

“O’Malley took him to jail,” Angel replied absently, gazing hard at Fenric, managing well for someone finding himself talking to a cat. “Hello, Fenric.”

“Smart human,” Fenric replied, tail thumping on Cian’s thigh. “What’s the meeting for? Anything fun?”

Isaac, mated to Constantine, and far more impulsive than his older brother, said, “There’s a talking housecat in Cian’s lap. This is Fenric? Hi there.” Isaac leaned around his mate and waved at Fenric. “You’re Cian’s friend? I didn’t know he had friends.”

“Isaac, don’t be mean!” Daniel admonished. “Of course Cian has friends, he’s older than dirt.”

Cian chuckled, amused by the younglings’ banter. “I don’t have friends as such, aside from a handful of people I haven’t seen in a good long while. Fenric is one of them.”

Angel sat back in his chair and contemplated Cian and Fenric for a long moment, before turning in his seat and looking at Rory where he sat on the couch beside his mate. “You vouch for him?”

Rory nodded once, decisively. “Yes. Fenric can be trusted.”

“Alright,” Angel said with a nod of his own. He spoke to Fenric. “I’ll have your word you won’t speak of what you learn in this meeting with anyone not already present. I’ll ask you to leave otherwise.”

“Reasonable, and I swear.”

“Good,” Angel then turned to Constantine. “What’s going on?”

“Two-fold problem. The less critical one is that the High Council continues to try and sway blood donors into either betraying the clan or outright poisoning their blood to kill members. Those donors that refuse are killed. We’ve lost three blood donors in the last two days; all three were found this morning in their external residences during wellness checks by the bloodclan. They were killed by magic.”

“Your remaining donors?” Angel asked, and Simeon answered.

“We’re bringing all donors that don’t live in the Tower into the complex for their own safety. They should all be accounted for by this evening. The police have been alerted and are helping to track down all blood donors during the day.”

“That’s not good—if that’s the lesser of the two problems I’m almost afraid to ask what the second issue is.”

“The High Council has teams in the Armenian countryside about twenty miles from where Rageshi sleeps. I got satellite footage this morning. Two teams are heading in the general direction of his lair.”

Cian paused in his petting of Fenric, disturbed a bit by Connie’s news.

Rageshi was old, for a vampire at least, and only a generation removed from the First Vampires. He was phenomenally strong, gifted, and Cian’s favorite part—mentally unstable due to his nature as a mortal man before his Turning. He had been a proto-blood mage of sorts, practicing the earliest form of blood magics, well before it was an established discipline or in later years, an addiction. His magical state messed with his Turning, and resulted in him needing the medallion to control him and his mental state.

Waking Rageshi was either the worst idea the Council ever had, or the best.

“How can they know where he sleeps?” Angel asked.

“I am not sure,” Connie said. “They may be guessing, or someone has hacked into my satellite data. The Council can afford to bribe their way into satellite access. They may have figured it out by my activity if they’re digitally spying on the Bloodclan, as I believe they are.”

“So they won’t know the exact location of his lair,” Angel said. “Right?”

Connie shook his head. “I’ve never been that specific in my satellite requests, merely a rough eagle’s eye view of the region. I look mostly for large groups of people or vehicles. The preserve where he sleeps is roughly 1700 acres. They’d be looking for months if they were going just by the satellite requests I’ve made.”

“If they wake him without the medallion it’s going to be a bloodbath,” Simeon warned. “He’ll be uncontrollable and ravenous.”

“If the Council wakes him, he’ll kill them,” Angel interjected softly. “Good for us, but bad for the world. He won’t be satisfied by a dozen or so mortals; he’ll keep gorging on blood until he’s stopped or he regains his sanity.”

“And he cannot be poisoned by magic, so it won’t matter if he gorges on enforcers.” Connie added. “He never explained how; I merely took it as a sign of his power and age.”

“He’ll feast on anyone and everyone, then.” Angel said.

“That is my fear, yes,” Connie said. “There are small cities and towns nearby full of innocent people. He will kill everything that moves unless he’s awakened by the medallion and the one who holds it.”

Angel frowned, looking around the room, tense. Cian knew what was coming.

“I’ll go with Connie,” Cian volunteered before Angel could even ask. “He needs someone as strong as Rageshi to stand with him while he wakes his sire. Anyone mortal who stands in that lair as Rageshi wakes would be in terrible danger, especially the human mates.”

“What? Why can’t I go? My shields are strong, nothing can get through them,” Isaac protested. He turned to his mate. “I’m not letting you go without me.”

Cian sighed loudly, and Isaac spun in his seat and sent him a nasty glare. “Youngling, a vampire that old can punch through your shields with minimal effort. For Goddess’ sake, he’s old enough to break Invitational magics and ward lines. He’ll be less interested in attacking another vampire—they aren’t food, and Rageshi will likely ignore any vampire that’s there unless they get in his way.”

“What about you? You’re full of life magic,” Isaac countered. “You’re a fucking buffet to a vamp.”

“We sidhe don’t shed magic like mortals do,” Fenric interrupted, startling Isaac enough that he snapped his mouth shut. “Elder fae like the sidhe generate and keep life magics, passing it back and forth between us and the natural world, and it’s not consumable by drinking our blood. Drinking from Cian is as useless as drinking from a vampire. Younger fae species and mortals are food. Elder fae like the sidhe and other vampires are not food. It’s why vampires only evolved after the rise of mortal species on this planet.”

“We might be susceptible to blood magics, if for instance we were used as a sacrifice, but it would take a serious amount of magic to knock us down and out for the duration. Rageshi is likely to be mindless with hunger when he wakes, so we may not need to fear his magic.” That came from Rory, his twin explaining things with far more patience than Cian could.

“I don’t want to assume anything and lose someone,” Angel cautioned.

“I am going if Constans is going,” Isaac interrupted again. “I’m not staying home for this.”

“Then you’ll die and Connie will need to be killed,” Cian said, a bit louder than usual. “You’ll both die.”

“My love, please stay here,” Constans asked his mate, pleading.

“I…it can’t be that bad,” Isaac stammered out, looking from Cian to Constantine and then to Angel. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Worse than bad. No mortals should go, for the same reason,” Angel declared, lifting a hand to stifle Isaac’s objections. “This may be a trap—the Council could be trying to provoke Constans into leading them to the lair himself if he tries to sneak in there.”

“I won’t be flying in on a plane,” Constantine said. “The Way Between will get us there before any mortal means. The medallion could be tracked, as it was crafted by blood magic, but they still need proximity to do that. I might be able to get in and out with my sire before the Council even learns I’ve been in the area.”

“You’re not bringing him here,” Angel ordered. “Not if he’s not in control of himself.”

“I’ll take him to the Tower. In the meantime, I’ll feed him blood unit bags in his lair until he’s regained his mind enough to safely feed from a donor,” Constantine said. “We’ll stay there until he can travel. The medallion will work.”

“Okay.” Angel agreed with a deep sigh. “Constans and Cian are going for Rageshi. We need him out of play immediately. I refuse to let the Council get their hands on him or unleash him on the Armenian population. If waking him is too dangerous…”

Constans shook his head. “Leaving him in his lair as he is right now is too dangerous.” He paused for a second. “The conditions for his awakening have been met, based on his instructions. If he was in danger of being used as a weapon again, he wanted to be awakened to prevent it.”

“It’s decided then,” Angel said. “Cian and Constans are going. But you need backup, especially if you meet with those teams of enforcers from the Council.”

“Simeon, I need you here,” Constans said before Simeon could volunteer. “The Bloodclan needs you here dealing with the machinations of the Council.”

“Yes, Master,” Simeon said with a dip of his head. “Ellora and I will deal with it while you’re gone.”

“Volunteers?” Angel asked. “No mortals can go, which means Milly and I can’t go either.” Milly didn’t look upset to be excluded from the mission, more relieved than anything.

Daniel and Rory took one long look at each other and then Daniel spoke. “Since I’m sidhe now, I’m safer than a mortal mate. Rory and I will go.”

Isaac squawked in protest but Angel shook his head at his little brother. “Isaac, you’re staying here.” He nodded to Daniel. “You and Rory are going. We need more combatants, though.” Daniel appeared touched and surprised by Angel’s easy acceptance.

Connie pulled out his phone and typed quickly, and a moment later got a response. “Ricon is willing to accompany us as well. He is a formidable warrior.”

“I saw him fight the golems,” Angel agreed with a nod. “Alright, I think that might be enough. Constans, Cian, Ricon, Rory, and Daniel.”

“And me!” Fenric said, tail twitching. “I’m going. This sounds fun.”

Angel blinked at Fenric and then looked to Cian, who gave a single nod. Angel shrugged. “Alright, Fenric too. I need everyone who’s going to get themselves ready to depart as soon as Constans is ready. Constans, do what you need to do in order to prepare.”