DeVante's Coven (18 page)

DeVante bade Roderick to kneel behind him, and Roderick did so, forehead resting on the floor. Then told the boy and girl to stand before him. The boy did as he was told, but the girl dropped to a huddle at his feet. “Stand child,” DeVante said, but she just shook her head, sobbing quietly. He commanded them easily, more easily, it seemed, than he had ever commanded Daniel. But maybe not, for when DeVante addressed him, “Daniel, you are my witness,” and gestured to a chair, Daniel sat without question or thought.

DeVante addressed the group. “Lily has brought death to the house, to this safe place.”

Daniel felt a wave of shock rip through him, and immediately began touching the minds of every person present in the house, wondering who was missing and why he hadn’t noticed a glaring hole where a mortal should have been. All here were his friends, practically his lovers, and he knew each intimately. Yet… he didn’t note the absence of any who were usually present. His little gang felt intact. He started at DeVante, willing the eldest vampire to give more information.

As if he felt the stare, DeVante looked to Daniel, tipped his head, and her name crept into Daniel’s head,
Trina
. And Daniel felt a small pang for her passing; she was just starting to become the mother figure in Daniel’s house, and, thinking she was DeVante’s spy made him cautious, despite the sweet kisses he gave her when he sipped her blood. But he knew in his head, heart, that DeVante had cared for her, however much he was loath to admit such attachments to mortals. Gentle love DeVante had said. Daniel’s throat felt tight.

“But you…” DeVante turned around and rested his shiny black boot on the back of Roderick’s neck, holding him to the floor. “You, my wild son, hold all the blame.”

“I do.” Roderick’s voice was quiet, accepting.

Daniel knew it was a game to Roderick, who’d had years to learn when he could argue with DeVante, and when it was best to just submit.

“Tell me why you hold the blame.”

“Because I made Tony. Because I let him away from me long enough for him to make Lily.”

Daniel sucked in air, and looked slit-eyed at Tony, who stood quietly, straight and tall. Jealous? Is that the name for this feeling? Roderick had left Daniel and made a new fledgling. Daniel had begged,
begged
for freaking
months,
and Roderick still had to practically be coerced to do it.

“Out of control. DeVante, I have thought all of these things. You are right. I beg you to forgive me.” His tone was genuinely conciliatory, not snappish or sarcastic.

“Forgiven,” DeVante said immediately. “But you still must suffer. I will chain you in a shadowed corner of the attic and bid you stay there the whole of the day.”

Roderick started to tremble, visibly, and Daniel almost felt sorry for him.

***

DeVante took Lily to the silent house, his house alone, despite the fact that she was clearly terrified, and sobbed in his arms until they arrived. He brought her directly to his room and set her down. At least she stayed on her feet, he thought, having expected her to crumple to the floor yet again.

“I need Tony,” she whispered.

“No. You need me. I will teach you to live.” He caught her with his eyes and drew her to him with a small gesture. She came to him without resistance, hands clasped tightly together in front of her, eyes locked on his face. DeVante reached out and tipped her chin further up with his fingers so he could stare into her directly. “Offer me your throat,” he commanded.

She didn’t speak, but tilted her head slightly to the side; she was small and fragile, like an injured bird, eminently breakable. He wanted to be gentle with her, careful, and when he lowered his head he was almost hesitant, leading the small bite with tiny licks of his tongue.

She moaned when he slipped his fangs into her neck and drew her blood with infinite care. She tasted of fear, like one would expect from a trapped and frightened bird, and this quickened the Hunger, made him want to devour her. He took immediate control, as he always did—of the hunger—of everything—and then withdrew.

She moaned again and leaned into him, suddenly less shy, hands grappling with his clothing, tiny mews from her throat begging him to take more of her.

He held her still, and when she quieted and looked at him, he shook his head.

“But how can you stop?” she whispered. “How can you?”

“Practice,” he said. “And feeding regularly. I do not starve myself, if there is another option.” He held his wrist out to her. “Drink. Take it back and more. I give to you freely, and make of you my own.” She stared at his wrist but did not move. “Tony and I shall have dual claim on you, for he cannot teach you to control this. It is too big for him. And he has his own lessons to learn. Go ahead. You cannot harm me.”

She leapt at him then, passing by his wrist entirely and scaling his body to reach his throat, crying out as her teeth broke through flesh, then keening a soft murmur as she drank, like a purr. DeVante wrapped his arms around her body, supporting her, and let her drink until she chose to stop. She filled herself for a long while.

Repulsive images of what she had suffered as a mortal filled his head. It was almost unendurable for him to be privy to the horrifying acts perpetrated upon her as a child. He would have to speak of it to her, acknowledge her pain, her broken-ness. But there would be plenty of time for that.

His own hunger would rise, but he would survive until nightfall. And beyond and beyond and beyond. Time was never ending—there was always time.

Lily finally slid down his body until her feet again rested on the floor. “It doesn’t hurt you?” Her voice was a sensual woman’s voice, velvet smoke, a startling contrast to her child-like features and helpless whimpering.

He shook his head. “Letting you drink your fill makes me hungry, that is all. It cannot hurt me.” He let his voice fill her head.
Be still, little one
.

And she obeyed, her body quieting, arms resting loosely at her sides, face and jaw and spine relaxing until she swayed on her feet. He reached out to steady her. “Good,” he whispered, and pulled her in close and tight.

He picked her up in a cradle carry and laid her out on his bed. Her body stiffened then, eyes flying open, and DeVante could feel her fighting him, trying to shake off the spell. He pressed more firmly into her mind, soothing her with his thoughts.
Shhh. No one will hurt you. No one will ever be able to hurt you unless you allow it. Now sleep.

Her eyes closed and she relaxed again.

There was an hour before sunrise, and when he was convinced Lily had succumbed to his suggestion of sleep, he left to check on Roderick and to feed. He had essentially just created a fledgling. Would there be no end to fledglings? And they were all young, too young, a waste of time and energy.

He reminded himself to be patient. After all, he had nothing but time. His Emily would be away for decades, far from him in both distance and desire, so why should he not be Lily’s savior? Daniel had trained well and easily and was now able to amuse himself with very little need of intervention.

What else had he to do but train the young ones, and what matter if they survived or not in the end? This moment was the only one that mattered. Perhaps they would band together and form their own coven, Daniel as their leader. Perhaps not. He should know by now to never second-guess fledglings.

His visit to Roderick in the attic of Daniel’s house was brief.

Roderick was in strict bonds, crying, tears staining his cheeks and wetting the platform he crouched on. Even the long brown hair around his face was wet with tears.

Tony sat on the floor, rocking with to and fro movements. He looked up at DeVante with pleading eyes. “Please, please let him go. He’s so afraid, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Do nothing,” DeVante said. “It is his punishment and less than he deserves. He will bear it. Stay with him, move him if the sun might touch him. That is all.”

Roderick wore an iron collar DeVante had placed around his neck, a D ring on the collar attached by a very short chain to a bolt ring set in the wood. He was forced to huddle on the platform, barely able to raise his head, trapped and miserable like an animal. Under normal circumstances he could, of course, break free, but DeVante bid him to stay and then drank from him deeply, stealing his strength.

“This is awful,” Tony cried.

“Not so awful, “ DeVante said. “It is deserved, and only for one day. If the sun reaches too close, if even a finger of it might touch him, you may drag him out of harm’s way. That is what you are here for. If not for you, I would have chosen a mortal to do it.”

Turning away from the half-vampire, DeVante asked Roderick, “Do you want more bonds? Would you be more secure if you were less able to move?”

“No,” Roderick ground out, his voice strained. “This is enough. Too much. I will go mad.”

DeVante did not think Roderick would go mad. Some vampires would, yes, but not this one. “Then suffer as you are. I have no sympathy for you, Rule Breaker, bringing not one, but two fledglings into our world who are too young to survive without aid. Three, if I include Daniel, but he proves a good choice, strong and resilient. Lily is not such a good choice.”

He had, in fact, been shocked at the glimpses of Lily’s past that had been given up to him when he took such small, careful sips from her. And when she drank from him, well they tumbled from her memory and into DeVante’s head seemingly without end. Her abusers deserved torture far worse than what he was giving Roderick. And that might be something DeVante would see about. Or have Lily see about herself, because, in his secret heart, he agreed with Tony about revenge. It would be something to consider if she found the will to live.

“Then I bid you stay awake, Roderick, unable to free yourself, unable to escape. As your Master I command it.” He pressed the command into Roderick’s brain. “Feel fear, my son, and know that by punishing you, I also absolve you.” He bent to kiss Roderick’s wet cheek, patted Tony on the head, and left them to the nightmare of this day.

Chapter 21



How to love a boy

In the morning it dawned on Reed that he’d issued a challenge to… what was his name again? —the whatever—son of Daniel’s guardian. Why the hell had he got involved in whatever was going on between them? He should have just left them to it. He’d been trying to convince himself that he needed to shake the kid off his tail anyway.

But then he did know, didn’t he? And it almost had very little to do with Daniel. It was the way that punk—Roderick, that was his name—came strutting across the dance floor like he was some fucking Alpha, basically telling Reed, “Hands off. He’s my boy.”

And Reed, who could be accused of being apathetic, but never dense, made the connection. The guardian’s son, the one who raped Daniel more than once and called it love.

And Reed had looked across the dance floor to see Daniel looking all distressed, speaking to Roderick, gesturing with his hands, and Roderick’s own hand trying to steer Daniel towards the exit. Reed just couldn’t let it go. Daniel was a sweet kid, and he didn’t deserve to be treated that way.

Almost without thought Reed’s body followed his eyes, and somehow a challenge was issued. Some weird battle of wills took place as they stared into each other, unmoving. And it was Reed who took the first step back.

The kid left with his guardian’s son, and Reed resolved to be kinder to the boy, try to help him extricate himself from the situation. He had a fleeting thought to call the kid’s guardian… but realized his interest wasn’t pure and would likely be considered inappropriate.

He would just watch for the kid, for now, and when he saw him, check that he was all right. That was enough, wasn’t it? After all, it’s not like he really
knew
him.

Maggie stopped by Reed’s apartment later on with some flowers she thought would be nice on the tables. She was always doing kooky stuff like that. She asked after Daniel.

Reed tried to explain about the challenge. “This guy, Roderick, is Daniel’s guardian’s son, and has been abusing him for who knows how long.”

“Oh Reed, how do you know it wasn’t just a story? A story designed to pull you in, get you to take him home.”