13. War

13

WAR

F ormer First Spear Illyria Amati’s dark gaze is cold like iron as she takes in Lucca and me standing before her. I feel like I’m eighteen again, weathering her stern, impeccable evaluation as she sees everything about me.

It’s like I’m right back there, as she judges me and my magic—judging whether I’m fit to join the ranks for battle. She always was bright as the noontime sky with her laughter, yet cold as death with her blades. A faeadonna to never underestimate, her silent evaluation is everything now as she looks at me just like she did then, to see whether I’m good enough for this war.

Except it’s her daughter this time, that I’m fighting for.

“So. The prodigal prince returns.” She addresses me first, though Lucca is technically her Summer Fae Prince now. “Both prodigal ruffians. Dark Fae now…”

“How long have you known?” I don’t mince words with my father’s former First Spear; it’s never wise to bandy words with a professional warmonger .

Even though she’s used her skills to save thousands, even tens of thousands, these past few centuries.

“I had my suspicions. I didn’t know for certain what had happened to the both of you until I trafficked Dark Fae myself, and learned more of their ways.” She raises an eyebrow at me now, before her penetrating gaze flicks to Lucca. As they stare each other down next, Illyria inhales. A strange glint enters her eyes as she shakes her head. “Both of the Summer Fae princes are Dark Fae, and have been for quite some time… what will our people think?”

“Our people don’t know about me yet.” Lucca’s face is hard as he stares our once-General down now. His bright rainbows churn around him with dark edges in the sunlight as he impresses his point to her.

More like my power than I’ve ever seen from him.

“And I won’t be the one to tell them, nor anyone here on this farm,” Illyria says as she stands tall. Though she’s a petite woman, the power that cascades off of her is enormous and always has been. I feel her magic roar off her now as she stares Lucca down in a stand-off, her rose gold power seething from her as it lights the morning up all around.

Before Lucca nods, acknowledging that we’re all on the same page.

Before we can say more to Ariana’s adopted mother, however, her adopted father steps through the open door of the manor. Dressed in a grey Victorian-style vest embroidered with gold, Adicus Briarwick moves down the porch stairs, his grey trousers complemented by russet men’s riding boots, and his white shirt rolled up to his elbows.

He reaches up and runs a hand through his short, tawny blond hair as he watches us. Though Adicus was always a tremendous power in the Darkwatch as their Tempest, their second-in-command, he’s never been a man of haste.

He does not hurry now as he takes us in. A gentilfae of deep thoughts and even deeper emotions, his emerald green eyes with their shadowy ring of grey take in everything about Lucca and me now as he approaches.

He goes to Ariana first, embracing her for a long while, silent. Deep love passes between father and daughter as they hold each other, though they have no words.

As Adicus sets his forehead against Ariana’s, simply being together, he closes his eyes and she does, too. Peace moves inside Ariana, then. For here is her stalwart support, the quiet solace in her life whenever her mother’s storm became too much.

The stillpoint and the rock of groundedness in any war—just like Adicus was for Lucca and me, long ago.

“ Ragazzi .” Adicus looks at Lucca and me then, pinning us with his forest-and-shadow eyes. He puts an arm with subtle protectiveness around Ariana’s shoulder now, her mother’s arm slipping to her waist as she protects Ariana as well.

It doesn’t escape me that Adicus has just called us boys , like he used to long ago when Lucca was in the Darkwatch and Adicus found out about our clandestine relationship.

He never told anyone, least of all Lucca’s father, whom Adicus always carried a veiled hatred for, despite how closely he had to work with Archivolio Bellari as Head Commander of the Darkwatch back then. Adicus retired from service after Lucca’s father took the throne, followed by Illyria, who hated Archivolio with a passion.

But that was long after I went to the Vampires and Lucca became Prince of the Summer Fae, by a few hundred years. Lucca and I will always be young, hotheaded ruffians to the cool, ancient calm of Adicus. Illyria is nearly eight hundred years old, but I have no clue how old Adicus is.

Far older than even my father, at the time of his death in the War of Rome.

“ Signore Briarwick. Signora Amati. Thank you for letting us come to your most beautiful home.” I don’t use their former Summer Fae titles as I address them, but the weight of everything they’ve been hangs between Adicus, Illyria, Lucca, and me now, as Ariana shifts uncomfortably between her parents.

Trapped by their protective embrace .

“You have some balls coming here, Prince Valerio Incendari,” Illyria says with a slight shine in her dark eyes now, though her stance is still protective as she evaluates me. “Bringing not only the Summer Fae King’s ire here, but also the full might of the Vampire Council of Rome.”

“I bring Dark Fae here for protection, nothing more.” I am firm as I keep my calm, though part of me is tempted to fall back into patterns I had when I was still a young renegade. I’m an older, more wizened renegade now; I see that knowledge hit both of Ariana’s parents as they watch me, their intense gazes missing nothing of what I once was, what I had to become, and what I’m changing into now.

The deep watchfulness of Adicus eases first, as the smallest lift comes to his lips. He gives me a slow nod, though Illyria still purses her lips at me.

Then at last heaves a hard sigh.

“Fine.” She waves a hand in a very Italianate gesture as she at last capitulates. “This farm is not equipped to ward against Vampires chasing us down, however. We have much to do in the coming days. You must come inside. You are all famished, and those Novakitsk clothes will never do, even this late in the Florentine season. Come.”

As they turn, ushering Ariana into the house between them, Lucca and I follow. Though this entire situation is beyond strange, re-encountering Adicus and Illyria after all these years, plus knowing they’re Ariana’s parents and extremely protective of her, we don’t hesitate to enter the house we’ve been invited into.

But Lucca and I have never known Adicus Briarwick and Illyria Amati outside of their relationship to the Summer Fae palace and the Darkwatch; everything about their home is illuminating now, as we step up the large stone porch.

Done in Italian Renaissance style, with stone walls, white stucco, red roof tiles, and ornate vaulted archways for every entrance and window, the large main house connects to smaller adjacent buildings via indoor and outdoor corridors. As we enter through the vaulted archway over the front door, then step inside, I see how every white stone has gilded script shimmering through it, the same as the broad veranda out front.

Those Fae sigils are luminous, but they’re all wards. Though beautiful, shining in the summer day as the tall cypress trees flanking the house and driveway whisper in the morning breeze, I know they’re utterly deadly.

A nasty surprise for any enemy that might come calling.

It helps ease the sting of all I’ve lost today, to know we’ll be safe here. Though Illyria says those wards aren’t for Vampires, I feel a brisk, seeking sensation pour through my aura now as I enter the house, pummeling through my inner darkness and searing it with light.

I shiver as I arrive inside the foyer; had I been a Vampire, I have no doubt those wards would have blasted me with pure sunlight. As Illyria glances at me, I know whom it was that put those particular wards around the door.

Though she put away her magic later, to keep Ariana safe.

“Here we are,” Illyria says as she releases Ariana to wipe her hands on her filthy apron again, giving both Lucca and me the eyeball. “I must attend to a few batches of salves that are already in progress. You three can go with Adicus; darling, be a dear and entertain them in your study until I can have Dorabella make up the guest suites.”

“They’re Aria’s guests, darling, they can do as they please in our home.” Adicus has a teasing gleam in his green eyes now as he glances at his lifemate, but his gaze is intense as it pins me again, then Lucca. “They’re our Princes, after all. Or have been.”

“Fine.” Illyria throws up her hands again, then puts them on her hips as she lifts an eyebrow at me. “Don’t get too comfortable, either of you. Neither of you is sleeping in her room with her, and that’s final.”

“ Mamma! ” Ariana’s eyes go wide as she glares daggers at her mother. Something about it is so lovely and normal, in everything we’ve been through, that I laugh.

A good sound as it pours out of me, despite everything.

“ Faeadonna Amati. I would never dream of besmirching the honor of your most beautiful home. Or your daughter.” I put my hand upon my heart, feeling it beat for the woman I love.

“Summers,” she says as she stares me down hard, then Lucca. “We are Summers in this household, and dispense with the Faeadonna. Not all who help here at the farm are aware of who and what we are, nor the operations we keep for the Dark Fae. Our wards prevent any magic from being felt or seen by our human help while they are on the premises. While you are here, however, you are human. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” I say with my hand still on my heart, reining in my magic to the best of my ability now, like I do when I visit the human world for art auctions and galas.

“Of course,” Lucca echoes, his hand on his heart also as he pulls his magic in, as well. A renegade like me, Lucca has been to the human world countless times against his father’s edicts; like me, he knows how to power down his magic to look and feel human, though nothing can ever quite disguise our beauty and obvious otherness.

Illyria glances between us a moment, then gives a hard nod. I know it as her old, commanding ways in battle, as she turns and heads into the kitchen.

Which leaves us with Adicus out in the entrance hall.

“My lords. Come.” Adicus is more cordial now as he extends a hand, inviting us into the house. “I have a morning repast with coffee in my study that we may enjoy until Illyria marshals the house help into getting you three a proper meal.”

“Thank you, Adicus.” I nod to him as Lucca does, as well.

As Alleno gives Lucca a brief nod now, moving to the front porch and taking up a watchful stance at the entrance of the manor, Lucca and I follow the former Tempest of the Darkwatch into his home. Ariana goes before us with her father, an arm around his waist.

I admire the gorgeous entry hall of the Renaissance manor now, festooned with plants and dried herbs that hang in all the white stuccoed niches between the strong wooden beams, plus beautiful classical Italian Renaissance statuary that linger here and there.

Ornate dragonfly glass flutes hang in the elegant wrought-iron chandeliers, the same sprouting in sconces on the walls to provide light, though they’re not illuminated right now. Natural sunlight floods the lovely space from vaulted windows that devour the ground-floor rooms. It gives Ariana’s home a lovely, homey feel, with the artistic and herbal decor all around.

An ornate grand staircase of wrought-iron curls up to the second floor. Inset with gold sigils and script, the white stone floor creates a welcoming space that breathes with light and peace, even though I know it’s deadly to any foe that might walk upon it.

As we head towards a doorway halfway down the wide entry hall on the right, beneath the beautiful staircase, I have a moment to take in Adicus.

Always quiet and stern, yet elegant, he’s older now than when I saw him last. His tawny hair has streaks of bright gold and aged silver in it; tall and lean, he’s less robust than I remember him, though just as immaculately put-together as always. His grey Victorian vest shines with gold, his grey trousers, russet men’s riding boots, and white shirt immaculate despite living on a farm.

His only obvious homage to his home and people is a beautiful golden Summer Fae men’s torque around his neck, which peeks out beneath the open collar of his shirt, matched by cuffs of ornately-worked gold at his wrists. Of a lean but wiry build, his piercing, calm command is still in his every movement as he weighs Lucca and me, inviting us into his study as he nods in welcome.

Though we are his current and former Prince, Adicus was never one to stand on ceremony. He simply closes the door behind us, inviting us all to sit on a collection of cocoa leather couches before his broad desk.

I take in his study now, curious about how the Tempest of the Darkwatch lives. The tall, mahogany doors of the study are bound with ornate wrought-iron, also containing intense sigil-work; moving in, I see the gorgeous library is full of built-in mahogany bookshelves in an ornate Summer Fae design.

As I glance around, seeing forest green silk benches built into the vaulted windows for reading, along with the beautiful cocoa leather couches, chairs, and footstools that create a homey environment, I see the lamps are all Tiffany style. As Adicus waves for us to sit on the couches, one section of bookcases catches my eye.

Filled with a treasure trove of human world artifacts, from numerous centuries.

It’s a beautiful collection that might even rival my halls of oddities, though it’s small. An ornate brass spyglass from the 1800s sits next to a lovely Victorian globe, before an old Victrola record player and a shelf full of records. An old box-style coffee grinder from the late 1800s sits next to a beautifully etched silver snuffbox from much earlier, lovingly displayed beside a whalebone and ebony pipe.

Modern items clutter the niche also; I smile to see an original Nintendo Gameboy on the shelf beside a few cartridges, a 6-disc CD-player with a rack of mostly classical CDs beside a pair of original yellow and green Nike sneakers in pristine condition. Shaking my head, I can’t help but smile at Adicus now as he follows my gaze.

His green eyes sparkling as we all sit.

“Your collection of human world curiosities is impressive, Mr. Summers,” I say as we settle. Adicus pushes a silver tray of coffee and orange almond biscotti towards us, just as a servant bustles in with a far larger breakfast spread.

A steaming Bialetti of fresh coffee, plus three espresso cups, milk, sugar cubes, and more biscotti than a giant could eat, she sets it all down with a brisk, Italianate manner then bustles out, ostensibly to get more breakfast ready.

I feel no magical aura whatsoever from her, though, and know she’s one of the house’s human employees .

“They are antique curiosities, yes. And I am very fond of them.” Adicus corrects me now as his help closes the door. His look reminds me to be more careful, as I chastise myself for the brief slip-up that was nearly overheard. Now that their house help is gone, his grey-green eyes pin me. “We may speak plainly when the doors are closed, as they have wards to prevent our human help from hearing anything amiss. But do be careful when we are in an open room, gentlemen.”

“Of course.” I nod soberly as Lucca does the same.

Adicus’ gaze roves me and Lucca now, before he takes in Ariana. Uncharacteristically quiet, she’s chosen a leather chair adjacent to the couch Lucca and I sit on; it’s between her father and us, as if she expects to play referee to our conversation.

She’s tense; I feel it grip all through her now as she clenches her hands in her lap. With a deep breath, I make the first move, leaning in to pour her a coffee, then make one for Lucca and myself.

Adicus already has one, as he leans forward and claims it now.

The silence is deafening as we all sip, Ariana taking a biscotto and dipping it nervously.

“So. The time has come for war. All over again.”

Adicus’ dark words startle me, not to mention Ariana and Lucca. I had thought he might open our conversation with talk about his daughter and whether he approves of us bonding her.

But just like the Adicus of old, the turning of millennia is always on his mind. It shows now as he addresses our greater situation with the Summer Fae King, and the Vampire Council of Rome first and foremost.

“We did not intend to bring war to your doorstep, Adicus, truly—” Lucca begins now, though Adicus waves a hand, dismissing his words elegantly.

“War is upon us, young one,” Adicus says with dire calm now as he responds. “You did not start it, and you will not end it, though you are in the middle of it. The tensions between Fae, Dark Fae, and Vampire have been with us since the Fall of our ancient ancestors, when they first created Rome. War is not my pastime; not anymore. Protection is. I wield everything I ever learned in the Darkwatch now towards that aim. And my wife does, as well.”

“You protected me as a baby,” Ariana says as she stares her adopted father down. “You saved me when the Revenant Gold Eyes destroyed my family, then made me Dark Fae as a one-day-old infant. Why?”

Watching her, Adicus takes a long, slow breath now, as if stilling himself from a deep upwelling of emotion. I see it, however, as the most surprising rage and the hottest hatred sparks in his eyes.

The true Tempest returning.

“Because Archivolio Bellari was in league with that thing .” Adicus’ dire glance takes us all in, terrible, though it has nothing to do with us. “He knew what you were, Valerio and Lucca, right from the moment you were Made Dark Fae in your youth. And I could not stand by and let him destroy yet another noble Summer Fae line. All in service to the Gold Eyes’ unfathomable wrath.”