Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

H yax sat in a chair by the side of Gwil's bed, his feet up on the mattress. He'd taken to sitting in here for hours at a time, just to keep an eye on him. Midnight had taken up position on one of the pillows and Hyax suspected Gwil's cat could sense something wrong with her usual food provider. He'd toyed with casting some sort of charm but he didn't want to risk interference with whatever residual effect the portal was having.

Gwil moaned. He hadn't thought vampires could sweat or run a fever, but so far Gwil had gone through two cycles of extreme temperatures as he'd healed but had yet to wake up. Hyax sucked thoughtfully on a lavender bonbon. He'd stripped Gwil down to his underwear, but he should change Gwil's bedding sooner rather than later as it would be unpleasant when he woke up. Whether it would be more unpleasant than the awkward realisation of what Hyax had done was debatable.

There'd been a definite improvement over the last twenty-four hours, or it seemed to be the case, as he wasn't an expert in vampire anatomy. He doubted Gwil would be too impressed if he took him to hospital, they'd have to explain why he was in that position and before long Goya from the Met would be sniffing around and Gwil already had a loathing for the modern police force that went beyond rational. Still, he couldn't leave him like this for much longer. He'd give him another day and, if he wasn't awake then, he'd call a healer and deal with Gwil's annoyance later.

The fact he hadn't been able to solve the issue with Gwil and the fae portals was becoming a bit of a professional insult. He'd been researching the phenomena on and off since the first incident without much luck. Several years on and the little interest from his or the other tribes in learning why another species might have a problem using something not designed for their physiology, meant he had no resolution. He couldn't ask directly as the first question would be why he cared about something that would only be hypothetical. Even if it was a future scenario, there was no good reply as to what he could be doing that would mean he'd need to provide a vampire with an emergency exit. And the one tribe who might have answers wasn't keen to share or socialise with the other fae so for now it wasn't an avenue he could explore.

He flicked through a book he'd found in the castle's library, another volume where much of the content had been superseded by current magical theory, but there was the odd glimpse of potential that, if he could get the right handle on it, he was sure would help. He suspected Gwil might be able to travel to and from the fae realm but there was something about the energy flow when using them to travel from one part of the human realm to another that caused the problem. Maybe he could ask one of the researchers in the university, or rather have Cikla ask as she'd get far fewer questions, not being a member of the royal family, and having been something of an academic in her younger years.

The portal business was only part of it, because his other issue was what had happened to his magic when he'd been in the museum. There'd been no long-lasting effect, pretty much returning to normal the moment he was out, but that didn't explain the problem to begin with. Sometimes very powerful artefacts could distort his powers, and he'd felt whispers of a force in the British Museum, and several others before, but never on this scale. Once Gwil was better he'd go back, walk the building and concentrate on his surroundings.

What had surprised him was as of yet no one had been in touch about him opening a portal out of hours in a classified building. A breach of that nature should have triggered something, but he'd not heard a whisper. He supposed it could have been reported to the security council, whose standard response would have been a swift, insincere apology but Hyax wouldn't have been in trouble for breaking royal protocol. Somehow he couldn't help but think this was linked to whatever was going on with Goya, because Hyax had been with Gwil and that would have been enough to unleash the petty bureaucrat in Goya.

Hyax stretched. He'd been sitting here too long and he needed another cup of tea.

Gwil yawned and sat up, feeling somewhere between highly strung and having been hit by a lorry. The reaction to the portal was more extreme than the other time they'd tried it, when he'd only needed one bag of blood and some comfort chocolate. It wasn't usual for Hyax's magic to affect him, well not in a non-tingly-too-nice way, but the portals, which were tunnels through concentrated fae space, didn't agree with him.

Midnight cracked open an eye and closed it again. Good to know where he stood on her priority list. His bedroom door opened and Hyax entered sipping a cup of tea. He noticed a chair had been pulled close to the bed and a book lay open.

"Oh, thank fuck you're awake." He sat on the edge of the bed. "You've been asleep for two days. If it had gone on any longer I would have called a healer."

"I can't imagine they'd have been able to help."

Hyax put his tea on the side then grabbed Gwil's chin and stared into his eyes. "I'm no medic but I think your eyes no longer having streaks of purple lightning running through them is a definite improvement."

"Good call. Explains the strange echoes when I blink, but I expected more of a headache." He rubbed the back of his neck, working out a stiff muscle. "What happened? I remember some strange shit went down in the museum, you were having trouble with your magic and the portal almost fried me alive."

"I don't know. I've never felt anything quite like it before—as if my magic was being pulled in many directions and wouldn't do as I commanded it. It was as if an external force was trying to shift its pattern."

Gwil hadn't the first clue what Hyax was going on about. "You know me and magic, I don't know what any of that means. But how are you feeling now?"

Hyax shrugged. "Fine, once we were out of the British Museum it returned to normal. I've not contacted home to see if anyone has had problems since I would have had to explain it."

Gwil thought Hyax would have been hauled off to justify himself. "You mean you've not already been asked about your illegal portal use?"

"No. Actually, there's something else going on at home. I don't know what, but not being pulled up for this infraction seems odd and maybe related."

Gwil knew that while Hyax could be a bit of a prima donna in many things, he didn't over-egg a political issue. "You've no idea?"

"All I know for certain is Goya visited my mother and her security council. She won't tell me anything else."

His fangs extended at the name and he had to control his reaction. "Goya?"

"Your favourite person. I'm trying to find out more, but for now don't overreact."

Easier said than done. "All right. You've no need to rush off now, though?"

Hyax smirked. "How about we watch some terrible television? Oh, we can watch the one about the aliens—no the ghost hunters, and laugh about how wrong they get it?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Come on then, you lazy sod, get out of bed."

He'd much prefer Hyax to get into bed with him, but for now he'd take what he could get. A friendship like this was hard to find when you were dead.