20. The Tower

Ellora entered the suite and took a seat in the living room, waiting for him. Isaac slept on, undisturbed, and Constans gently stood, cradling Isaac to him as he moved across the bedroom and laid Isaac gently on the bed. He pulled a thin blanket over his mate, then silently left the bedroom, heading for his legate.

Ellora stood when he entered the living room, giving him a short nod in greeting. "Master Batiste, I have news."

He gestured for her to retake her seat, and sat in the ornate chair that was his alone at the head of the seating arrangement in the living room. No one sat in it but him—and Isaac.

"I tracked down the donors contracted to serve the latest group of fledglings," Ellora stated. "I believe the High Council is interfering with Bloodclan business."

"Elaborate," Constans replied, sitting back in his chair, steepling fingers under his chin.

"The few donors who I managed to find were reluctant to speak to me, making it clear they wanted nothing to do with clan business and donating blood in the future. Two donors were driving brand-new cars, and another two had moved out suddenly, according to their neighbors. They implied some sort of financial windfall led to the disappearing act. I think the Council is paying them off, and the ones who were still in town smelled of guilt and anxiety. The remaining donors I could not find. I sensed they did not want to be found, making me think that they were threatened after the Council failed to buy them off. I know of no other enemies of the clan currently willing and able to shell out so much money so casually just to starve a handful of fledglings."

"Those handful of fledglings could have gone feral and begun killing indiscriminately," Constans reminded his legate. She nodded in agreement, expression pinched. "I need you to begin a thorough investigation into Tower matters, internally and externally. You'll take point, but employ the other legates. I need to know where else the Council dares to meddle in vampire business. We are not the castrated bloodclans of Europe, brought to heel by the Council. I will remind the Council of this, by whatever means necessary."

"Understood, Master." She stood, and bowed slightly at the waist before leaving the suite, shutting the door quietly behind her.

He sat in the chair for a bit longer, thinking. He hated to disturb his only Elder—Angel clearly needed his mate, but Constans needed to alert him to what was going on and get his assistance. Messing with the Tower food-supply chain was a common tactic of their enemies—vampires needed blood, and it could be a weakness as much as a weapon.

Several hours had passed since the emotional confrontation between Ignacio and Angel, and Constans hoped it was enough time for everyone to regain their equilibrium. The Council was moving in on multiple fronts, the combatants getting ready for all-out war.

Everyone needed to be ready, no matter what was going on internally with the Salvatore clan and the Bloodclan. Enemies never waited for their opponents to be ready.

He pulled out his phone and texted Simeon, feeling both guilty at the intrusion and impatient to protect his people.

It was times like this he wished for another Elder. It was rare for a clan their size to have only one Elder—he had spent a few centuries with two Elders until Deimos' betrayal, and perhaps it was time to promote another to the position. None of his unranked masters were suitable, aside from Ricon Dummond, but the old vampire was resolute in remaining as he was, uninterested in the position. Constans had already asked. Every other unranked master in the clan was too motivated by selfish interests to be impartial and see to the betterment of the clan over their individual families. After the debacle with Bridgerton and his betrayals, Constans was even more leery of promoting an outsider to the position. He would only consider it if it was a vampire he knew well.

Simeon replied, and Constans set aside the guilt at his Elder's words confirming he was on his way to the Tower. At least Simeon could use the archway and get there within seconds instead of relying on the clan limos. Less time away from their mates was a convenience Constans and Simeon appreciated.

Loath to leave his mate, Simeon made sure Angel was safely asleep in their bed, tucked in, before heading to shower and get dressed.

It was late afternoon, the sun cutting through the windows in a golden hue that lit up the bathroom. Simeon enjoyed the heat and the glow, wondering again how much sun he could safely be exposed to before burning, now that his mate bond with Angel was fully realized and complete.

It had solidified decades earlier than the average, as had the bond between Isaac and Batiste, and Simeon wondered if that had something to do with Angel. Only two Leannan anam pairings, counting themselves, had been formed since Angel and Simeon bonded, and the pairs or triads prior to Angel joining with Simeon took the usual amount of time to complete the bond. Simeon would need to ask after the new pairs to see if they were bonding faster than usual, too.

It usually took decades, literally, the humans usually reaching their early forties before the bond was strong enough to reverse some aging for the human, and make it safe for the vampire to drink magic-laden blood if their mate was a practitioner, or gain some sun resistance if a mundane mortal.

Simeon took a fast but thorough shower, not wanting to assault his fellow clanmates' senses with the morning activities between himself and his mate. He had no need to broadcast his mated status in such a way, and Angel valued privacy.

Getting dressed in a dark blue suit and white shirt, Simeon detoured to the bed to press a kiss to Angel's hair and pull the blanket up and over one exposed shoulder, not wanting his mate to get chilled.

Finally ready, Simeon made sure he had everything before heading to the archway and tasking it with taking him to the Tower. He left Beacon Hill and walked into the penthouse suite of the Tower downtown in a matter of seconds.

His Master was waiting in the vault for him, the doorway open behind him to the hallway. "Isaac is sleeping."

Simeon nodded in acknowledgement, hearing the unspoken request not to wake the fire mage. He followed Batiste out of the vault, the City Master shutting it behind them, locking the vault door.

He woke with Simeon gone, but that was to be expected, especially as he vaguely recalled the chime of a cellphone in the tone Angel recognized as belonging to Batiste. Even though vampires were nocturnal, trouble came at all hours of the day and night, and Simeon was often called away to the Tower during the day.

Angel checked his own phone, eyeballing a message from Milly.

Milly

My townhouse was breached an hour ago. Council enforcers. The pestilence bomb went off.

Angel

Casualties?

Milly

Several.

Angel

Good. Police involved?

Milly

Only the coroner and O'Malley. He called me and asked if there were any more.

If the cops were involved, Angel hoped they hadn't gone into the townhouse.

Angel

Any one other than Council enforcers hurt?

Milly

No. O'Malley only escorted the coroner. The spell dissipated after 20 mins or so like you designed. No innocents.

Angel

Reaction to you not being there?

Milly

Frustration, and they tried convincing the police to put out a warrant for me. The police declined.

That was good that no one other than enforcers had been hurt. Angel had no desire to hurt anyone not working with the Council.

Milly's wards had held out far longer than either of them initially estimated, but that was not good. It meant the Council was hellbent on reaching all of Angel's allies and friends, and that no one was safe. If the Council was willing to spend hours breaking difficult wards to go after one person, then they were willing to do a whole lot more to get their main objectives—the boy, Angel, Eroch, and the sidhe temple. They had attempted to manipulate several people only weeks earlier to get access to Rory and Cian to control the mound, and there was no way the Council wouldn't commit murder to get their hands on it. Or at least to stop Angel and the Bloodclan from using it.

Whether the Council believed they could use it or not with Cian ‘dead' was another question, one Angel had no answer to. And he was not interested in finding out. Better to assume the worst and prepare for all possibilities than be caught unaware and lose someone.

Cian might not be the friendliest of people, and he was a brand of crazy Angel respected even as he made him a bit nervous—Cian was unpredictable, but he was under Angel's authority and protection for the next thousand years. That meant Cian got the same consideration as everyone else important to Angel, same as Milly or Isaac or Daniel, Simeon or Batiste, anyone.

The Council wanted the boy, Leandro; they wanted Eroch banished or in their custody; and they wanted Angel to stay out of Council business—he was willing to do none of that, and he found it very telling that de la Roche never mentioned the mound, or Cian. He had to know—the Council funded the fanatics that tried kidnapping Daniel and the Brennan twins a couple weeks ago, and blackmailed Hardwick and Sumner into attempting the same. Sumner knew of it for sure, and the Council killed him when he failed to capture Cian and gain control of the mound.

The Council was playing the long game.

Eroch all but vibrated with excitement, eager to get to the Mansion for the day. Angel was heading to the Tower, but he was comfortable sending Eroch through the arch to the Mansion as Daniel and Rory were home, and Cian was waiting for Eroch on the other side.

"Think about going to the Mansion, and the arch will take you there," Angel instructed, Eroch nodding in understanding. The archway was barely wide enough to let the growing dragon through, and yet even as he thought that the arch widened a few inches, the stones grinding. Angel was impressed, and gave Eroch a nod of approval.

The dragon all but leapt into the archway, disappearing immediately, the black vista unchanging within. Angel pulled out his phone and waited.

A phone chirp and a text reply later;

Cian

Eroch is here.

Angel

Thank you. I'll message when to send him home.

He put his phone away and went to the stairs, heading down.

Martin, the butler, was in the foyer, waiting for him. "Sir, no signs of Council enforcers, though we are being watched. A home across the way has a camera pointed at the front door, and the same in the back, except pointed at the garden exit to the alley. Both cameras are new and weren't there yesterday."

"Thank you, Martin," Angel said. "Please send the cleaning staff home, give them time off, fully paid leave. I'm offering the same for you and the rest of the senior staff. I won't have you caught in the crossfire."

Martin nodded. "Wise choice, sir. I've already spoken to the senior staff about the recent troubles, and we'll be remaining but limiting our duties to inside the house. Will your guests be remaining here?"

The lovebirds were still abed, neither Jameson nor Rael were expected at work. Angel was not in the mood for teaching today so the wolves were getting an impromptu day off, and they were taking advantage.

"For now, they're in their room. I don't expect a move against me directly so soon. I don't want to provoke action against my staff, so advise them to stay away once they leave today until this situation is resolved."

"I will, sir."

"I'll be out until further notice, Martin. No need to wait up; I'll be back late."

"Of course, sir. I'll inform the staff of your wishes immediately." Martin said and turned smartly on his heel, heading at a sedate glide for the rear of the house and the staff rooms.

Angel waited until Martin was out of sight and headed back upstairs, going to the archway. He checked that his athame was in its scabbard under his shirt, and detoured to his room for his satchel, grabbing it from the bedside table. The bag held odds and ends for spellcraft, things he used for the more complicated workings when intuition and instinct needed a finer, more precise guide. Or if elementalist magic was called for. All practitioners could use all magic types, but affinities were aptly named—there was a huge difference between an elementalist using elemental magic and someone like Angel giving it a go. He could do it, but using tools and artifacts made it easier; they bridged the gaps left by affinities.

With everything he needed on his person, Angel returned to the arch and envisioned the Tower and Simeon beyond the arch. He stepped through, feeling weightless for the briefest of moments, and then he was standing in the vault.

Surrounded by Constantine Batiste's greatest treasures, Angel took a moment to look around, but nothing was out in the open, except for Isaac.

"Angie," Isaac said, grinning. "Right on time. Anything happen while you were gone?"

"Milly's place was breached earlier. Enforcer casualties."

"Nice. Hopefully that'll give them pause about breaking and entering in the future, but I doubt it. How's Eroch?"

"At the Mansion with Daniel and the twins for the day. He needs the room."

Isaac led the way out of the vault and shut it behind them, locking it. "He might need to move to the Mansion full-time if he gets any bigger with this growth spurt."

"That's what I'm worried about," Angel said with a faint grimace. "I want him with me since he is a child, but his growth is directly tied to the power I feed him. I'm worried he's gonna grow too fast. He is meant to be sharing a nest with numerous siblings. He's got an undiluted power source feeding his growth instead of sharing the power. I'm worried he might outpace what's healthy, even for a dragon."

Isaac stopped them in the hallway. "How worried are you about that? Rory might have an answer."

"I'll ask Rory about Eroch if he's got more than growing pains. But if his health is in danger we'll need to sort out some solutions."

Angel and Isaac made it to the living room, and Angel went straight to his mate, who was seated on the couch speaking to Constantine, who sat in the gothic throne at the head of the room.

"Mo ghra, you came," Simeon held out a hand in welcome, and Angel took it and sat beside his mate.

"Nothing to do at home except wait for the Council to attack," Angel said dryly. "Eroch is at the Mansion with Daniel and the twins. I left the lovebirds alone. I am adrift today, aimless and bored."

"Uh-oh," Isaac joked, and he sat on Constantine's lap, making Angel roll his eyes. "Angel bored is almost as dangerous as the Council or a rambunctious baby dragon. Gird your loins."

"Stuff it," Angel sniped back, making Isaac laugh. He flipped off his brother, who returned the favor. "Got anything you need help with?"

"We fear the Council is attempting to sabotage our feeding practices. Contracted donors are reneging on their contracts or are disappearing. And only for fledglings' donors, none of our long-term donors are acting strangely." Simeon shared with him, pulling Angel under his arm and along his side, snug and secure, exactly how he liked it.

"Messing with your food supply is a perennial favorite of the Council," Angel said. Isaac appeared worried, looking between Angel and Constantine. "Any donors for the fledglings who weren't scared off? Who came in and worked like they were meant to?"

"Ellora would know," Constans said, shifting Isaac on his lap to dig out his phone.

"Which fledglings?" Angel asked.

"The last group we Turned several months back. We won't be Turning any more for a few years, unless accidents or injuries occur, like what happened with Miguel."

Miguel was formerly a human security manager at the Tower who suffered mortal injuries fighting a blood mage's golem months ago. That same blood mage tried to sabotage the synthetic blood that the clan used to supplement their live feedings from donors. In the course of the attack, Miguel had been mortally wounded, and per his wishes in his employment contract, was Turned by Batiste. Miguel had recovered and was back at work, switching from daytime to nighttime hours and retaining his job.

"What about Miguel's donor?" Angel asked, a niggling doubt rising up.

Constans looked up from his phone, frowning. "Miguel had a human lover at the time of his Turning that volunteered to be his donor. He passed the background check. Neither has come forward with any issues since the contract was signed after Miguel was Turned."

"Has anyone checked on them?"

"They live two floors below—let's go check on them ourselves." Simeon stood, helping Angel to his feet. "It's late afternoon—Miguel should be easy to rouse, even if it's a bit early for him. I'll do the waking in case he gets…grumpy."

"Good idea."

The Tower was quiet—for vampires it was dreadfully early. For the humans that worked in the Tower and lived there, they tended to keep the same hours, except for security and the 24/7 concierge services. The casino and restaurants in the lower levels ran continuously, unless an emergency shut them down. But for the most part, late afternoons were the equivalent of pre-dawn hours for vampires, and no one enjoyed being woken early for a discussion.

Simeon knocked on the door of Miguel's suite, waiting patiently. He heard movement within, a soft murmur of voices, and waited for Miguel to get himself together. There was a heartbeat within the suite—most likely the human lover who stayed through Miguel's Turning into one of the sentient undead. Miguel was lucky—most relationships failed when one partner went through an emergency Turning. Promises meant nothing when faced with a changed body, supernatural powers, and eternity.

Miguel came to the door of the suite and opened it, nodding to Simeon in hello, slightly worried. Simeon never came to his rooms, so the worry was understandable. Miguel was shirtless, wearing pajama bottoms, and barefoot, hair disheveled.

"Elder? Can I help you with something?"

Angel moved up next to Simeon. Miguel's eyes went wide, and he blinked at Angel in surprise. Angel never really inserted himself into Tower business unless it touched on his family, preferring not to interfere. It was a division that was rare in mated vampire pairs, but worked for them—Angel had plenty of concerns of his own, and he had no interest in pulling Simeon away from his duties.

"Necromancer Salvatore, hello," Miguel said. "Is something wrong?"

Angel gave him a small smile, curious eyes examining what he could see of Miguel through the partially open door.

"Forgive the early-hour intrusion," Simeon said. "We need to speak to you and your donor, if they're here."

"Sawyer is here," Miguel said, opening the door farther. "Come in."

"Thank you," Simeon said, and he went in first, checking the immediate area before gesturing for Angel to join him. His mate slipped inside the apartment, and Simeon sensed Angel looking with more than just his human eyes.

Miguel disappeared deeper into the suite, and Simeon did his best not to eavesdrop on the conversation Miguel had with his lover before both men returned to the sitting room. Where Miguel was tall and dark-haired, broad of shoulders, thick with muscle and covered in military-themed tattoos on a burnished gold canvas, Sawyer was a slim, lean young man with pale skin that shined like pearls and golden hair that was nearly a match for Daniel's new locks. They were a beautiful contrast, Miguel and Sawyer, and Simeon saw the appeal immediately on Miguel's part. There was a glimmer of something about Sawyer, something that stirred the wilder nature of the predator within all vampires.

That glimmer was compounded by the fresh bite mark on Sawyer's neck, revealed by the loose shirt that hung off one shoulder, baring his neck and collarbone. Miguel was freshly fed, sated in more ways than one.

"What's going on?" Sawyer asked, nervous, eyes darting back and forth between Simeon and Angel. Miguel stood at his side, one hand on his lower back.

Simeon looked to Angel, who wore a tight expression. Simeon knew then that they had almost been too late.

"Sawyer, have a seat on the couch for a minute, please," Simeon ordered the blood donor. Sawyer's eyes went wide and he sat so fast he almost tripped himself.

"What's wrong?" Miguel demanded, moving a few steps, but Simeon held up a hand, stopping Miguel.

"Sawyer has poisoned you," Angel said, the words dropping like stones into a still pond. Sawyer's face went blank and he bit his lower lip, guilt washing over him in a wave so pungent that Simeon could smell it from the doorway.

As did Miguel.

"What did you do, Sawyer?" Miguel asked, sounding heartbroken. Simeon went to Miguel, and put one hand on his shoulder, sending out a tendril of power to the fledgling. Miguel calmed outwardly, but inside Simeon sensed the turmoil he was feeling.

"Blood magic poisoning," Angel said, setting down his satchel on the coffee table. He put his hands on his hips and eyed the young blood donor. "Did you know what they were doing when they paid you to come back?"

"How…" Sawyer stammered, eyes wide. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"There's a spell in his blood," Angel gestured to Sawyer, ignoring his denial as he spoke to Simeon. Angel sent Miguel a sympathetic glance. "It's fresh, less than three hours, set sometime this morning. He probably drank a potion."

"Who paid him?" Miguel asked, face closed off but for the pain in his eyes and in the lines around his mouth.

"No one! I don't know what you're talking about!" Sawyer declared, lying through his teeth. His heartbeat told the truth.

"Shut it," Angel snapped, and Sawyer did just that, sulking on the couch.

Angel turned to Miguel and eyed him carefully, likely using his inner vision.

Simeon could sense nothing, but then blood magic was insidious—he would only know it by taste, as Batiste had shared the memory of it with the clan…before Miguel was Turned.

Miguel did not know the taste of blood magic.

"He's been poisoned," Angel confirmed Simeon's unspoken suspicion.

"Wouldn't I have noticed?" Miguel asked, eyes wide in disbelief.

"You're only a few months old," Simeon reminded him. "And you were Turned after the clan learned the taste of blood magic. You never learned—an oversight on our part. I am sorry."

Simeon would need to check with the other fledglings to make sure they learned the taste of it as well.

"This magic is diluted," Angel shared, squinting a bit as he stared in the area of Miguel's chest. "Frequent feeding would cause the spell to build up, and then reach a critical mass and activate."

"And do what?" Miguel asked. "Kill me?"

"For sure, but not until after driving you mad." Angel paused, his face pale, leached of all color. "I've seen a version of this spell before."

A cold sensation creeped over Simeon. "Can you help him?"

"I only fed once, and briefly," Miguel added, avoiding looking at his lover seated on the couch. Simeon couldn't imagine the betrayal Miguel was feeling.

"I can burn it out of him," Angel said, making both Simeon and Miguel sag in relief. "Call Batiste and do what you need to for this one," Angel gestured to Sawyer on the couch. "And alert them to check on all donors who came in from outside the Tower in the last forty-eight hours. Not just those for the fledglings, but have them start there."

Simeon pulled out his phone and was dialing Batiste before Angel finished speaking. Miguel shook his head once and went into his room, coming back with his phone in hand, dialing security, misery pouring off him in waves.