Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

J acob strode down the island beach. His lady was walking barefoot in the sand, her shoes clasped in her grip as she gazed out at the waves. The memorial for Mal and Elisa had been attended by every Council member, as well as countless others. Knowing what a pain in the ass his stubbornness often caused, Mal would have been amused by the honor. And annoyed, at having so many here to interfere with the sanctuary's daily operations.

Ruth and Adan had stood together before the sculpture of his parents they'd placed a few feet from their grave markers. Evan, the vampire Lord Uthe had sired and who'd become an accomplished artist, had done it. He'd liked coming here to create. Many had found peace and inspiration in the sanctuary Mal had created.

Evan's preferred medium was canvas, but the sculpture proved he was as accomplished with clay. He'd reflected the proud sternness of Mal's features and the strength of character in Elisa's. A mountain lion rested at their feet, Elisa leaning against Mal's side, his head bent toward hers.

One of the Circus members had sung a hymn Elisa favored, and the Native American staff members had followed it up with chants and drumming.

There'd been no speeches. Just the music and unveiling of the statue. Everyone had left something at the base, something that could be blown away in the wind or feed the wildlife without harm. Mal would have been pleased.

At the end, Lyssa had stepped up to the statue. She'd laid a hand on Mal's arm, and Elisa's. She'd bowed her head, and then she'd done something she rarely did, unleashing her Fae magic before an audience.

As the assembled murmured in quiet amazement, flowers grew around the base, curling vines populated with large white moonflowers.

Then the group dispersed. Some of those new to the sanctuary would visit the cats with the staff, because Ruth had made sure they could see what was done here. Like her father, she stayed cognizant of the funding sources that kept the island thriving.

She would be all right.

His lady on the other hand…

Jacob always paid closer attention to her after losses. Though the likelihood of her succumbing to Ennui was slim at this point, especially with him and Kane in her life, there was such a thing as a natural death, when a soul had simply had enough of loss and change, the wear and tear from a world that made the same mistakes, over and over again, never seeming to learn.

The vigilance to protect one's loved ones from that idiocy could take its toll.

Kane had stood between them during the memorial, his eyes alive with pain. Jacob had kept his hand on his son, a reassurance and reminder. There was nothing he could have done. He was off walking with Adan now, something Ruth had suggested.

As Jacob approached Lyssa on the beach, she spoke. Apparently she wasn't in a mood to be coddled. She preferred to threaten him. "So, this servants' council. You're one of the names they're considering to lead it. Parity, you know, with me as Council head."

"I think it should be Jessica." Jacob gave her an amused look. "Lord Mason proposed the document, after all. His servant would be trusted as its leader, and Jess can handle it. Dev can be a member. He straddles the line well between traditional and less traditional vampire-servant relationships. He understands what vampires can reasonably be asked to do or not do. It should also contain a couple servants not bound to Council members."

Lyssa's lips curved. "I notice you didn't propose your brother."

"With his gift for tact, and his controversial history as a vampire hunter, I don't think he makes the cut. Though I was briefly tempted to throw it out there, just to see his horror at the idea of having to attend regular meetings for…anything."

Jacob looked down the beach, where his brother was body surfing and trying to coax Daegan to come in. Like all vampires with their lack of buoyancy, Daegan was offering a less than enthusiastic response. Anwyn sat in the surf, though, enjoying the rush of it over her excellent legs.

You need to develop some near-sightedness if you want to stay out of trouble.

"You have the most beautiful legs in the universe, my lady. Hers are just…longer."

He laughed as Lyssa kicked water at him, but then he came close enough to stand at her side, nuzzling her hair. "My Mistress can always put out my eyes if that's her choice," he said, half-serious. "We old guard servants aren't likely to cede what we've already given to our vampires, no matter what the new ‘Hippiestock' committee proposes."

She touched his throat. As always, his pulse increased, making her even more aware of his blood. And his willingness to give it to her.

"Hippiestock? Did that come from Gideon?"

"Belizar. He surprised me. I figured his knowledge of history stopped at the Bolshevik revolution. He also surprised me when he backed you on the servant proposal."

"He's not immune to change. He just dislikes it intensely." She smiled. "But he's come to see what problems excessive certainty can cause. Stagnation, suppression of ideas that help us grow, adapt. Survive."

Her expression darkened. "I think he realized I wasn't proposing we become softer and gentler with this new law. Just the opposite. We protect our people, what the God and Goddess made us. Kaela has been loyal to me and our kind, and has fought for our people. I was prepared to defend her and Garron with far harsher means, if they'd pushed me to it. Belizar knows I would do the same for him, and for most of the Council members, when it is warranted."

"On that note…" Jacob dipped his head toward Gideon and Daegan again. "Daegan wants confirmation that you meant it. Exterminating the Trads. Gideon said it would overload his to-do list. He might need to hire additional ninjas."

Lyssa sighed. "I can say I'm still undecided, but that's because I couldn't kill Grollner more than once. You already know the answer, as does Daegan. I would not condemn an entire people to death for the acts of a group." She flashed fangs at her servant. "But I had no problem letting Grollner die with that certainty in his heart."

"There's the female I know and love."

He kissed her hand, and she curved her sharp nails against his cheek, a biting caress. They leaned together, looking at the surf together in silence.

"Love is the only rule between us. Isn't that from a song, or a book. Or both?"

"Thomas told me once that the messages that surface time and again in books, music, all sorts of creative expression, came from the universe first. They can't be stamped out. And when we hear those truths, understand and act upon them, I think the universe smiles. It likely needs those smiles as much as we do."

"Yeah. Maybe more." His blue eyes darkened. "We know loss. But this one has hit particularly fucking hard."

"Yes." Lyssa's expression became that of a concerned mother. One hurting for her child. "Kane thinks him being here, being a target as our son, resulted in this."

"Adan will help him." Jacob held her closer, brushing his lips against her dark hair. "He'll tell him what his father would have said. That Mal wouldn't have changed a thing. Evil doesn't need an excuse, and you can't stop living because it might use an opportunity."

"Yes." They walked together along the beach, and he held her hand. Here, where they'd often been able to be informal, she didn't mind that. He was glad. Jacob watched her bare feet move through the water, and nudged her a little to the left so she didn't step on a jagged-edged shell.

Lyssa looked up at him. Her jade eyes had gone just as sharp and painful. "It hurts me deeply, to know they are not here, Jacob."

"I know." She didn't let her pain show to many, the cost of it to her soul. He closed his arms around her again, held her. Let their hearts beat together. "Ruth will help us mend the tear. She doesn't openly acknowledge it, because she's doing her own grieving, but it's already there. She's her father's daughter. That whole tour thing, after the service."

A smile touched his voice. "Hanska says she's already secured commitments that will increase her quarterly donation projections by nine percent."

"She's her mother's daughter as well." Lyssa drew back. She was composed again, but he was still in her head, staying close. She embraced that intimacy, leaning against him as they walked onward. "I'm glad she has Merc now."

"Yeah. Didn't see that one coming."

The angel incubus had stood behind Ruth during the service. Catriona had stood by Adan's side. A united force that said as well as words the siblings would have formidable support going forward.

"We rarely do." Lyssa took both of his hands, the straps of her shoes over their fingers. She pedaled backwards, giving him a mischievous look that was almost girlish. And beautiful to him. "I was thinking about how Fates bring us together. About our first night together, when I met you at the Eldar. Your presumption that you would be my new servant. Your blue eyes and handsome body. Your earnestness."

As they circled one another, an informal dance in the current, she drew close enough to run her hands down his back, caressing his hips and buttocks. The girl disappeared, replaced by the siren. His temptress. Jacob cinched an arm around her waist.

"I was pretty sure you were going to kill me. Or at least maim me."

"It crossed my mind. But then… Something in you spoke to me, like the truth in those stories and songs. I felt it, knew something meant for us to walk forward together, at least for a little while. And then a little while became much longer."

"Forever, my lady. All eternity." He took down her hair, letting it tumble into his hands. "That's what I promised you. You promised me the same."

Her lips curved. "I did no such thing. Only for as long as you remain tolerable."

"I will always endeavor to please my lady."

She lifted onto her toes to bring her mouth to his. His arms were already tightening to help, the kiss taking them out over the waves, into the sky, and letting them feel the heat of a sun she might never see, but could feel within him.

Perhaps in the end, Lyssa thought, that was what the right servant was. The light and the heat that replaced the sun for a vampire, nourished and helped them see what darkness might keep from them.

She decided to hold that thought to herself. It was always best for a vampire to keep a servant humble, after all. Especially one she knew was the center of her universe.

He'd first crossed her path as her childhood bodyguard in Japan. Then as a knight during the Crusade. Finally, he'd been reborn in this form, forever bound to her soul. If she did share her thought with him, she knew from her head to her tingling toes, what his response would be. No hesitation.

Same goes, my lady. Always and forever.

Three weeks later, Ruth stood on a cliff overlooking the water. The vast, rolling ocean. She'd thought she knew every place on the island, but over the past few weeks she'd endeavored to explore every inch of the terrain, and discovered this new remote viewing perch. From here, she could see the rock formation where she'd waited for Merc's return and found Lord Mason.

The cat pendant at her throat vibrated with the energy that told her everything was tranquil today. As tranquil as an island inhabited by large predators could be. Including herself.

The night sky was full of stars. A smile crossed her face as a section of them blackened into a winged male shape. He was home. Merc landed next to her, his hands already on her waist and the side of her neck to claim the kiss he wanted. She pressed herself against him, opening up to him.

"You're home early."

"I'm able to help these other angels do things more quickly. Efficiently. No wasted time on diplomacy."

She chuckled. "So they're giving you the jobs that require simple speed and violence."

"It seems to be my preferred milieu. But some things I prefer to take my time for…"

His arms slid around her. She saw the silver glimmer of writing and symbols ripple across his forearm, then melt back into the skin. Praises to the Goddess, and protection and guidance for Her warriors. When he wished, they could remain visible. Marcellus had been the angel who awarded them to him, after Merc's first battle in the ranks of the Legion.

Her angel incubus. Who served the Goddess, but also served and cared for Ruth. She remembered the night she'd risen to find he'd taken care of things with the floor, just as he said he would. There was no evidence of violence in her family home. Only the energy vibrations of life itself, and lives well lived.

Tonight, after working at her father's desk on the paperwork that needed managing, she'd decided to leave all that and come here. As she passed through the door, she'd stopped, touching those knife marks Mal had created in his idle pastime of target practice. She'd returned to the desk and picked up Kohana's knife. There was energy there. Strength. She gripped the hilt where her father had gripped it so often, and felt as if she was holding his hand.

Give it time , Charlie had told her. When you first experience a terrible loss, that's where your mind lights. But over time, it moves to how they lived their lives, what they meant to you. Not how they died. And then…you start to feel other things.

All these weeks, she'd waited and hoped. Then let it go, knowing it would come in time. And it had.

She'd stood stock still, her heart beating in her ears.

She'd felt them.

The brush of a strong hand, the sense of a smile. The heart-crushing scent of her mother, the strength of her father surrounding her. His hand on her shoulder as he stood just behind her. As they both stood with her.

Tears had squeezed out of her eyes as she wrapped her arms around herself, her hands folding over her collarbone, as if she could overlap their fingers. She held the feeling to her. I love you both, so much. I love you.

She let herself think of the one memory worth holding onto from that terrible day. Her father had two tattoos he'd maintained throughout the years, using his blood to anchor the ink, as vampires had to do so it wasn't "healed" or reabsorbed. One was the lioness and feathers art around his biceps. The other was on his side, under his left arm, alongside his heart. The small flower had the same blue color as Elisa's eyes, and the bloom was bordered by two words. Adan. Ruth.

Elisa's fingertips had rested on that tattoo. Ruth had zero doubt her mother had intentionally reached for it in her last moment to leave a message for them.

We love you.

It was as she'd told Adan, hoping, wanting to believe, but now she was sure. Everything she did to protect this place, to keep it fulfilling the mission her father had created it for, would weave itself into that echo, making it ever stronger. They would always be here. Willingly. Just like herself.

Adan and her father's worry, about having someone to protect her, to help her, it would extend to the sanctuary's wellbeing too, because Merc loved the island as much as she did.

She'd put the beaded scabbard and that long knife on her belt, to wear it along her thigh. It made her feel balanced.

When it had happened, she knew Merc had seen all of that in her head. He let the beaded strands slide through his knuckles now as she removed the scabbard. At the look of kindled heat in his gaze, she removed her shirt. Then her jeans and the rest of her clothes, leaving them in a neat bundle. Putting her hands behind her back, she dipped her head down. Lowered her eyes.

I love you, Master.

His hands cradled her face, bringing it back up as he lowered his mouth to hers. She leaned against him. He'd taken to wearing his version of Legion wear a lot more often, the black battle skirt, plus an upper body harness loaded with his preferred dagger and a short sword. It was a good look for him. She slid her hands to his taut backside, digging her fingernails into it, her body tightening in anticipation.

"I didn't give you permission to touch me."

He spoke against her ear. Though she'd offered herself to him, and he gave them both pleasure, it was only in the past few days he'd let the Master in him aggressively respond to her again. The only times before then it had shown itself was when he wouldn't allow her to work or push herself too hard.

Maybe he'd known she wasn't ready for the vulnerability that came with bringing it into the intense sexual encounters they shared. But the other night, she'd proven she was more than ready.

During a spirited chase and sparring match, she'd called him some creative names. He'd decided to take offense, holding her over his lap while she struggled and snarled. She'd nearly climaxed from the stinging blows on her ass.

Ruth lifted her hands from him and stepped back. "Did you tell me that I could put my hands on myself?" She slid them along her throat, down to cup her breasts. Even lower, while he dropped to his heels, wings half spread as he watched her with heavy-lidded, heated eyes. "Because I do that quite often, thinking of your hands there instead. Wanting them there. You're away too much."

Which she didn't begrudge him, at all. They both had things they had to do. But she had no trouble using it to tease him like this.

"Perhaps I'll punish you by telling you that every time I take your body for the next few days, the only contact you'll have is my cock driving into your cunt. I will not touch you otherwise. Will not kiss you. I will tell you to touch yourself, command it. Teach you that you can have your hands or mine. You cannot have both."

Her hands stilled, and slowly she removed them, held them out to either side of herself. "I need your touch," she said, her voice throaty. "More than I need pleasure itself."

Merc rose and came to her, sliding his hands to her hips, her backside, lifting her up as she wrapped her legs around him. When she grimaced at the bruising grip of his fingers on her buttocks, he bared his fangs at her. "There are advantages to having a vampire who doesn't heal as fast. You remember your lessons far better."

She would have stuck her tongue out at him now, defying him to do it again, but he captured her mouth, played his tongue around her own, creating more pleasure. She gripped his shoulders, the firm flesh, the heat of him. She needed more of him than she thought anyone could give.

I will prove you wrong, Ruth. As many times as needed for you to learn that lesson, too. Even if we have to fight about it.

Feeling that wicked smile inside him, she responded in kind.