Page 22 of Never Run from an Immortal

Already regretting my decision, he told Baelin as he followed Rae out into the city, his Ascendant’s quiet laughter the only response.

Chapter eleven

“Everything is ready, my lord,” Shaw announced from just outside Aidan’s study. A ceremony seemed like an entirely ridiculous idea given the circumstances, but as Baelin had put it, they needed to sell this to the council or Rae would be an even greater target.

He shrugged an arm into his jacket and ran a hand through damp hair, fingers raking through a few loose knots. His uncle had always tried to shove him into suits growing up, each time with the intention of making a spectacle of him. His uncle’s bastard ward, the staff would whisper. Aidan didn’t care. He didn’t care for suits either. This black jacket and open shirt was the closest he’d ever come in the years since his uncle’s death.

“Let’s get this over with,” he told Quinn, the daemon dog stretching on his forelegs as if Vampire business was of absolutely no interest to him. Had it not been for Baelin, Aidan suspected it wouldn’t be.

The study door swung open, his Ascendant’s amber eyes shining with mischief. Aidan had rules about using his abilities on any member of his team without their consent, principles he’d created for himself after years of watching his uncle treat those around him like less than nothing. But moments like this had him wishing he hadn’t.

“You’re going to have your hands full with this one,” Baelin said a little too gleefully, but Aidan didn’t bite. He wasn’t interested in his Ascendant’s opinion of Rae, though he knew Baelin wouldn’t hesitate in sharing it. “I like her,” he added as Quinn padded to his side, the dog’s head almost touching his hip.

Aidan didn’t need Baelin’s approval of his soon-to-be wife; the ceremony was likely just as meaningless to Rae as it was to him, but it would be easier this way. His Ascendant rarely kept his opinions to himself, but he rarely elaborated on them either, which had always made Aidan more inclined to believe them.

Baelin was many things, but his concision was something Aidan had always particularly enjoyed over the years. Too many Vampires loved the sound of their own voices and prattled endlessly with whatever nonsense opinions they had, but not Baelin.

Aidan thought of the five Providents Omnia had most recently taken down, and though none of them would be missed, the violence was only stoking the embers of a fire that could be too difficult to put out without significant losses on all sides. Without significant damage to the city. That was part of the reason why this made sense. So he could keep a close eye on Rae’s plans, to study her. Knowing his opponent was one of the only decent lessons his uncle had ever taught him.

They made their way down dark corridors, past the natatorium to the rarely used glasshouse at the rear of the manor. Many had questioned why the Lord’s manor had a roommade entirely of glass given the dangers of sunlight for their kind, but Aidan had hidden there many times as a boy to watch the sunset over the manor gardens. He would slip into a shaft of dusky light when no one else was around to notice him, until his uncle ultimately had, and Aidan’s visits to the glasshouse had ended.

That particular lesson was one he took no joy in recalling. Even now he could smell the stench of his uncle’s blistering flesh, feel the force of knuckles meeting bone. Another handful of scars had been added to Aidan’s collection that day.

Barely a few hours had passed since Rae agreed to this farce, most of which she’d spent pacing her new room, a mix of trepidation, frustration, and doubt tumbling from her, settling over everything she touched. A gown had been delivered to the manor for her at Aidan’s request, to maintain the pretence with the council, and because even he wasn’t asshole enough to make her go through with a fake marriage dressed in the blood-stained clothes he’d picked her up in.

He followed Baelin into the glasshouse, string lights reflecting off the windows and illuminating every plant in a soft glow. Shaw’s handiwork, Aidan knew. The Somniator had been desperate to throw a party for years, and Aidan almost felt guilty that this one was fake. A water feature concealed by fern fronds trickled melodically beside a wrought iron archway long since covered in ivy and flowers, marking the centre of the glasshouse and where Baelin took up his position. His Ascendant was officiating, First Unit and Shaw acting as witnesses. All of them, except for Shaw, knew the marriage was a sham; only Baelin knew the reason why.

In the manor grounds, units Two and Four remained on alert, just as a precaution. Aidan was taking no chances with Rae, and the moments leading up to their union were the ones anyone vying for his position were most likely to strike. Thoughthe manor was so well warded, the grounds were virtually impenetrable. Still, Aidan saw no use in testing that theory tonight.

Orion, Beck, Roak, and Evander made up his First Unit, the first of the Vampires he and Baelin had handpicked when Aidan had taken his uncle’s position. The brothers, Roak and Evander, stood beside Beck; Orion had been stationed outside Rae’s room since she’d arrived. Aidan swept his gaze over the other three, but even the weakest of Providents would have been able to detect the desperation leaking from one of them. But then—not desperation. Hunger. And somehow the Vampire had felt that meant it was a good idea to be close to the human who was about thirty seconds from walking into the glasshouse.

Possessiveness flared in Aidan, and he had half a mind to make an example of Beck. Of the four, he knew the Vampire least but had followed Baelin’s recommendation to allow him onto the unit.

Roak, get Beck out of here. Now, Aidan commanded. There was no way in Hel he was going to allow a half-starved Vampire near the only shot he had at getting his magic back.

Silence fell over them all until Roak returned, shooting an apologetic look in Aidan’s direction, though he was in no way responsible for his teammate.

“At ease, boys. It’s a wedding, not a funeral. Unless you all know something I don’t.” Aidan turned at the sound of Rae’s voice, his eyes falling to where her arm hooked through Orion’s. She wore the gown he’d ordered for her, that strange possessive spark flaring in his chest again as the leader of his First Unit led her closer.

The floor-length gown, the colour of molten silver, hugged her curves and pooled around her feet like liquid. She’d left her hair loose, a shade of green so dark it was almost black, soft curls falling over her shoulders and tumbling down her back, her eyesthe colour of the moss lining the pond beside them. Bracelets still adorned her wrists, the silver clip across the bridge of her nose, the cuff at her bicep. At least she had a head on her. There were at least twenty different Vampires on and around the compound each night, and she was smart enough to give herself a layer of protection.

Roak and Evander chuckled at her quip, silence falling over the glasshouse as Orion stepped up beside them. Shaw stood to one side, a PAD in his hands, snapping photos with fervour. For the council, Aidan had advised him, but the old Vampire seemed to be enjoying himself far too much.

Rae stood before him at the centre of the arch, hands clasped loosely at her front, her stance relaxed, twisting the ring at her thumb with a finger. Though she hid it well, to a Provident, her anger was palpable. Her disgust at what she was about to do. Aidan echoed the sentiment. But beneath Rae’s ire, there was concern. Fear. Just a hint of it coating the air between them.

He could end this now. Take what he needed. Have Orion take her to one of the human hospitals afterwards, because little of her mind would be left once Aidan was finished with her. But he refused to become what he had loathed for so long.

“This is the part where you tell me how beautiful I look,” Rae said as her gaze swept over him, assessing. Always assessing.

Aidan waited until her eyes met his. “You look beautiful,” he told her, realising with a flash of irritation that he meant it.

Baelin cleared his throat beside them, and they both turned to face the Ascendant. “Our Order is fond of tradition, of repeating mindless tasks merely because some wrinkly elder told them it was a good idea.” Beside Aidan, Rae arched an eyebrow. “But some traditions rise above all of that. And this one, no matter how false it may seem, has always been my favourite.” Aidan glared at his Ascendant for his choice of words. Shaw was most likely recording this, and Baelin never missed an opportunity topoke fun at the council, yet the latter part of his statement had been the truth. Sentimental old fool. “This blessed union is an end and a beginning all wrapped into one. A time for promises, for declarations, for sacred vows to be exchanged between the two of you, and above all, upheld. Do you understand?”

Cut the theatrics,he told his Ascendant. Baelin merely smiled, waiting for Aidan’s nod of affirmation before turning to Rae.

“Yes,” she said firmly beside him. Her heartbeat picked up for a moment, but her proximity to six vampires and her sheer determination must have slowed it, because Aidan barely had time to register the sound before it returned to normal.

Baelin instructed them to take each other’s hands as he uttered words for them to repeat to each other. Then he handed over two chalices from the small table at his side, passing one to each of them. “Tradition dictates the new couple embark on their union by drinking the blood of our ancestors, to offer it to their partner in turn as a symbol of their service to each other,” he explained as Rae’s pupils dilated, fingers tightening around the stem of her chalice.

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