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We elevate few of humankind to our immortal state. Annatoly Constantine, a eunuch brutalized and forced to earthly service, proved himself worthy and courageous. We have loved him and he has devoted himself unceasingly, unselfishly to our service as Protector and Mentor of the Gios. We would gift him with that prized above all else, a partner to love him as devotedly and unselfishly as he has given of himself to us. One worthy to stand by his side for all eternity...
——Rahuael, First Chronicler, Viadine Secretorum
* * *
CARNE AWOKE TO FIND himself alone. A suit of clothing had been laid out for him. Black tails, pristine white shirt, polished black leather shoes. And a pair of white gloves. Was this to be the last morning that he would awaken in his own body? He’d certainly taken the night before to learn Fabienne’s body minutely. He would not, to some extent, be a stranger traversing a strange land. Or there was always the possibility he could wind up dead with no need to worry about the complications of inhabiting the body of a man he was so intimately acquainted with.
The door was opened by a servant, he entered carrying a tray with breakfast laid out upon it. Annatoly followed the man in and then dismissed him.
“I hope you slept well?” Annatoly asked politely.
Carne sat at the table where the food had been laid out, unfolded the white linen napkin and carefully spread it across his lap. He glanced up at Annatoly. “I passed the night quite...satisfactorily. As I expect you already know.” He and Fabienne had not slept at all until the skies were just beginning to lighten.
“Yes, I expect you did.” Annatoly sat across from Carne and studied him.
“You could have joined us, dammit,” Carne couldn’t help saying.
“No, I couldn’t. And you know why.”
Yes, he knew. Viadine duty before personal gratification. But at least he had a better understanding of why Annatoly felt the way he did.
“Damn you, Annatoly. Do you allow yourself to feel nothing? How can you? How can you seem to nullify what we’ve shared? I know it has to mean something.” If he hadn’t been looking so intently at Annatoly, he might have missed it. But he didn’t. One scant flicker of emotion flashed across his face. And then it was gone. He wasn’t as unaffected as he tried to pretend. For now, that had to be enough to sustain him. Annatoly did love him, he was just afraid to show it. But that was going to change.
“You won’t see Fabienne again until the ceremony. Tonight there will be a banquet, then you will engage in meditative preparation for the next twenty-four hours. This will prepare you adequately for the transfer. Fabienne will remain in solitary meditation away from the castle until the hour of the transformation.
Carne felt suddenly off kilter. He wouldn’t even have the opportunity to say goodbye, in case it came down to his life or Fabienne’s.
“You’ll see him again.” Annatoly reached out to clasp Carne’s hand. Carne squeezed his fingers, taking comfort in the strong firm grip.
“I also will tell you that Dandrae has chosen to serve me and I have accepted his oath of allegiance.”
So that’s where he’d been last night. With Dandrae. He tamped down that twinge of jealousy that tried to gain control of him. Having been with Fabienne, he didn’t have the right to question whose arms Annatoly found some measure of comfort in.
“Oath of allegiance? I’ve never heard that term before. What are you going to do to him?” Dandrae, his one-time lover. So many thoughts and emotions clashed together inside him. Carne had never really been in love with Dandrae, not the way he cared for Annatoly or Fabienne, but he still cared enough to want to see him safe.
“It means he’s chosen to serve me and the Viadine. I’ve cleansed his blood. He’s finally gained the immortality which he’s sought. But unlike you—unlike Fabienne—his ability to remain immortal lies in his blood allegiance to me.”
“But isn’t that what Fabienne has been? Hasn’t your blood kept him alive? Haven’t you bound him to you that same way?”
“Yes, but once the transfer is complete he’ll be free of me. The blood that Fabienne will ingest comes directly from the Nightingale Gios. In a sense he’ll be tied to each of them. As in a sense you will be. No one member will have complete dominion of another. You and Fabienne will be linked. In the ceremony you’ll each be drained to the point of death—similar to what I needed to do for Dandrae. But instead of one immortal replenishing you with his own blood, you will each be...infused...with a special mixture, similar to the small amounts that Fabienne has ingested, but this time it will entail complete transformation.”
“Will we require blood to maintain our existence?”
“You aren’t vampires. You won’t die, nor be reborn from death. Your souls are intact.”
“So something else entirely. And Dandrae?”
“He’s ingested my undiluted blood; his transformation is different. He’ll require more of my blood, and mine alone, if he wishes to survive. The Viadine have no part in his immortality, but they will in yours.”
“So he’s basically a slave that lives upon your whim.”
“If you wish. He was given a choice. I would have sent him on his way, free of us.”
“To end up in the Diadune’s hands? What choice is that?”
Annatoly shrugged. “He made his choice back in Venice, didn’t he?”
“Still, his option was slavery to the others, or slavery to you. Or death.”
“Destiny offers us several paths, none are free. We each choose. As you did. Your destiny brought you here—to Fabienne. Yours and Fabienne’s fates are intertwined. You could have chosen the path your forebears took, and ended up dead. But yours has been the higher path and you and your line have reached the point of metamorphosis. The others feared too much what they didn’t understand and made a cycle of mistakes time and time again. Only you have broken the pattern.”
“And Dandrae?”
“What happens to him is yet to be determined.”
“And you want him?”
“He is...challenging. It pleases me to give him what he most desires.” He leaned forward and kissed Carne. “Dearest, there’s no need for you to be jealous. In this house there can only be love.”
What could Carne say to that? He’d wanted Dandrae to be given a chance of salvation and Annatoly had granted his request.
Annatoly got to his feet. “Rest today. Someone will come for you at ten o’clock this evening.”
“You’re confining me to this room?”
“Hardly. You can do as you like. But you will not find Fabienne. As I said, he is in seclusion until tomorrow night.”
Carne reached out for Annatoly. “Stay with me, Maître.”
Something sad flickered across Annatoly’s expression. “The passion of men has never been for me, dearest. That was taken from me long ago. I receive some element of pleasure from the taking of your blood, but there’s nothing more I can give you now.”
Carne rose to his feet and came up against Annatoly. “Do you think a cock is all there is to pleasure, Annatoly?” He slipped a hand inside his shirt and flicked a taut nipple. “There’s so much more. And I want to show you. Come to bed with me. Now, before it all changes. Let me give you at least some of what you’ve given me.”
He saw Annatoly hesitate. He saw something else flicker across his expression, some spark of yearning.
“Annatoly,” Carne said, as he pressed even closer. More than anyone else in this house, Annatoly needed to be shown that he was desired, that he was deserving of love. “Let me show you, dear Annatoly. Let me show you what more there is between us.”
For one second, Carne thought Annatoly would yield. “No,” he said as he pulled back, putting distance between himself and Carne. “I have nothing to give you, nothing.” He spun on his heel and strode out the door.
Carne walked over to the window and stared out at the gardens. Annatoly, strong, beautiful, and giving, was afraid to acknowledge love on a personal level. He was afraid to accept that he was desirable. How very deep the wound to his manhood had gone and had no one in all these long centuries seen it, or tried to heal him? My God, how alone he was. It almost made Carne want to weep.
And then there was Fabienne. Beautiful and passionate, driven to seek revenge. In all these years had he been so absorbed by the desire for vengeance, he’d not seen the most beautiful gift he had right here in this castle? In a few hours, Carne would be seeing everything through his eyes and he would not allow himself to forget Annatoly.
Fabienne’s room. These were his things. Carne cupped his genitals. They were body parts he was familiar with. His cock. His scrotum. Fully intact. Precious is what Fabienne called them last night. But soon Carne would not have his balls, he wouldn’t have his voice. He’d never be able to speak above a whisper. He expected there would be other changes as well. Even if Carne had a mind to, he could never father a child. And Fabienne’s soul would reside inside this body that he now inhabited.
But Fabienne’s soul would bring more to his body. Fabienne would infuse it with a castrato’s soul, a castrato’s musical brilliance forged with suffering, bound with celestial magnificence. It was a shell, a vehicle to carry him to heights that Carne could only ever imagine. He could give this to him. Only Carne could do that. And in the process cleanse the blood of his own ancestral line.
And perhaps, when it was finished, Annatoly would be waiting. And maybe once the sacrifice had been made and the exchanged completed, he could show Annatoly that he wasn’t alone.
He saw movement down in the garden and leaned forward to peer closer. Tall, ghostly hooded figures gathered in a circle. Each held a candle, each looked as though they were surrounded by an aura of silvery light. And then Carne heard the music, stunning notes rising into the air, the music of angels—earthly angels. And tears came to Carne’s eyes.
Yes, this was worth it. Any sacrifice was worth knowing that Fabienne would join the celestial ranks of those Carne now heard. All the day they sang. As Carne dressed the chorus grew louder. As he opened his door to leave the room, to descend to the banquet, only then was the music silenced. And it left him with an unbearable feeling of sadness and loss. He quickly descended the stairs eager for the ceremony to begin. The music was worth everything and so much more.
* * *
FABIENNE WAITED. ALONE. Naked. He had been escorted here by members of the gios. It was a free-standing stone structure called Apollo’s Temple, located within a forest of trees at the farthest corner of the property. A perfect location for seclusion. Viadine sentries had been stationed around the perimeter just in case the Diadune or their ghouls tried to get at Fabienne.
Steam from the baths billowed up to surround him, to stroke at his flesh. He sat cross-legged, eyes closed, thinking...of Carne. Of Annatoly. Thinking of his love for them. Remembering how it felt to be fucked by Carne. One night was all they had together. Two souls that touched and merged. Music and words melded together. Composer and singer with one purpose. They talked and made love, made love and talked. Of pasts, of presents, but not of the future. Neither of them had an inkling of how things might change.
He inhaled the fragrant scent of the steamy room, drawing it deep into his lungs. This was the end, but it was also the beginning. He heard them singing. Outside in the garden. He yearned to join them, was eager to finally take his place among them.
He remembered wanting to die so long ago when Annatoly had saved him. Promised Fabienne revenge. Promised that one day Fabienne would have his voice back. That he would sing again. He just had to have patience.
But what Annatoly hadn’t told Fabienne was that he was going to have to sacrifice something else in that dark bargain. He was going to have to sacrifice love. Having lived all these centuries without it, with that hunger only for revenge, he didn’t know if he could go through with it. He yearned to sing with them, to be more than he was right now. But he didn’t think he was strong enough to let Carne sacrifice himself.
Carne had no idea what it was to live as a eunuch. The pain of being thought of as less than a man. Always alone and in shadow. Separate and apart. He wouldn’t have that knowledge that his voice was worth any sacrifice. Because he wouldn’t have that either. He would have nothing to save him from utter and complete darkness. And it wouldn’t be for a human life span; it would be eternity. He would live with it for eternity.
Fabienne traced the scars across his chest. He remembered Carlo, but the rage and anger he’d kept close for so many years had dissipated. Carne had healed him with his passion and his beautiful soul. How could he do this to him? There had to be another way.
“There is none.”
Fabienne opened his eyes and saw Annatoly in a ghostly light on the other side of the reflecting pool.
“There has to be. I can’t sacrifice him. We have to wait for someone else. Find someone who will be a satisfactory substitute. You can’t possibly want this for him. You love him as well.”
“There is no more time,” Annatoly said. “And there is no one else. He was always meant to be the one. It is his destiny. You just needed time to realize it and to acknowledge it.”
“You mean his fate. Of all of us, he’s the only one who is truly pure. He’d never been consumed with the thirst for revenge. He doesn’t belong here. We—I can’t do this to him.”
“That’s exactly the reason he has to be the one. His destiny and yours have always been linked together. It was just a question of waiting for him to be born. The seventh son. Remember? Forgiveness and Absolution. To give and to receive. Balance. And the circle is complete.”
“He doesn’t deserve this. He deserves to have a life.”
“He’s already been marked for you. The phratry gave him their protection and they don’t do that lightly. They wouldn’t do it for just any man—for any mortal. But for him, not even one born to the celestial, they revealed themselves. What has been started cannot be altered.”
Fabienne knew he was right. There were things at work far more powerful than he was.
“I want to see him. Be with him until there’s no other course. I want the three of us to be together. There hasn’t been enough time.”
“No. They’ve begun to arrive and you cannot change that. You’ll still be together. In fact, once the exchange has taken place, nothing can ever separate you.”
“But it won’t be the same. The innocence will be lost. The human factor forever displaced.”
“By a greater purpose, a larger destiny will be born.”
“Tell me, Annatoly, has being a part of this greater purpose made you happy?”
“Happiness comes in many forms. They gave me a reason to continue. And that has made me content.”
“You’ve survived for fourteen hundred years. Is that all there is? You don’t experience physical love. You’ve lived with the pain of what they did to you for fourteen hundred years.” Fabienne didn’t think he was strong enough to have ever been able to have endured what Annatoly had survived. Not with his dignity intact.
“I’ve found my place. And now I’ve been rewarded for my patience.”
“In what way?”
“I have a companion in Dandrae. With him, I’ll find a measure of contentment.”
“You expect him to take our place, tutor him, to bring out the best in him. You’re content with that. But you don’t love him, Annatoly. Not the way you need Carne. You don’t have to settle. I saw it in you when you returned from Paris. That hunger was never more evident. But you’re afraid to take it. Is this yet just another sacrifice on your part? Or is it more that you’re afraid to reach for more. Is that it Annatoly? Do you think you’re not worthy?”
“Silence! There’s nothing more to be said, nothing more to be done. You’ve waited centuries for this moment. Don’t fight what’s meant to be. This is your destiny, you have no right to throw it away.” Fabienne had never seen Annatoly lose control like that. His eyes burned with a fire that took Fabienne’s breath away. And then that light dimmed and Annatoly heaved a heavy sigh. “Carne was never meant for me,” he finished softly.
And then Annatoly was consumed by the misty atmosphere as he stepped away, and Fabienne knew he was alone once more. Alone with his thoughts, his memories, his uneasy reflection.
He inhaled the steam, tried to concentrate, tried to think of other things, to settle. To accept what was about to occur. And then he felt himself floating, carried away from his body into some other place. And he saw Carne in all his beauty. Two souls freed from their bodies. Meeting in a sacred place, away from the others.
Carne lifted a hand to Fabienne’s face. “Don’t fight it. This is what I want.”
“How did you know I needed to see you?”
Carne smiled. “You and I are already bound. I didn’t understand, not until this moment.”
“Where are you? I know you’re not here with me.”
“In meditation seclusion. They surround me, they hold me. I am in their arms. The Viadine and the Gios together. For just this moment my soul is free to come to you. To soothe your fears. I want this, Fabienne. More than I’ve ever wanted anything before. Don’t deny me.”
“Kiss me,” Fabienne said. He needed this man desperately. He needed his comfort, his strength.
“Yes, my love.” Carne framed Fabienne’s face and then leaned forward to brush his lips against Fabienne’s. It wasn’t a deep and burning kiss. It was chaste as kisses went, but Fabienne felt it to his very soul, and it infused him with strength. A bright light flared to life around them, blinding him with its intensity.
He opened his eyes when Carne broke the kiss. Fabienne saw through him like a ghost.
“No. Don’t leave me,” Fabienne cried out.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Carne said and then he vanished completely.
A hand settled on Fabienne’s shoulder. “Carne.” He whipped around, but the man standing behind him was not Carne.
“Fabienne, it’s time to prepare. They’re waiting.”
Fabienne left the steam baths. He was attended by members of the gios who dried him, oiled and massaged his flesh, reverently and carefully removed every speck of hair from his body, shaved his head, then helped him dress. He exited the temple, stepping out into the cool night. Two of the gios carried torches to light the way. The sentries trailed behind them.
The moon was full, shining down brightly, as Fabienne made his way to the chapel housed near the castle. He could already hear them singing, welcoming him into the brotherhood, attempting to sooth his fears.
Would he always bear these regrets? He had a feeling he’d never forgive himself for what he was about to do. And he had a fear Carne wouldn’t be able to forgive him either.
He was in deep thought, about to enter the chapel when he heard a cry from behind him. One of the sentries folded to the ground, blood flowing from a head wound. Diadune ghouls materialized out of the mist. Just as Fabienne was about to turn, he was grabbed from behind.
Chaos erupted.
“To Fabienne!” He heard the calls for help echoing around him.
Diadune!
He heard shouts, but his mind turned to his own struggle as he wrenched around to confront his attacker.
His adversary moved quickly, a shadow in the darkness. He saw a flash. The glitter of a deadly stiletto clutched in a man’s hand even as Fabienne was driven to the ground. He felt the prick of the knife point at his neck and shades of the past surged to the forefront. He fought for his life. And then it was gone as something swooped in and drove the attacker away. Fabienne rolled swiftly to his feet.
It was Dandrae who held the man at bay, giving Fabienne precious time to recover himself. And then, before he could move, the man had thrown Dandrae off, and lunged toward Fabienne once again. Dandrae threw himself like a shield in front of Fabienne. Fabienne tried to push him aside.
The deadly knife swept down, plunging deeply into Dandrae’s chest. Dandrae cried out.
And then Annatoly was there, fire burning in his eyes as he swooped down upon the attacker. His hands wrapped around the man’s neck, squeezing, squeezing. His hands turned white as he bore down upon the man. The man’s face mottled with blood, his attempts to free himself grew more feeble. Even as the man fought for his last breath, Fabienne heard the loud snap of bone and then the man was dead.
“Annatoly!” Fabienne whispered as he crawled toward Annatoly. He wrapped his arms around him holding him close, repeating his name over and over, afraid to let him go.
Within moments men swarmed around them. But too late. Fabienne turned to Dandrae. Annatoly dropped down next to Dandrae, took his hand and held it tight. Blood poured from his chest and from his mouth. Dandrae looked up into Annatoly’s eyes and he smiled.
“At last. A noble act. Not as lost as I thought. I am content.” A long sigh escaped his lips and he was gone.
“Dandrae, how I failed you,” Annatoly whispered in a choked voice. He leaned forward to brush his lips against Dandrae’s lifeless mouth. Tears welled in Fabienne’s eyes. So much sacrifice.
The Viadine wasted no time and whisked Fabienne away while they secured the grounds. It was Zabrael who finally came for him.
“Dandrae and his attacker are dead. The man was a traitor within our ranks. The ghouls slipped away into the mists. Annatoly is...I’ve never seen him so—not since—” He cleared his throat. “He’ll be fine. Carne is safe. We fell into Smopheus’s trap. Apparently Dandrae was sent only as a decoy. There were others placed within Annatoly’s household who were seduced to betrayal. I’m sorry, Fabienne. We should have been more diligent.”
“We can’t continue with the ceremony. Too much has already been lost,” Fabienne said. “Too much.”
Zabrael placed a hand on his shoulder. “We must continue. We can’t let them succeed. Carne and Annatoly are waiting for you, Fabienne. Order must be maintained. They need you, now more than ever. You must be strong for them.”
Fabienne took another shuddering breath. Was it worth it? And then they were once again leading him across the grounds to the chapel. A wet, dark patch stained the stone parquet at the entrance.
“Don’t let his sacrifice be for nothing,” Zabrael said. “Finish it.”
Fabienne turned and surveyed the darkened gardens. The night was silent as though waiting. Sentries wove in and out of the mists. Zabrael must have put out a call for reinforcements. There was no wind in the trees, no nightingale’s song. Even the music of the choir had silenced. All waited on him.
As he entered the chapel he noted that it was lit by what seemed a thousand candles. The gios stood in a circle in front of the stone altar, all wore blue hooded robes that shrouded their faces. Tonight was the first time that he’d see their faces clearly in all these centuries. He’d only ever heard them singing and been aware of their ghostly presence. At the center of the circle stood Annatoly. And next to him, a man, naked except for the mask he wore. He recognized the breadth of that beautiful physical form.
Desire surged hotly in these last moments. A desire that burned brighter and more fierce with each step he took toward the exalted circle. Once he stepped inside there would be no turning back.
