His new room was definitely a downgrade.
Most of the Hunters’ barracks had been hidden belowground, the logic being that if a necromancer attacked the Guild, they’d go for the top bits first. Aidan personally thought it was stupid, and any Earth mage with half a brain would just collapse the warren of tunnels beneath the Guild and be done with it, but he hadn’t been high enough in rank for his opinion to matter at that point in the planning process.
In any case, this had clearly been one of the first rooms created. The walls and floor and ceiling were all the same flat stone, melded from the earth by magic. A single lantern sat in a nook carved into the wall, and the bed was a twin.
His last room had been in an upper level, an old office. There had been an armchair and Persian rugs and heavy throws. King-size bed. A fireplace and small liquor table. Perfect for entertaining guests.
This was basically a casket with some extra leg room.
He stared up at the ceiling, freshly showered and in pajama bottoms, Fire burning in his chest and small flames dancing through the air around him, sparkling like stars or dust motes. He didn’t know how late it was and told himself it didn’t matter. Nothing seemed to matter right now.
It wasn’t a morose thought, honestly. It filled him with anger. He should have been on a throne right now. He should have at least had a room with a window.
For a while, he considered leaving. Just packing up his shit and going back to the flat Kianna had prepared for them. Telling the whole Guild to fuck off—he’d done his time, Scotland was free and he could do what he damn well pleased.
But Kianna was right.
If he did that, he would die of boredom. He’d killed one of the Kin. He couldn’t settle for going around mopping up a few starved Howls. Where was the fun in that?
Frankly, he’d peaked. And the only way to find a new pinnacle was to head to Europe and find the next Kin. And the only way to do that was to have the support of the Guild. Once more, bureaucracy was a pain in the arse. Frustrate him though it did, he knew he couldn’t make it over there on his own. Neither he nor Kianna knew how to sail, for one thing, and the Chunnel between England and France was collapsed. And no doubt the borders were heavily guarded, to prevent more Howls or necromancers from coming over.
Kianna was right, damn her. He needed to play it smart. Needed to bow to whatever whims the Guild had for now. If only so he could influence them later.
He would get what he wanted.
He just had to be patient.
And Fire was horrible at being patient.
After a while, he became aware that he wasn’t alone in the room, but he didn’t make any movements, not right away. He recognized the feeling of eyes on his body. The shift in temperature. The delightful shiver that told him he wasn’t just being watched, he was being admired.
He toyed with the flares above him, made them dance over his chest, highlighting his darkened skin, the swirling tattoos, the rise and fall of his muscles. Beads of sweat pricked over his skin, but he enjoyed the heat. Just as he enjoyed the effect he knew it had on his guest.
“I was hoping you’d show up,” Aidan said eventually, sending sparks dancing around his fingertips.
“I was hoping you’d be wearing less clothing,” Tomás replied. He stood just behind and to the side of Aidan, against the wall and mostly out of sight. But when Aidan spoke, he stepped forward and let Aidan devour his presence.
Like Aidan, he was shirtless. Like Aidan, the firelight seemed to worship Tomás’s olive skin, the peaks and valleys of his flesh, the sharp white of his smile. Unlike Aidan, he didn’t seem to mind the cramped quarters.
“That can be arranged.” Aidan didn’t bother sitting up. Instead, he curled one arm behind his head and let the other rest over his stomach. He kept his Sphere open. Not for defense, but for effect. Proper lighting was everything.
Besides, he knew Tomás wouldn’t hurt him.
It was a dumb assumption, yes. But it didn’t make it any less true. Especially when Tomás smiled like that. He knew he had the Kin on a short leash. The incubus may have been created to evoke desire, but Aidan had many years of playing with Fire to know a few tricks of his own.
“What are you doing here?” Aidan asked. He cocked an eyebrow, trailed his free hand down to the waistline of his pajamas. “You don’t strike me as the type of guy who just likes to watch.”
Tomás chuckled. “He thinks he is so cute,” he muttered. Then growled in the back of his throat. “The trouble is, he is right.”
Tomás knelt at the bedside in one smooth motion, folding his arms under his chin and tilting his head to the side, staring at Aidan through thick eyelashes, his hair a beautiful tangle.
“You don’t strike me as the type to watch, either. And yet here you wait, while the Guild does your dirty work.” Tomás’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t help you kill my brother so you could hide away and rot.” There was a fierceness in Tomás’s voice that made Aidan worry, just for a moment, that his assumptions of safety were wrong.
“Plans changed,” Aidan said smoothly. He waved his hand and curled more flame around it, watched the threads of fire dance between his cracked knuckles.
Tomás reached out trailed his finger along the knuckles of Aidan’s other hand.
“And you plan on letting them control you?” Tomás said. “Perhaps I chose the wrong man as my king. Perhaps he is not strong enough to rule.”
Aidan clenched his fist and the fire turned blue. “What would you have me do?” he seethed. “I can’t just incinerate them all.”
Tomás reached out and took Aidan’s fist. Flames spiraled around the two of them. Anyone else, the fire should have burned. But it licked against Tomás’s skin without leaving a mark, and even though they were Aidan’s flames, something about the way the fire curled over Tomás made him think the incubus controlled it as much as he did.
Aidan couldn’t help but feel like that exchange was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.
Tomás watched the flames dance. Then he turned his gaze back to Aidan, his expression serious.
“Who says you cannot?”
And for a moment, Aidan could see it.
He knew the weaknesses of this place, knew where one well-placed explosion could bring down a wall, or which hall to burn to snuff out the lives of the most of his brethren. He could do it. He could bring all of Glasgow down—city and Guild and all—just as he’d done with Edinburgh. In his mind’s eye, he saw the Guild on fire, saw the chaos he could bring, saw himself walking through the flames...
“Yes,” Tomás whispered, his voice a soothing temptation. “There is the man who would be king.”
Aidan yanked his hand away and forced Fire and the dreams of its conquest into submission. He didn’t let go of the Sphere, though. “I’m not killing other Hunters.”
“Why not? You have before. Five times, in fact. No need to stop now.”
“I’m not a monster.”
Tomás’s eyes narrowed, but his lips curled into a smile.
“Perhaps not like me. But in your own way...”
“I don’t think you’re a monster,” Aidan said, the words drawn from his lips. He knew it was what Tomás wanted him to say. He found himself trapped in Tomás’s gaze, those copper-flecked irises pulling him in.
“And that is why you might be one,” Tomás whispered. “It is also why I like you.”
Despite the heat running in his veins and the actual sparks that could set the bed ablaze, Aidan chuckled at the corny line. “You? You like me?” Howls didn’t like anyone. Not even the Kin.
Right?
Tomás’s other hand reached over and gently caressed Aidan’s cheek. “I like you very much,” Tomás whispered, his eyes flickering from Aidan’s eyes, across his face and down his chest. “In a way...in a way you remind me of myself. The passion. The anger. The lust for power.”
“That’s not all I lust for,” Aidan said. And drew his free hand up along Tomás’s naked torso, resting it on Tomás’s face. Tomás practically purred at the touch, and the intensity of being this close had narrowed Aidan’s focus to acquiring only one thing.
But when he pulled Tomás’s head toward his, the incubus broke away.
In a flash, he stood back against the shadows of the wall. Aidan wondered if he might be the only man in history to be turned down by a literal sex demon.
“No, no, not yet,” Tomás said. His voice was breathy, his chest heaving. He ran a hand through his hair, staring at Aidan all the while with a mix of desire and confusion. “You are an interesting one, my king. For you, I think, I would burn down the world.”
Aidan pushed himself to sitting. Tomás seemed to be wrestling with himself, and Aidan enjoyed watching the struggle.
“I’ve already done the same for you,” Aidan said.
“He has, yes. But he must prove himself again.”
“How am I supposed to prove myself when I’m locked up here?” Aidan asked, gesturing to the walls around him. “I’m not going to kill my own Guild, no matter what you offer. I can’t exactly just run off to find your brother’s shard when I don’t know where it is. I don’t work for you.”
Tomás smiled. Aidan had thought the statement would set him off, but if anything, the Kin seemed to like it. “I know, my king. You are in control. You are always in control. But there is much you must yet do. My brother was but the first—”
“No, he wasn’t,” Aidan said. He sat up straighter. “Another one of you was killed. Leanna.”
He hadn’t known if he would bring it up with Tomás, but the moment the words left his lips, he knew it was the right—and wrong—thing to say. A dozen different emotions seemed to burn behind Tomás’s copper-flecked eyes. Chief among them: regret.
“How did you know?” Tomás asked quietly.
Aidan shrugged. “Prophets. Sometimes we get word from the temple in America for big things. Like losing the Kin that ruled the country.” He leaned forward. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because,” Tomás said. “You should have been the first to feel that victory. The blood of a Kin on your hands. The taste of immortality. You deserved it more.”
“More than who?”
Aidan could tell he had Tomás trapped then, and it filled him with a sort of power, one he hadn’t felt when he killed Calum. Now he felt in control.
“Who killed Leanna?” Aidan pressed. His eyes narrowed. “Or did you do it? Like you did with Calum?”
The room grew cold, yet sweat dripped from Aidan’s skin.
“I did not kill my sister,” Tomás whispered. “Nor did I kill my brother. I merely made them ready. Presented them. To those who needed to secure their place in history.”
“Who?”
“His name is Tenn. And if you are not careful, he will come and kill you, too.” Tomás knelt at Aidan’s side, took his hand. “We cannot let that happen,” Tomás whispered. “I couldn’t bear losing you. My prince. My king. That is why you must trust me. Why you must secure your power here. For when Tenn comes for you, he will surely try to kill you.”
“I won’t let that happen,” Aidan said. Leaned in closer.
“Nor will I,” Tomás replied. He reached out, gently cupped the side of Aidan’s face. Aidan curled against the hot and cold of the Kin’s palm. “While you rest, I am seeking the heart of my brother’s power. The shard that pulled him from the grave. When I find it, I will send you for it. And when you hold the secret of his resurrection in your hands, even death will cower at your feet. Then, and only then, will you secure your place in history.”
Tomás’s breath was hot against Aidan’s lips. Aidan could see it, could feel it—the power of immortality, the spark of life he could snuff or enflame.
“And the boy?”
“Means nothing, in the end. Not compared to you, my king. Nothing compared to you.”
Aidan leaned forward. Pressed his lips to Tomás’s. His vision exploded in heat and desire.
But a second later, the Kin was gone.