Whatever magic their unusual host channeled, it took an immense toll on their body. They slumped into Johnathan’s chest, their lids blinking heavily as they struggled to remain conscious. Their brown skin paled from the strain. Katherine kept pace beside them, dabbing at Merry’s face with a dry cloth.
“You shouldn’t have let them push you like that,” she scolded softly.
Merry shuddered. Their teeth chattered as they tried to burrow into Johnathan’s warmth. “If I failed to answer all their questions, Alazar would have forced me to do it again.”
“I hate him,” Katherine hissed.
Johnathan couldn’t blame her. He tried to keep his arms steady, Merry’s face flushed with pain at every bump, though he didn’t make a sound. Between the magic and the shift that followed, their host was a wreck. “Where’s your room?”
Merry shook their head. “The conservatory, bring me to the conservatory,” they gasped.
Johnathan hesitated. “The garden?”
“Yes, I need—” Merry swallowed convulsively. Johnathan didn’t wait for further explanation, moving fast as possible without jostling his passenger. Katherine streaked ahead of them. They arrived at the conservatory in seconds, where Johnathan eased Merry into a reclining chair near the work bench. Sweat limned their upper lip, their dark hair plastered to their forehead.
“We’re here.” Johnathan gave their shoulder a gentle shake to rouse them. Merry sat up with a groan, dragging themselves to the workstation in slow laborious movements. Johnathan hovered, worried their host would crash to the ground before they managed to fix whatever remedy they came here for. Where had Katherine disappeared to? He thought she meant to meet them here, but she was nowhere to be seen. “Is there anything I can get you?”
Merry fixed him with a glassy eyed stare. “Stay with me. Please. In case I keel over.”
It was a simple request that made him wonder how many times Merry had to do this alone. Was Katherine not a permanent fixture of the Estate? He watched, and when their hands shook too much to manage grinding the ingredients, Johnathan gently took the pestle from them to finish.
“The same wine as before?” Merry nodded. Johnathan located the bottle and poured the wine into a fresh glass before he added the ingredients. He gave it a swirl like they’d done earlier. Merry watched him, an unreadable expression on their face when Johnathan handed them the glass.
They drank deeply; whatever the contents, the shaking subsided almost immediately. Merry set the glass down, easing back into the chair, their hands resting on their abdomen.
Their color improved by the minute. “Do you want me to go?” Johnathan asked. He itched to return to Vic, though he knew his presence would do nothing but make the other man worry. Especially if Katherine wasn’t there.
“Not yet, please. Not until Katherine returns,” said Merry, their voice still hoarse, exhaustion heavy on their countenance. Their head lolled to the side, meeting his gaze. “You are kind. Far kinder than I expected.”
Johnathan frowned. “Expected for what?”
“For my replacement.”
The sentiment didn’t fill him with the same level of venom. There was something about the way the vampires treated Merry that was far too familiar. One that reminded him of a boy, the Prospective trying to prove himself. The Society didn’t care about him, only how they could use him. It made Johnathan more curious about Merry’s relationship with Vic than jealous.
“What was he like?” Johnathan sat down on the empty stool, scratching at the leftover husks of herbs littering the table.
A tired smile lit Merry’s wan face. “Charming, beautiful.” They winked at Johnathan. “An attentive lover.”
He ducked his head, aware of the traitorous blush coloring his skin. “Was he patient with you?”
Merry chuckled. “I’m not certain if patient is quite the right word, but yes. He might be the most considerate lover I’ve ever taken, but the man had lusts and demands which he could easily sate elsewhere if I was unavailable.”
The blush deepened, a worm of doubt wriggling in his gut.
“Johnathan? Now you look ill. Whatever’s the matter?” Merry sat up straighter.
“It’s nothing. Please don’t get up,” he said. The wine bottle looked awfully tempting.
Merry blinked at him. “You’re blushing.” They ignored his order to stay put, rising on wobbly legs. “Is Victor treating you properly?”
“What? Of course, he is. It’s not that.” He wanted to bury his face in his hands. Merry’s expression turned thoughtful.
Pulling up another stool they sat astride Johnathan, bringing out another glass. “Wine?”
“Yes, please.” Johnathan wished he were back in the common room, with the vicious duo, rather than having this conversation. He downed the contents of his glass in one swallow.
His host studied him over the rim of their own wine glass before they slapped their palm down on the table. “That’s a virgin’s blush.” Their eyes widened. “You’re a virgin?”
“No!” Though Johnathan doth protested too much, his heated exchange with Vic only a few hours ago ended in such failure his body burned from it. “Not entirely. There has been some—why are we talking about this?”
They shrugged. “You needed to.” Merry stated and refilled Johnathan’s wine glass. “I’d rather chat about this, numbing myself with wine, than wallow in the pain. You know, there is nothing to be ashamed of. I was a virgin well into my twenties.”
His brows rose. “Really?”
Merry’s mouth twisted in wry amusement. “Shockingly, it is rather difficult to find a partner comfortable with their lover shifting between sexes. Which I am rather impressed you have not asked me about yet.”
Johnathan studied his claws. He hated the transformation to the Hound, but he was aware when it happened. Merry changed while unconscious. “It didn’t look you had much control over it.”
“An astute observation.” Merry clinked their glass against his.
“That’s something I understand,” said Johnathan. He pressed his lips together at the unintentional slip.
Johnathan debated the wisdom of continuing this conversation. How much had Vic revealed of what happened to him before they arrived at the Estate. Did Merry know his hands were drenched in blood? The conflict must have been evident in his expression.
“Why do you think I agreed to help you?” Merry assuaged his fears. “You’re safe here, Johnathan. Whatever my past with Victor, I’m committed to your cause. I believe I’ve found something that might help.”
His head whipped up. “Do you mean it?”
“I need to rest,” they said, giving his hand a pat, “but I promise we will try as soon as I’ve recovered.”
Hope dangled on a fragile thread he dared not strain. The possibility was enough.
The moment passed. An inebriated grin lit up Merry’s face. “I must admit, I am surprised you haven’t gone further with him.” They held up a hand. “Victor would never force you, but with all that charm it is rather interesting he hasn’t, mmm, staked his claim yet.’’
It wasn’t for lack of trying. “There are… thoughts… fears that hold me back,” Johnathan admitted. The ragged hollow that plagued him remained quiet. He absently rubbed his chest. “I need to move past it,” he murmured.
“He’s clearly lost for you,” said Merry. “Kept stealing glances at you while we were in there.”
“He said he would be there when I was ready,” said Johnathan.
His host poured the rest of the bottle into his glass. “If your lack of experience is what has you hesitating, sex is more instinct than you think. Maybe you should be the one to stake your claim.” Merry grinned.
Johnathan rolled his eyes. He’d entertain that idea later, in private. “Why does magic make you shift?”
“Ouch, there’s the subject change.” Merry rolled their shoulders, stretching their arms over their head. “It is a payment, an exchange to use the gift I was born with, though you are the first to make that connection without explanation.”
That didn’t sound like much of a gift. Johnathan couldn’t imagine surviving to adulthood when your body constantly remade itself. “Does it hurt?”
Merry tapped the side of their glass. “Not in the way you’d think. The Sight hurts far more, like speaking through a mouthful of broken glass.”
“That’s how you know about the Society’s movements,” said Johnathan. He wanted to ask about the twice blessed but Merry hid the information. Protecting them. The question withered on his tongue. “If there are vampires as old as Alazar and Tamara, why didn’t they stop the Society sooner?”
His host snorted. “You saw what they were like in there. Congenial as feral cats, even when they share a common goal to survive. Vic is the calmest of the three, but large groups feed off one another’s aggression.”
Johnathan knew that, but realized he never applied it to the older vampires, who he thought would have matured past that lone predator aspect of their nature.
“The Society might be mere humans, but they are trained, they are righteous, and they are numerous,” said Merry. “Gather enough ants and they can overwhelm the spider.”
That was a morbid comparison. The numbers might fall in the humans’ favor, but the body count would be high. The Society knew many methods of incapacitating vampires, another point in their favor. On the battlefield they would be hard to contend with, even for an old vicious goddess like Tamara. Johnathan’s lips parted.
“They know their weaknesses,” he murmured.
Merry paused mid-drink. “What was that?”
“The Society knows what weakens demons,” said Johnathan. “They almost succeeded in the north because they came armed with nets and cages of silver to trap a Hound. They had a weapon that nearly brought Cernunnos down.”
A strained laugh spilled out of Merry’s mouth. “Details I’m sure Victor is sharing with the others. Alazar will no doubt send for our extended allies.” There was blatant hostility in their laugh.
“Alazar was incredibly rude to you,” said Johnathan.
They drained their glass. “Most of them are like that. I might be useful, but I’m still human. Mostly,” Merry amended. They held up a finger. “Victor is not like that. He sees humans differently, more than a means of food and entertainment.”
Being in the same room with Alazar and Tamara made that obvious. He couldn’t imagine either vampire befriending someone like Alyse or risking themselves to save the humans around them. Victor had faults and struggled with the violent urges of his nature, but at his core Johnathan believed he was a good man.
Katherine reappeared with a burst of icy air, a fistful of fresh herbs clutched in her pale hand, the vibrant stems touched with frost. She scowled at them. “I thought you were on Death’s doorstep.” She tossed the herbs onto the table. “Here I come back to find you chatting and drinking wine.”
Merry had the grace to look contrite. “I didn’t mean to worry you, Kat. Is that fresh rosemary and mint?”
“They are more effective when fresh,” she said, hopping up onto the table. Her gaze wistful. “I miss wine.”
Johnathan tuned them out. There was something that had been niggling at the back of his thoughts after Merry’s use of the Sight. He’d been so keyed up by mention of his former mentor he nearly forgot the Scarlet Sisters.
“Who are the Scarlet Sisters?” He asked.
Merry shuddered. “Fanatics. They were not originally part of the Society, but a sect of the Catholic church that managed to maintain knowledge and worship of the Benign. They split off some time ago to form their cult. That they joined the Society in this endeavor is worrisome.”
And they were coming for the Estate. How had they recuperated their forces so quickly? He could almost hear Sister Wilhem’s strange chiming instrument. “What are the blessed?”
“A complicated answer, my friend,” said Merry. They looked up at the glass ceiling. “I believe the vampires are done scheming by now. Go, find Victor.”
An obvious evasion, there was a factor here he needed in order to piece the puzzle together. But Merry was exhausted and had given him more than enough to think about tonight. “Goodnight Merry, Katherine.” He nodded to them and slipped off the stool. The wine rushed straight to his head in a pleasant buzz. Far more potent than he realized after guzzling two glasses. He managed to make it to the footpath without any embarrassing wobbles.
“Johnathan!” He stopped at Merry’s voice, bracing himself on a convenient tree to look over his shoulder without falling. Their host fiddled with their empty glass, agitated. “Be careful, with Victor.” Merry looked up, an unreadable expression in those tired green eyes. “His kind will ruin you.”
The enjoyable buzz fizzed to a sour taste in his mouth. An echo of Hesper’s warning, from someone who’d had considerably more intimate experience with Vic. He was a murderous beast who narrowly avoided Hell, how much more damage could Vic do? With a three-finger salute, Johnathan meandered toward his room to be ruined.