Joseph surfaced from sleep a little at a time. First, he saw daylight and it didn’t hurt his eyes. He blinked and attempted to remember where he was and why. He was warm and comfortable and the hold that someone had on him was firm and secure. He snuggled down into the hold and sighed. That had been some nightmare. His magic gone, and his whole form wrapped in chains, he had been caught in a web with a spider crawling ever closer and leaving blood in a trail behind.
He should think of something good. Like a person, or a place, or try and recall a dream that didn’t make him shudder in remembrance of it.
Second, he inhaled the scent of the forest. Sharp and clean it was home and he was warm and he was safe. Safe? Why is it important I am safe? He moved a hand and winced at the ache in it. He must have slept on his wrist in an odd position.
Yawning, he stretched back against the man who held him. Definitely a man if the touch of his fingers on hard muscles could be trusted.
“Joseph?”
Micah sat on a chair just out of view and Joseph moved his head to be able to look at his brother. Was Micah in the room with him? Even though Joseph had a lover in his bed?
“What?” he asked curiously. Micah looked ill. Pale, actually way past vampire-pale, and his eyes had bags that smudged purple under each eye.
Micah reached over and held his sore hand. Joseph stopped himself from wincing again. He didn’t want Micah going all concerned brother on him because of an aching wrist.
“How do you feel?” Micah whispered.
“Tired,” Joseph answered truthfully. Micah nodded. He looked uncomfortable. Like he had something to say, but didn’t know how to. Joseph reached out with his twin connection, but when he heard nothing and felt little except a dull ache behind the eyes, he gave up. He was just too damn exhausted. That was why everything ached and his magic was hiding somewhere. “Spit it out,” he said.
Micah pulled his lower lip between his teeth and worried the skin for a while. “Do you remember what happened?”
“Did I drink a bad batch of synth?” That was the only thing he could think of that would cause him to have what appeared to be a hangover from hell. “Hell,” he said quickly. “Who did I fuck?” He couldn’t bring himself to look. If Micah was looking so destroyed, then Joseph had to have done something pretty awful.
“No one,” Micah said softly. “You shut the portal in Glitnir. You were trapped. Phin rescued you.” The summary was obviously difficult for Micah. He looked devastated.
“Phin?” Joseph said gently. He moved his other arm to turn and look at the man behind him, suddenly very aware of who it could be. When his arm caught on something, Micah attempted to help. A quick glance up confirmed to Joseph he was hooked up to a drip of full blood. Shit. He had to have been bad for them to have him on the real stuff. No wonder his veins tingled—he hadn’t touched real blood since he was a child. Finally Micah had him extricated and helped him to sit up. Joseph deliberately didn’t look at Phin until he sat upright and the head rush had gone. Then with a determination not to feel anything out of the ordinary, he turned his gaze to the sleeping elf.
Phin had released his hold of him in sleep. Falling to his back, he lay flat on the bed and appeared dead to the world. Joseph scanned him for injury but there was nothing. He was dressed in loose pants and a shirt and Joseph blinked. Phin should be wearing a flowing white shirt and tight black pants. Where had that thought built from? A memory?
Phin was gorgeous. Sleeping in a stream of light coming through the half-open slatted wooden blinds he was like a god. His white-blond hair, messy and tangled, was in disarray around his face and Joseph could see the point of one ear poking through. Every time he met the annoying elf, Joseph was blown away by the softness of his skin, of the slim form with defined muscles, at the beautiful silver eyes. Phin looked exhausted but well. What the hell happened? Why was Phin here? Why couldn’t Joseph remember a thing?
Phin moved in his sleep and he reached out as if to find the person who lay next to him. When his hand met cold space, his eyes flickered open and his gaze focused on Joseph. He frowned.
“You need to sleep,” he said. His voice was rough and low and, irritation ran through it.
“I’m not tired,” Joseph said. Then ruined the confidence in his voice by yawning again.
Phin sighed. “Lie down,” he ordered. Joseph decided he wasn’t going to move, but with Micah helping him it suddenly seemed that all his body wanted to do was be horizontal. Phin mumbled something under his breath which sounded suspiciously like the words idiot and stupid. He touched his finger to Joseph’s chest and Joseph experienced the cool trickle of magic sliding through his system. He attempted to call his own power to stop the effects of what was happening to him. But he couldn’t summon anything and gave into the sleep that Phin forced onto him.
* * *
Phin looked over at Micah. “Was he awake long?”
“No.” Micah sat back in his chair. He looked concerned and Phin waited for the questions. “Why doesn’t he remember, Phin? What did you do?”
“I took his memories so he could sleep. He needs to sleep.”
“But if you have them, how can you sleep?”
“They’re not my memories,” Phin explained. “It’s easy.” He was lying. The pain he was able to see Joseph experiencing was evil and he couldn’t ignore it, but he was managing to shield most of it so he could sleep. He pushed himself up off the bed and stood for a second while he centered himself. He didn’t want any more questions. He made to leave the room, but Micah scrambled to his feet and stopped his exit with a firm grip on his arm. Phin attempted to tug it free.
“Wait,” Micah said firmly.
“What?”
“Thank you. For bringing Joseph back, for finding him, for everything.”
“It’s fine.” Finally he shrugged free and sidestepped Joseph’s twin with a forced smile. His senses were on overload, his skin felt tight, and the last thing he needed was to have Micah’s anxiety added to the horrors already spinning around in his head.
“I’ll make sure he knows what you did,” Micah called after him.
Phin stopped on the threshold to the room. Did he want that? Was he interested in Joseph thinking good of him after all this time?
“He’ll remember when he’s fully healed. I can’t hold most of the memories forever and they’ll reform slowly.” All except the memory where they exchanged I love yous. Phin wasn’t letting that one go.
Micah nodded his understanding, and then retook his seat in a vigil for his brother. When Phin stepped outside, the sun high in the sky implied it was near to midday as was possible, but midday of what particular day was something Phin couldn’t recall. Rolling his shoulders, he wandered around the small town. Typically the first person he walked into was a very pissed Simeon Blue.
The shifter was a long way from home—as an ambassador from the Second Kingdom to Glitnir, he was Phin’s only connection to home. The Feline Guild had long been loyal to the Elf King. As heir to that throne Phin could ask for Simeon to be on his knees swearing loyalty. If he cared, that was. Simeon certainly didn’t fall to his knees, or show the respect Phin’s birth status earned him normally. Instead, the shifter narrowed his gaze and crossed his arms over his broad chest.
Phin held up his hands to proclaim innocence and to defend what he had done in order to get Joseph out of Glitnir. “I can only port one person,” he began. “I needed everything to get Joseph out.”
“I know,” Simeon said carefully. He raised a single eyebrow. He had a good foot on Phin and probably a hundred pounds of muscle. Phin considered that Simeon was probably going to hit him, or sit on him, or something. Instead, the cat shifter relaxed his stance, and then in a quick move pulled his shirt over his head. “Look,” he said firmly.
Phin was looking. At acres of bronze skin with a smattering of gold-blond hair. Simeon Blue was gorgeous. Phin rolled his tongue back in his mouth. Simeon Blue may well be gorgeous, but he wasn’t Joseph.
Then Phin realized what Simeon meant. Right over Simeon’s heart was a perfectly formed handprint. Phin’s handprint. Phin peered as close as he dared—just out of arm’s reach as self-preservation kicked in.
“Sorry,” Phin finally said. “I’ve never used the whole knocking unconscious thing on a feline shifter before,” he offered carefully.
“Am I stuck with it?” Simeon didn’t sound pissed. In fact, he was intrigued. He ran a finger over the mark and it ended at his nipple. Deliberately, he dragged his nail across the cinnamon disk and the nub hardened. Phin didn’t need to have powers to see inside people’s thoughts to see Simeon coming on to him. Phin stepped back. Was Simeon really going there?
“It should fade,” Phin said. He went to walk around, but Simeon held his arm as he moved past. Phin sighed inwardly—people needed to stop hanging on to him, he might be small, but he could zap things in an instant if he wanted to.
Simeon leaned closer and Phin swore he could hear a soft purr. “Maybe what I need is skin to skin contact with a cute sexy elf to make it all better,” Simeon said with a smirk.
Phin opened his mouth to respond. Then shut it again. Joseph was front and center in his mind—no room for anyone else. So what did he say to that blatant come on? “I’m in a…I’m…thank you…but…no.”
Simeon released his hold with a chuckle and Phin moved away at speed. As he turned the corner, he glanced back. Simeon stood there, staring with a feral grin pasted on his face, and then with a wave he turned and walked in the opposite direction.
The town of Winterhill wasn’t big, maybe a thousand souls, a mix of fae and human that co-existed peacefully. Far enough away from Glitnir to remain left alone, but close enough so that the Resistance had access to the city, the town was quiet and a comfortable place to stay.
None of the residents would see Phin—well they could, but Phin had dealt with that. They would see nothing more than someone they thought they knew, but couldn’t remember why. Magic was his skill and one he was happy to use. No one in their small group wanted the town in peril—which is what it would be if anyone found out they were there.
Phin managed to avoid meeting up with any of the rest of the group and he was grateful for that. He knew Connor was around—the wolf was never far from Micah. Levi was here somewhere as well. Levi was going to be angry with him for knocking him unconscious and leaving him behind. Hell, at least when they met, Levi would be just angry and not spend his time making advances towards Phin, like Simeon had. Levi was holed up somewhere with Declan. That just left Joseph.
He didn’t want to think about Joseph.
No two supernaturals with magic can ever be together.
Paranormal 101 and taught to every child whether Glitnir or Second Kingdom. Same accepted understanding as the old rule of werewolves not being physical with vampires. Come to think of it, weren’t incubi supposed to keep their sex lives in species as well? Of course he and Joseph had never really made it past the whole attraction stage. Both hiding from the world the fact they had magic. They may well have fallen hard and fast with a need so strong it knocked Phin backward, but the ingrained rules made them stop. Then of course, there was Ethan. That had ended things between Joseph and Phin before they could even start.
Didn’t stop the fascination Phin had for Joseph or the need to love the sexy vampire.
Finally he made it to the small place that he was using as his home. Why he bothered having a space to call his own he didn’t know but Joseph had insisted that each member of the team had a place in the town. Team…Joseph thought Phin was loyal to his vision of a new future, with the corruption washed away, where each supernatural or human lived in peace—a Utopia that Phin doubted could ever happen.
Phin wasn’t Resistance in the true sense of the word. He was a son escaping a destiny he didn’t want. He hated sitting on his hands and he wanted in on the action, but at the same time he tired of all the plotting and planning and the complicated politics of this anti-Glitnir revolution. He left all that stuff to Joseph. Phin was happy playing the part of the awkward one who didn’t listen to orders.
Anyway, why would he, Orophin Tiwele, listen to anyone? He was heir to the entire Second Kingdom. Elves, the Feline Guild, an army of blood demons, an entire country to rule. He was here because…
And that was the problem. After keeping Asher’s secrets and seeing what his own father did to those who dared to confront his iron rule, he’d become disillusioned with his own home.
He’d run away from his destiny to make a new one, met Joseph and believed that was it. The place he needed to be. With his own father sending blood demons after him to bring Phin home and putting a price on his head? Was he only here because he had to be to stay away from the place he was born. Or was he here because he wanted to be?
Angrily he paced his small home. His headache was worse and the oppressive feeling that he had fucked up again had him clenching his teeth in frustration. Simeon didn’t seem to be furious that Phin had knocked him out. That was one down, but he’d yet to talk to Levi. Phin didn’t do teamwork. He didn’t need it. He was more powerful than any of the Resistance, or the overpaid and underused Glitnir representatives. He was stronger than his father, and the entire race of elves who had turned their backs on Phin because he had run.
He shut the wooden blinds and the lessening of sunlight in his eyes was a welcome relief. Bands of tension circled his head and his shoulders were tight. All the memories he had temporarily taken from Joseph spun in his thoughts and he couldn’t understand how Joseph had survived any of what Phin could see. So much pain and anguish, and seeing Joseph watch the torturous images pushed at him was more than he could cope with. The worst image was of him and Asher, ending with Phin’s throat being ripped out. The throat ripping wasn’t the bad part. Seeing a vision of him and Asher together made him feel ill. Joseph must have those thoughts for Ludvik to manipulate and create the hell he had thrown Joseph into.
Joseph. He hadn’t been lying to Joseph when he had been inside the labyrinth of a dying Joseph’s mind. He did love the infuriating vampire, he had done so from the first time they met, but Joseph had chosen Ethan. Phin wasn’t going to fight a dead man’s ghost.
Then there was Asher. Phin had let Joseph think things that weren’t true, just to save face. One mistake. He’d blown everything. And now Joseph was leading this little revolution of theirs—expanding the number of supernaturals involved, using his powers in a limited way and doing what was right. Becoming a damn hero and moving further away from Phin with each day.
And what was Phin doing? Sitting in the darkened room playing with a ball of fire with the casual air of someone who didn’t know how dangerous it was to be using magic in public.
He wasn’t responsible. He was fun, and happy, and focused…and on the run…and tired.
There was a knock on the door and Levi’s voice accompanied the noise. “Phin? You in there?”
“No,” he called. He wasn’t technically lying, when he then made sure he wasn’t in the room. He focused on the one person he wanted to see and felt the familiar tug in the pit of his stomach as he ported, right into the one place he felt calm. Asher’s home.
The door to the bathroom was shut, the shower running, and Phin knocked on the door. “Asher? Are you in there?” He shouted so Asher could hear him over the noise of the water.
“Gods, Orophin,” Asher’s voice was strangled and tense. “Go away, I’m in the shower.”
“Are you getting off?” Phin said quickly. Sure sounded like Asher was doing something if his growly sex voice was any indication.
“I’m busy.”
“You’re in there alone, it can’t be much fun,” Phin deadpanned. “What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” This time Asher’s tone had changed to include irritation.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Fuck you, Phin,” Asher snarled.
Phin heard cursing and the noises of Asher turning off the water and climbing out of the shower. Moving away from the door, he made himself comfortable on the bed. Asher was going to be as mad as a poked sleeping bear when he exited that bathroom. Even worse because he'd been making use of the alone time and his right hand and probably had blue balls now.
This couldn’t wait. Asher was the only person he could trust with all the confusion swirling in Phin’s head. Closing his eyes, Phin concentrated on the pain in his head as much as he could, and then nudged it to one side. Opening a mental box, he slid in all of Joseph’s memories and the things that made Phin’s skin tight with emotion then shut the lid.
“You look like shit,” Asher snapped.
Phin opened his eyes, and then smiled. Asher didn’t look like temper had driven him from the bathroom, if anything the harsh words were softened by his concerned expression.
“I dreamwalked,” Phin explained. “Was a hero and all that kind of thing.”
Asher pulled the towel away from his waist, and then slid on pants. Pulling a scarlet shirt over his head, he used the towel to scrub at his short dark hair.
“That shirt brings out the red in your eyes,” Phin teased.
“Fuck you Phin,” Asher said without heat. Asher crossed to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of green liquid and two glasses. Pouring a little of the liquid into each, he passed one to Phin, and then sat in the chair at the end of the bed with his own. Sipping his drink, Asher sat patiently. He was an expert in saying nothing and waiting for Phin to talk.
“How’s your wound?” Phin asked first. The last time he’d seen Asher, he’d sent him home with death only a few steps away.
Asher inclined his head. “Healed. Although I’m not sure the King was that impressed by having to deal with it.”
“Then he shouldn’t have sent you to find me,” Phin said tiredly. He moved the glass and watched the green liquid move in smooth circles before settling again. He’d never liked this stuff, a combination of pure alcohol, sage and leaf, but to blood demons, it was nectar. He took a small sip and breathed through the burn as it traveled down his throat.
“You couldn’t help what happened,” Asher said gently.
“I told Levi and Declan to stay at the bottom of the peak, but they didn’t.” Phin sighed. “I should have knocked them unconscious.” Although how he would have explained that was another matter. “Are you okay?”
Asher ignored the question. Instead he focused on Phin and turned the question back at him. “Are you okay? I had to make it look good you know. That I was really trying to retrieve you, in case I was seen.”
Phin waved the words away. “I just wish you didn’t have to pretend,” Phin replied. He was safe here with the wards he’d placed around Asher’s home many years before. No one in the Second Kingdom could clear what Phin had created. No one was strong enough.
“Are we doing this again?” Asher asked softly. “This is the way it has to be until your father passes. Then when you are King—”
“Stop Asher,” Phin interrupted. “I don’t want to be King. I’m not the oldest.”
Gods, this argument was an old one. Phin may not be the first of the King’s two sons, but he was the only pure blood elf. The other brother? A bastard born out of wedlock and no more accepted as the King’s son than a total stranger.
Asher shrugged. He clearly wasn’t ready to debate this again. “Why are you here, Phin?” he asked instead.
“Joseph,” he blurted out.
“Color me surprised,” Asher said dryly. “You only ever visit when it’s about Joseph.”
“That’s not true,” Phin began. “I visited when…” he stopped. Attempting to recall the times he’d visited Asher like this, he actually couldn’t remember once when he’d come without having just left Joseph for one reason or another. Shame had him hanging his head. Asher didn’t deserve this. Phin should come and see him just because he could. He felt the bed dip as Asher sat down next to him and leaned back against the headboard.
“I’m teasing you, Phin,” Asher said gently. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
Phin shook his head. “He was dying, and he’d done what I would do, he’d hidden his magic, and he couldn’t heal. So I dreamwalked and I saw…” He shuddered, and then placed the drink on the cabinet by the bed. Emotion built inside of him and, when Asher put his arm around Phin’s shoulder, Phin leaned into the welcome hug. “Chains. All these chains, cutting into him, and I told him things. I said I loved him. He said he loved me.”
“Ahh,” Asher said with his infuriating all-knowing voice. “So finally the two of you admit what you have been keeping inside for years. What did he say when he woke up?” Phin groaned and turned his face so he could hide in Asher’s shirt. “Phin?” Asher prompted. “What did he say?”
“I took the memory,” Phin admitted. “I took all the memories of what he’d been through so he could heal.”
“Gods, Phin, you can’t do that. You need to give them back.”
“He mentioned love in a dream Ash, he didn’t mean it.”
“Go back to him, give him the memory back and see where it goes. Isn’t it finally time for the two of you to stop the dance and give in to each other.”
Phin groaned again. If only it was that easy. “He chose Ethan over me,” Phin said tiredly.
“He had his reasons, Phin, you have to know that. Ethan needed protection and the Resistance needed his skill with language.”
“I know,” Phin snapped. “I get he was this fragile human Joseph had affection for and wanted to protect, I get Ethan was this gorgeous sexy brilliant man who could help translate with Micah. I get all that. But it went further for Joseph. He chose Ethan and told me he had made his choice.”
“Ethan died,” Asher said gently. “Joseph tried to keep him safe. You’re both free men. Give him back his memory of what was said and begin to make a life for both of you.”
“Thing is…” Gods, this was hard. “I lied to him. That day when he told me he was putting Ethan ahead of us. I lied and said I was with someone anyway, and that I didn’t care.”
“He would have seen you were lying, wouldn’t he? You told me Joseph has incredible perception, as well as a body built for sex, gorgeous eyes, a tight ass…I can go on.” Asher laughed as he spoke.
“No he wouldn’t have,” Phin said miserably. “See, I lied to him, but I used someone I loved anyway and he wouldn’t have known the difference.”
Silence. Asher said nothing. He was evidently mulling over what Phin had just said.
Finally Asher spoke, his voice soft, “What did you do, Phin?”
Phin swallowed and hoped he would make it through the next few minutes alive. “I told him I was with you. It was the easiest option. I love you and it was the only thing I could think on the spur of the moment. He hates blood demons so it was perfect.” Phin tensed. He hadn’t exactly meant to add that last bit. Vampires and blood demons were actually connected a thousand generations before. Vampires had created the blood demons as walking donors. While vampires chose to assimilate, blood demons rejoiced in their need for blood. Well, all except Asher that was.
“Let me get this straight,” Asher said deceptively calm. “You told the man you love, a vampire, that you were in love with me, a blood demon, so that you could do what?”
“Make it look like I didn’t care,” Phin said gently. When I cared so much. When it broke my heart into a million pieces for Joseph to offer protection to Ethan.
“Phin, look at me.” Asher was insistent. Phin finally pulled away and stared into Asher’s clear green eyes. “You need to tell him who I am, so he understands, make him see.”
“I’ve lied for so long now,” Phin said helplessly.
“You want to save face?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“You love Joseph. Do you want to have something with him? As much of a future as you can have in the middle of planning a revolution?”
“I’m not planning a revolution,” Phin answered quickly. Asher quirked a brow, and then frowned. Phin sighed. Asher knew Phin was lying to himself. Phin was as much a part of the Resistance as Joseph, or Micah, or Simeon. “Okay, so maybe I am part of it all.”
“Tell him. Just say…Joseph, you know I told you I was sleeping with Asher, well actually I’m not. I lied to you to save face. Because you see, Asher is my older half-brother and though I love him because he is great, it’s a brother bond and not a fucking bond that we have. Only don’t tell anyone because only he and I know and if the King knew there was another claim on the Second Kingdom throne then he would remove Asher’s head from his neck.”
Phin couldn’t take his eyes off Asher’s face as he spoke. Although his brother was laughing as he spoke, Phin could see the passion in his eyes.
“He’ll kill me,” Phin said.
Asher held out a hand and Phin took it in a firm grip, lacing their fingers. When he was five, he’d known he had a connection to Asher. The demon was part of the royal guard, a young trainee, and Phin could tell they were brothers even then. His best friend and, between them, they had a secret that both would take to their graves. Phin was a pureblood elf, Asher a mix of elf and blood demon, although the elf side of him was mercifully hidden. The Second Kingdom didn’t tolerate the royal line being diluted.
“Call me if you need me,” Asher said simply.
Phin nodded. “I will.”