“Judas vamps are not popular.” Kilian admitted. Had he understood how much certain populations hated the species, he might have second-guessed his choices, but he'd made his decision, and he stood by it.
“This is a horrible idea,” Stephen warned.
More than anything else Stephen had said, that convinced Kilian to stay. If Stephen had been on the verge of losing control of the demon, he wouldn't have been so concerned about saving a man he hadn't seen in ten years.
“If we both agree this is a bad idea in one month, we can mutually agree to undo the binding ritual.” A small voice in the back of Kilian’s brain warned him that if the demon had too much control, he was screwed. No witch, no Druid, no fey could break a binding spell unless both parties agreed. If the demon took control, it would use the binding spell to enslave Kilian. He looked at the tightness around Stephen's mouth and the exhaustion in his eyes, and he remembered the boy Stephen had been — bright and wild and loving. “Give it one month.”
Stephen studied him for a moment, but then ice slid across his features as he picked up his controller. “Whatever.” He reset his character’s progress and returned to trying to conquer his electronic city using his werewolf avatar.
Mia had a wide smile on her face.
“I can show you the contracts before we do the appropriate ceremonies,” Mia said. “Follow me.” She headed back into the hallway where an armed guard stood with his weapon raised. Wondering if he was making a mistake, Kilian followed.
Chapter Four
Kilian settled sidewaysin the ugly chair and draped a leg over the arm. It was odd to have a new posting without any orientation or training schedule. It made him restless and uneasy in his own skin. But once Mia had overseen the simple binding ceremony, they’d both been escorted back to the apartment. Kilian twirled the simple silver ring around his finger. It was a magical leash, one that limited Kilian as much as Stephen. It felt loose, but no matter how hard he pulled, the metal would not pass his knuckle. If a dragon ate his hand, would the spell transfer to the dragon, remain attached to Kilian’s soul or dissipate altogether? That was a question for the ages.
“So what is the routine like around here?”
Stephen had gone back to his video game the second they returned to the apartment, but now he shot Kilian a look of disbelief. “Isn't that something you should have asked before you agreed to stay?”
“No. I asked about command structure and mission parameters. That's what matters. Base routine is something that you learn to navigate when you're in the Army. So, what's the routine like?” Kilian stuffed down a subtle fear of having to interact with the others on base. As long as the other soldiers were an unknown factor, he could hope they would accept him. He didn’t have to fear elbows in the mess line. However, if rumors had followed him up here, he knew that was unlikely and he would be better off avoiding isolated corners and dimly lit corridors. On the bright side, with a demon on base, less hate was likely to come Kilian’s way.
“The morning generally starts with exercise. The other soldiers love to call it PT, but I refuse. I didn’t volunteer for the Army, so uniforms and stupid lingo is on my verboten list.” He narrowed his eyes.
Kilian raised his hands in surrender. He could drop the slang. Hopefully. He had thought in military lingo so long that it might be difficult. Even when he’d been with Silas, he’d only been on leave as he developed his supernatural powers. After a few months, Silas had joined him on base, annoying superior officers and lazing about while Kilian was on missions, and training Kilian without mercy when he returned. But in the last ten years, Kilian had never been free of the Army and its love for acronyms.
“So exercise,” Stephen said. “After that, it's breakfast and then an hour of language lessons and then time walking and meditating with nature.” Stephen’s disgust for the last two came through.
“Nature? Does that mean that Mia was lying about us being in the Arctic Circle?” As a vamp, Kilian had trouble with blood circulation and cold. He would rather avoid the sluggish lethargy that caught him when the temperature dropped too low.
“No, but apparently going out into the wild and appreciating the glories of nature is supposed to somehow emotionally fortify me for my battle against the demon.” Stephen’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Well, don't you sound cynical.”
Stephen grinned. “Cynicism is my superpower.” When Stephen smiled, some of the deep lines around his mouth eased, and he became the boy Kilian had known.
