It was a clear dismissal, and Viktor was grateful for it. The last thing he wanted was to have to play nice for an entire evening – there was no way he could hold his temper that long. He stood, and Ant rose beside him, Able getting to his feet as well.
They left the dining hall in silence, walking back through the corridors until they reached their suite. Viktor locked the door behind them and let out a long breath.
“That was the worst fucking dinner I’ve ever attended,” he said. “And I once had dinner with a vampire who ate live rats at the table.”
“It was strategically productive,” Ant said, kneeling to remove Able’s harness. “Claudius revealed significant informationabout his psychological state and his concerns regarding the investigation.”
Viktor crossed to where Ant knelt and pulled him up into a fierce kiss. “You were amazing. Watching you dismantle his arguments with pure logic…”
“I simply followed his reasoning to its natural conclusions.”
“You made him look like an idiot - again.” Viktor cupped Ant’s face. “He’s going to be furious.”
“Good,” Ant said. “Angry people make mistakes.”
Viktor dropped a quick kiss on Ant’s forehead and then chuckled as Able nudged against his pants pocket. “Yes, I got some of that roast meat for you, too,” he said, letting go of Ant and reaching into his pocket and pulling out the napkin. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find a way to carry the gravy boat as well. That meat was damn dry and severely overcooked.”
Chapter Nine
Able took the meat delicately, tail wagging as he settled near the bed to eat. Ant watched his beloved companion for a moment, then turned his attention to the connecting door that led to Ronald Finch’s final resting place.
“He’s stalling,” Ant said.
Viktor’s head snapped toward him. “What?”
“Claudius. Did you notice he didn’t ask us once about what we thought about the grounds? And then, just as we decide to do the reading, Nathaniel is at the door, telling us we have to present ourselves for dinner. Even the ‘formal attire’ aspect was designed to make us feel small, because he’d assumed we wouldn’t have packed something like that for a short trip.”
“That’s typical Claudius,” Viktor grumbled.
“You’d know that more than I would. But the dinner itself, the way it was staged, even the conversation was all designed to be intimidating.”
Viktor snorted. “Yeah, with the whole coven there to witness his apparent authority. That didn’t work out for him.”
Ant walked to the window, noting how the wards pulsed against the glass. “He’s hoping we’ll leave before morning - that the hostile environment will erode my confidence or that you’ll convince me to abandon the investigation.”
“I have been hoping you’ll abandon the investigation, but it isn’t working.”
“No.”
Viktor moved behind him, and Ant leaned back into the solid warmth of his mate’s chest. “Then we just need to get through the night, do the reading, and then get the hell out of here. I don’t want you here a moment longer than necessary.”
“The reading tomorrow will be difficult,” Ant said quietly. He turned to face Viktor. “I need to prepare you for that.”
“I’ve seen you do scene readings before.”
“Not like this one.” Ant gestured toward the connecting door. “The ambient magic here is so unbelievably chaotic, and I can’t determine what impact that might have. Death, by its very nature, is violent, and the combination of the wards and the manner of death could amplify the vision I know I’ll have. Likely more than anything you’ve witnessed so far.”
Viktor’s jaw tightened. “How bad?”
“I’m not sure.” Ant appreciated that Viktor didn’t try to sugarcoat the situation, and he wouldn’t, either. “If we had the means, I would contact Doctor Pike, but as that’s not possible, I’m going to have to adapt according to whatever I find once I go into the vision.
“There are various anecdotal studies done through the Academy, from mages who’ve worked in locations with heavy residual trauma describing how the strong negative energies - for the want of another way to describe it - can impact the mage’s reading. It is possible, although extremely rare, that the vision could bleed into other senses.”
“What will that mean for you?” Ant didn’t need their bond to know Viktor wasn’t happy about that - but then, to be fair, he hadn’t been happy since Ant took the job.
“As it hasn’t happened to me before, I can’t say for sure. But past mages have documented incidences where they might actually smell the blood or feel temperature changes, and in one notable case, the mage could hear sounds that should’ve been beyond regular hearing.”
“Fuck.”
