Chapter Text
Daniel and Armand accompany Jesse to the Talamasca motherhouse. They study the red brick edifice from a reasonable distance, keeping to the shadows behind Jesse as they skirt the grounds. Lights glow in the upper story windows. Jesse presses them to sit beneath an oak.
The lower floors look dark, Armand projects into Jesse’s mind, and Jesse leaves their thoughts unguarded enough for Daniel’s perusal. I would’ve imagined at least a few stubborn scholars burning the midnight oil in the…library? Libraries? Rooms and rooms of books.
Those rooms at the top are individual quarters, from what I remember, Jesse replies. If Raglan is here now, then he occupies one of those.
I don’t sense the bastard anywhere on the grounds, Daniel admits, exchanging frustrated glances with Armand. Maybe he can conceal himself.
We’re closed off to them, so why not them to us? Armand points out. Which is…admittedly dangerous. We’d likely be relying on sight.
Jesse nods, drawing their knees to their chest in the frost-glazed grass. You won’t want to be here every night. Petronia and Arion can take shifts.
If they assent to that, Daniel thinks morosely. We’re already taxing them constantly at home. Maybe Armand and I will need to do this.
No, beloved, Armand insists stubbornly. You shouldn’t be out here alone. I won’t bear it.
Then we do it together a few nights a week and call that good enough? Daniel retorts.
Arion would probably alternate with you guys if you asked him, Jesse replies. You need to be prepared for the possibility that Raglan won’t venture out except during daylight. Before you say anything, Mom, I don’t think pulling eight hour days in the sun alone is reasonable.
Armand shrugs, his eyes catching the reflection of those windows. Daniel won’t rest easy until this threat is behind us. I could manage—
You could, but I won’t let you, Daniel insists, curling his hand around Armand’s in his lap. We do a few night shifts a week and hope we get lucky.
Quit bickering, Jesse says, soundlessly getting to their feet. We should head back and talk this over with everyone else. Granted, maybe Sam gave us permission to do this because he knows how unlikely we are to succeed if Raglan doesn’t leave the house after dark.
Daniel is mad at Sam if that’s the case, but it’s a breathtaking night, and there’s scant light pollution. He walks with Armand a few steps behind Jesse, his left hand in his own pocket and his right tucked inside Armand’s with those long fingers curled around his.
“Do you remember our telescope?” Armand asks. “You wanted one after that rooftop party in New York where you made me swear off…” He makes a cutting gesture across his neck, and then points to Jesse just ahead of them. “I regret not getting one sooner.”
“Eh, as move-in gifts go, I thought it was pretty good. That had to have been 1980. You must have it in a closet somewhere on Night Island,” Daniel replies. “Unless you threw that off the pier, too, after the breakup. Don’t think you’d find it if you went diving again.”
Jesse pivots to face them, walking backward. Their expression is pensive, and not happily so, either. “Is it normal for vampire companions to break up and get back together multiple times over…decades, centuries? If Louis and Lestat, and you guys, are any indication…”
“Petronia and Arion don’t strike me as the type who’d do that, but what do I know?” Daniel asks, shrugging. “They’ve been together for thousands of years. I’d be amazed if they haven’t had a fight or two for the ages. Louis and Lestat have one of those behind ’em. So do we.”
“I won’t fight with you again, my darling,” Armand warns Daniel with a hint of laughter in his voice. “You’re stuck with me this time.”
Jesse rolls their eyes, falling into step with Daniel on the sidewalk. “What about you?”
“Yeah, I’m with Armand on this,” Daniel sighs. “We’re too old for another divorce.”
“You’ve had like…four or five of them between the two of you? One from each other?”
Armand nods in agreement, squeezing Daniel’s hand inside the pocket of his long, black wool coat. “We were happy until we weren’t.”
“If you turn out to be capable of Armand-style mindfuckery, promise me you won’t use it on Ricky,” Daniel says gravely. “Not fun.”
“Or on Paige,” Armand says without hesitation. “There’s no telling what might happen, is there? You and Ricky have gotten close to her. Grown fond of her. Don’t discount the possibility that the two of you may think of her as more in time. I’ve seen how vampire-mortal relationships tend to play out one-on-one, but never when it’s a pair of vampires and a mortal, or…” He frowns, his eyes distant. “I’d be uneasy about it.”
Daniel wishes he could dismiss Armand’s anxieties out of hand, but Jesse has fallen silent and made no move to tell Armand that he’s talking out of his ass. He’s never known Ellie or Paige to have more than one partner at a time. He’d be willing to bet his and Armand’s fortune that relationship multitasking isn’t a Molloy specialty. Be that as it may, the fledglings and Paige have been one surprise after another.
“So would I,” Jesse concludes, belatedly agreeing with Armand. “I’d never consent to that unless Paige was also…” They shrug.
“Even if Paige were to ask you or Ricky to turn her, neither one of you will be strong enough until Paige is…what, eighty years old?” Daniel asks, although he for sure deserves Armand’s half-swallowed laughter. “Yeah, okay, so old people don’t make half bad vamps.”
“Seventy is hardly old for a human these days, you know that,” Armand argues.
“Maybe let’s stop talking about Paige like it’s a foregone conclusion for her,” Jesse says quietly. “Maybe she’ll want to live a life. It’s fine.”
The only part that isn’t fine is the thought that hangs between the three of them thin as gossamer. Under those conditions, they’ll lose Paige eventually. If Daniel isn’t ready to face it, then the rest of them probably aren’t, either. Fuck Raglan James for threatening Paige.
Once they’re home, Armand sends Jesse inside the house where gambling lessons—both the rules of various games and how best to apply the Mind Gift in those contexts—continue apace. Daniel doesn’t protest when Armand flies him to the roof so they can stargaze.
“If we get out of here without everything going to hell,” Daniel sighs, leaning his head on Armand’s shoulder, “let’s find the telescope in Miami and take it home to New York. Nobody’s putting the roof of my building to decent use as it is. We had fun with that shit, didn’t we?”
“We had fun with everything,” Armand murmurs, lacing their fingers over his heart.
Nearly three weeks pass without incident, including on the Talamasca stakeout front. Daniel and Armand settle into a rotation with Petronia and Arion; usually, it’s Petronia alone or Arion alone, but every third night, it’s Daniel and Armand up the branches of that oak. Absolutely nothing happens. Not only does Raglan not leave the motherhouse, but neither does anyone else. Daniel is starting to think that the threat is empty.
Curious parties from Polidori start dropping by to take a look around the Holme. First it’s Kira and Finn, the androgynous bartenders over whom Rashid has a supervisory gossip and intel gathering role. Daniel gives them a tour of the grounds and decides that he likes them. Not everyone is as high drama Louis and Lestat, or even as he and Armand. With those fuckers who launched the attack in January gone, Daniel’s impression of British vampires is that they like their pint-laced blood and their mundane hobbies.
And then, on the night of March 14th turning over to March 15th, the visitors are Sam and Rashid themselves. Petronia and Arion agree to hold down the fort at Polidori for a few hours in Sam’s absence, because heaven knows the guy doesn’t get out that often.
“That’s just ridiculous,” Sam says, watching Ricky and Jesse play a fast and brutal match on the tennis court. “Truly, what a world we’re undead in if we’re fast heading toward the first Vampire Olympics,” he jests, elbowing Rashid. “Do you fancy a match? I don’t even know how.”
“No,” Rashid says politely, and Daniel can’t help but think he seems distracted. As soon as Jesse and Ricky stop what they’re doing to argue back and forth about whether or not Jesse’s most recent shot counts as a point, he wanders back toward the house by a few yards.
“Where’s Her Majesty and Paige this fine evening?” Sam asks Daniel. “Haven’t seen hide, nor hair of either of ’em since we got here.” He rubs his nose thoughtfully. “Don’t suppose I ought to float that honorific instead of maître, do you? Being queen bee suits him.”
“Armand and Paige are inside putting together the new telescope,” Daniel says. “Dunno, but I can’t wait to see his face the first time you…”
Rashid darts back to them lightning-quick, wearing a disconcerted expression. “The circular drive beyond the hedge,” he says. “Sam, it’s him.”
The timing of what happens next is tragic; it feels inevitable. Armand approaches from the direction of the house, an instruction manual in hand. Daniel watches the amused expression on his face turn to horror when he realizes Paige isn’t on the tennis court.
“Armand!” Daniel shouts, but they’re both already tearing off in the direction of Rashid’s nameless threat. No, not so nameless. Who’d know the psychic signature of a rogue Talamasca agent better than the former Talamasca agent who’d been tasked with babysitting Daniel over sushi?
Armand puts himself between Daniel and the man who has a firearm with a silencer pressed between Paige’s ribs. “What movement can you possibly make that’s faster than I am,” he says in a low, threatening voice. Hearing him speak, Paige opens her eyes and exhales.
“I’ve given you every opportunity to come clean with me, Mr. Molloy,” says Raglan James, ignoring Armand outright. “Last chance.”
Freeze this shit, Daniel projects into Paige’s mind for Armand to hear. Shut it down.
Several things happen in the same split-second, none of which go according to plan. Armand freezes everything in their immediate vicinity except, presumably, for Paige and Daniel. The leaves of the hedgerow and the branches of the trees overhead come to a standstill.
However, Raglan James does not. Whatever training a Talamasca agent of his years and experience receives, it covers resisting this trick.
Armand is so shocked at this twist that it gives Raglan enough time to pull the trigger.
“Time’s up, asshole,” Daniel hisses, and whatever else Raglan can do, he can’t run faster than it takes Daniel to pin him to the pavement.
So much for sharing. As Daniel drains Raglan, there’s a rustle in the background as this pocket of the world is released from its eerie stillness.
“Daniel, stop,” Armand says, his voice distant and soft. “Daniel, we need…”
Daniel backs away from the body lying flat on the pavement. He crawls onto the sidewalk where Armand kneels over Paige, his eyes bright, pale apricot and strangely calm even as Paige heaves for breath. Doesn’t take a doctor to see she’s bleeding out. All it takes is a vampire.
“No,” Daniel says. He reaches for Paige and can’t bring himself to touch her. “No.” His face is streaked with Raglan’s blood and his own tears.
“Just watch the stars,” Armand tells Paige, and then reaches toward Daniel. He carefully takes Paige in his arms, indicating that Daniel should touch her, too. “It won’t take long,” Armand continues as Paige’s eyes flutter. “Your father is right here.”
Daniel scoots close enough to slide an arm behind Paige’s head, curling it around Armand’s shoulder so that his hand rests at Armand’s nape. He clutches one of Paige’s hands against her chest, startled when she finds the strength to grasp his with both of her own.
“Sorry, Dad,” Paige mumbles thickly, almost smiling as the light in her eyes begins to fade. “I want to die. Want to live. Whichever.”
“Armand,” Daniel whispers, his vision swimming—red, everywhere red—as he meets Armand’s gaze. “I can’t ask you to do this. I can’t—”
“You need not ask, beloved,” Armand says, lowering his head to Paige’s neck, his fangs bared. “She’s part of you. Part of you, my only.”
“Please,” Paige rasps, clutching Daniel’s hand so tightly it almost hurts. “Dad.”
“Hold on, sweetie,” Daniel says as Armand sinks his precise, delicate fangs in her neck and begins to drink. “There’s Orion, see? And there, to the right? The Pleiades. That story, it was…not one of mine, but you loved it. Sisters turned first into doves, and then into stars.” He draws a shuddering breath, watching Paige’s eyes open wide even as she waxes deathly pale. “You’ll shine brightest of them all. Hold on.”
Watching the process is agony. Daniel had been so awash in recovered memories during his own turning that he’d scarcely registered the pain. Paige doesn’t scream, but she whimpers and squeezes Daniel’s hand until her eyes slip shut and her hands fall slack.
Armand disengages from her neck, his expression grave and intent. He gestures at the punctures before tearing into his own wrist; Daniel understands. Armand presses his wrist to Paige’s mouth, watching Daniel tear into his wrist, too, and heal the wounds in her neck.
“You will take,” Armand says through gritted teeth, his fangs retracting, as if he’s trying to convince himself. He’s never more beautiful than when he has blood on his face, Daniel realizes. This blood, their blood. “That’s right, darling. You must drink.”
Daniel watches the color return to Paige’s cheeks. Marvels at the sudden kick of her heartbeat beneath his palm, stronger than before. Realizes she’s clutching his hand again, her grasp growing strong again with each rise and fall of her chest. And her eyes, her eyes—
Paige opens her eyes wide, gazing up at Daniel first, and then Armand. Her irises are the color of lilacs, ringed with ink-dark indigo.
Armand eases his wrist away from Paige’s mouth after a few more minutes, relieved, but his features are pinched and wan. He closes his eyes as Daniel takes hold of his hand, brings it up to his mouth, and heals Armand’s wounds with a swipe of his bloodied tongue.
Paige sits up between them with a start, both hands pressed to her chest. She stares at the vacant street, the hedgerows and street lamps, as if there’s so much beauty to take in she might weep. She stares across the water, across the park, realizing how close to home they are.
Armand scoots back from her, looking so exhausted he might collapse. He reaches for Daniel behind Paige’s back while she sits intently studying her hands, so Daniel crawls to him and takes him in his arms. They have a body to dispose of, but it’s the least of their concerns.
“Twice,” Daniel gasps through fresh tears, clinging to him so tightly. “Twice now, you’ve broken a vow to yourself because of me.”
“What good is that vow, my love, if it can’t change to encompass what we are,” Armand replies, reverent. “It becomes a vow to us, to our blood. I must keep it.” He takes a shuddering breath. “If I had let her die, I would’ve committed the gravest offense from my past a second time, which…” Armand buries his face against Daniel’s shoulder with a sob. “I could have prevented it then, but I didn’t! And so I’ve prevented it now!”
Daniel just holds him. For Armand, letting his present companion’s daughter die would’ve felt no different than actively killing his past companion’s daughter now feels. This is how breaking a vow becomes atonement. This is how Daniel knows the worst in him hasn’t won.
“Oh, look,” Paige says, staggering to her feet even though Daniel can tell she’s been seized by nausea and tremors. “The sky, just look.”
“I’m looking, baby,” Daniel replies, his lips pressed to Armand’s blood-streaked temple in gratitude and devotion. “I’m looking.”