Night snapped the book closed, clearing his throat and swallowing compulsively. He caressed the cover before holding it out for Tarra. The Chosen smiled as she quietly took it from him and placed it in her lap. He sniffled and leaned his head back, blinking away the light-bending moisture in his eyes.
"Dad? Are you okay?" Ace asked, his voice quiet over the sounds of Last Meal.
Night coughed. "Yeah. I'm fine." He pretended that his words were true and tackled his food. He felt Ace eying him, knowing his lie was as transparent as plastic wrap.
"So... what's that book?" his son asked around a mouthful.
Tarra smiled at him sweetly. "It's the record of your sire's life."
"Really?" Ace's fork paused for a moment mid-air. "His whole life?"
"Well, not all in one volume. This is but one book. There are many, many more."
Night scowled. Being angry was easier than... whatever else he was trying to feel. "There shouldn't be any books at all."
"Technically," Lassiter raised a finger, "I believe being Forgotten included having your books removed from the library shelves. The curse doesn't specify that they be destroyed." He sipped his coffee as he wagged his eyebrows at Night.
I hate this guy, Night decided. "Yeah, well, it does specify that I am to be Forgotten. And yet," he made a grand gesture toward Lassiter, "here we are."
The angel nodded as he pushed his last bit of french toast through the pool of syrup on his plate. "True, true. But, you were forgotten. By many. In fact, by all," he nodded at Tarra and Ace, "except her, him, and Hatrhed. That seems pretty close to legal to me."
Night's brow furrowed. "Hatrhed? Who is that?"
Tarra paused, and Night knew her words would be important. "Hatrhed, also first known as Rhoze and then as Blade," was all she offered.
Night eyes opened wide. "Rhoze?"
Tarra nodded. "The Scribe Virgin allowed her to remember. She hasn't mentioned your name in decades."
Night clenched his jaw. "Was my name removed from the Wall, at least? Or was that left for the Brothers to point to whenever they needed an example of a—"
Tarra placed her cool hand on Night's arm. "Stop. I know where you are going with that, and it's time you stop."
He exhaled sharply, his anger short-circuited by her touch. No one had been able to do that to him except Fleur.
Fleur. The memory of her laughing green eyes jumped into his mind. He pulled away from Tarra, guilt settling on him. He hadn't deserved Fleur then, and he didn't deserve Tarra now. As if there were a chance, anyway.
Tarra sighed and resumed eating.
Ace swung his head from his sire to Tarra, Lassiter, and back. "Will someone please explain? What do you mean, 'Forgotten,' and what Brothers?"
"Wait. You didn't tell this one, either?" Lassiter asked, one brow arching in surprise. "Are you that stupid?"
Night narrowed his eyes before letting his fork clatter to the table and throwing his napkin on his plate. He stood, shoving back the chair hard enough that it threatened to go off-kilter. He stalked off, leaving the three of them behind.
Ace scrambled to follow him. "Dad! Wait! Talk to me."
Night grabbed the fireplace poker and stabbed at the logs of the dwindling fire, making room for the next two pieces of firewood. He felt Ace's stare on his back and heard him sink into the leather sofa behind him. He wasn't ready to face a second son leaving. He stood, leaned on the mantle, and rubbed his chest.
"You're remembering something," Ace noted. "You only rub your chest when you think about mahmen or the past. What is it?"
Night looked up and blinked, but there was no stopping the tears this time. He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, to no avail. He heaved a great shaky breath and gave in to quiet sobs, hanging his head as his great shoulders shook. Only a soft touch on his arm kept him from crumbling.
Tarra didn't try to soothe him or placate him. She merely bore witness to his heartbreak. The realization she had seen them all dawned on him in some part of his mind, but he was too lost for it to register. He drew another deep breath to calm himself, ran a hand down his face to wipe the moisture away, and pushed off the fireplace.
He was too ashamed to meet Ace's gaze, but he sat beside him. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and began.
"The Brothers are the Black Dagger Brotherhood. They are warriors that protect the race from our enemies."
Ace tucked himself further into his favorite comfy corner of the couch. "What enemies?"
"We don't have them here, but they are called lessers... human beings altered by evil to commit genocide against us. They are the greatest threat against us, save for the sun itself."
Lassiter opened his mouth to counter him, but Tarra shook her head. He shut his trap.
"So... you were a Black Dagger Brother? Before you were Forgotten?"
Night nodded, rubbing first his temple, then his chest.
"What else? There's more, isn't there?"
Night, brave male that he was didn't know if he had the courage for the conversation.
"Night? Do you want me to tell your story?" Tarra asked softly.
Night raised a hand and shook his head. "It's my story to tell. Just give me a minute." He focused on his breath, counting to ten, before raising his head and turning to Ace. "You—You have a brother. An older brother, who was born to your mahmen and me in the late 1800s." He let the info bomb sit as he searched his younger son's face.
He could only compare the expression on Ace's face to a deer, frozen and panicked in the headlights of a Night-sized vehicle, eyes wide and body stiff. He might have even forgotten to breathe. "A brother?"
"Yeah. His name is Rhetribution. We called him 'Rhet.'"
Ace unconsciously imitated his father by dragging a hand down his face. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I'm a coward."
"Night!" Tarra reproached.
He glanced at her, then went back to staring at his feet.
"I don't understand, dad. I mean, a brother! Where is he? How come we haven't ever visited him? Or had him come here?"
Night closed his eyes and let the words tumble. "Because he doesn't remember me. I want to keep it that way; my shame is too great."
"What shame? I don't understand."
Night spent several minutes explaining his failure to keep Wrath the Fair and Queen Anha safe from the lessers.
"Oh." Ace shifted, pulling a knee up to his chest. "Is that why you want to be Forgotten?"
"Yeah." A sigh heaved his shoulders as Ace looked on. "Someone will only remember me if they are around me. Or, I guess," he glanced at Tarra, " if they watch me or if the Scribe Virgin wills it. If we aren't together, I eventually fade from their memory."
"So, how come we can't just go and make Rhet remember?" Ace looked at Lassiter. "How come you can't make him remember?"
"I can't undo what the Scribe Virgin has done," the angel explained. "Though, I can manipulate things. Of course, it's possible that when Rhet sees Night, he will remember on his own."
A smile spread across Ace's face, hope blooming, as he leveled his gaze on his sire. "Well, let's go and find out! I want to know the rest of my family, dad."
Night heaved himself off the suede-covered softness to pace. "It's not that simple."
"Why not?" Lassiter asked. "Why isn't it that simple?"
Night whirled on him. "If you are really the Scribe Virgin's successor, you know why. More secrets than mine are at stake."
"Hatrhed has revealed herself," Lassiter explained. "She no longer has to hide from the Brothers."
Tarra chose her words with care, "After she ran, she was hidden from the Brotherhood by the Scribe Virgin until it was safe to reveal herself. The Brothers know of her now. She is, in fact, a Brother herself."
Night's jaw fell open. "A female Brother? Rhoze?"
The Chosen smiled. "It is now the next generation of Brothers, Night. They are, if barely, more progressive than yours."
Lassiter plopped down on the end of the sofa opposite Ace. He snapped, and an elegant carved chair appeared for Tarra. She nodded her thanks and perched on it.
Night sat in the sofa's matching chair so he didn't fall over. "Next generation." He stared at the floor; why it hadn't occurred to him that the Brotherhood would not remain as he once knew them was a mystery. It was naive of him.
"Okay, who is Hatrhed, and why did she have to hide?" Ace looked from Lassiter to Tarra and then finally at his sire.
Realizing that the room was waiting on him, Night glanced up at Ace. "Rhoze is your half-sister."
One... two... three... "Wait. I have a sister, too!"
"Yes. Rhoze is Fleur's daughter, born of Assail, a Brother until he was sent unto the Fade by another Brother, Aghony, during a rythe gone bad. Aghony helped Fleur raise Rhoze in penance."
"Aghony went on to have young of his own, Night," Tarra said. "They are Brothers in their own right, now."
A pang of jealousy echoed in Night. His sons would likely be Brothers, too, had he stayed. "He must be very proud," he stated with a rough voice.
"Aghony is dead," Lassiter dropped.
"Lassiter!" Tarra admonished before she caught herself. She bowed her head. "Forgive me, Lassiter. I meant no disrespect."
The angel waved it away. "None taken."
"Aghony is gone?" Night rubbed his chest.
Tarra tried to speak gently because she knew her words would not be. "Of your generation, Night," Tarra explained, "Only Wrath, Torhment, and Hatrhed remain."
"The rest?" Night's voice cracked. "The original Brothers are all gone?" The world went a little watery again.
Her face softened. "They are, Night. I am sorry. However, many of their sons, and in some cases, grandsons, continue."
The room fell silent, Night lost in his reverie, the others watching him but giving him emotional space.
Ace broke the silence. "Um... So, if I get this right, dad wanted to be Forgotten by the Brothers and Chosen centuries ago. Only Hatrhed of the Brothers and Tarra of the Chosen remember him? Well, and me, and I guess Lassiter. Right?"
Tarra inclined her head. "That is correct."
"Isn't that Forgotten enough?" Ace demanded of his father. "Can't we go and be with others like us? I want to meet Rhet and Hatrhed. I think I deserve to know my family." He crossed his arms.
Night opened his mouth to speak, but Lassiter cut him off, wagging his finger. "Don't say no."
He glared at the angel.
Lassiter, being Lassiter, tsked and rolled his eyes before unleashing his best don't-be-an-ass gaze on Night. "Yeah, you can hate me all you want, but you know that Mehnace will need help with his transition. He's coming with us. That's non-negotiable." He swung his feet to the floor and sat, leaning forward to place his forearms on his knees. "The question is, then, do you want to be Forgotten by yet another son?"
Night growled in frustration as he dragged himself from his chair to put more wear and tear on the rug before the fire. "No. Of course I don't."
"Well, then," Tarra chirped. "All you have to do is come with us!"
"I—"
Lassiter stood. "Do. Not. Say. No."
Night rankled but caught himself. He's right. I don't want to lose Ace, too. Maybe it's time. He sagged and gave in. "Okay."
"Okay?" Ace asked, sitting up straighter. "You'll go with me? So we can be a family?"
Night's heart swelled, looking at his son. He loved him more than he could express in words. But, even as his heart filled with love, it also broke. Will Rhet forgive me so easily? He took a deep breath.
"Yes. I will return."