Chapter Twenty-Three 8 page

“Did it work?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, cupping the back of my neck in her hand. She drew my mouth to hers. “Yes, it worked.”

“Good,” I said. “That is good.” In the back of my mind I sensed the rising sun, like the promise of a dreaded heat against my skin.

“The sun is about to rise.”

Renata wrapped her arms around me and I settled in against the gentle curves of her body, a welcomed respite. “I know.”

While she held me, I awaited death. Dying at dawn was not like waking when the moon rises. It was at once more intense and less intense. What I could only describe as an invisible force began to seep into every corner of the room, building and waiting like a serpent for the right moment to strike. It was nothing to see with the eyes, but with the soul. That unseen force stretched and grew like a great dragon unfurling from its sleep. The energy rose and I had a moment to brace myself, a moment to will my body to submission, before that invisible dragon slammed into me. It hit, and like falling from a great height, knocked the life from my lungs, my body. In such a moment, one does not think that the world is going black. One does not have time to think.

Chapter Fifteen

A dancing light sprang to life in what seemed like an infinite darkness. The darkness did not scare me. An orange and white glow flickered, casting a halo of light that aroused my curiosity. The light wavered and spoke my name. Intrigued, I moved toward the light. The edges of the flame burned black. The flame stretched and reshaped itself until the outline of a glowing orange fox took form.

Cuinn? I wondered.

Aye, it is I.

Cuinn moved and it was as if he had swallowed a bright orange sunset, but this sunset was dim enough that it did not hurt my eyes. The orange glow surrounding his aura illuminated the endless dark.

Ye must rise, Epiphany.

Rise? I asked.

Aye, he said, there isn’t much time. Ye need to wake!

Wake? I asked, wondering again what the little fox was up to.

Cuinn lowered his furred body to the ground and leapt at me. His paws hit my chest and I was falling, falling in that vast darkness, falling so fast that my stomach lurched.

I woke, bolting upright, clutching my stomach against the pain and dizziness.

I felt the soft sheets against my nude body. Renata’s chamber. The thought made me turn and look for her. She laid beside me, beautiful in her death.

“Cuinn,” I whispered his name aloud as the panic squeezed my chest like a vice. “Cuinn, what have you done?”

I felt the threat of sunlight hanging unseen over my head.

We need to wake your Queen.

Why, Cuinn? The sun is still up! Why did you wake me?

Stop!

I froze, clutching the sheet to my body in a trembling grip.

I will explain, but there is not time. Ye need to wake your Queen and ye can only do that with me in your hands. Get up; get the sword.

The thread of urgency in his voice made me scramble from the bed, but it was dark and though I could see shapes, I could not make out where Vasco had last left the sword.

A flash of silver and amber light burned and then dimmed. I went to the armoire and found that the soft glow was that of the sword. The sword was glowing.

Why is it glowing? I hesitated in picking it up.

’Cause ye summoned it with your thoughts. Take it, Epiphany. We haven’t much time. Again, his soft voice was filled with urgency and something close to panic. Somehow, Cuinn panicking didn’t seem to bode well. I let go of my questions and grasped the sword.

How do I wake her, and promise me, Cuinn, give me your oath that you have a very good reason for this.

Ye have my most solemn oath that I’ve a very good reason. You’ve only to prick yourself with the sword and offer your blood to your Queen.

I pressed the tip of my index finger against the sharpened point and hissed as it broke the skin more quickly and easily than I had expected. A tiny drop of blood welled and I squeezed, forcing more of the red richness from the nick.

Offer how? I asked.

Put it against her lips.

I touched the silken flesh of her bottom lip, tentatively smearing the blood across the bowed crevice of her mouth. Nothing happened.

She has to taste it!

I put the sword down long enough to clutch the soft angled line of her jaw in one hand. I used my fingers to part her lips, squeezing the blood out. A drop spattered across her perfectly white teeth, and still nothing happened.

“Shite.” I grabbed the sword, raising its tip to my face. I didn’t think about the fact that there would be pain involved. I merely acted, bringing the blade to my mouth. I tucked the tip of my tongue against the back of my bottom teeth and drew the metal tip across the flat part of my tongue. It stung, immediate and fierce. I covered my mouth with a hand and fought against every instinct in me not to swallow the blood.

I pried Renata’s lower jaw open and kissed her. I forced my injured tongue between her teeth, sliding it over the cool velvet of her. I pushed my blood inside her.

A slight intake of air sounded and I made to draw away. Renata made a sound low in her throat, catching the back of my head with her hand. She held me against her, feeding at my mouth. There was no skill to it, no contained passion. The kiss was wild and reckless, driven only by the taste of my blood and her desire for more of it.

I tensed and Renata felt my resistance, pressing her lips against mine as if she would weld our mouths together by the sheer force of her kiss. I opened wider to avoid being injured further.

She shoved her tongue toward the back of my mouth and I pushed at her shoulders, trying to get her to ease up a little. She didn’t and so I pushed into the kiss, using my own strength to drive her back against the pillows.

Under other circumstances, a kiss like that probably would’ve driven me mad with desire. Having just risen to the call of my blood, she was not yet herself. Though I too am vampire and it is unlikely that she could wound me so severely with her own body that I could not heal it, I felt her desire and shuddered against the shadows there.

In her bloodlust, she wanted to consume me in ways that had nothing to do with conscious thought and everything to do with animalistic force.

A lash of power hit my body like a fiery whip. I broke the kiss, hissing against the pain.

We do not have time for this! Cuinn’s words rang inside my head like some great bell.

I watched Renata battle her own bloodlust.

“Epiphany,” she said. It was the first time I had ever heard her voice wrought with uncertainty. “What happened?”

I sat back on my heels as she sat up. She glanced around the room and I realized that she wasn’t just looking around the room. She was scanning it, searching for a potential threat. If I could feel that the sun hung heavy in the sky, then so could Renata. She was my creator, my Queen and Siren, and far more powerful and sensitive to such things.

“Why am I awake, Epiphany?” There was something suspicious in the look she gave me. The flicker of a thought crossed my mind that I could try to read her, but I didn’t. Cuinn had said we didn’t have time. Whatever he had woken us for, it was not to sit and chat.

I stood from the bed, thinking to find clothes. I went to Renata’s closet, opening the wide doors.

“Cuinn woke me. I do not know why, exactly, as he has not yet explained himself. Whatever it is, he felt it was pertinent that I use the fox blade to wake you.”

“You used the sword?”

“Yes,” I said stepping into the closet that was the size of a small bedroom. I heard the rustle of the sheets a second before Renata appeared in the doorway.

“Some of your clothes are in that chest.” She dipped her head in the direction of a chest that was tucked neatly into a corner. It did not surprise me that she still had some of my clothes. When she had disowned me as her pet I had only received the dresses and clothes that she had decided to return. Why she’d kept some of them, I could not say. I raised the latch and opened the lid to find a crimson dress neatly folded on top of the pile. I picked up the heavy material, running a fold through my hands.

We do not have time, Cuinn said again, but this time, as if he shared my memory and moment of melancholy, his voice held sympathy.

I felt Renata watching me from the doorway.

Cuinn, I thought, setting the dress aside and finding a knee-length black tunic to slip into, if I have time to dress then you’ve got time to explain. I found a pair of gray trousers that were a few shades lighter than the tunic and pulled them on, lacing the ties over my hips. I made to move past Renata, when she caught my elbow and started to speak, but what she said clashed with Cuinn’s voice in my mind. I had a moment to hear her say “Why” before Cuinn chimed in with, There are ancient magics at work.

I raised my hands. “Wait,” I said to Renata, “one at a time. Cuinn is explaining.” I said aloud, “Finish, Cuinn. I heard ancient magics. What about them?”

Someone in your clan has summoned something, Epiphany.

Are you sure?

Aye.

How are you sure?

I sensed magic…dark and ancient.

Do you know what it is?

Behind my eyelids, I saw Cuinn give a shake of his head.

Nay, I cannot tell from so far away.

I looked up at Renata and said, “You should dress. I’ll explain then, but whatever it is that Cuinn is sensing scares him.”

Renata went very still. “I may not trust the spirit, but I will trust your judgment, Epiphany.”

“Why else would Cuinn wake us?” I asked. “He is bound to protect me, is he not?”

She gave me an incredulous look. “One does not know how deep the binding goes with fox spirits.”

“I remember, but I sense his fear, Renata, and it’s genuine.”

She went to dress. I laced my boots and retrieved the fox blade.

I heard something then. The sound was faint, as if it had come from somewhere deeper down the labyrinth of halls. It came again, an inaudible whisper like a breeze in the night.

Renata emerged from the closet, her dark brows drawn together and head tilted.

“Did you hear that?”

“Yes,” I said.

“There is no wind here. There should be no sound whatsoever in the Sotto other than that of the Donatore and their Watchers.”

She was right. Nothing in the Sotto should’ve been alive during the day to make a noise as strange as that.

If what Cuinn had said was true, and it seemed it was, something or someone was out there. Did that mean that he was also telling the truth about something dark and ancient summoned? I closed my eyes.

If ye combine your energy with mine, we can see what it is.

I was about to think my answer when Cuinn showed me that he was not going to give me the time to frame a mental reply.

The force of his energy hit me and I staggered, feeling the vague sense of falling. I felt Renata catch me at the elbow before the room fell away. The gray stone of the hallway came into view. We were running, running the hall on four paws, feeling the invisible wind raise and carry our tail high behind us. We rounded a corner, following the breeze of power and a cold, cold energy.

At first, I couldn’t make sense of the shape at the end of the hallway. It appeared to be an incredibly tall human. From Cuinn’s height it was hard to guess exactly, but the cloaked figure must’ve been around seven feet tall. The figure moved, stepping into a spill of torchlight. The torchlight caught the glossy surface of its cloak, making it appear like black leather. A spur graced each slim shoulder. The figure turned and I realized it was no incredibly tall human. The cloak was actually thick wings that the creature had enfolded around its body. Two elongated black ears swiveled, and a mouth that was more feline than anything else I could compare it to, opened. The creature hissed, flicking a red ribbon of a tongue out from between very sharp upper and lower canines.

That much, I saw before I came back to myself on Renata’s floor. My head was resting in her lap and she touched my forehead with gentle fingers. I moved, getting to my feet.

“Epiphany, what is it?”

The fox blade was still in my hand. “I don’t know. Someone summoned a…” I hesitated to call it a demon. But if it wasn’t a demon, what was it? “A demon…”

“That is not possible.”

“Apparently, it is,” I said, “because I just saw it.”

She grabbed a handful of my hair and jerked me down to my knees. Her eyes were wide with fear. “Do you understand what you are telling me, Epiphany? Do you comprehend what you are saying? If someone in the Sotto has summoned anything, they have to be awake to summon it.”

I spoke through gritted teeth. “Yes, I understand that. Renata, let me go.”

She didn’t. “Why? What are you going to do?”

I licked my lips. What was I going to do? I hadn’t thought about that. What would Vasco have done? The thought made me think of him.

“Renata,” I said, swallowing, suddenly horrified. “Vasco. I have to check on him.”

“If he were truly dead I would sense it, Epiphany.”

“The sun is up. You cannot sense the death if one is already dead.”

Her grip tightened harshly, making my scalp ache. “I would sense it.”

She has not sensed the other.

You know for a fact it has killed?

I see more than ye, Cuinn said. It has devoured the life energy of its prey.

I met Renata’s gaze and held it. “You can’t sense them die if they’re already dead during the day. Whoever conjured the beast did so for a reason. More than likely, just to kill us, but they are being clever. Think about it.”

She let me go, her rich lashes fluttering. “If what you say is true then they summoned it during the day for that reason alone, that I would not sense their deaths.”

“Yes. Renata, we don’t have time and you don’t have guards.” I left the room before she could stop me, heading toward the hall at a full out run. As I left the shelter of her bedroom, I felt her dread and worry like a dart in my side. Cuinn, understanding me, was silent.

Would she follow? Undoubtedly, but I didn’t wait to see and she didn’t stop me.

*

I reached the hall where Cuinn and I had last seen the creature. I rounded the corner and held the sword aloft in a two-handed grip.

“Stop.”

The creature’s clawed hand paused in mid-motion where it reached for the door handle. The wide curve of its ears swiveled in what I sensed was irritation. A spaded tail swept the floor as it turned to face me.

Its eyes were angular and seemed large set in a feline-like face. I saw myself reflected in black mirrors. The creature had no irises to speak of.

The creature, caught somewhere between human, feline, and bat, spoke in a voice that was atrociously slow and lingering.

“You ssshould be sssleeping, vampire.”

Epiphany, Cuinn said, back up slowly.

I took a very slow step back, but thought to ask, Why?

Ye do not want to know. Trust me on that.

Cuinn…

The creature tilted its massive head.

It took a step forward on its bowed leg. I brought the sword up between us, pointing it at the demon. “Stop,” I said again.

Onyx eyes blinked and lowered to the sword’s point. A ripple of anger rolled through the demon’s cold energy, making it seem warm for an instant.

“You dare to challenge me, dessscendant?”

“No.” It was Renata’s voice that made me turn my head. She strode toward us in a dress of black velvet, her hair still matted with blood.

She sank to her knees in the stone hallway.

I had never, in my entire existence seen the Queen kneel, to anyone or anything. She took in the creature’s face for the briefest moment, before she lowered her gaze in a gesture of respect. A gesture most reserved for her.

In that one move, Renata acknowledged the creature as someone of higher status than herself. I did not understand it.

“The lassst thing I expected to sssee from you half-breedsss isss ressspect.”

“I know what you are,” she said, “Epiphany does not.”

The demon-creature turned the full weight of its dense stare back to me.

“Eeepiphanyyy,” it said, carefully enunciating each syllable, “that isss what you are called?”

I sank to my knees. If showing respect would keep the creature from killing any of us, then I would do it for survival’s sake. I averted my eyes, not because I was acknowledging its status above Renata, but because the endless black pools were utterly unnerving.

“Yes.”

“You do not know what I am?”

I opened my mouth to say, “demon,” and Cuinn’s voice blared through my mind, Do not call it that!

I closed my mouth and tried truth instead. “No, I do not know what you are.”

I sensed more than saw the creature’s attention return to Renata.

“You do not teach them their hissstory?”

“Only the Eldest of us know. It has been long since your kind walked among us.”

“Thisss isss true,” the creature said in a voice that was almost thoughtful. “Tell your daughter what I am. Name me, vampire.”

The fact that it had called me daughter meant that it knew Renata was my Siren. I wondered if the demon was capable of telling such a thing just by looking at us.

“You are one of the Great Sires.”

“That isss not my name,” the creature’s voice hissed like nails on glass. “I sssaid name me, vampire.”

“It is not wise to speak your name.”

The creature’s long obsidian tail swept the floor in agitation. The spaded tip hit the wall with a heavy thump.

“Fairy talesss,” it said, hissing. “Name me!”

I turned just in time to see Renata’s head jerk upright. Her eyes blazed with power, like the deepest ocean and clearest summer sky meeting and melding.

“You are Dracule.”

A spurt of satisfaction emitted from the dark being.

“Wasss that ssso hard?”

“Who summoned you, Great Sire?”

The creature was silent. I used the silence to my advantage.

Cuinn, do you know what the Dracule are?

Aye.

Tell me.

“Firssst, tell your daughter what I am.”

A distant relative. Your Queen will explain.

Renata sat back on her heels, looking for all the world like she was relaxed, but I sensed the tension coming off her.

“The Dracule are our Sires, Epiphany. They are the oldest of our kind.”

“It’s a vampire?” I asked.

“It’sss?” the creature hissed, taking a threatening step toward me. “You call me an it’sss?”

I realized that, for the first time in two centuries, I’d made one of the biggest political blunders I could’ve ever made at what was more than likely the most inopportune of moments.

My pulse leapt fiercely. I bowed my head.

“I meant no offense, Great Dracule.”

I heard its tongue flick out, tasting the air. “You ssspeak truth, but there isss more.”

“I did not mean to insult you.” I sank a little lower into the bow, curving my body toward the floor. “Simply, instead of saying he or she, as I am not certain of your gender, I defaulted to it’s. I give you my sincerest apologies and beg your forgiveness.”

The creature made a sound somewhere between a hiss and grunt. It took a moment for me to realize that it was laughing.

“Would you like to sssee, vampire?”

I bolted upright. “What?”

The creature was walking toward me on its gracefully arched legs. The claws of its talon-like feet appeared very sharp indeed. I forced myself not to fidget or move away.

The Dracule stopped in front of me, leaving an arm’s length of a space between us. I did not like that it had moved so close.

“Would you like to sssee?”

If ye want to win its favor, say aye.

I wasn’t entirely sure what I was saying yes to and prayed Cuinn had not led me astray.

“Yes.”

One furred black shoulder raised. The leathery wing drew aside like a curtain. The creature turned its face to Renata and hissed.

“I did not sssay you could sssee.”

I watched as Renata casually averted her gaze.

The Dracule spoke my name, calling my attention back to it. I sat on my heels, refusing to look away, refusing to allow myself to give in to the fear that sent my heart drumming against my ribcage. The other leathery wing rose and was drawn aside to reveal a surprisingly sleek and elegant body.

In truth, the Dracule were not such hideous things. They were a wild beauty, yes, and perhaps some would think them the things of nightmares, but as I looked at the Dracule, I did not see something that was monstrous.

The Dracule’s body was covered in shiny black fur. The fur glistened like silk and looked soft to the touch in the flickering torchlight. My eyes dropped from a slim neck to the two mounds at its chest. It was hard to tell through the fur, but I was fairly certain the mounds were breasts. I looked lower, past the flat plains of a stomach, over the arched curve of its hips, and to the slope below.

There, at the Dracule’s groin, was a small furry node of flesh. It did not look male, though it did not look entirely female, either.

The Dracule ran an almost human hand down its stomach, lightly touching the top of the fur between its thighs. As it had five fingers and opposable thumbs, it was almost human. The sharp silver claws that unsheathed from the tips of those fingers were terribly contrary to human.

“You wonder what thisss isss?” the Dracule asked.

“Yes,” I said, hastily adding, “Forgive my ignorance.”

The Dracule sheathed its claws in a soundless move. It parted its legs slightly and pressed two fingers to the base of the little mound.

“It isss like yoursss, only more.”

Does that mean it’s female?

Aye, Cuinn said, sounding amused. ‘T is a girl.

I held the Dracule’s bottomless gaze and tried not to show the awkwardness I felt in regard to the situation. Beneath the awkwardness, I admit, was a fine thread of curiosity that I also tried not to reveal, having no idea what effect it would have on her.

“Thank you, Dracule,” I murmured, inclining my head respectfully. “I do appreciate your forthrightness.”

It was hard to tell by looking at her, but I sensed distantly that she was amused with me.

Renata broke the silence that followed my words by asking, “Who summoned you?”

The Dracule kept looking at me. The corners of her furred mouth raised in what I thought was a smile, albeit, a disconcerting one.

“Sssomeone clossse and not ssso clossse.”

“You speak in riddle.”

The Dracule looked at her then. “And you have not given me reassson to ssspeak otherwissse, vampire.”

“What would make you speak otherwise, Dracule?”

Its ears swiveled and I realized it was thinking. The leathery wings snapped like a clap of thunder and I jumped. It settled those wings like a cloak around its body.

“Her.”

Chapter Sixteen

For the first time in my undead life, I was sincerely too frightened to speak. I heard Renata’s voice, as if coming from the other end of the hall.

“You are implying that the joy of Epiphany’s body would be worth the name of the one who summoned you?”

“No,” the Dracule said. “The joy of your vampire’sss body will be worth the protection of three I wasss sssummoned to take.”

“You have already taken the soul of one of my vampires,” she said and made it clear that she was not happy about that transgression. “Will you trick her and only spare her two?”

“I will ssspare her three.”

The dimly lit hallway went unbelievably silent. I realized they were both staring at me. I met Renata’s inquiring look.

“I do not know what to say.”

“Yesss or no,” the Dracule said.

Renata spoke to the tall creature. “On one condition, Dracule, as I know your kind are a bargaining lot. If Epiphany agrees to bed you, as her Queen, I am to be present.”

“Fair enough.” The Dracule raised her shoulders in an awkward version of a shrug. “It isss not like I could not have already taken her sssoul if that isss what I wanted.”

“Why haven’t you?” I asked.

The Dracule did not answer.

Renata’s voice flowed through my mind, like something liquid and touchable.

Curiosity, she said, it has and will always be the Dracule’s greatest virtue and greatest vice.

Still, the Dracule did not answer.

You speak like one who has had experience, I thought.

Epiphany, if you agree, I do not advise letting it touch you between the legs with its hands.

I remembered the tiny silver claws that the Dracule had unsheathed and shuddered to think of the possibilities.

Guide me, I told her. What do you want me to do?

Her voice seemed to sigh in my mind. As much as I despise sharing, this seems the lesser of two evils. The Dracule are honorable, in a way, and they do love to barter. Once summoned, only a bargain of more worth will lead them astray of their original intent.

Can we trust her?

We do not have much of a choice. I would advise you to decline if I thought your little fox spirito was a match for one of the Greater Dracule.

Cuinn?

I didn’t have to ask the question as he understood my thoughts.

Your Queen is correct. Ye can kill the Dracule with the blade, but ye’d have to catch her first.

I turned to Renata.

Are you afraid of her?

If she turns against us, oh yes.

Renata could have forced me to do it. She could have ordered me to accept, but she didn’t. She left me room to decide what was right and wrong on my own. I turned my face up to the Dracule. “Is it true that you enjoy a good barter?”

“Yesss.”

“Then”—I got to my feet—“barter we shall.”

“Lead.” She made a sort of sweeping gesture with her body, as someone would when inviting a guest into her home. The gesture was more like a half-bow with her arms tucked behind the shield of her wings.

*

We had spent a good half hour bartering with the Dracule. I admit, Renata was a great deal better at it than I was. I did not know how the Dracule killed their victims, nor did I particularly care to find out. The Dracule was not allowed to scar my body, maim my body, or remove any of the flesh from my body. While Renata bartered and discussed the terms with the Dracule, I wondered just how intimately she knew their kind.

“Do I have your word that when I am mounting your vampire you will not ssstab me in the back?”

I heard the Dracule’s words and began paying close attention to the conversation again.

A dark smile curved over Renata’s lips from where she sat in a chair next to the armoire. The Dracule stood at the foot of Renata’s great bed. I sat on the edge of it, watching them both.

“If you hurt her in a way she does not enjoy,” she said darkly, “then yes, oh yes, I will cut out your heart myself, Dracule.”

“If you can,” the Dracule said, empty black eyes slipping from Renata’s dark smile and to my still form on the bed.

The Dracule started moving toward me and my heart leapt into my throat.

“You both need to feed,” the Dracule said, continuing in a dry tone, “I am willing to feed you both, at a price.”

“The blood of a Dracule,” Renata said arching her dark brows, “that is no small offer. What say you the price?”

Not only were we bargaining my body, but we were suddenly also striking a bargain about the Dracule’s blood.

Well, I thought to myself, at least the Dracule is willing to open a vein.

Aye, Cuinn said, reminding me of his presence, your Queen is right again. ‘T is no small offer.

Why did it seem like Cuinn was starting to agree with Renata more and more?

I can’t do this if you’re going to be playing around in my head, Cuinn.

He fell silent. I sensed that he was curling up for a little nap, but knew he would not truly sleep. He would, as usual, eavesdrop. Is it really eavesdropping when the spirit communicating with you mind-to-mind is magically bound to protect you? In truth, I didn’t think he could help it. He could no more block me out than I could him.

“Did you hear her, Epiphany?” Renata touched my shoulder and I startled back to myself.

“Hear what, my Queen?”

“The Dracule has offered her blood on the condition that I make you ready.”

“Ready?” I asked, unable to keep the suspicion out of my voice.

“She has offered to feed us so long as I use my hands and my mouth to prepare you for her.”

Date: 2015-12-24; view: 690