Chapter Twenty-Three 12 page

“Yes.”

“That is her blood.”

I searched her blank expression. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“If we are to find your traitor, then yes, I did.”

“Thank you.”

She tilted her head and dipped it forward ever so slightly.

“You sound like one who knows my kind personally,” she said.

He gave her a charming smile that belied the pain I knew he felt. “Knew,” he said, “I knew one of your kind very well.”

“Who was she?” Iliaria asked.

“He,” Vasco said. “His name was Pantaleone.”

“The name does not sound familiar,” she said.

“It was a long time ago.”

“Dare I ask more?”

“Another time, perhaps.”

I looked down at the ring. “How does it work?”

“You wear it,” Iliaria said. “That is how.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes, just like that.”

“Does it matter which finger?” Iliaria shook her head.

I slid the ring onto the middle finger of my left hand. I expected to feel some spark of magic, to feel some charge of power, and was taken aback when I felt nothing.

“I don’t feel anything,” I said.

“A Stone of Shadows does not work that way, Epiphany,” Renata spoke from her seat. “You will sense the magic at work once the sun rises. As it is, it lies dormant until you need it.”

“You have used one of the stones before?” Iliaria asked.

“No,” Renata said, “I merely know of them.”

I held up my hand. “Why give me this, Iliaria? How will this help us catch the traitor that summoned you?”

Renata answered before Iliaria could. “She means you to use the stone to stay awake and catch the traitor. No doubt, he will try again?”

“I think so, yes,” Iliaria said, “and I plan on staying with Epiphany.”

“You said you offered your aid,” Renata said.

“Couldn’t Cuinn keep me awake?” I asked.

I cannot keep ye awake, he said, I can only wake ye if there be danger. ’Tis not the same type of magic that the Stone bestows upon its wearer.

Distantly, I heard Iliaria ask who Cuinn was and Renata’s smooth reply explaining that Cuinn was the spirit in the fox blade.

I blinked finally, coming back to myself.

“What did he say?” Vasco propped his chin on his fist. I didn’t doubt that he’d known I’d been listening to Cuinn’s voice inside my head. I still wasn’t used to it and would need to work on controlling my facial expressions.

“He can only wake me if there’s danger. It’s not the same thing as the ring, apparently.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Iliaria said. “Why am I under the impression that you don’t want my gift?”

“It’s not that I don’t want your gift, Iliaria.”

“It’s that she feels bad you went out of your way to give her something.” Vasco grinned and I directed a disapproving look at him.

“You do not like gifts?” she asked, blinking at me as if she really didn’t understand.

I wasn’t sure how to answer her. I didn’t mind the gift, but the fact that she had gone out of her way to create something as powerful as the Stones of Shadows did catch me a little off-guard. I wasn’t exactly sure what it required for her to make it. Though, obviously, it required a bit of blood.

Then again, as she’d fed Renata and me earlier, she didn’t seem to mind sharing that.

“It is a wondrous gift, Iliaria, and I do appreciate it, but Vasco is right about me. I do not know what it took for you to make this.”

“Do you think there are strings attached to this gift?” she asked.

I lifted my shoulders.

“There are,” she said and the corner of her mouth curled slyly.

“And what strings are those?”

“It is to aid us in finding your traitor,” she said. “However, that is not all. If we succeed in finding your traitor, I expect you to use the ring for me.”

“What do you mean use it for you?”

“You bear my mark, Epiphany. We have a bargain. I will give you your nights with your Queen. I will share kindly, but there will be days when I do not want to share you.”

A tremble of desire shuddered down my spine.

“I’m fairly certain I can live with that,” I said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

She sat back, smiling and looking pleased. “Good. I’d hoped that would be your answer.”

“Does my opinion not matter?” Renata asked and her voice was low yet strangely commanding.

“Do you not agree?” Iliaria asked. “Would you prefer to share her bed with me every night?”

Renata’s face was a blank porcelain mask. “Not every night, no.”

“Some nights?” Iliaria asked.

“Some nights, yes,” Renata said, “but not every.”

“Then,” Iliaria said, “those nights which you do not feel like sharing I will spend my time with Epiphany during the day.”

Renata’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I did not say I disagreed, Dracule. I was merely asking if my opinion mattered or not.”

“You know it matters,” I said, glancing at her.

Renata addressed Iliaria. “I agree, as we have more important matters to discuss, such as your plans for catching this traitor. I imagine you’ve some idea?”

“I do,” Iliaria said.

“And?”

“I will stay with Epiphany and help her find the traitor.”

Renata gave a slow shake of her head. “No.”

Iliaria narrowed her eyes. “I have gone out of my way for you and yours, and yet you trust me so little?”

“It is not a matter of distrust, Dracule. It is a matter of Epiphany’s safety.”

“You do not trust me to keep her safe.”

“That is not what I said,” Renata said in a voice that was dangerously slow.

“It is what you implied,” Iliaria continued to glare at my Queen, my lover.

Before Renata could open her mouth and say whatever she was going to say, I interceded. “Then what is the reason, Renata?”

“If this traitor is working with another Dracule and perhaps more than one vampire, you and the Dracule alone will not be enough.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to jump to conclusions, Iliaria,” I said gently, not wanting to offend her.

Iliaria did not apologize, but she stopped glaring. “Ah,” she said. “If we are outnumbered it is true that I will not be enough to protect her,” she said. “I cannot make another Stone of Shadows.”

“I know,” Renata said, watching me.

“But,” I said, “I could use the sword.”

“That might work,” Vasco said. “Cuinn told you he cannot keep you awake? You used the sword today to wake the Queen.”

“And you could use it again to wake the others,” Renata said.

“The question is,” I said, “which others would we wake?”

“Well, to start,” she said, crossing her long legs and tilting her head, “Vasco and I.”

“That’s a given.” I smiled softly.

“Who would you wake?” she asked.

I almost responded without thinking it through, but decided that thinking very carefully about whom I would wake was a good idea.

“Not Rosabella,” I said.

Renata offered an encouraging nod. “And?”

“I would not wake Lorrenzo or Alessandra.”

“Why? Alessandra fears me.”

“That fear can turn against you,” I said. “I wouldn’t give her the opportunity of having my back in a fight, just for caution’s sake. Lorrenzo didn’t believe what we told him. I don’t trust him for the reason that he doesn’t seem to take this seriously.”

“What about Severiano?”

“He’s secure in his power,” I said. “That’s a point for him. I don’t think he’d hesitate to use it. I am uncertain as to whether he would use it for the right reasons, though.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Would he use it for his advantage, his gain?”

“Many of us use our powers for advantage and gain, colombina,” Vasco said.

“But is it for the right reasons? Would Severiano use his power to help his people or himself?”

“You do not think much like a vampire,” Iliaria noted.

“How not?” I asked.

“Oh, she thinks like a vampire,” Renata said with a tendril of amusement. “She simply does not think like most vampires.”

“She does not think like a majority of the Elders,” Vasco said.

“It has never seemed to me like you think like the other Elders either, Vasco.”

“I have my moments, bellezza. You will too. As you are learning, in order to survive you have to secure and defend.”

“It is so with the Dracule,” Iliaria said. “We have that much in common.”

Renata steered the conversation back to the previous topic. “Who else would you wake, Epiphany? Would you wake Severiano?”

I turned to Vasco and asked, “Would you?”

Vasco raised his hands, indicating his retreat in answering. “This is your question to answer, colombina, not mine.”

I licked my lips, thinking. “Fair enough,” I said. “No, I would not wake him.”

“Why?” Renata asked, searching my face.

“I have my doubts. If I have doubts about him, then he is not someone I want to offer trust. There is no proof that I should trust him, so I will not.”

“The others have not offered you proof of their trust,” she added.

“No,” I said, “they haven’t, but I have more doubts about Severiano’s motives than most.”

“Then who would you wake? Would you wake Vittoria and Vito?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“They believed,” I said. “Vittoria herself said that if it is true, then we are all in grave danger. They seem to care about the Rosso Lussuria as a whole and not just themselves.”

She nodded and seemed pleased with my answer. I was beginning to think the line of questions was a test of sorts.

“What about Nirena?”

“Yes,” I said, remembering the look of understanding and the knowledge that Nirena had when she’d realized I’d bargained with the Dracule. “Yes, because she is knowledgeable. She too is secure in her power, but she does not have that dangerous curiosity I’ve seen present in others.”

“Out of twelve Elders, you would wake four, Epiphany?”

“Dante and Dominique. I would wake them.”

Vasco grinned at me. “That was well reasoned.”

I grinned back. “It just occurred to me.”

“I can wake Dante and Dominique,” Renata said, “for I made them and they are my guard. Once I am awake, I will be capable of calling to them. The others you will have to wake with the sword.”

“Will you be able to wake four Elder vampires with the sword?” Vasco asked.

I sensed Cuinn’s ears swivel and flatten against the back of his skull. I didn’t need to hear him to know what the gesture meant.

“I’m fairly certain you just insulted Cuinn.”

“I did not mean to insult him. I am only checking to make certain.”

Aye, Cuinn thought, ye can wake four. I’d not advise trying to wake the whole clan, but four is cake and as ye’ve seen, requires little blood.

“We can do it,” I said.

“So we shall,” Renata said.

Vasco nodded his agreement.

All three of us turned to Iliaria.

She smiled and there was a hint of danger lurking in her eyes. As far as agreements went, it looked an awful lot like one.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dante was posted just outside the door to the sitting room. Dominique was posted on the opposite door that connected to Renata’s boudoir.

Renata went to the double doors leading to one of the lesser hallways, opening it and making a gesture with her head, indicating that Dante should enter. Vasco, having determined the wishes of his queen, opened the other door and told Dominique, “The Queen wishes to speak with you.”

Dante wore a black coachman’s coat that had a metal clasp at the throat. The coat was reasonably modern. If he wasn’t a vampire I might’ve accused him of trying to look like one.

Dominique, as usual, was the more modest of the two. His hair that was a brown so dark it was almost black was pulled back into its usual low ponytail. He wore a pair of black denim pants with a long sleeved black T-shirt. Generally, it was the younger vampires that embraced the more modern fashion trends of the outside world. We were aware of the trends of the outside world, though very few of us embraced them. There was a great library within the Sotto that held many number of texts, both old and new. The Cacciatori hunted primarily for food, but if they had to go into the city, only those adept at concealing themselves were sent forth to retrieve supplies.

I’d slowly grown an appreciation for slacks and long-sleeved tops, but I would never in my undead life embrace denim. I hadn’t even begun wearing pants until I was no longer Renata’s pet. I did eventually learn that pants provided a certain protection that a gown did not, and within the Sotto a woman liked to retain some decency.

Renata told them of our plan. However, she did not tell them we would be waking Vittoria, Vito, and Nirena. She trusted her guards more than the Elders, of that I knew for a surety, but I also knew that Renata would only tell as much as was necessary. I learned some years ago that there was always more going on inside her head than she let on.

Dante looked ready to pounce on the prospect, eyes eager as his mouth curled like a cat up to no good.

Dominique bowed. “I understand, my Queen.”

“Good,” Renata said. “You are dismissed.”

I didn’t have to see a clock to know that it was some hours until dawn.

The two left to return to their separate posts outside the doors. I sat on the small couch next to Iliaria.

“What of the third challenge?” I asked, meeting Renata’s gaze as she returned to her seat in the high-backed armchair. “The others will grow suspicious, will they not?”

“No doubt one of the Elders has already informed the others of the meeting and its significance,” she said.

“I thought you called upon those you trusted?”

It was Iliaria that said, “You’re fishing them out.”

Renata grinned. It wasn’t the bright and good-natured grin Vasco often gave. It was slyer, more cunning, and cutting. “In a way.”

“I understand what fishing them out means,” I said, “but I do not comprehend why you would willingly place your trust in those that you doubt.”

“To see who will break it,” Vasco said from his perch on the opposite couch.

“Appunto,” she said, inclining her head in his direction. “It is a risk I must take to see who is loyal to me.”

I understood then. “How will you know who breaks your trust by spreading the word?”

“I have my ways,” she said.

“What your Queen means, Epiphany, is that she has her spies,” Iliaria said.

Renata raised her brows. “You think so?”

Iliaria smiled wickedly. “I would, were I you.”

“And who do you think my spies are, Dracule?”

I caught the flicker in Vasco’s features and said, “Vasco knows.”

He gave me a surprised look. “You caught that?”

“Yes.”

“Once, you would not have.”

“I’ve learned to play closer attention.”

“How would I know who your spies are?” Iliaria said.

I remembered Renata’s words about hearing talk of her death. Why hadn’t I concluded then that she’d had her spies? I tried to figure out the question that she had directed at Iliaria. If I were Queen, who would I appoint as my spies? Vasco was an obvious choice. At least, from my position. I remembered the Underling that had held the doors to the banquet hall open for us. I remembered the girl and the boy that had helped prepare for the dream trial. They too had kept their faces hidden behind their hair, eyes studiously averted.

There were always Underlings. Anytime a mortal was reborn a vampire, they became an Underling within whatever clan they belong to. It was the way our society worked.

Of course, there were Underlings that let their newfound powers go to their head. There were also Underlings that never came into their power and those who chose not to embrace it even when they did. The Underlings that sought to ascend rank sooner than allowed were punished by the clan’s head, if not the Elders. Those Underlings that conformed and served their Queen or King, that offered utmost loyalty, they would have made the perfect spies.

The Elders in a clan did one of two things with Underlings. As Lucrezia had done to me, they tormented and taunted, but as some of the other Elders had done, like Vittoria and Vito, they ignored the Underlings in such a way that it seemed almost as if they were pretending they did not exist.

If you were not important enough to be acknowledged, were you important enough for someone to censor his or her words and actions around you?

“The Underlings,” I said.

Renata turned to Vasco. “My, my, Vasco. What have you been teaching her?”

Vasco practically beamed with pride. “My lady, I have learned that if you offer Epiphany a grain of sand she will eventually find the ocean.”

“Well said, Vasco, but that does not tell me what you have been teaching her.”

“I have taught her little in comparison to what she has figured out on her own.”

“Again,” she said to me, “you surprise me, Epiphany.”

I didn’t know what to say to that and so I said nothing at all.

“How does she surprise you?” Iliaria asked.

Renata turned to look at her. “You have not known Epiphany these past two hundred years,” she said, as if that explained everything.

“No,” Iliaria said, “but I too have seen what you must have at one time seen.”

“And what is that?” Renata asked in a tone that was almost defensive.

Iliaria looked at me then, her expression most thoughtful.

“She is small and gentle,” she said, “and careful not to insult, like a mouse trying to slip quietly through a house full of cats. But you are a clever mouse, aren’t you, Epiphany?”

“I don’t know.”

“Even mice acquire skills to confuse the cat.”

She laid her hand over mine, tracing a circle on my skin with the tip of her finger. “And now, those around you are beginning to see your skills. They are beginning to see that you have grown from a scared thing into something more secure.” Her fingers trailed up my wrist, brushing across the sigil in my skin. The sigil tingled, itching like mad biting insects. “Perhaps you were never a mouse. Perhaps you are only a kitten learning how to use her very sharp claws.” Her voice was a breathy whisper. I shuddered, feeling her touch call to my blood, turning it to fire in my veins.

“The problem with cats,” Renata said in a voice gone cold, “is that they are easily distracted.”

At Renata’s words, I caught the Dracule’s wrist. Her pulse thudded between my fingers. The mark at my wrist burned hot.

“I am a vampire,” I said. “I am not a cat or a dog or any other manner of pet.” I looked at Renata. “Unless I choose to be.”

Renata inclined her head in acknowledgement.

The Dracule watched me intently. “And how often do you choose to play the role of the pet? How often, for another’s sense of satisfaction, do you choose to appear weaker than you really are? How often do you sheath your claws for the sake of avoiding confrontation?”

I let go of the Dracule’s wrist. I did not know how she was able to read me so well, but it was unnerving, as if she read the Braille of my soul. “I do not pretend to appear weak, nor am I weak, Iliaria. I simply am what I am.”

“And what are you?” Iliaria asked.

“She is Epiphany,” Renata said.

Epiphany. I was not so sure I understood what that meant anymore. When I was a human child I once asked my father why my mother had chosen my name. I never knew her, for she had died not too long after I was born. Most of the memories of my mortal life were shrouded in darkness, which was fairly typical for one who had died and lived.

One memory that remained unaffected was that of my father’s reply. I was some seven or eight years of age, eternally curious as most children are.

“To understand why your mother named you Epiphany, you need to know what it means,” my father had said. “You know those puzzles you enjoy so much? Well, you know that feeling you get when you find the last piece and put it down and get to see the picture all of the pieces make?”

I had understood that much.

“When you were born your mother saw the picture. You were the piece that made her life whole, dear one.”

I had asked what picture my mother had seen.

“Love,” my father said. “Your mother saw love.”

Iliaria was perceptive, for sure, but she did not know and understand me. Renata knew me, knew my nature. The thought made me turn to look at her.

She did not seek to outwardly understand or explain it. She embraced it. She accepted it.

In her, I saw love. I saw the last piece of the puzzle that made my heart whole.

She held out her hand, her expression gentle, and said softly, “Epiphany.”

I went to her, letting her stroke my cheek with the back of her hand. The look she gave me was one of tender affection.

You are my Epiphany, her voice flowed through my mind. You are my missing piece.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The others waited for sunrise in the sitting room. I lay in Renata’s great bed, enfolded within the circle of her arms.

We were both silent.

Soon, we would go and try to catch the traitor that had summoned Iliaria. Until then, we would spend what time we had together.

Renata toyed with a strand of my hair, teasing a lock and wrapping it around her finger. I relaxed under her touch, content with the attention.

We had not informed the three Elders that we would be waking them. They had given their aid; we would simply take them up on their offers.

You’re awfully quiet, Cuinn whispered through my mind.

You’re awfully fond of shattering that.

He made a disgruntled noise.

Cuinn…

The both of you, stop it.

“You heard us?” I said. “I thought you couldn’t hear Cuinn?”

“I cannot. I can hear you,” Renata whispered against my temple.

“Oh.” I felt a gentle smile tug at my lips. “So now it is I that has ruined your quiet moment.”

Renata slid her palm down my back, placing her hand flat against the base of my spine. She drew me closer to her.

“Yes,” she said, brushing my knee with her thigh. I raised my leg and she nestled her thigh against me.

Sorrow like soft feathers touched my mind.

“What happens when all this is done?” I asked.

“When we execute the traitor?”

“I still have the challenges…”

“Unless you influence a number of Elders to vote in your favor.”

I sat up. “You never told me the Elders could vote someone in.”

“It is an unusual way, Epiphany. I do not allow them to cast votes lightly, as they more often than not bicker and squabble and try to swing one another’s votes in support of their own wills.”

“What I am doing does not prove anything to them, you think?”

“It proves everything to me, but if the Elders were to cast a vote you would have to sway them, not I.” She searched my gaze. “Is that a path you would like to consider?”

“It is an option,” I said, “that’s all. Even if I sway enough of them to vote in my favor, there are those that still would not respect me.”

“Even if you pass the challenges there will be those that do not respect you. Such is the life of our kind.” She leaned forward and I closed my eyes. Her lips followed the line of my jaw to my neck, nibbling lightly and sending desire like wine coursing through my veins.

“What about us?”

Her mouth found my neck and I tilted my head to the side, offering it to her.

“What do you mean?” Her lips framed the words dangerously close to my ear.

“What happens to us after we execute the traitor? What happens to us if I become an Elder? What happens if I fail the challenges?”

She drew back, frowning at me. “Given your position, you are thinking entirely too much.”

She leaned in as if to kiss me and I stopped her by placing a hand high up on her chest.

“If you kiss me, I won’t be able to think.”

“That is the point, cara mia.”

“Your sweet Italian nothings will not distract me,” I said. “I’ve been overexposed these past some years and the effect it once had has diminished.”

She caught the edge of my earlobe between her teeth, tugging until I made another sound.

“Renata,” I said in a breathy voice.

“I want to make love to you.”

Italian, English, it didn’t matter coming from Renata. I shuddered and tried to focus.

Renata let me push her thigh out from between my legs. I started wiggling toward the edge of the bed.

“Epiphany, what are you doing?”

“Presently trying to remember what I was talking about.”

“My sweet Italian nothings will not distract you.” She grinned slyly.

I gave her an impatient look. “Before that.”

“I do not know,” she said, getting to her hands and knees and crawling toward me. “I seem to have forgotten.”

I slid from the bed to my feet. Renata crawled across the mattress, following. Her midnight hair cascaded around her like a cloak of dark silk as she moved to the edge of the bed.

“You forget?” I asked. “I don’t believe it, my lady.”

“Suit yourself.” She gave a reserved smile, eyes glistening deviously by candlelight.

I glanced at the plum colored curtain that hid the doorway leading to the other room.

Renata tsked softly, the corners of her mouth curving seductively, predatorily. “We have played this game before, cara mia.”

It made me want to run.

It made me want to get caught by her.

It always had.

Renata smiled darkly, as if she knew and was remembering the same thing.

“You forget I can read your thoughts, Epiphany. If you run, I will catch you.”

I moved as I had seen Vasco move, as I had seen Renata move. I ran, not for the door, but further into the room. Renata caught me and a sound very much like a squeal came out of my mouth. She snaked her arm around my waist, and with her other hand clutching the arm she had caught, swung me around in a dance-like move to face her.

She laughed, pulling me close.

“I told you I would catch you.” Her arms locked like shackles around my torso. I touched those arms, running my hands up the length of them.

“Perhaps I wanted to be caught.”

Someone cleared their throat and I turned to see Vasco holding the purple curtain aside. He looked to the opposite side of the room. Dominique stood in the other doorway.

“I heard a noise,” Dominique said, looking somewhat foolish as there was obviously no threat. “I beg your pardon, my Queen.”

“You are pardoned,” she said, looking highly amused.

Dominique stepped out and shut the door behind him.

Vasco grinned at me. “I did not think you were in trouble,” he said. “I just could not believe such a noise actually came from you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and he grinned even wider, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“We do not have much longer, my lady.”

Renata acknowledged him with a nod. “I am aware, Vasco.”

When the door clicked shut and the curtain fell back into place, I looked at her.

“It has been a long time since I have heard you make a sound quite like that,” she said.

I knew the expression I gave her was a serious one. “What happens to us, Renata?”

“You are persistent.”

“And you are evasive.”

“I am not being evasive.”

“No, now you are being elusive.” I sighed, slightly frustrated.

She took my hand and I followed her back to the bed. Renata pulled me down into the circle of her arms and I tried to relax, but found it hard to because she would not answer my question and I could not understand why she would not answer it.

“I have already decided what I will do whether you succeed to pass the challenges or no.”

“And what is that?” I asked, not meeting her eyes, afraid of what she would say.

She cupped the side of my face in her hand and turned me to look at her.

I will declare you Inamorata, she whispered through my mind. I will inform the Rosso Lussuria that you are my lover and my consort.

I knew her well enough to know that she had told me telepathically and had been evasive because she was Renata. She was the Queen and once again my lover, but being Renata, she did not want anyone to know until she chose the right moment. She told me because I had asked.

It was a great risk for her and not one I expected her to take.

It is a risk I am willing to take, but you must understand, Piph, that it does not solely put me at risk. It will put you at risk as well.

“I understand,” I said. “It is a risk I too am willing to take.”

“Good. That pleases me.” Her tranquil expression turned quizzically amused as I moved down her body. “Epiphany,” she said, imbuing my name with a thread of amusement, “what are you doing?”

My fingers brushed the hem of her dress. I turned my head, hiding behind my hair.

“You were not satisfied earlier.”

“What do you propose to do?”

I bowed my head even more, still hiding. It was a demure gesture and a subservient one that I knew would please her.

Date: 2015-12-24; view: 656