Right to Silence

by Lily Luchesi

  He arched an eyebrow. “Fair enough. At least you know why I wanted your mother dead way back when. By the by, did you know I gave Vincent that mission and he carried it out twenty-two years later?”

  Angelica wanted to leap over the desk and rake her claws down his face and throat, hear him scream. Her mother’s death was something she never spoke of, and now she was getting it thrown in her face from every direction in the span of fifteen minutes.

  “You’re taunts don’t faze me, Price.”

  Danny took her hand again. “Tell us why you all of a sudden want Angelica alive rather than dead, and tell us quickly, or I’ll take you to that Pit myself.”

  Leander pretended to shiver. “Oh, I’m so frightened of you, grandson.”

  “You should be.”

  Angelica could not feel emotions like Danny could, but after Claiming him she was more tuned into his, and the rage she felt from him at that moment was enough to give her pause. She saw Leander sit up straighter and take in what his ancestor was saying. Something in Danny’s face made Leander drop his mocking tones.

  “Fine. Do you know who Profeta Firenze was?” Leander asked.

  Angelica scoffed once again. “The Prophet of Florence. The Grand Coven already in residence named the city after her.”

  Leander nodded. “She was an Egyptian priestess who came to the Romans after the Romans conquered Egypt, bringing with her in secret prophecies she had written down in nearly unintelligible hieroglyphics. Good thing she did, because we all know what happened to the Library of Alexandria, where they had originally resided.

  “After her death, the Grand Coven translated the prophecies, many of which had already come to pass. Due to trade and relocation, the prophecies wound up in a library controlled by Parliament, where I discovered them alongside the Quinn brothers and Doctor Michael Finnigan.

  “I had simply wanted to kill your mother because that would weaken other vampires, as you stated. When I found this prophecy, I did not think anything of it at the time, because I was going to kill Veronica Delarue anyway. And then, eighteen years later...I met you. The vampire born on the side of the mortals.” The look of disgust mixed with a hint of concern gave Angelica a shiver.

  “What does that have to do with me, now? How am I connected to Firenze?” she asked.

  Leander reached into a desk drawer and pushed a piece of what looked like aged parchment across it to Angelica. She reached for it and as soon as she touched it she knew she was wrong: this was not parchment. This was preserved human skin. Written on it was the following:

  “When there comes a vampire descended from the original line, born on the side of the mortals, they shall rise up and return us to our rightful glory, but only after they have been made to their full potential.”

  Angelica read over the prophecy, and she felt Danny reading over her shoulder. She was trying to work out just what that meant. Obviously it had to do with a vamplet, like she, but she was not directly descended from the original line: she had no idea who her descendants were. They had been killed by hunters when her mother had been a girl. What did it mean by full potential? What glory?

  “If this was supposed to explain things, then you did a piss-poor job of it,” Danny said.

  Leander smirked. “I have had time to do some digging, and your line is descended from one of the original vampire’s: Livia, former wife of Augustus, the Roman Emperor. It was proven that Livia murdered Augustus in a bloodlust-filled rage, determined to gain his powers...much as your father murdered your mother. Augustus’ line died out, and Livia’s went on...ending in you, the vampire of prophecy.”

  He stood up and walked around to Angelica’s side of the desk. “Vampires gain their powers from you. Now that you were turned— that’s what it means by ‘full potential’ —you are their rightful leader...the vampire’s true Empress, in whose veins runs the blood of the true ancients.”

  Angelica’s mouth dropped. And here she had thought nothing could shock her anymore. “You’re lying. I am no ruler.”

  “Oh, but you are. And you’re going to help me, Your Highness. You’re going to lead your subjects to gather souls for us.”

  Her shock was withering away, leaving more room for the utter hatred she felt for Leander, the manipulative, murdering bastard that he was. He was close to her and she smelled his cologne, making her feel ill as it mixed with the sulfur that permeated the place.

  “I don’t know what makes you think I’d ever do anything for you,” she replied. “And even Danny already knows, you can do anything you like to anyone I care about: I will never come over to your side.”

  He stared down at her, still smiling. “Oh, you will. And that is why I am not going to threaten your little living blood bank over here, or anyone else for that matter. I know your type, Cross. You’re addicted to power, and once you get a stronger taste for it, you’ll come crawling to me to get even more.” He stepped back and pressed something on the side of his desk. “Now, I’m going to send you back to Chicago, and give you some time to succumb to the darkness that already resides in that thing you call a soul.” He pressed his hand to whatever it was on his desk and Angelica felt the tug of a portal.

  The next thing she knew, she and Danny were back in the PID dungeon, and she was still holding the human skin, on which was written the prophecy containing her fate was scrawled.

  Chapter Ten

  Sometimes you’re the windshield, and sometimes you’re the bug that gets its guts splattered across the glass and yet still remains alive to suffer. Angelica Cross was used to feeling like that bug physically, but never metaphorically.

  In a stomach-twisting short journey, she and Danny were splayed out on the floor of the PID where the portal was, but she had little time to think about her spinning gut, because her head was spinning even more thanks to the information Leander had given her.

  She recalled the battle between her and Fiona, and how the last one differed from their others when Angelica had still been a vamplet. After she’d turned (brought to my full potential), she had fought off large, powerful blasts of pure magic energy infused with demonic essence like they were mere fruit flies.

  No one, not Fiona, Danny, or herself, could figure out how she had done that. It seemed beyond any vampire’s power, and now she was able to understand: she was not just a vampire. She was much more.

  Under normal circumstances, she would be questioning anything a demon told her of its own volition, but Leander had no reason to lie: he wanted her, and he wanted her subjects, as he had called them, to join their allegiance with Hell. As if she would ever do that. And Empress or not, vampires had free will. If they wanted to join Hell, they were more than welcome to, at least, until she executed them. She founded the PID to keep paranormal creatures on the up and up, and she’d continue pressing that message as long as she was Undead.

  It was not her heritage that was making her head spin, though she knew she needed to come to grips with that later, it was Leander’s parting words of how she’d come to him, desiring power. How ridiculous: she had all the power she wanted here at the PID.

  As soon as that thought hit her, she mentally cringed. I do not desire power. I saw a position needing to be filled and I did so. It was about safety and peace, not power or leadership. He was trying to fuck with my brain and he is succeeding.

  “Angie?” Danny was at her side, his hand running through her black locks. “I know this is going to be a stupid question, but are you okay?”

  Angelica nodded, trying to clear her mind of the intoxicating mixture of rage and shock. “Yeah, I’ll be fine once I’ve swallowed all this.” She stood up, feeling her body getting used to being vertical and on her natural plane again. She was vaguely aware that she needed to feed.

  Just as Danny was gaining his balance, the dungeon door burst open and there stood a furious Mark, followed by Bart and Helena. Bart had a slightly apologetic look on his face, and Helena looked like her favorite soap opera just came on as sh
e waited to see what would happen.

  “Again? Motherfucking again?” Mark said, not angry, but more exasperated.

  “I only went to watch her back,” Danny commented.

  Angelica gave him a swat on his back. “How chivalrous, you ass. Mark, I know you’re upset, but we all need to go somewhere more comfortable than here and talk. Immediately.”

  Mark paled. “Code red?” The code for extreme emergencies.

  “Code black,” Angelica replied, holding up the prophecy.

  “There’s no such thing,” Bart said.

  “Well, there is now.”

  She saw Bart and Mark’s expressions change and she was glad to see that her warnings still held some sway over her employees. She had been afraid after being gone for ten months, that they would no longer consider her the leader and that, with her being back, they would not look at her the same way, but as a coward who ran away. She was no coward.

  In the residential floors of the building, Angelica had made a few comfortable sitting areas accessible to all employees, and they commandeered one of them straightaway. Once in one of them, she locked all the doors so there would be no interruptions.

  Bart went and got bottles of beer from the refrigerator for the mortals, and Angelica stood by the microwave as she waited for two pints of blood to warm up. The hour down in Hell felt more like a day to her, and she needed to replenish her energy. Vampires were more prone to fall victim to Hell’s time warping, and she was actually glad, because Danny seemed okay.

  “Um, is it sanitary to keep blood in a freezer right above a fridge stocked with real food?” Helena asked, grimacing as Angelica sat down on a sofa next to Danny.

  “For me, this is real food,” Angelica replied. “Sanitary and biohazard concerns aside, how drunk do you three want to be before you hear this?” She placed the preserved skin on the coffee table in the center of the room.

  “Since you made a new color code for what’s going on, where’s the vodka?” Bart asked.

  Angelica started on her second pint of AB+, cupping the large mug in her hands as if the physical warmth would have any effect on her whatsoever. She stood up and began to pace as she sipped, movement calming her down to explain everything that she had learned from Leander in as concise a manner as possible.

  She watched the expressions of the other three agents’ faces change as her story went on. Helena looked faintly disbelieving, Mark’s mouth was slightly open, his attention rapt, and Bart was nodding as she spoke.

  That was the reaction she homed in on.

  “And what are you nodding at?” she asked. “Hardly the reaction I’d have if I were you.”

  Bart stood up. “Do you know why the Werewolf Corps was originally founded? Because in fourteen AD, vampires ruled over all other creatures except angels and demons. The Corps was sworn to protect vampires, who were not warlike creatures despite a few war leaders who wound up being Undead. That is why vampires and werewolves hate each other, because werewolves didn’t like being under the thumb of Augustus and Livia. However, we’re a loyal species. We were allowed to go to war for humans after the vampires’ downfall, when Livia murdered her ex-husband.

  “It’s a tale all of us who joined the Corps or had ancestors in the Corps know. And even the ones who did not like being in service to vamps all passed down one piece of information to us: should the Emperor or Empress ever rise again, we would serve them unconditionally. Am I surprised it happened now? Yes. But every generation is taught to expect it and embrace it when it happens.”

  At this, Angelica felt her own mouth drop. She had once dated a captain in the Werewolf Corps, and he had never told her anything like this. She had seen Bart’s application, that he had been a Major in the Corps until he had been injured by one of his own comrades who had gone rabid with bloodlust. It was then he had applied to the PID.

  “I’m not surprised it’s you, to be honest,” he continued. “You’re a bit of a legend— both hero and villain —in my family.”

  “Me? What on Earth did I do, besides start this company, that is?” she asked.

  Bart smirked, and she realized she had never heard him speak so much in one day as he had these past few minutes. “You killed and simultaneously saved my great-great uncle...Captain Quentin Michaels.”

  How many shocks is my mind going to have today? Angelica thought, plopping back into her seat. Sure, she had seen that Bart’s surname was Michaels, but that was a common name. She could name five people off the top of her head with that name. She’d never had any reason to think he was related to Quentin.

  “Well, I think we can consider today to be very...informative,” Danny commented.

  “Do I want to know what’s going on right now?” Helena asked.

  Everyone, including Mark who was probably as informed about this situation as Helena was, said, “No.”

  The room was silent for a few moments, until Angelica said, “I’m very glad to have you on my team, Bart. Always was, even when you seemed to hate me.”

  He shrugged. “It’s a species thing. Nothing personal.”

  Angelica finished her mug and gently swiped at her lips to be sure there was no blood staining them and continued, “I have already held dominion over most vampires ever since the PID began. It is not my new status that worries me. It is what Leander said, about how one day soon I’d be crawling to him, begging for more power. What sense did that make? If I wanted power over the rest of my kin, more than I already have, I wouldn’t need him.”

  Danny paused. “He said when the darkness already inside of you grows, you’d come to him for more power.”

  “He was implying that you’re inherently evil,” Mark commented. “I don’t have as much experience with demons as you do, but I am sure he was just trying to plant seeds of self-doubt, and possibly make Danny afraid of you as well. When bad guys want a hero on their side, the first thing they do is try to isolate them. It’s like Villainy One-Oh-One. I wouldn’t give it a second thought. What I would worry about is what will he do once you don’t come to him?”

  “That worries me as well,” Helena said. “Shouldn’t we strike at him first and get him off your back? Before he tries more scare tactics?”

  Angelica nodded. That was the smart thing to do, but this was no envious witch or psychotic vampire. Leander was as cunning as they came, and Angelica was not sure she could match him in battle, even with everyone behind her.

  “Yes, and we’re going to destroy him. He’s not going to scare me off,” Danny said to Helena.

  Angelica looked at him, something in her heart twisting as she thought, If that’s how you feel, then why do I not completely believe in your faith in me, Danny?

  ***

  So Danny lied. A little. According to everyone he had ever known, little white lies were what relationships were glued together with. After all, it wasn’t as if he could have said, “Well, Angie, the way you dismantled those demons scared the living shit out of me, and I think Leander might have a point?”

  That would go over very well, especially at this precarious time in Angelica’s life.

  Danny went to the rooftop once the explanations had been done, feeling the cold night air whip against his skin. The view was spectacular, one hundred floors above ground level. Danny had never been scared of heights, and he had loved going to the top of Willis Tower as a kid. Being so high up had made him feel invincible. Right then, some forty years later, he wished for that invincible feeling to return to him.

  The height combined with the cold wind made his mind clear a bit and as he looked over Lake Michigan, at the crescent moon reflecting in its surface along with all of the other buildings’ reflections, he began to think about what he had learned.

  He was blood-bonded to royalty. The woman he had loved in both his lives was the Empress of every vampire in existence. And yet she’d chosen mere mortal cop Danny Mancini as her Consort. It was certainly an ego-booster. Of course, she also evidently had a very dark side just
waiting to come out, and the Consort could turn into the next delicacy for high tea in a split second. The thought was not appealing.

  Thinking about Angelica, his love, his everything, killing him was a very new thought. He had not entertained it since he found out what she was, and even then the thought had been borne of fear of the unknown, nothing more. Had he not seen Angelica’s bloodlust and sadistic joy in torturing those three demons, he would have agreed with Mark: Leander was trying to get her away from him by planting seeds of doubt in their heads. But it was more than that. Angelica had shown pleasure in torture before, when they were looking for Fiona. Leander had a lot of information at his disposal, and despite being a demon, he had never lied to them.

  He’s a hunter, Danny realized. And hunter’s have a code, or they did, when there were active hunting groups like the Price family. He wouldn’t give other hunters false information. Angelica might be a monster, but she’s still a hunter. She’s still one of us. The question is, for how long?

  He shivered. Under normal circumstances, he would never question her loyalty. But there was something inside of Angelica that had been awakened, something she could not control forever. Something that would most likely overpower her human nature.

  Any normal person would have gone in there and killed her. It would be so easy, especially for him. She trusted him implicitly. Just walk up behind her and cut her head off. Danny had never held much stock in being normal. He would continue to love and trust her, as long as she did not give him a reason to stop. He would also watch her very closely. Perhaps he could intervene before that darkness overtook her.

  Danny had been the one to tell her, a year ago, that she was not nor would she ever become evil. He prayed that he would not have to eat his words.

  “Up here brooding, or debating whether or not to throw yourself over?”

  Danny jumped, having been so lost in thought he had not noticed Bart coming to stand next to him. He watched as the werewolf took a battered pack of Marlboro reds from his back pocket and lit one.