Night Veil

by Galenorn, Yasmine

  “Cicely? Cicely? Wake up, Cicely.” My cousin’s gentle voice broke through the cloud of sleep and I opened my eyes. I was still in the tub, only most of the bubbles were gone and the water was lukewarm. “Come on, let’s get you out of the water and into a nightgown.”

  She helped me out of the bathtub as I tried to keep my eyes open. We returned to the bedroom, where she gently towel-dried me, then slid a flannel nightie over my head.

  “I brought a balm for your stomach, and your food. And some chamomile tea with valerian tincture in it. I figured you’d be too tired to come downstairs. I found Peyton asleep in the tub, too.”

  Laughing, I pulled up my nightgown and let her gently rub the soothing balm across the flowering bruise that covered part of my wolf. The colors were spectacular—brilliant black and blue, in a rose pattern.

  I managed to corral my thoughts long enough to ask, “How’s Kaylin?”

  “Sleeping like a baby. Here, eat this and drink the tea—it’s meant to ease pain in the muscles and joints and will help your general fatigue.” She guided me over to the desk, on which sat a tray. The plate was stacked with pancakes and two eggs, scrambled, along with six slices of bacon, a glass of orange juice, and a cup of tea in a cute cat mug.

  Spearing a piece of egg, I popped it into my mouth and the rising scent woke my stomach. “I’m starving,” I said, shoveling in the food. “I can’t believe how hungry I am. I thought I was too tired to eat, but . . .”

  “You haven’t had food for two days and you wore out your body. Of course you’re hungry. I bet you lost about five pounds out there.”

  “Not the way to lose weight, and I don’t want to lose muscle. Next time I go on a trip with Chatter, remind me to take some protein bars.” I bit into the golden pancake. “Umm, a piece of heaven. I love maple syrup.”

  “Me, too.” Rhia paused, then said, “Not to bring up distressing thoughts, but what do you think Lannan wants?”

  I took a long sip of the tea, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste from the valerian, but I knew it would soothe me and help me sleep deep.

  “I know what he wants—he wants to fuck me, humiliate me, and make me grovel. He gets off on it. But other than that? I’m not sure. I don’t trust him, but he can help us and I’m bound to him by contract. And contracts with vampires are enforceable by law.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She played with the napkin she’d put on the tray, twisting the corners. “Drink the rest of that tea—Leo said it will help.”

  I nodded, chugging down the orange juice first, then sipping the scalding hot tea. It smelled faintly of licorice, and of earth and rock and root. But the taste was slightly bitter, with a hint of summer infusing the chamomile. The herbs settled in my stomach and my wolf stopped growling as both balm and tea set in to soothe the aching muscles.

  “What I’m wondering is how this is going to affect Kaylin. The night-veil demon that we woke—it’s powerful, Rhia. Powerful, and very chaotic, and it didn’t want to knuckle under.” I shrugged. “This is going to change the Kaylin we knew, and whether that change will be for the better or worse—I don’t know.”

  My eyes were closing and I could barely keep them open. Rhia pulled down my covers. “Get into bed, and don’t worry about it for the night. Don’t worry about anything. You need sleep.”

  As she gently covered me up, tucking me in like I was a little girl, I could hear the great horned owl hooting in the oak, whispering for me to come and play. I drifted off before I could answer his siren song.

  “Cicely . . . Cicely Waters.”

  I blinked, expecting to see the morning light, but as I sat up, I found myself in the middle of a swirling vortex. A creature sat at the distant center, reeling me in, and I had a sudden squirming in my stomach that told me I wanted nothing doing with him or what he represented.

  “Bring her here,” he said, crouching like a spider. “Bring her forward and let me read her future.”

  “As you wish.” The smooth voice by my side was too smooth—too polished—and I whirled around to find myself facing Lannan. He gave me a slow smile and wink. “My lovely young juice box. Guess where we’re going?”

  And then I knew—he was taking me to see Crawl, the Blood Oracle.

  “No—I won’t go. You can’t make me go back to see that freakshow!” I struggled, trying to get away from Lannan, but he held me tight and drew me in, his black-as-night eyes flashing with fire.

  “Give yourself to me. Kneel before me. Acknowledge my superiority. You resist me and it drives me crazy. You refuse to bend to my power and it makes me want to reach out, to break you. You are not my better—you are not above me!” He threw me to the ground, and I began to whimper as he began to unbuckle his belt. “I’ll give you something to whimper about, my pretty one.”

  But then, creeping through the slipstream, came Crawl’s raspy voice, like the wind sweeping through hollow husks on a cold autumn night.

  Bring her to me. She is a fulcrum to this war. Bring her to me and do not tarry. We have no time. Blood is streaming like the sands of time and our people are in danger. The girl is our key to victory.

  Lannan glared at Crawl, then down at me, and then he buckled his belt again and grabbed me by the wrist. “Just wait,” he whispered as we headed toward the center of the whirlwind. “I’ve got so many special things planned for you. You’re not going to be sitting down for a month, girlie. And I will have my satisfaction.”

  I began struggling to get away, but the whirling spiral pulled us in ever farther. As we approached the Blood Oracle, I began to scream and scream . . . and my voice echoed in the night.

  “Cicely! Are you okay?” Once again, I was being shaken awake, but this time it was Kaylin, his eyes dark and flashing with an inner light.

  I struggled to sit up, both terrified by the dream and leery of him. “Kaylin, what are you doing here?”

  He sat down on the bedside and put a light hand on my shoulder, pushing me back against my pillow. “You were having a nightmare. I came to wake you.”

  When I realized he wasn’t going to clobber me again, I stopped resisting and scooted back against the headboard. “Was I screaming?”

  “No, but I could feel your unrest.” Once again a flash of light echoed through his eyes, and I felt a sudden rush of apprehension. “When you summoned my demon to wake, you created a connection. I can feel your dreams now.”

  Hell. I hadn’t seen that coming. Nor did I want it—I already felt bound to too many people. Grieve, through my wolf; Lannan, through blood. Now Kaylin, through dreams. What would this mean?

  “How far away can you feel me when I sleep? I have some pretty . . . interesting dreams at times.” I blushed, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “I don’t think distance is a factor. I don’t know if it will last, and don’t fear—I won’t intrude,” he said, leaning in, his voice husky. “Not unless you want me to.”

  And that was not an innocent remark. Of that I was sure, but I decided to ignore it for now. “Um, okay. Listen, how are you? What time is it? How long was I asleep?”

  Kaylin glanced at the bedside clock. “It’s five in the morning. I’ve been awake since three. I have no idea when you went to sleep.”

  “Around nine.” I stared at his face, searching for signs that the night-veil was in control, but all I could see was Kaylin. After a moment, I blurted out, “I dreamed about Lannan, and Crawl. He was taking me to see the Blood Oracle. Dragging me, rather. And Crawl was saying that I’m a fulcrum in the war and their victory depends on me.”

  Kaylin considered my words, then gave me a slow nod. “I think your dream was predictive. It sounds like something that may come to pass.”

  I cringed, thinking of Lannan’s part in it. I didn’t want it to be predictive; I wanted it to be a nightmare. I decided to keep my mouth shut about the rest of it—no use getting everybody stirred up over something that might not happen.

  But a voice inside whispered, You know what Lannan wants, a
nd you know he’ll stop at nothing to get it. And that was worse than thinking Crawl wanted to see me.

  “Was it hard?” Kaylin asked, and I stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he was asking. All I could think of was Lannan and his sick fascination with me.

  “Hard? What?”

  “Forcing my demon to submit to me?”

  I did blush then, and because I knew he’d find out one way or another, I pulled away the cover and showed him the bruise on my stomach. By now it was the size of a cantaloupe.

  “Did I do that?” His voice was quiet, and he looked taken aback.

  “Yeah, you did. But really, it was your demon. You never would have punched me like that if you’d been in control.”

  He pressed his lips together and turned to go. Over his shoulder, he said, “I’m sorry, Cicely. I’ll find a way to make it up to you. I would never deliberately hurt you. I hope you know that.”

  But even as he left, I silently padded to the door of my room and locked it. No use taking any more chances.

  I went back to sleep and slept dreamlessly until ten in the morning, when a splash of unexpected sunlight filtered through the window to land on my face. Blinking, I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and slipped out from beneath the covers. My breath came in cold puffs and, as I padded to the window to look over the frozen world below, it occurred to me that I’d need to turn up the heat. The house had central heating, and usually the second floor was a lot colder than the first.

  I shoved my arms into my bathrobe and gazed down on the wonderland that spread out across the backyard and forest. The snow was beautiful, picture-perfect, and the sun glinted across the white diamonds covering the world and through the icicles hanging off the roof of the house. One icicle had grown all the way to the ground and must have been a good thirty feet long. The sunlight reflected through it, fracturing into prisms that skittered off the frozen cascade of water.

  Delighted, I let myself sink into the beauty of the season, trying to put Myst out of my mind for a little while. If she weren’t around, we could enjoy the winter so much more.

  If she weren’t around, the winter would be warmer and raining, not a thick layer of snow. Ulean swept up behind me, gently hugging me with her currents.

  You were Myst’s daughter, you fool! She’s out to destroy you for betraying her! Chatter’s words came tumbling back as I gazed over the woodland. I had pushed them out of my mind, focused on the job to be done but now . . . now in the clear light of morning, after sleeping and regaining some semblance of clearheadedness, I couldn’t ignore them.

  Chatter said that Myst was my mother . . . in the other life.

  Ulean let forth a sigh, which rolled over me like a cool wind on a spring morning. Chatter should not have opened his mouth, but he did. Yes, it is true. You are—were—Myst’s daughter. You were on the verge of figuring that out on your own, though, so don’t blame him for telling you.

  I’m not sure what to do with that. I shook my head, not sure how to process the information . . . not sure what it meant for the future. I’m not Indigo Court now, am I?

  No, you are Cambyra Fae and magic-born. But you bear the trace markers in your soul of that time—which is how Myst recognized you. Do not worry, you don’t have their nature. Even then, you didn’t have their nature—not unless your loved ones were threatened. You were a misfit, miscast in your role as the Queen’s daughter. Ulean enfolded me in her gentle breeze. You are a good person, Cicely. Do not doubt that.

  I closed my eyes, trying to summon the memories, but they were hidden still, and the only glimpses I had were those that had already come to me. But knowing who I had been—knowing what I’d been capable of—terrified me. What if my nature from then came back? What if Myst wanted to turn me, to use me against my friends like she was using my aunt?

  Too many questions spinning in my head, I pushed away from the window as clouds began to sock in and a light flurry of snow started. It was as if Myst could read my thoughts and had come to douse any hope the sunlight had promised.

  “Cicely? Are you awake?” Rhiannon’s voice echoed from outside my door as she tapped on it lightly.

  I hurried over to unlock it. “Yeah, I’m awake.”

  “Come down to breakfast. Leo’s out and about, and he left you a message.” She looked pale, and I wondered if the strain of all of this was getting to be too much on her. Heather, her mother, had been captured and turned by our enemy. Rhiannon was struggling to control her own powers and heritage. And from what I could tell, she wasn’t as strong as I was.

  I cinched the terry-cloth robe tighter and slid into a pair of fuzzy slippers, following her downstairs to the kitchen.

  There, next to a big breakfast of sausage and eggs and toast, sat an envelope with a bloodred rose seal, and my name on it. I recognized the slanted writing—it was from Regina, Lannan’s sister.

  I stared at it, not wanting to open it. Not wanting to know what the vampires were demanding from me now. I was their pawn, their hope in this war, and after my dream about Lannan and Crawl, I longed to crawl away and hide somewhere. Finally, I opened the flap and pulled out a single sheet of linen paper, along with two checks.

  The writing was, again, Regina’s.

  Cicely: Your monthly stipend is enclosed. Also: We request your presence this evening at a small soiree at Geoffrey’s, along with Leo Bryne and your cousin Rhiannon. Formal cocktail attire—use the enclosed to buy something appropriate for yourself. Lannan requests you choose something in black with red accessories. A limousine will arrive for you at 7:30 P.M. Attendance is required. Best, Regina.

  I swallowed a bite of toast, staring at the two checks. One, for twenty-five hundred dollars, was my monthly pay, for my second month of indentured servitude. The other was for three thousand dollars, and as I stared at it, I realized the writing on it was not Regina’s, nor was it Geoffrey’s—his I recognized on my monthly paycheck.

  Lannan . . . it had to be from Lannan. Which meant that he was planning something and I was his target. Angry, I folded the checks and slipped them into my purse. I had to obey—they practically owned me. But that didn’t mean I had to like it.

  “Heads up,” I said to Rhia. “You and Leo and I are required to attend a cocktail party at Geoffrey’s tonight.”

  She shuddered. “I wonder just what kind of cocktails we’ll be expected to drink. Can vampires eat or drink alcohol?”

  “I dunno,” I said, softly. “But contract or no contract, I’m not drinking any Bloody Marys while I’m there.”

  Rhiannon broke out laughing. “Me either.” She glanced at the clock. “I keep thinking I have to be at work, but the school’s shut for winter holidays from now till the New Year, so what do you want to do today?”

  I thought about the money burning a hole in my purse and shrugged. “Since we were gone longer than we expected, Peyton and I put off opening our headquarters. She has to work for Anadey today. What say you and I go shopping? My treat.” And with that, for the first time in a while, I felt like smiling. Lannan be damned . . . Even though I hated giving him a reason to feel smug, the thought of spending a few hours shopping with my cousin, and maybe taking in a quiet lunch, seemed like heaven.

  “Sounds good,” Rhia said. “Finish your breakfast and then get dressed while I do the dishes.” So I cleaned my plate, shimmied into a pair of jeans and a turtleneck, and in no time, we headed out for the mall.

  Chapter 9

  The New Forest Mall was like most malls in the country: a mixture of the bland but necessary (think Limited Express, Jean Junkies, Sizzle), to the yummy (Pizza Ria, KFC, Brent’s Ice Cream Palace), to the esoteric (Leather & Lace, Sharpen, Versailles Vamp, Magic Forest).

  There were quite a few people out and about—though no vamps, of course—but everybody seemed to be paired up, or walking in groups, and a feeling of tension reverberated through the air. Which was no surprise, given the recent spate of brutal deaths.

  Rhiannon and I deftly maneuv
ered our way through the main drag until we came to Slither. I swallowed my reluctance and entered the store, Rhia behind me. The shop was geared for clubbing, and the outfits were pretty much what I figured Lannan wanted me to wear. The money rankled. I had no intention of decking myself out to be his toy, but I had to at least meet him partway or I’d be in violation of my contract, and I knew his punishment would be swift and terrible.

  The entry was through a set of beaded curtains, and once we were inside, the light dimmed, with spotlights aimed toward the merchandise. Mannequins wore tightfitting jeans that rode so low on the hips it was hard to imagine how they stayed up, and skirts so high you couldn’t hide your panties if you tried. Sequins and glitter abounded, as well as spikes and rivets and studs.

  “I like leather, but this isn’t my style,” I said, staring at the clingy, revealing clothing. “I don’t mind showing some leg or cleavage, but I’m just not comfortable with this crap.”

  “What about this?” Rhiannon motioned to a black dress with gold threads running through it. It had a plunging keyhole neckline, which, though it showed off the cleavage, didn’t leave me with the feeling of tits on parade. The back was draped, reaching the top of the butt, and the dress was snug and form-fitting. But at least it wasn’t so short that I couldn’t bend over without worrying—and around Lannan, bending over wasn’t such a good idea.

  The material was knit and it even had a cute little butterfly charm that held the keyhole shut. I flipped through the rack until I found one in my size—most were made for girls the size of young boys, and I was most assuredly not that—and carried it into the dressing room.