Night Veil

by Galenorn, Yasmine

  “Did you miss me, wherever you disappeared to?” he murmured. “Or did you just decide to vex me, to not answer my call? Hmmm?” He cocked his head, showing a bit more of his fangs, as he pressed against me. I could feel him, straining at his jeans, hard and rigid and waiting for the slightest provocation.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t answer.” It took everything I had to keep my voice civil. “I had an errand to do . . . one assigned by Lainule. There was no time to tell anyone where I was going.”

  He perked up, his smile growing by a fraction of an inch. “Lainule? An errand, you say? I wonder what this errand was? Did it have anything to do with your wolfen lover, perhaps?”

  As I shook my head, he crowded closer and, in a tender voice, said, “Tell me, have you ever fucked Grieve when he was in wolf form? If so, I want to know every detail. And I’ll know if you lie. Remember that, Cicely. I’ll always know if you lie to me. And I’ll punish you.”

  Horrified, I whirled around, only to find myself fully in his arms. “No,” I said hoarsely. “No, and I never will—I am not of the wolfen Cambyra.”

  He laughed. “You’re blushing! How delightful. What a little priss you are. I’ll just have to find the perfect way to corrupt you. And what fun that will be. Now, be a good little slave and kiss me, Cicely. Give me enough reason not to drink you down tonight.”

  I could see Rhiannon and Leo watching from the side. Rhia looked on the verge of tears, and Leo—it was impossible to read his expression. He’d donned a pair of sunglasses and I couldn’t see his eyes. A glance to their right showed Regina watching with a triumphant look. A sick feeling in my stomach, I allowed Lannan to lean in for a kiss.

  My wolf began to whimper as Lannan pressed his lips against mine. The taste of the grave, of dust and old embers and bonfires long dead, of death and silk and apple brandy filtered into my mouth along with his tongue. A heat began to burn in my legs, working slowly up my body as I shifted against him. Against my heart, I was kissing him back, rubbing against him as his hands cupped my back and ass. He was intoxicating, passion incarnate, and my body lapped up the feel of his energy like kittens lapping cream.

  And then he rubbed his hand along my back and the pain broke through the haze. I let out a little cry and he let go.

  “You didn’t resist me. I rather miss that,” he whispered. “But what’s this?” He pulled my shawl away and peeked at my back. “What—who did this to you? What happened?”

  I stumbled for words. “I don’t know. It was . . . a magical attack.”

  “You’re lying.” His voice was flat, warning me.

  “I . . . someone attacked Grieve and his pain became mine.”

  Lannan stared at me for a moment, then let out a harsh laugh. “You are so very linked to him that you take on his pain? How brilliant. How utterly precious. Perhaps we can put a stop to that. I will not have you marred by someone other than myself. It’s not becoming.”

  I wanted to protest but then shut my mouth as Geoffrey and Regina motioned to us. Lannan joined them.

  Geoffrey pointed to me. “Come.” He glanced at Leo and Rhiannon. “You two enjoy the party. Don’t get yourselves in trouble.”

  And with that, I followed the three vampires into Geoffrey’s office.

  Geoffrey took his place behind his desk, while Regina sat on the corner of it, crossing her legs so that the smooth pale skin of her thigh flashed through the slit in her skirt. Lannan motioned for me to sit on the love seat and then parked himself beside me, his hand on my knee.

  I stared at it for a moment, imagining what it would be like to stick a silver pin through his palm, which led me to smile and laugh out loud.

  “You have a joke you’d like to share with the rest of us?” Regina asked.

  I blinked and lowered my gaze. “Not really . . .”

  “So, we have a situation. We need to ask Crawl, the Blood Oracle, for help. But you must be present because you are the fulcrum; you are the closest connection we have to Myst and her secrets. You have locked within you the memories of when you were part of the Indigo Court . . .”

  I stared at them. They knew. They knew I’d been Myst’s daughter, just as Chatter knew. “Am I the last one to find out? You know, don’t you?”

  Geoffrey searched my face, then nodded, a pale smile crooking his lips. “Yes, my dear. We know. You were Myst’s daughter. We weren’t going to tell you, but obviously you’ve discovered the truth. Or remembered?”

  I shook my head. “No, I didn’t remember. I was told.”

  The Regent turned a frown on Lannan. “Not from one of us, I presume?”

  Lannan snorted. “Retract your fangs, Geoffrey. I didn’t tell her. But you’re right, she needs to visit Crawl. As much as I dislike the messiness of politics, it seems we will not be allowed to live in peace as long as Myst continues to make a nuisance of herself.”

  “Nuisance?” I sat up, pulling away from him. “That’s how you think of her? Myst and her people are killing the magic-born and yummanii alike. And she’s coming after you, as well as me. If you haven’t figured out her plans, let me spell it out, Lannan: Your bloodwhores? Your favorites? All targets. Myst is strong. Terribly strong.”

  “Cicely is correct,” Regina said. “We cannot ignore Myst and you know it, my brother. The Mistress of Mayhem is out to kill all of us. Winter’s next move is coming, and we must be prepared. We need to know more about her. When you tried to turn her—”

  Here, Regina stopped and looked at Geoffrey. He blinked and shrugged. “Yes?”

  “When you tried to turn her, Myst was lost to our spies and over the eons, we’ve barely been able to keep track of her. Now we have the chance to find out how strong she’s become since she was turned. We can probe Cicely’s mind, and because in one life, she was Myst’s daughter, Crawl should be able to see back to that time and find out more about our enemy. Not all the information will be up to date, but we can at least get a feel for some of the abilities she gained after we lost sight of her.”

  Regina’s words struck terror in my heart. Crawl. My dream came rushing back to me and I leaned over, moaning as I rested my head in my hands.

  Lannan’s hand slid around my waist and he slowly raised me back up to a sitting position. “Oh, still the waterworks, girl. Crawl is . . . who he is. One of us will be there with you, to make sure he doesn’t wrap you up and suck you dry like a mosquito caught in a web.”

  I turned a bleak eye to Geoffrey. If anybody would be sympathetic, he would. “Do I have to? Crawl gives me the fucking creeps.” I didn’t care if I offended them. The last thing I wanted to do was to visit the Blood Oracle again.

  “I’m afraid so. We need to see into your memories—and since you can’t give us a clear view, we need his help. It won’t be pleasant, but it won’t hurt you as long as you don’t resist. And as Lannan so succinctly put it, one of us will be there to ensure your safety.” As he stared at me, once again, his words rang in my head.

  I’m offering you my protection again, girl. Join us in our world. I will sire you and keep you safe.

  His look was low and sultry, and I felt myself wavering. Being under Geoffrey’s rule wouldn’t be as rough as dealing with Lannan, but then, before I could entertain the idea, a spark of sanity crept in and I shook my head. There wasn’t much I could say. I had no intention of letting anyone turn me into a vampire. Besides, I had the feeling it would spark off a war between Lannan and Geoffrey, with me suffering the consequences.

  No thank you, but—thank you, for the offer. If I were to ask anyone to turn me, it would be you.

  He inclined his head at the same time that Lannan clamped his hand around my waist. “Then we take you to Crawl. And I claim the right to see you through the ordeal. Can’t have you losing your way, now can we?” And with a look that spoke volumes, he told me exactly what I already knew: If Geoffrey ever turned me, Lannan would be out for blood.

  “I think perhaps we’d better let Geoffrey take her. I have another engagement
and you, my brother, tend to set Crawl off on his tangents.” Regina stood and smoothed her skirt.

  But Geoffrey, his face humorless and taciturn, let out a rough laugh. “No, let Lannan take her. I have guests to attend to.” And with a last look at me, his thoughts were clear.

  I offered you safety from him, but you obviously prefer Lannan’s ministrations to mine. Remember: Being a vampire is not altogether unpleasant.

  Taken aback, I let out a little cry. No—don’t leave me to him. I’m part Cambyra Fae; you would turn me to something akin to Myst and I could not bear the thought.

  You are only half Cambyra . . . I doubt very much that you would shift over to one of the Indigo Court. But this is your choice. Do not come crying to me when he tears you down, although if you change your mind, I am here.

  I stared bleakly as he left the room, the door closing behind him with a soft hush. Regina waited for a moment, then turned to me.

  “My brother will take you to Crawl.” Her look was almost one of pity, but she, too, turned to follow Geoffrey. With one last look over her shoulder, she added, “Lannan—do not lose her. She means too much to us. And do not let Crawl touch her. You know, as well as I do, that he lives to feed on flesh again, but we dare not let him touch a mortal . . . be they magic-born, human, or Fae. I mean it—you are under strict orders from the Crown. She comes back in one piece, with her mind intact.”

  Lannan laughed. “I hear you, sweet sister. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have our fun, now does it?”

  “Then do as you please.” Regina shut the door behind her and I was left alone with Lannan.

  Chapter 11

  Crawl. Lannan was taking me to see Crawl.

  Who knew if I’d come back whole? Who knew if I’d ever come back at all? I wrapped my arms around me, shivering. Lannan circled me and I knew he was waiting for me to speak, but I couldn’t say a word.

  “What are you thinking, Cicely?” Lannan slowly reached out and lifted my chin so that I was forced to stare at him.

  I swallowed, the feel of his fingers on my skin making me breathless and angry. Finally, after a moment, I told him the truth. “I’m afraid. Crawl terrifies me. You terrify me.”

  Lannan smiled, slow and seductive. “Good. So very good. You should be afraid of us. But never fret, my luscious. I will protect you from the Blood Oracle. He is my sire, you know—as he is also Regina’s. He was a vampire for far longer than he’s been the Blood Oracle, but two thousand years ago, he underwent the ritual that changed him into what he is now.”

  “He really is a seer, isn’t he?” And as I asked, it hit me like a ton of bricks: It wasn’t just Crawl I was afraid of; it was what he might see.

  “Yes, he is.” Lannan’s voice was suddenly hoarse and he brushed a flyaway strand of hair out of my eyes. “Crawl is the eyes of the Vampire Nation, as our Crimson Queen is the heart and fist. You fear his words. You fear his visions—but everyone dies, Cicely. If that’s what you fear he might say, remember: There are those of us who’ve come through death and returned.”

  “I don’t know if it’s death I fear,” I said softly, pulling away and turning toward the heavily draped window. “I faced it every day on the streets with my mother.”

  “Then what do you fear?” His hand crept along my shoulder.

  I wanted to shake it off but forced myself to just stand there. “Losing Grieve again. Losing my cousin. Seeing them hurt.”

  “Are you truly so selfless? It’s my observation, through thousands of years, that few of the humans, few of the magic-born, are so generous. There’s always an agenda, Cicely. You think I have one and you’re right. But so do you. You don’t help us out of the goodness of your heart. You signed the contract—”

  “I signed the contract because you threatened me. Yes, it was self-preservation. I personally don’t give a fuck if you and the Indigo Court kill each other off, but I also know that they hold the advantage, and dealing with you is a lot more palatable than dealing with the Vampiric Fae. Myst is a hurricane bearing down on our shores. You . . . you are the shark in the water.”

  “Ha! You still have your sense of humor.” He laughed, then pulled me to him and planted a long kiss on me, his tongue prying my mouth open as he ran his hands over my butt. “I want you. You make me burn.”

  “You want me because I don’t want you.” But my words were a gasp on the wind.

  “I can make you want me. I can make you beg.” But then he slowly let go. “But first, I must take you to see the Blood Oracle. Do you remember Regina’s admonishments from before?”

  I wanted to say, How could I forget? but then decided that it might be better to ask for a refresher. So much had happened—and it couldn’t hurt to be cautious. “I think so, but please, refresh my memory.”

  “No sudden moves. Never address him directly—ask all questions through me. Never let him stare you down.” He stopped, then abruptly sniffed me and asked, “You aren’t on your period, are you?”

  Blushing, I shook my head. It was useless to resist.

  “Good, because the smell of menstrual blood drives him into a frenzy.” Lannan grabbed my hand then and pulled me over to the bookshelf. This time I watched closely and took note of the name of the book he used to open the secret entrance. A copy of The Secret Garden. Never knew if I’d need the info someday, but I didn’t say anything. Vampires liked their secrets.

  The door opened and we slipped inside. The room was as dark as I remembered it, and the table still sat in the center, the single lightbulb illuminating it from overhead. Magic lived here. Magic deep and old, like tentacles creeping in the dark.

  Like Crawl, I thought.

  I kept within the field of light. The shadowed corners promised to hold danger. Scuttling things, things that might eat me alive and spit out my bones. On the center of the table rested a crystal, floating above a crimson slab of glowing glass. The first time they’d taken me to see Crawl—before I pledged myself to working with the vampires—I’d seen it, and I’d been too petrified to say a word.

  This time, I turned to Lannan. “What is that?”

  He gazed at me softly, then, with a pout, shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Nobody’s ever seen fit to tell me.” A slight edge to his voice told me that he wasn’t all too happy with the situation. “My sister, as much as I love her, doesn’t think I can keep my mouth shut. And Geoffrey . . .” He stopped, his face clouding over. “You might think Geoffrey is your savior, waiting to rescue you from me, but there’s far more to the Regent than you think. Once a warlord, always a warlord. Remember that, Cicely, when it comes to picking your sire. Or your sides.”

  I coughed. “I’m not planning on picking a sire. I have no intention of becoming a vampire.”

  But Lannan continued as if I hadn’t said a word. “My guess: Either you’ll be forced into Myst’s servitude, or you’ll choose one of us. I recommend me, for obvious reasons, but if you hate me so much, then choose my sister. She’s safer to be around than Geoffrey, though you may not believe me right now.”

  He pushed me toward the table and leaned over the crystal, his gaze totally caught up in the spinning crimson lights that began to emerge.

  “Take my hand. Now.”

  I obeyed, reaching out to clasp his cold fingers. Like a hurricane, the energy began to spin, whirling into a giant eye, and we were caught in the maelstrom. And without further ado, we went sliding through the rabbit hole.

  Peeling pages off the calendar, we went sailing through the ether, buffeted by gale-force winds to every side. We were the fence posts caught by the tornado, a boat caught in storm surge, trees crowning from wildfire. I clung to Lannan’s hand, no longer caring who he was—he was a lifeline and if I let go, I knew I’d be lost.

  It could have been seconds or hours, but the spinning lights died down and we came to rest in a room I remembered all too well. Crawl’s temple. Huge, reverberating with energy, the chamber stretched beyond my sight line, the ceilings well over thirty feet
tall. The walls were a blur of crimson—I’d thought it paper the first time I was here, but now it looked like blood, staining the hall. Benches lined the walls, magical sigils covered the floor, and the scent of ancient magic filtered through every corner, every inch of the temple.

  Lannan put his arm around my waist, and for once I did not resist as he led me forward, toward the dais. The walkway was Tuscan gold, but unmarred by magical symbols, and I knew better than to step off the path. All the while, I held back, not wanting to approach the raised platform. I knew who waited, and one visit had been enough.

  But then, within a blink and a skip, we were there. Lannan stepped in front of me and, much to my surprise, knelt at the foot of the dais covered in curtains.

  “Rise, son of Crawl. The Blood Oracle recognizes you. Stand, Wild One, and beseech. Answers will be offered for payment.” The voice came from behind the curtains, rasped and harsh, the whistle of the wind through ancient ruins, the sound of ghosts on the wind.

  Slowly, Lannan stood. “My Master. I come seeking your help.”

  And then, he was there, at the edge of the platform. Crawl. The Blood Oracle. The vampire every other vampire revered, perhaps even more than their queen. Crawl, almost unrecognizable—if he’d ever been human, it didn’t show. Crawl, who was more a force than a being anymore.

  Bent and twisted, Crawl crept rather than walked, like a bug or a spider. His skin was blackened, charred by some unseen fire that burned from deep within him, his hair falling in clumps of dreadlocks long lignified.

  In front of the dais, rising up to his reach, stood a fountain of bubbling blood, ringed by unwavering flames. The blood was fresh, smelling fetid and cloying, and it sounded like a brook. Crawl’s lidless eyes gleamed with a sudden intensity when he saw me standing behind Lannan.