“Well said, piccola,” Aleksei said.
“I’m getting too old for this shit,” Gillian groused under her breath, bringing a chuckle from Aleksei and the Egyptian Vampires. Trocar bothered to cock an eyebrow at her.
“You are a mere babe in arms, Gillyflower.” The dark silken voice shimmered over all of them.
Gillian was about to say something nasty when, glancing around the room, she realized he was right. Every single being in the room was a Paramortal but herself. All of them, even the Lycanthropes, had some kind of extended life span. She literally was the baby in the room. Oops. Time for diplomacy again.
Dropping her shields, she projected warmth and understanding. “You’re right, Trocar. To all of you, I am young. Too young to understand the thousands of years of history that all of you have amassed.” There. Let them know that she knew big words too. “However, I am a target, just like you. I have military and diplomatic experience, just like you. We are here to stop the spread of an evil together, so let’s not lose our focus, shall we?”
There were nods of assent around the room. “How is evil defined, Human?” a growly, raspy voice asked from somewhere in the dark corner to Gill’s left.
A Spriggan stepped forward, out of the shadow, and most of the Paramortals winced. Spriggans were ugly. There was no room for middle ground here. Their shapes shifted slightly as you looked at them, so you were never quite sure what it was you were looking at. Basically they looked like walking cow patties with eyes and mold. Ugly, short-tempered, they were capable of growing to a huge size when threatened, provoked or in battle. Part of the Sluagh Court of the Fey, Spriggans—like Nightflyers, Goblins, Jack in Irons, Hags, Red Caps, Trolls, Phoukas, Glaistigs, and a dozen other similar beings—had little love for any of the other beings in the room, Humans least of all.
Gillian swallowed hard and tried not to look repulsed. “Evil is defined by thoughts or deeds that threaten our individual cultures’ freedoms and liberties.” She had paid attention during Diplomacy 101.
It, for it was impossible to tell a Spriggan’s gender, looked at her for a moment, considering. Finally it replied, the voice now clogged with thick things but still raspy, “Very well. We will listen.” It faded back into the corner with its fellows.
Aleksei and Gillian quickly outlined Osiris’s Doctrine and the plan for unification among the Paramortals. Aleksei explained that those assembled were free to advertise the document, to encourage recruitment and to hold meetings such as this one, in order to have an organized, united front.
Gillian also pointed out that they were free not to sign the document if they were afraid of reprisals from their various cultures or communities. “No one is going to force anybody to sign this or to join this Alliance.” Her eyes locked with each of them as she scanned the room. “What we are essentially promising is to be supportive and protective of each other and our interests. This is not an anti-Dracula document. This is a pro-unification document.”
Trocar rose and, to Gillian’s and Aleksei’s surprise, produced an elegant quill from his robes and signed it. Noticing their astonishment, Trocar smiled. “I do not speak for all the Grael, but I speak for myself.”
There were nods and murmurs of assent from around the hall. One by one, either in groups or singly, the varied beings came to put signature, paw print, mark or seal on the Osiris Doctrine. Watching them, Gillian felt a swell of pride. The idea had been hers and Aleksei’s, but Osiris had come through with the diplomatic eloquence needed to reach this variety of creatures.
The door swung open suddenly, making everyone startle. Three tall, cloaked and hooded figures strode into the hallway, bows slung over their shoulders and quivers bristling with arrows, clearly visible. The lead figure reached up a gauntleted hand and shoved back its hood to reveal long glowing hair that was golden but shot through with orange, blue and violet, the colors of the setting sun, tucked back in a warrior’s braid from an elegant and heartrendingly beautiful face. He smiled at the assembled as he moved toward them. To Gillian’s surprise, the purple-garbed Fey gave a slight bow, which the approaching Fey returned.
The purple-garbed one spoke. “We are honored, Prince Dalton, Son of the Light. Why do you travel with the brethren of the woods?” he asked, gesturing toward the two remaining figures.
“Finian!” Dalton’s voice was cheerful and made the air shimmer with warmth. Gillian’s mouth went dry and her palms felt damp. Glamour. Yeah, that was it.
Gillian didn’t look at Aleksei but she could see he was watching her reaction to the approaching trio with interest. Shit, she thought. After all her training and exposure to the Fey, she thought she’d be immune to their magic. Apparently not.
“Think nothing of it, piccola,” Aleksei murmured in her mind. “I feel it too, as do they all.” His black velvet voice negated anything the Fey could throw at her.
Dalton stopped next to her and Aleksei, the two figures mirroring him, their hoods and cloaks still up. “Greetings to thee, Prince Finian, Lord of the Twilight Court. I am pleased to see thee here.” Dalton said formally, giving sort of a half bow and sweeping back his cloak to reveal a jeweled sword on his hip, just as Finian wore. Gillian wasn’t sure if it was a gesture of respect or a veiled threat.
Turning, the Fey prince motioned to his companions. Slowly, the two raised arms to their hoods and pulled them back. Twin Wood Elves, male and female, stoically regarded the room. Dalton introduced them. “Please welcome Aisling and Gunnolf Crosswind. They have been my traveling companions of late and wish to offer the services of the Woodland people in this momentous endeavor.”
Gillian felt the familiar wrench at her heart whenever she met one of the Fey or Elves. Trocar, she was used to. He was no less heartwrenchingly lovely than the newcomers or the Vampires but he was familiar and didn’t have the same effect when she saw him daily. The newcomers were breathtaking. Their hair was a rich chestnut brown, shimmering with light. Their eyes were as crystal gray as Aleksei’s but sparkled with starry iridescence. She gave them all greeting, right arm diagonally across her chest and a slight nod of the head. They were there to offer their services, and it never hurt to be polite.
Since Dalton’s and the Elf twins’ minds had been made up before they arrived, the rest of the signing went smoothly. Aleksei offered accommodations for the Elves and any of the Fey who wished to stay on his estate. The meeting wrapped quickly with plans for everyone to scout, recruit and report at regular intervals. The Egyptian Vampires offered to coordinate the various Teams and to keep track of everyone’s progress on weeding out Dracula’s supporters and the gaining of new allies.
It was late or early depending on whose body clock was being referred to. Gillian just wanted a hot shower and bed. Aleksei would have liked an intimate moment with her but he could sense her weariness and settled for escorting her back to the Castle, laving her defensive wounds with his healing saliva, then tucking her in after she’d bathed.
“We may have made some progress tonight,” Gillian said, her voice husky from tiredness. Reaching up, she smoothed her fingers through the handsome Vampire’s hair.
“Indeed, angelina, we seem to have awakened the need for solidarity,” Aleksei murmured, stroking her hair and pitching his voice to calm her further. He removed her hand from his hair, kissed her fingertips, then slid her hand beneath the covers. Gillian smiled tiredly and snuggled down farther, then went to sleep.
Aleksei remained sitting on the bed watching her for some time. He wondered if he would ever get used to her independence, the chances she unwittingly took, her determination to protect and soothe everyone. She was an amazing, interesting woman. He knew she was restless to get back to being a therapist and was annoyed when her soldier side asserted itself. Gillian believed that she could separate one from the other—her nurturing side and her confrontational side. Aleksei understood better than she did that she needed both sides equally. Gillian wasn’t domesticated; she was restrained for the moment by her own v
olition. When he left her, she was muttering in her sleep— growling orders to someone or something.
Key to Conspiracy Page 23
