Rachel's voice was light and feminine. “What the hell are you going to do with her?”
Marion clucked at Rachel, as though that were a stupid question, then leaned in to give her a quick peck on the lips. Rachel kissed her back absently, eyes never leaving Val.
“She's insurance. She'll force Lucas to keep Primogeniture for the challenge.”
Rachel finally looked away from Valerie, confusion on her face. “What’s Primogeniture?”
Marion giggled like a school girl, her skeletal hand raising to her lips in a parody of femininity. “Oh you Americans! No culture! No sense of tradition.”
Rachel shot a look at Val that seemed to say, ‘can you believe I put up with this everyday?’ Rachel had almost killed her yesterday. They were not buddy buddy.
“Well, Primogeniture used to apply to estates. It meant that the first born son got all the land and house and money, the kids born later got squat. If I lose tonight, Lucas could kill you too. Not just because you plotted with me but because my whole line commits treason with me. But
“Want to make a swap. You for her.
“Oh darling, I forgot. Why would you know? It's been six hundred years since there was a Challenge.” She stood straight up and adopted a lecturing posture, her hands folded together in front of her, her voice that of a teacher who liked a good flogging, “The Challenged— in this case Lucas— has the right to invoke Primogeniture. If he loses, his whole bloodline won't get wiped out. He can choose one to survive. But it doesn’t have to be the first born. Vampires try so very hard to stay alive that the threat of a whole bloodline being wiped out is enough to keep supporters on the side. Stick with the current king and they're safe. But Primogeniture means that some of these pussies who are dithering about might support us.” She looked very pleased as she watched Rachel thinking over the information.
Rachel frowned. “But she's not a vampire. Wouldn't he choose Dmitri or someone directly of his making?”
Marion’s little girl voice was back. “You need to pay attention to these things. I'm sure we have gone over this before. Haven't I? Anyway, Dmitri is head of his own line now. Lucas hasn't made a vampire in over two hundred years. I can't think of anyone he would want to walk out of that room alive.” A huge grin split her face. “Except her. He won't let her die! He'll have to choose her to keep her safe. It’s a swap darling. You will be safe if I lose. She will be safe if he loses. It's a win-win for us! Kiss me for doing something wonderful.” She closed her eyes and leaned forward, lips puckered.
Rachel ignored the upturned face. “You really think she’s that important to him?”
Marion kept her eyes closed, still waiting for a kiss. “Yes. Ahem.”
A smile tugged at Rachel's lips as she leaned forward to kiss Marion. The kiss was tentative, no more than a quick brush of lips. Marion trembled and leaned forward so that Rachel supported her weight. She took Marion's lip into her mouth and bit down hard, Marion squealing in surprise or pain. She pulled Marion into her arms, kissing her in earnest until blood slid down Marion's chin.
Val felt queasy and looked at the floor.
The pair broke apart and Rachel wiped up the stray trail of blood on Marion's chin with her thumb, sucking it into her mouth as Marion watched her avidly.
Thank god she hadn’t eaten before coming here.
She liked gay people, she could care less what they got up to, but murderous lesbians who drank each other's blood was a bit more tolerance than Val could muster. One had to draw the line somewhere, right?
Marion snapped her fingers and a long black cloak appeared. She draped it around Val, hiding her face. “Now, you are to be quiet and helpful. You will do everything I say, exactly as I tell you to, or I will break something of yours, like an arm or a neck. Do you understand?”
Val nodded jerkily.
“Great. I hate misunderstandings.”
Rachel extended her arm and Marion grasped it as they led the way.
“Tell me what to expect,” Rachel said.
Marion sighed theatrically. “Oh, well. Let’s see. Everyone will get there, have a chat and catch up— time passes so quickly sometimes. I remember the last time we had a meeting, Genevieve was still making that ridiculous joke about not seeing me since Pompeii went to hell. You see what’s so ridiculous about that, right? It was 79 ad for crying out loud. Even Lucas wasn’t around! Anyway, so you have to gab a little, then we’ll sit down and Lucas will demand that everyone swear fealty to him. First up is Bruce, big mountain of a man with a deliciously wicked scar on his face. It took out his eye, poor brute. Anyway, he’s a swordsman.”
“Does he stand a chance of killing Lucas?”
“Good god, no! This is a question of attrition. We throw men at him until the job is done. We are going to peck him apart like a bird. And what a pecker Bruce has. Oh poo, don’t be jealous. If he can get in a good thrust or two—no, I’m not trying to antagonize you— then that should be sufficient.”
“Lucas is almost invincible. I worry that— ”
“No, darling, hush. Lucas was near invincible, but after last night he’s quite weakened. Even if he’d gobbled down a few werewolves since last night, he wouldn’t be up to his full strength. Between the poison, blood loss and power transfers, he’s weak. Look at dead girl walking here. It took a hell of a lot to fix her.” Marion threw a glance at Val, “Bruce will stab him at least once or twice and so will the others. One after the other, all night long. Have faith. Lucas will be dead before sunrise. And I will get a tiara.”
Valerie tried to keep quiet, straining to catch every word. Was it true that Lucas was in such bad shape? She thought of him leaving by the door, not even willing to dematerialize last night.
She put her hand in her purse, hoping the cloak would hide any movement. She found the stake, but left it there. The bottle of holy water was small but much easier to hide in her hand. Even if it didn’t help, she needed something to help her feel more confident.
They walked down a wide hallway. The ground was covered in flagstone and she could hear water dripping, like they were in a cave. Torches were lit periodically, shadowy pools of darkness gaping between each one.
They reached a set of doors where two guards stood impassively. They wore swords and had their heads covered in helmets, like knights from long ago. Marion stopped and rapped her knuckles on the helmet, the sound echoing in the hallway. “The first thing I will do is get rid of these damned suits of armor! He refuses to modernize!”
The guards opened the doors and Marion took a deep breath, patting her hair. “Let’s go get me a throne!” she said happily.
Chapter 16
Prague, Czech Republic
Marion told Val to stay close as they entered. The room was filled with rows of chairs and crowded. At least a hundred vampires filled the hall. She looked around slowly at the male and female vampires who were chatting and laughing, as though this were a fashion show, not a contest to the death.
The group was decidedly odd, not just their PC appearance (Pigmentally Challenged as Val liked to say). But it was like a conference collision, with half the attendees dressed in business wear and the other half dressed like they were going to an adult Halloween Party. A party where inhibitions and life expectancies were left at the door.
Lucas was seated in a massive throne that was covered in red velvet. He'd cut his hair and all those silken strands that she’d been unable to resist touching were gone. His hair was wavy. Some of it fell forward onto his forehead while the back was barely long enough to graze his collar. He looked modern, the haircut exposing his cheekbones, making him look more alive.
His clothes were different too. He was no longer in a modern suit, but wearing what she could only describe as gentleman's clothing from three hundred years ago. He wore breeches and even hose. Hose! How could a man make tights look so sexy? His shirt was ivory and unbuttoned at the throat, he looked like a romantic hero come to life.
Val realized that she h
adn't really understood that Lucas had lived through civilizations, discarding centuries and customs like clothing, until now. But now, he looked like a warrior. A man who had survived for over a millennia, because he was stronger, fiercer, and more beautiful than any other man.
He was deceptively relaxed, his chin resting on one large hand as he watched the vampires below him. His gaze moved to Marion and Rachel, then beyond, settling on Val. She wondered if he could sense her through the cloak. She felt her heartbeat slow as he watched her. A wave of energy enveloped her and she felt herself answering an unvoiced question.
'Yes, it's me. I'm here.' The response was almost intangible, but she felt it well from her and radiate outwards towards him. He didn't change expression and she wondered if she’d imagined the odd connection. Was it real? A reaction to having his blood inside of her?
Lucas looked away from her as though bored. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the throne.
Marion hissed something at her and pushed her into a chair, her back slamming against the wood. She made a slight noise and found Lucas' gaze back upon her. He shook his head slightly, his gaze leaving her and continuing around the room.
She tried to reach him again, still wondering if the connection from a moment ago had been real or imagined. His shoulders tensed and felt the connection she hadn't really recognized, shut down.
She clenched the holy water tight.
There was nothing to do but wait.
With a hush, the vampires stilled and Val got goose bumps. A guard behind Lucas moved forward, a silver staff in his hands. He stopped at the edge of the steps and struck the ground with his staff three times, the sound crashing through the room in a heavy beat.
Then he stepped back to his place behind the dais and Marion stood. Murmurs rose around the room.
Marion stood before him and waited. Lucas was patient, letting the moment drag out until the excitement in the crowd swelled, then began to subside. Valerie realized Lucas was a showman, playing the crowd. Seconds passed as Lucas and Marion stared at each other.
Marion broke the stare, head jerking up haughtily. As far as a dominance contest went, Lucas won. He looked around the room, all the other vampires looking away or at their feet as his gaze touched them.
He spoke, voice deep and flowing with almost no accent, “My child, will you not bow before your maker?” he said, chidingly.
Marion's voice rang out in response, “No, my liege. My path is no longer with yours. We are via fracta and I offer you Challenge.” Valerie heard the formality in the words and translated the Latin to ‘a break in the road’.
Lucas inclined his head and Marion arranged her skirts, preparing to sit back down in her seat.
“I decline Primogeniture. If I am victorious I will claim the blood of your house, and consign the memory of your name to those of the Forgotten before you. If you lose, Rachel dies. Every vampire created by one who Challenges me will die. Are there any who support my child, Marion?”
The silence lengthened as Valerie nervously waited to see who the Challengers were.
Marion stood again and gestured for Valerie to stand. Valerie stayed seated and Marion yanked her upwards, the cloak pulled away from her and thrown to the floor in a flashy move.
Some of the vampires leaned forward as though to see her better, while others nodded and a few froze. Lucas turned his gaze to Marion. “I understand your eagerness for death, but you must respect the sanctity of ritual. I assume you have something to say before we continue?”
Marion seemed vaguely nonplussed by Lucas' lack of reaction at Val’s reveal. “If I am victorious, I claim your house, Lucas, son of Tiberius Junius. Do you wish to offer Primogeniture and save one of your own?” Her voice was smug, her grip biting.
Lucas smiled again, a wicked smile that made Valerie shiver. “I do not.”
Her heart froze in her chest, coldness and terror slamming into her so that her next breath was a stutter. If Lucas lost she would die too. He wouldn’t save her or do anything to spare her. And she’d trusted him? Talk about bad taste in men.
She felt Rachel startle beside her and Marion's grip loosened briefly. “Do you know how I will kill her?” Her voice was lethal.
“I'm more interested in how I will kill you. You guessed wrong Marion. I will not protect her.”
Marion snarled and turned to Valerie, shaking her like a ragdoll, venting her frustration. One hand was on her shoulder, twisting for leverage, the other on Val’s chin, like she was going to pull the head off a toy doll.
Frantically, she pulled the cork out of the bottle of holy water, throwing it in Marion’s face. Marion let go of her, recoiling backwards in pain, her skin sizzling, the smell of burning meat filling the room. Marion screamed and reached for Valerie with a snarl. Val threw herself backwards, desperate to escape.
Lucas' booming voice made Marion freeze. “You cannot touch her until after you win, Marion! Kill her and Rachel dies in exchange.”
Val fell, tripping over the leg of a chair, but someone caught her before she hit the ground. It was Lucas, at her side before she could hit the ground.
He righted her gently, holding out his arm to her. Her hand shook as she placed it around his bicep, letting him tuck her close to him.
Lucas led her up the steps of the dais, walking her to a chair that sat against the wall, next to one of the guards, before gesturing for her to sit down. She sat, back to the wall, facing the crowd, but obscured from Lucas' view by the back of his throne.
Her breathing was ragged, adrenaline and fear twisting through her stomach. All the vampires in the audience were staring at her.
Incongruously, she thought about how ordinary she must appear next to Lucas: her boring jeans and rumpled shirt, compared to his bright splendor. He knelt down before her, his eyes looking into hers for a moment. Quickly, he caressed a hand down her cheek before standing and walking away from her.
What did that mean? Was it an apology for denying to save her? Marion had brought her here expecting Lucas to keep her safe. If he lost, she’d still walk out of here alive and he’d said no. If he died tonight, so did she. Did he really think a friendly gesture, like patting a dog on the head was going to make her forgive that? Fat fucking chance.
Here was another example of how stupid she'd been to believe him. And then to let him do those things to her last night. Let him? Okay, the truth was, she'd wanted him— bad. She’d not only been an active participant but the aggressor.
To think she’d spent so long loving Jack from a distance, never having the cajones to do anything about it. And now she might die, and what had she accomplished? Nothing. All the time she’d spent running away from her destiny and she was still ass deep in vampires.
Full circle. Back where I started.
She made a vow, if she got out of here alive she was going to make a change, Tina Turner style: kick the vampire to the curb and hound Jack until he gave their relationship a chance.
She'd wound up with nothing because she'd been so guarded. Lesson learned.
Her deep contemplations were interrupted by a burly vampire with curly hair and a scar down the side of his face. The first several vampires had sworn featly to Lucas. They’d approached the dais, given a little bow, said a few words about how great he was and how they’d follow him to the death, but this one was different— Bruce. It had to be.
The room became still and the weight of the vampires’ collective gaze was like a shimmer before her eyes. The heavily muscled vampire walked up to the throne and didn't bow. She saw Lucas’ shoulders straighten as he leaned slightly forward. A quick strain of thoughts and images came to her, muffled like someone was playing music but then they shut the window, cutting off the sound. He won that fight in Verona…not in a fair fight.
Love is Darkness (A Valerie Dearborn Novel) Page 25
