Children of Shadows

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Children of Shadows Page 5

by Naylor, Joleene


  Jorick pushed the door open and waited for Katelina to go in first. “He’s not as terrible as you think. You notice he stopped when the guard hinted at repercussions.” He gave her a wink. “You humans aren’t allowed to wander off without your masters, you know.”

  “Bite me,” she muttered as she walked inside. The room was as decadent as their last experience in Munich. A large bed was clothed in red satin and heaped with pillows. Red upholstered chairs sat between carved furniture. Instead of a second bed, a pair of coffins sat on low, polished platforms, in case the vampire guests preferred a more traditional sleep. Gilt framed paintings of trees and medieval figures hung on the walls. She knew from experience that one of them was actually a flat panel television. The painting would disappear, only to reappear on the screen when it was turned off. Modern conveniences with a classical appearance.

  Before Katelina could peek at the bathroom, Jorick tackled her to the bed. She gave a strangled cry as he nipped at her neck.

  When she got her head free she cried, “What in the hell are you doing?”

  His expression was false innocence. “You said to bite you.”

  She pulled away with a roll of her eyes. “No wonder you and Verchiel are getting along better. You’re turning into him.”

  She wasn’t fast enough to dodge the pillow.

  Chapter Four

  Katelina woke the next evening to the sound of running water and the smell of soap. The open bathroom door leaked a trail of light, and beyond it she could hear Jorick’s voice, soft and low, singing something she didn’t recognize.

  She climbed out of bed reluctantly, and sifted through the suitcase for something to wear. The beach clothes felt ridiculous now that they were back in the snow. With a sigh she selected a heavy navy pullover and a clean pair of jeans.

  The empty camera stared at her accusingly. She’d meant to take a photo of the brightly lit marina and the interior of the plane, but neither had seemed like a good idea. She took two snapshots of the room, carefully avoiding the coffins, and decided to call it a hotel in Munich. Her mother would never know.

  Jorick finished his shower to emerge naked and glistening with water drops. He offered her a suggestive smile, but her bladder said otherwise, so she dashed past him to the bathroom. His laughter followed, and she slammed the door on his comments about human “problems”.

  Though the claw footed tub suggested a long soak, she took a quick shower, dressed, and found Jorick waiting for her. “Shall we have some breakfast?”

  The restaurant was mostly white with only the black chairs, polished wooden floor, and a few strategically placed rattan wall panels to break it up. She wasn’t sure if it felt cold or sophisticated, and the other guests left her nervous enough to toy with the silverware as she skimmed the menu.

  She ordered fish in a mysterious sauce that came with mashed potatoes, Brussels sprouts, and salad with creamy dressing. The mystery sauce turned out to be mustard, but edible, while the Brussels sprouts were rejected after one bite.

  “What’s wrong with them?” Jorick asked as he sipped his glass of blood.

  “They’re Brussels sprouts. No one likes Brussels sprouts.”

  “Someone does, or they wouldn’t serve them.” He gave her a wink. “You don’t like them because they’re good for you.”

  “Healthy food usually tastes bad,” she agreed. He sat his glass down and she picked it up to sniff, a sarcastic comment at the ready, but the temperature surprised her and she let go. “It’s warm!”

  “You expected it to be cold?” His dark eyes twinkled.

  “Well, yes. Don’t you have to keep it refrigerated?”

  “You keep your food refrigerated, but you heat it up first. I’m sure there are lunatics out there who like it cold, just as there are people who like Brussels sprouts.”

  She shook her head and turned back to her meal. “You’re in an abnormally good mood. I understood when we were on vacation, but now…” she trailed off, unsure how to say “You’re not as crabby as usual.”

  He shrugged. “What do I have to be concerned about? The Höher Rat is going to collect a statement and send us back to the U.S. Malick no longer runs The Guild, so there’s nothing to worry about there. Maeko isn’t in danger now, so we don’t need to protect her. Oren should be able to slip between the cracks, and if he doesn’t I’ll appeal on his behalf because only the leaders of the covens were punished, and Fabian was already put to death as the leader. They’ll see things my way, if for no other reason than it's more work not to. Loren has thrown his lot in with Micah, and is no longer my responsibility. I have only you to look after now, and unless you can think of a reason for me to worry, I believe things are finally going to return to calm.”

  She felt like Oren on the beach. “What about the attack at the marina? You said yourself Cyprus was there.”

  “No, I said there was someone who looked like Cyprus. It obviously has nothing to do with us, since we’re not members of either of their ridiculous cults. No doubt the battle is really a split coven warring between themselves. Why else would they dress similar? I imagine the Höher Rat will find out all the details when they put them on trial.”

  Katelina thought of the trial experience she’d had at The Guild and shivered. She didn’t wish it on anyone. “That’s a big coincidence, but let’s say you’re right. What about Samael?”

  “Why on earth would he cause us problems? I imagine he’s busy bringing about his vampire apocalypse, or whatever it is.”

  She remembered what Sorino had read them from the Sanskrit scroll:

  “Thus will begin the new age. Mankind will be subjugated to the will of the vampires and by this will they shall live and die. It shall be as an… apocalypse… for all of mortal kind, when the Heart has been given to the broken body within the temple of the Raven Queen and the sleeping wreak their wrath. Then all will tremble at the might of the master and his consort in the time of the Great Destruction... Cities will be leveled and the works of men destroyed.”

  “And you’re not worried about cities being destroyed and mortal man being subjugated and what not?”

  Jorick toyed with his glass. “No, I’m not. I doubt it will come to that. The Kugsankal will handle it.”

  “Right, the way they’ve handled Malick.” She waved the conversation away. “Forget it. Maybe you’re right. It’s not your job. You’re not the world’s super hero.”

  On the way back to their room they ran into Oren. The golden haired vampire looked irritated, but he didn’t speak until they were on their floor.

  “I hope you’re having a better day than I am. I tried to get our rooms rearranged.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. Unless she’s accompanied by a vampire she has to move to the human only floor. I doubt you want that since she was entrusted to you.” He gave Jorick a pointed look. “I’m going to suggest she room with Torina.”

  Katelina choked on the idea. “Torina? She’ll make Etsuko’s life miserable. I’m surprised she hasn’t yet.”

  Jorick chortled. “I believe Etsuko is stronger than you give her credit for. I’m sure she can handle Torina.”

  “I doubt it,” Katelina said. “Torina has a way of being really nasty when she wants to be.”

  Jorick gave her a wink. “The alternative is that she sleeps with Oren. Is that better?”

  Oren looked offended. “You say that as if it’s something abhorrent. I assure you I’ve done nothing to the human! She slept in the bed and I in one of the coffins. I would hardly—”

  Jorick cut him off with a laugh. “No one thinks you’ve taken advantage of her.”

  They reached their door where a piece of parchment paper waited. Sealed with a lump of red wax, it looked better suited for a historical television drama.

  “What’s that?” Oren asked.

  Jorick pulled the message loose and snapped the seal. He skimmed the contents quickly. “The Höher Rat requests our presence at twenty-three hundr
ed to discuss the sudden termination of our previous visit and the results of our altercation with the malcontent Malick.”

  “That was fast.” A heavy weight of fear settled over Katelina. “What time is twenty-three?”

  “Eleven.” He glanced back to the paper. “Better sooner than later.”

  “Yes,” agreed Oren. “Then we can leave.”

  Jorick folded the letter and stuck it in his pocket. “The label ‘malcontent’ is interesting.”

  “I guess.” She had more important things on her mind, such as what the Höher Rat would be like. The Guild’s High Council was terrifying enough, and the one in Munich was probably older than they were.

  Jorick cleared his throat. “I doubt very much they’ll speak to you, since they’ll view you as a mere human.”

  “If I’m a mere human why do I have to go?”

  “Because we all have to go. They’ve also requested the red-headed idiot, Neil, and Cyprus. I assume Wolfe will explain the latter two’s absences. Speaking of Wolfe, we have to meet him in a ‘waiting room’, and he will escort us to the proceedings.”

  Oren scoffed. “In that case, your day will be as good as mine.”

  Katelina couldn’t argue.

  It was almost eleven when Katelina and Jorick headed to their appointment. Like much of the stronghold, the waiting room was paneled with wood. Wolfe checked the clock. His expression was smooth, but his eyes twitched impatiently.

  “We must wait for the other.” He motioned them to chairs, though neither she nor Jorick took a seat.

  A moment later Verchiel breezed in. Like Jorick, he wore all black and a silver medallion around his neck, the symbol of his Executioner status.

  “Hello, Kately! Nice to see you’ve been invited to this shindig!”

  Jorick made a low, annoyed noise in his throat and Verchiel winked at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you have Kately all to yourself for the time being. There are far too many pretty bits to keep me occupied while we’re here.”

  Jorick snarled and Wolfe quickly motioned them toward a door. “We should go.”

  Before anyone could object, he led them down a wide corridor to a set of huge polished doors. Inside was a foyer with a parquet floor. Two carved benches and a gilt framed painting decorated the room, while another carved door stood at the back, flanked by a set of guards.

  The door opened and Sadihra stepped out. She was dressed in black and wore her Scharfrichter medallion. Wolfe looked to his charges and then asked Sadihra quietly, “How did it go?”

  “I’m suspended for three months.”

  “Is that all?” Wolfe asked. She nodded and he looked relieved. For a moment Katelina thought he seemed almost human. “I’m sorry I wasn’t present for the sentencing.”

  “You had your orders,” Sadihra said. “However, I believe your earlier testimony helped.”

  Wolfe gave a crisp nod. “We’ll speak of it later.” He motioned to Jorick. “Come. You’re next.”

  The guards hurriedly saluted and opened the door again. Katelina hung back as the full terror of the High Council crashed over her, and Jorick squeezed her hand. As he met her eyes, a soothing calm spread through her. Though it disappeared quickly, she knew it was his way of saying everything would be all right.

  They walked inside. Like the foyer, the floor was polished parquet and the walls were half wood panel and half plaster. Flags of red, blue, green, and gold hung on the walls and complemented the high ceiling, which was done in a stained glass pattern of the same colors. Lights behind the glass gave the illusion of sunlight, even though they were deep underground.

  What looked like six carved jury boxes lined the walls, two on the back wall and two on each side. The farthest set was filled with vampires wearing deep green robes and holding folders. Between the two boxes was a smaller one that held three vampires in royal blue robes and one in gold.

  Directly in front of the robed vampires, in the center of the room, was yet another wooden structure, though this one reminded Katelina of an old fashioned courtroom dock. Behind it were several long, polished benches where a handful of onlookers were seated.

  Katelina tried not to look at the green robed vampires. Despite their bizarre appearance, she could feel their years hanging in the air around them. They were old; not as old as Malick, perhaps, but older than the High Council members in America. And with age came power, and with power came terror.

  Wolfe led them in front of the dock and bowed low. “Presenting Executioner Jorick, from the United Sates, Executioner Verchiel, from the United States and the human belonging to Jorick. As your excellencies have been made aware, Executioner Cyprus from the United States, formerly a guard of Munich, and guard Neil, from the United States, are unable or unwilling to attend these proceedings, Executioner Cyprus through traitorous rebellion and guard Neil through death in battle.”

  The vampire in the golden robe nodded. His face had the marble perfection of immortality, but signs of age still clung to it, as if he was already old when he’d been turned. He spoke, his voice deep and lyrically accented, “Danke, der Scharfrichter.”

  Wolfe stepped back and took a seat on a bench. One of the guards stepped forward and motioned to the dock style box. Verchiel and Jorick stepped inside it. When Katelina started to follow the guard caught her arm. Jorick shot him a dark look, and he quickly removed his hand.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “The human is not needed.”

  She looked to Jorick and he gave a barely perceptible shrug.

  The vampire in the gold robe cleared his throat noisily. “Human testimony is of no use. Their uncomprehending minds create false memories in an effort to cope with those things they don’t understand and so their memories are too weak to offer truth of any accord.”

  Katelina’s first impulse was to be insulted, but it was replaced by relief. She wouldn’t have to face them or their questions.

  She gave Jorick a cheerful nod, and let the guard direct her to the wooden bench where Wolfe was seated.

  “Perhaps now we can proceed?” The vampire in gold asked. Both Verchiel and Jorick stared straight ahead, their faces emotionless and unwavering, and the vampire smacked a carved gavel onto the railing before him. “The inquiry has begun.”

  Katelina bit back a sudden gasp. This didn’t seem like the nonchalant thing Jorick had talked about.

  One of the vampires in the box on the left said, “You will tell us why you cut your previous visit short and did not return to your guild as expected.”

  Jorick drew himself up. “We had something that required our immediate attention.”

  The questioner slammed his hand on the railing and shouted, “You mean you had to hurry away to reclaim an object you stole!”

  Before Jorick could answer, a vampire in the right box said, “There is no proof that he stole the item in question, and even if he did it has no bearing on these proceedings.”

  “But it does,” said the other. “It establishes that they had false intentions from the beginning.”

  The vampire in gold held up his hand. “Enough. It is immaterial. We will move on.”

  The vampires on the left had a whispered conference, and then the speaker asked, “Is it not true that you left in order to obtain a powerful object and awaken one who is known by the name of Samael?”

  The right box spoke again, “There is no proof that that was their intention only, that they wished to intercept the relic before Malick, the malcontent, who has openly declared war on the accepted rule of vampires. In this case, the accused could be said to have the interest of The Sodalitas at heart.”

  “Hardly!” cried the vampire on the left. “They wished to wake what was supposed to be an ancient master to use for their own gains!”

  Katelina whip lashed back and forth as they argued, and sent a questioning look to Wolfe. He tried to ignore her, but finally relented and hissed from the corner of his mouth, “They’re all mind readers, so it’s unnecessary for the accused to s
ay anything. The left argues against them and the right for, and whichever has the most compelling argument wins.”

  “If they’re mind readers why are they talking out loud at all?”

  “For the benefit of the accused who aren’t,” Wolfe said coldly. “Now be quiet.”

  She wanted to comment on the alarming word “accused”, but couldn’t find a way to do it.

  After an exhaustive argument between sides, they agreed that though Jorick had perhaps had ulterior motives, it was for the best, insofar as Malick the malcontent was concerned, that he beat him to the heart. However, there was much concern over Samael, and both councils dropped into silence and stared at the “accused” for the answer.

  Jorick cleared his throat and said, “I doubt Samael will be a problem. Should he prove to be so, the Kugsankal is more than capable of controlling him.”

  Both councils whispered fiercely, and then broke. The left hand vampire said, “Is it true that the human belonging to the Executioner Jorick was bitten by the one known as Samael?”

  Jorick’s back went stiff and Katelina tried to sink back into the bench, as if she could hide like a chameleon if she only wished hard enough.

  The right hand vampire quipped, “Being fed upon is not a crime.”

  “Perhaps. In which case we demand access to those memories.” The left hand vampire glared at the group.

  “As you should be able to see, your Excellency, neither of the accused were present at the time of occurrence, and one did not even know it had occurred.” The right hand vampire looked rather pleased. “If it satisfies you, we suggest the human’s memories are ruled suitable for the purpose of this trial.”

  There was so much in that sentence to alarm Katelina that she didn’t know where to start. Trial? What happened to an informal conversation? What happened to her not being good enough to talk to?

  The left hand vampires whispered together and then the gold robed vampire said, “It is agreed and decided that as the Kugsankal, in their superior and infinite wisdom, called upon the human child in the past to testify concerning Malick the malcontent, she is deemed suitable for the case in question.”

 

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