A Taste of Crimson

by Marjorie M. Liu

  “A well wish for a good howl-biddy.” Light rippled through Grindla’s eyes.

  “Right.” Keeli looked suspicious.

  Michael took her hand. With his other, he reached out toward Eric. “Are you ready?”

  “No,” he said.

  Michael smiled. “Good.”

  Grindla trailed her fingers across Eric’s chest, tracing a design. “You are always welcome here. Simply call my name.”

  “Thank you.” Eric hesitated, and then wrapped Grindla in a clumsy hug. Grindla smiled. When he released her, she turned to Michael.

  “You are still my friend,” he said, in response to the question in her eyes. He was rewarded with a sigh.

  “Be safe,” she said.

  And then light enveloped him, blinding, and he lost his body to a great empty expanse that made his mind brittle. He had no mouth to scream, no arms to flail, but he felt his soul fall—fall too fast—and then the light disappeared and he was on his back in a warm golden room with a fire on his left, a young man on his right, and a pink-haired waif on his chest.

  “Hello,” Keeli said.

  “Hello,” Michael replied. He kissed her nose.

  “We have company,” she told him.

  “I know.” He looked sideways and up, up into the stunned faces of werewolves and vampires. The Grand Dame’s sitting room was crowded, bodies packed in between luxurious furnishings and glowing candles. The air smelled like incense. Classical music played softly. Michael wondered what time it was. Moonrise would mark the end of this gathering.

  Hargittai stood nearby, with Jas and several other wolves beside them. They were clean, dressed in formal attire. Celestine sat on a plush velvet footstool on the opposite side of the room. She looked tense, her flawless brow slightly furrowed.

  The Grand Dame was not in the room.

  “Where’s my grandmother?” Keeli asked, as Hargittai helped her stand.

  “She received an urgent call that she did not want to take in front of the envoys. She should be back soon.”

  “What is going on?” Frederick pushed himself out of a deep leather chair. He stopped when he saw Michael. Celestine floated to her feet. She stared at Eric.

  “We need to talk in private,” Keeli said to Hargittai, ignoring the envoy leader. She glanced at Celestine and said, “You need to be there, too.”

  Frederick looked at Celestine. “What do you know about this?”

  “Nothing,” she said, but there was a look in her eye that Michael had never seen before: a crack in the steel; pale vulnerability. Hargittai swayed toward her.

  Frederick’s mouth tightened with displeasure. Michael leaned close, and in a deadly quiet voice, said, “Do not speak what you are thinking. Do not even dare breathe it. There is more going on here than you can imagine, and if you have any desire to save this negotiation, then you will do exactly what I say. Is that clear?”

  A hush fell upon all the vampires in the room: shocked, fearful. Frederick’s eyes narrowed. “You dare speak to me that way?”

  “I could dare much more than that,” Michael told him. “Maybe I will start with you.”

  Fury twisted Frederick’s face, but Michael felt movement against his back, and he turned just enough to see the werewolves sidle close. It was pitiful how outnumbered the vampires looked within the small confines of the Grand Dame’s sitting room. Every gathered werewolf was tall and strong, with the bearing of an Alpha. A smile haunted the corner of Hargittai’s mouth. Jas looked very grave.

  “So it was not just a petty rumor,” Frederick said, looking past Michael at Keeli. “You are with the wolves, now.”

  “I am with the woman I love,” Michael said. “And if that means the wolves, so be it.”

  Celestine made a small sound. At first Michael thought it was in response to what he had said, but when he looked, he found her staring at Eric. Eric returned her gaze, steady and strong. A good act—Michael caught a glimmer of insecurity, desperate hunger. To come face to face with the mother and father he had only dreamed of—to look them in the eyes and not flinch, not weep or beg …

  Celestine made another noise; it sounded like a whimper. Hargittai reached for her elbow and she flinched.

  “Don’t.” Eric’s composure slipped. He choked on his voice. “Don’t touch her.”

  Hargittai frowned. Celestine drew away from him, swaying toward Eric. Looking at her face was like seeing a picture of perfect tragedy: grief and loss, her eyes full with agony. Michael had never seen anything so terrible in his entire life, and that it was Celestine suffering—Celestine with her sharp mouth, her callous heart—merely made the moment more heartbreakingly bizarre. She was completely oblivious to everyone in the room.

  “It can’t be,” she breathed, still staring at Eric. “No.”

  “Celestine?” Hargittai whispered. She shook her head, reaching out to touch Eric’s face. The young man’s breath caught; he stood, frozen, as Celestine peered into his eyes. Everyone was frozen, caught up in the tragic peculiarity of the moment.

  A moan burst from Celestine’s mouth. Her face crumpled; her entire body sagged in on itself. Eric caught her against his chest and gently lowered them both to the ground, cradling her in his lap. Hargittai fell to his knees beside them.

  “Your eyes,” Celestine sobbed, curling in on herself. “Oh, God. No one else could have eyes like yours.”

  “What did you do to her?” Hargittai seized Eric’s shoulder. He pulled back his other arm, hand closing into a fist. Michael grabbed him around the chest. Keeli scrambled to impose her body between the Alpha and Eric.

  “No!” she cried. “No, you can’t. This is your son, Hargittai. Your son.”

  Her voice shocked the room into one giant wheeze; gasps, the struggle for breath. Bewilderment surged from one body to the next; dancing confusion. Hargittai stopped struggling.

  “But that’s impossible. That’s—” He looked at Celestine. She lay there, staring at him, tears racing down her flawless cheeks. Hargittai choked, falling backward against Michael. Trembling, he breathed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I couldn’t,” Celestine whispered. “They said they would kill you. That if I ever spoke to you again, they would kill us both.”

  “Who?” Hargittai’s voice cracked on that word.

  The door to the Grand Dame’s rooms opened. The old woman appeared, her silver hair loose and wild, her silk robes reflecting firelight. She looked at Michael and Keeli, and then her gaze fell upon Eric.

  No, Michael thought, watching her eyes. Oh, no.

  Eric stared. He whispered, “You.”

  The Grand Dame smiled.

  Her grandmother’s smile had to be one of the most sinister things Keeli had ever seen in her life, and she stood there, struck dumb as she tried to reconcile that face—that reaction—to Eric’s simple “you.”

  You. As in, I know you. As in, I am shocked to see you here. As in—

  “Why the hell does Eric know you?” Keeli asked her grandmother.

  No one breathed as the Grand Dame glided into the room. Even the vampires seemed rooted, frozen in their shock. Everyone watched the old woman as she moved close, and only Michael stirred, placing himself in front of Keeli.

  “This is unfortunate timing,” said the Grand Dame, looking down at Eric. “Inevitable, but unfortunate. You should have stayed in your room.”

  “We kidnapped him,” Keeli said, and then, “Holy shit. Oh, my God. What have you done?”

  “What I had to do,” she said, flashing a hard look. Cold—Keeli felt so cold staring into her grandmother’s face, which could have belonged to a stranger. Eric looked afraid, and—she talked to me through glass, read me stories—Keeli recalled a stun rod burning a trail through his skin—until last year she said I was outliving my usefulness—in his balls, because he had to be punished—so she gave me away to the men—punished—and they turned me into something useful—for not killing Michael, and—oh.

  Oh.

&nbs
p; Frederick made a sound of protest; he looked ugly with distress. “You told Marakova the child was dead. You promised—”

  Celestine cried out, lurching clumsily from Eric’s lap. Hargittai and son grabbed her waist, holding her back from the envoy leader. “You knew? All this time—”

  “I was Dumont’s advisor,” Frederick snapped. “Of course I knew. All four leaders of the Great Houses knew about your disgrace. And all of them—all of them—agreed that the best recourse would be to rid you of the child. And so we did.” He stared at the Grand Dame. “Or at least, that is what we were promised.”

  “Yes,” said the Grand Dame. “The poor vampires did not have the stomach to do it themselves, all those years ago. But me, the Grand Dame, a Maddox—I was already a dog to them. An animal. And animals have no conscience, do we?”

  Hargittai snarled, and Keeli jumped between him and the Grand Dame. “All of you out,” she ordered. “Jas, take the envoys into the hall. The rest of you, please—I know you are Alphas and above this, but please guard the vampires. Make sure they do not leave.”

  “This negotiation is finished,” Frederick hissed.

  “No,” Keeli snapped, getting right up in his face. “It has just fucking started. So unless you want to go home and tell your new leader that you lost this alliance because we found out some of you vampires have been paying people to kill your children, you had better keep your mouth shut, go out in that hall, and sit tight until I come get you. Got that?”

  “You are not the Grand Dame Alpha,” Frederick said, staring down his nose at Keeli. “You are a small little wolf with no authority. Why should I listen to you?”

  “Because if you do not,” Michael said quietly, “I will hurt you.”

  “No,” Keeli said. “I’ll hurt you. Now get the hell out of here.”

  “Stay where you are,” said the Grand Dame. “That is not your order to give, Keeli.”

  “Isn’t it?” Keeli asked, making her decision. She looked at Hargittai and Jas, at all the Alphas watching her. “Then I challenge you, Grand Dame Alpha Maddox. I challenge you.”

  It was like all the air got sucked out of the room; everyone held their breath, staring at the Grand Dame and Keeli. She willed herself not to falter, to stay strong under the power of her grandmother’s shocked gaze, but it was difficult—the most difficult thing she had ever done—not to crumble and say I’m sorry and Please, love me again, please. But she kept her face strong, her mouth set, and she swallowed down the words, stamped out the pain and longing, because her grandmother had gone too far. Too far, and it was not right.

  “Keeli,” her grandmother breathed, and then gazed around the room, studying the faces of her wolves. Keeli did not know what was in their eyes, only that a great chill seemed to fall upon her grandmother’s narrow shoulders and that the woman’s mouth twisted down into a frown. The Grand Dame turned back to Keeli and said, “I accept. I accept your challenge, Keeli Maddox.”

  What have you done? Oh, no. What have you done?

  “Leave us,” said the Grand Dame to everyone, still looking at Keeli. “Now.”

  This time, Frederick did not protest. He led the vampires out of the room into the corridor. The wolves followed, Jas in the lead. He glanced at Keeli, and in his eyes was resignation. He looked too tired to feel angry.

  Hargittai and Celestine made no move to leave. Neither did Michael or Eric. When the door closed behind the last Alpha, everyone stared at the Grand Dame.

  And then Hargittai reached out and pulled Celestine into a quick hard kiss that was desperate, reckless—and returned with equal passion.

  “Celestine,” he murmured, and looked at Eric. He leaned forward to grab the young man’s face. The two men stared into each other’s eyes, nostrils flaring.

  “My son,” Hargittai whispered. “I didn’t know.”

  “I believe you,” Eric breathed. His hands flexed around Celestine’s shoulders and waist. She raised a shaky hand and brushed his cheek.

  “You were the reason I had to leave your father,” she said. “And I hated you for that. Hated, and loved. The love was stronger.”

  “Then why did you give me up?” Eric’s voice shook. “I spent my entire life in a lab, being treated as an experiment. Being taught that I was a monster. Told that the only way I could exist is because my mother was … was raped.”

  “No,” Hargittai said, shooting the Grand Dame a hate-filled glance. “No. We loved each other. I still love her.”

  Celestine’s eyes flashed. “Do not say that. It is too dangerous.” She struggled against Eric, and he helped her sit up. “You have to go,” she told her son. “You have to run and hide. They stole you from my womb before you were ready. They said you were dead. They will try to kill you if they know you are still alive.”

  The Grand Dame shook her head. “Your son is not so easy to kill, Celestine. Why do you think the vampires wanted him dead? Why there is opposition to an alliance between our two peoples?”

  Celestine hissed.

  The Grand Dame raised her hands. “I did what I had to,” she said. “The vampires came to me when they learned of your relationship with Hargittai. They told me you were pregnant. The elders said they were giving me the courtesy of knowing they would be ‘handling the problem.’ I told them to let me manage it. I said it was my right, because the baby was also a werewolf. They agreed. They were more than happy to give me the child to kill. I made them pay for it, too. Pay well. And then I used the money to raise your son.”

  “He was being tortured when we found him,” Michael said, his eyes dark with menace. “Those are silver burns on his body. He has permanent scars. His arms look like they belong to a junkie. Is that how you raise a child?”

  The look she shot him was pure venom. “He would not have been punished if he had done his job.”

  “To kill me?” Michael asked quietly. He looked at Hargittai and Celestine. “Your son has been raised to be an assassin. Your son has been taught to kill vampires.”

  Hargittai stood. Eric grabbed his hand. “No,” he said. “She was good to me. Don’t hurt her.”

  “Good to you? How can you say that?”

  “Because anyone else would have killed me.” He looked at the Grand Dame. “I was nothing more than an investment to her, but that was something, at least. And maybe … maybe sometimes she liked me.”

  “I did,” said the Grand Dame softly. “I liked you very much, Eric.”

  “Then why did you let them hurt him?” Keeli asked, drawing near.

  Pain moved through the Grand Dame’s face. “Because Eric is right when he calls himself an investment. Up until a year ago he was not using his full potential. I spoiled him—all that time, letting him breathe easy, have his childhood—and when I did need him, when all I required was an expression of his true nature, he balked. Refused. And so I had him punished. I fixed his inhibitions. It is quite amazing what money can buy, and what the government was willing to pay in order to see him mature into a … useful member of society.”

  “You bitch,” Celestine said. “I am going to kill you.”

  “Really.” The Grand Dame’s eyes cooled. “You, who did not fight for the love of your wolf. You, who did not fight for your child.”

  Celestine jerked. “The Council would have killed Hargittai.”

  “Maybe,” said the Grand Dame. “Probably. But you did not even try to defy them. You took the easy path, and simpered the years away as a lackey to the man who oversaw the removal of your child from the womb.”

  Keeli stared at her grandmother, incredulous. “You’re telling her she should have fought harder? When I fought back, you tried to kill Michael!”

  “My blood,” Michael said. “I got it on your body. You took a sample and gave it to Eric for my scent. For my taste.”

  The Grand Dame nodded. “I was too late to stop what happened to Hargittai and Celestine, but I refuse to see the same hardship for my granddaughter. If you and she continue, a child is inevitab
le. And if that happens, if she is forced …” Her voice broke. She took a deep breath. “To lose your child is a pain I could not bear to see her endure.”

  “You made me endure it,” Celestine said.

  “You were not strong enough to endure the truth. To make the sacrifices necessary to keep him. That you did not fight for your wolf told me that much. Keeli, however, is strong enough. And that frightens me.”

  Keeli wanted to scream. “Why did you do it? Why have you done any of this?”

  “Money,” Michael said, thoughtful. Eric nodded slowly.

  “Money is power,” said the Grand Dame, quiet. “And money is the one thing we werewolves lack. The one thing we need. And you, Keeli, know that I will do anything to keep our people safe. Anything.”

  Keeli did know this. She just had never imagined that her grandmother would go so far.

  “I made deals with the government. A man named Kippenham. He and his scientists were fascinated with the idea of a hybrid. Many things they learned from Eric went into developing the mech program—the perfect alignment of disparate parts into one body. And then, a year ago, Kippenham contacted me about other benefits. Favors. If I could provide him with another weapon against the vampires, he promised to keep the werewolves out of any upcoming conflict. He promised not to hurt us.”

  “You trusted him?” Keeli asked, appalled.

  “Of course not. I was buying us time, Keeli. Time to expand the tunnels, to build a better infrastructure that would keep us safe if the city above went to pieces. I was trying to make us self-sufficient. Agreeing to negotiate with the vampires was part of that. The money we could get from an alliance with them would make us secure.”

  “But at the same time you were taking contracts on the lives of vampires,” Michael said.

  “And being paid for it. All the money went into the clan trust account.”

  Keeli blinked. “The morning after Crestin’s death, I saw a note on your desk. Fifty thousand dollars was deposited into the clan account.”

  “I have five more contracts waiting,” Eric said, standing.