I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. I get cranky when I’m tired.”
“Don’t they all.” I shot Marx a look and he held up his hands again, his form of apology. “You going to answer the question?”
I’d honestly forgotten what the question was and had to think a moment. “How long have I been awake? Just a few hours. I had a Grand Mal seizure last night.” I immediately regretted saying it.
“What?” They both jumped from their seats.
“I’m epileptic,” I tried to explain, and had they let me continue I could have calmed their fears, but that just panicked them more.
“You need to be in the hospital!” Marx shouted.
Will was in a worse form of panic. He just kept saying, “Oh my god, oh my god,” over and over.
“Would you calm down,” I said, starting to get hot around my neck and face and not from embarrassment. “I don’t like people treating me differently just because I have a medical issue. I’m as normal as anyone else. I’m fine. Roman healed me. I’m not even that sore.” Marx and Will took their seats again, though slow and reluctant.
“Maybe you should try to get a nap,” Marx said, eyeing me like I might start seizing again right there in front of him.
“Yeah, that would be nice.” It was hard to believe that I could still be tired, but I was. The flight and almost dying, then the trek down here must have worn me out.
Marx stood and let me have the sofa to myself. “We’ll wake you when they call for us,” he said.
I stretched and even with my legs perfectly straight there was still enough room for two or three people to sit at the other end. I yawned, closed my eyes, and drifted.
I woke to Tate’s voice and someone shaking me. My eyes felt dry and sandpapery when I opened them, and I blinked several times before Tate’s evanescent face came into view, a worried frown marring her forehead.
“How long was I asleep?” I asked. I had a crick in my neck and my back hurt. There was a wet spot on the sofa where I’d drooled, but it was toward the back of the sofa, so I was fairly certain Will and Marx hadn’t seen.
“About thirty minutes,” Marx answered.
Tate was still eyeing me with concern. “What is it?”
“Marx and Will told me about your...condition.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a condition. The ‘Vampire Scorned’ was in my head and she tried to kill me. Roman healed me. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Tate asked.
I thought about saying, “I have tourrettes too, what about it?” but I didn’t.
I stood, albeit wobbly, and said, “It’s fine. I just want this over with.” I wasn’t going to give them the chance to feel sorry for me.
“Where do we go from here?” I asked.
“This way.” Tate led us through the door and into a long hall. These walls were carved, like in the waiting room, to depict scenes of graphic violence, of sweet romance, and heroic shows of valor all interwoven into each other with signs and symbols that I didn’t know.
There were doors on either side of the hall, all closed. Occasionally, we passed a branching hallway, or turned down one, but we didn’t stop. No one else spoke, so I didn't either. They seemed a little frightened, and perhaps I would have been if I knew what I was getting myself into.
Finally, we came to the end of a hall. Fear and dread radiated off Will and Marx, but Tate portrayed indifference, like she’d been through this so many times it just didn’t scare her any more. Whatever this was.
I almost ran into Tate when she stopped abruptly and turned to face me. “There are a few things you need to know before we go in here.”
I opened my eyes wide as if to say, “You couldn’t have told me this earlier?”
“Speak only when spoken to,” Tate said. “Answer all questions directly. Don’t beat around the bush. If you don’t know or understand, say so. And, most importantly, keep all backtalk, sass, and jokes to yourself. It’s a sure way to get dismissed without a hearing.”
“You make it sound like I’m going to court,” I said.
Tate gave me a warning look - apparently that was considered backtalk - but said, “Pretend that you are. You’ll be better off. Ready?” But, I don’t think that last question was for me. Marx and Will nodded and Tate pushed the heavy wooden door open enough for the four of us to step through.
The room was so cavernous that the sound of rushing water drowned out everything else. I looked up, and kept looking up, into an expanse that eventually ended, not in a ceiling but a continuing darkness that told me the room was too big for words. The floor was solid stone, no longer the red from before but a natural gray-ish tan. It was stained in places with dark spots that looked eerily like dried blood. Along the wall was a long table that looked like a judge’s bench, and behind it sat eight figures of varying size, shape, gender, and style preference, though for the most part they all looked like they’d crawled out of a science fiction film.
“This is the girl?” A woman spoke, and I followed the sound of her voice to an older woman, the oldest of the bunch, sitting slightly higher and farther forward than the rest. Her hair was long and dark and fell past the table and out of sight, even though most of it seemed to be wrapped around her head in an elaborate braid. Her skin was pale and her eyes were a fierce, piercing blue that looked like it hadn’t seen a smile in hundreds of years. And that’s the vibe I got from her. She was hundreds of smileless years old.
“Yes,” Tate said from my left. “This is LeKrista Scott,” and she pronounced my name perfectly, even adding a little bit of a French accent on the K. Roman had taught her well.
“Hello, Ms. Scott,” the older woman said. “I am Lady Xiomara, head of the Mage Council for the last century. I assume they’ve told you nothing.”
Xiomara gave Tate and the guys a severe look that said, “She’d better answer this correctly or else.”
“No, ma’am,” I answered. “Nothing.”
“Good.” The council head took her seat and relaxed into the back of her chair like she was tired. “We Mages must keep our existence a secret from the vampires or there will be war. Why have you come to us?” Xiomara asked.
I looked at Tate, certain she would have told them already. She widened her eyes and shook her head. I wasn’t supposed to talk back. “I have a rather severe vampire problem,” I stated. “They keep getting into my head. I killed one who was trying to kill me, and his lover made an attempt on my life the other night.”
“Two vampires then?” Xiomara asked, as if unimpressed.
I shook my head. “No, ma’am. Three.”
“Who?”
“He calls himself Roman.”
“The Centurion?” she asked, and finally seemed impressed.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Pray tell, how did you meet him?”
“Uh, well, he saved my beer.”
The man sitting to Xiomara’s left chuckled. He was blonde, muscled, and sexy and dressed in furs. Even from this distance I could see his ice-blue eyes spark with humor.
Xiomara didn’t find it funny. “I beg your pardon?”
“I bought a twelve pack,” I explained, “and the bottom fell out of the box. Roman caught it before it hit the pavement. He saved my beer.”
“And what did he tell you about why he did this?”
I shrugged. “Just that he had a small gift of foresight and he didn’t want to see me cry.”
“What else do you know of this Roman?” She sat back in her seat, one arm rested on the table in front of her, the other leaning on the arm rest, and she regarded me out of one eye, like she was daring me to do something impressive. She honestly had no idea.
“Roman had a lover named Vivian a long time ago, but she was unfaithful with one of his vampire creations, one named Lucretious.” I watched her face and caught the slightest movement of her eyebrow. “Lucretious had been watching me for several months, but I didn’t know why until recently. Apparently, I hold a pow
er identical to Vivian’s...” I wasn’t sure that I should tell them about the Vampire Apocalypse that was forth coming. I might need some leverage later. “Both Lucretious and Roman want me for that power,” I finished. “And now, Lucretious’ lover Perdita wants me dead.”
“Lucretious is the one that you killed?” Xiomara asked.
“Yes.” I studied Xiomara’s face. She was worried now and I didn’t like that, because it meant that I should be worried.
“This is cause for great concern,” Xiomara said. “However,” and I didn’t like that ‘however’, “our help does not come without a price. What do you have that you can offer us?” she asked.
I frowned. “If what Roman says about me is true, I have quite a bit of power to offer you. If you can protect me from the vampires and teach me how to use whatever this is that I have then you have an asset. An ally.”
“Yet, it is this connection with the vampires that has me worried. Mages and vampires have been at war for a long time. A war that they won. We aren’t even supposed to exist anymore. If this vampire has the ability to get inside your head, simply coming here tonight has brought our demise. I am afraid there is nothing we can offer you.”
My jaw dropped.
Is she kidding? She can’t be serious!
I didn’t know what to say. Tate stepped forward. “Lady Xiomara, please. You cannot allow the vampires to kill an innocent victim.”
“Innocent? It seems to me that she was a completely willing victim. Is this not true?” She turned the question to me and I had no choice but to answer truthfully.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“See?”
“Yes, but, she was tricked!” Tate seemed enraged at this injustice and I couldn’t blame her. “You have no idea what she’s risked being here.”
“She has no idea what we risked allowing her to come to us!” Xiomara was angry now.
“They almost killed her!” Tate's paper white skin was now flushed blood red with anger. “She...” She looked back at me as if to apologize and said, “She is in fragile health. She suffers from epilepsy. Among other things.”
I tried not to be angry. I knew Tate was only trying to get me the help I so desperately needed, but I wasn’t in fragile health, and I didn’t want anyone to think I was.
“Is that so?” Xiomara said, and I think her anger got the best of her. “Then, perhaps she deserves to be picked off by the vampires. Only the strong survive in this.”
I think Tate was as angry at that comment as I was. I would have said something smart, but she beat me to it. What she said was better than anything I could have come up with.
“You hypocritical, bitch-ass, warmongers,” she shouted. “How dare you?!” Marx and Will leapt forward, grabbing at her arms, trying to call her off, but she would have none of it. She shook them off and said, “I hope the vampires get you. All of you! I hope you all die very slow and painful deaths you nasty, evil, decrepit-"
Her shouts were cut off by the sound of cracking thunder. I saw nothing, but Tate’s blood red face, and then I didn’t see that anymore. She dropped to the ground unconscious and smacked her head on the stone. Marx and Will would have grabbed her, but Xiomara’s voice came loud and strong as a thunderstorm. “Do not touch her.” She enunciated every word, making her point. “She is not deserving of your help.” Then she turned to me. “I hope you have learned something here today. Those who oppose us must be punished. I have given the decree. You will get no help from us.”
I shook my head and did exactly what I was told not to do. “I know I learned I don’t like you very much. I know I learned that you are not fair and you are not gracious or merciful, and therefore, you are not a good leader. You’ve no need to worry anything from me. I won’t be asking for your help again. I don’t need it from the likes of you.” I knelt down and picked Tate up, carrying her in both my arms. I could feel her heart beat and knew she wasn’t dead, but she was so limp. At least she didn’t weigh too much.
Marx and Will leapt to help me. “No,” I said. “You had your chance. You don’t leave your friends to die at another’s hand if you’re able to help them. I don’t care what you’re told to do.” And I carried her from the room.
I didn’t stop until we were in the hall with the door closed. Then, I lowered myself and Tate to the floor.
“What did she do to her?” I asked.
“You’ve seen Lord of the Rings?” Marx asked.
“Of course.”
“You remember the part where Gandalf and Saruman fight in the tower?” Will said.
“Uh huh.”
“It’s kind of like that. She hit her with her power and knocked her out.”
“So, she’s not going to die?” They shook their heads. I still didn’t like that they deserted their friend. “Let’s get her where we can lay her down,” I said.
Marx wouldn’t let me carry her. He took her from my arms and led the way back to the waiting room where he laid her on one of those ultra-plush, super-soft sofas, and we waited.
“Give me your shirt,” I ordered Marx. I could tell he wanted to argue with me, but not after what I’d said earlier.
Marx whipped the shirt over his head before asking, “What are you going to do with it?”
“I’m going to get it wet in that fountain over there and see if I can’t bring her around with some cool water.”
Marx nodded and whipped his tank top off. I saw his naked torso out of the corner of my eye and was impressed. A rippling six-pack decorated the landscape of his stomach and his biceps reminded me of the cartoons where they flex and muscles keep popping up, one just a little bit smaller than the last until they come to an almost point. He handed me the tank top and I thought a little less of him for caring too much about his t-shirt.
“It cost me almost seventy-five bucks,” he informed me, as if sensing my disdain, and shrugged.
Okay. So I probably would have done the same, dammit.
I dipped the tank in the fountain on the other side of the room and was astounded at how incredibly cold the water was.
“Damn,” I whispered as my fingers became instant icicles.
“It’s fresh,” Will informed me. “Some of the best water you’ll ever drink, but it’s so cold you have to draw it out and let it sit before you can drink it.”
“Damn,” I said again. I wrung out the shirt carefully so I wouldn’t freeze my fingers, then went and knelt beside Tate. I dabbed at her forehead with the wet cloth.
Tate sat straight up and pulled away from me, cowered against the back of the sofa, and shivered. I sat back on my heels. “What’s wrong?” I asked no one in particular.
“Nothing,” Marx answered. “She’s just disoriented. She may not remember you right off. Give her a minute.” To Tate, he said, “Tate, Doll, you alright?”
Tate nodded. “That was so cold.”
“I know. We had to wake you up. The Wicked Witch of the Underground knocked you out because you were being a bitch again.”
Tate rolled her eyes and uncurled from her hunched up position. “Please. She’s the bitch. She-" Tate looked at me with those freaky pink eyes. “I remember you now. LeKrista.”
I nodded.
“You alright to go back upstairs?” Will asked.
Tate nodded and stood carefully. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. My head is killing me!”
“You smacked your head on the floor,” I told her.
“Yeah, I’m sure I did and I just bet that bitch loved it. Nasty, bitter old hag.”
“You used some colorful language to describe her,” I said with a smirk.
“You should have heard what LeKrista said to her,” Will grinned.
Tate’s eyes went big and round. “Oh my god! What did you say?”
By the time we got up stairs, Tate still wasn’t over what I’d said to Xiomara and she was having a field day with what I’d said to Marx and Will.
“That’s what you get,” she said as we stepped through the door in
to the club, “for not being chivalrous and gentlemanly. I hope you’ve both learned your lessons.”
Marx and Will protested, saying they would have if...
“Me thinks they protesteth too much,” I quoted.
“Me thinks the same damn thing,” Tate said. “I know you both love me,” she told them, hands on her hips, her burgundy hair shaking about her shoulders as she shook her head at them. “You don’t have to deny it.”
Marx and Will shut up, but not without a gentle punch in the arm, at the same time. Tate grabbed both arms and dropped to the floor like she’d been shot. Or like she’d been zapped by the evil Mage Head again. “Ow, you broke my arms!” She writhed as if in serious pain.
Marx scooped her up and shouted, rather valorously, “I shan’t not leave mine friends behind if’n I may be able to helpeth them!” Will picked up her hair like it was the train of a wedding dress and they carried her across the room. I laughed and glanced around, but there was no vampire to be found.
“Your friend stepped outside for a moment,” one of the employees said to me. He was cute, blonde with blue eyes, and dressed in a black t-shirt and slacks. The t-shirt said Vamp-Lightenment Security in bloody red letters across the front. Cute.
“Thanks,” I said. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “He had a bite to eat,” he seemed to think this incredibly clever, “then got all worried and stepped outside to use a blue and green cell phone.”
“That’s my cell phone,” I said, as if the guy would care. I sprinted back up into the main part of the shop. Roman was just outside the window on my cell talking fast and furious, hand motioning as he spoke. I pushed the front doors open and stepped out to join him. He moved aside vampire-quick, knowing I was trying to hit him with the door.
Damn those vampire powers.
“That’s my phone. Get off.” Roman held up a finger, and that really pissed me off. I held out my hand for the phone. “I want the phone in my hand now.”
“It’s the human girl. She demands her phone. I must play nice for now.”
“Excuse me?” I demanded. Roman turned his eyes down to look at me, but there wasn’t the look of annoyance I expected, or anger. There was only shock and complete and utter surprise.
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