“Quit it. Please, just stop it, already,” Raina begged, stepping closer. “What I did was wrong. There’s no excuse for what I did.”
“Oh, but you were so drunk!” Brenna countered mockingly, waving her hands in the air dramatically.
“That was a stupid thing for me to say, I know,” she admitted, “and there’s a thousand other excuses I could use to try to justify it. But I’m not going to do that. What I did was wrong, I know that I hurt you, and I’m sorry. I really did want to be with you first … and I still want to be with you. I mean … if you still want to be with me…”
Brenna considered that for a moment, and then shrugged. “Well … it’s not like I’ve got a choice anymore. I’m your servant for life. I’ve already signed my life away.” She paused for a moment, and then stepped past her to walk towards the bathroom door. “I just wish that I’d been smart enough to read the fine print before I decided to commit to this shit.”
In a blink, she was already out the door in her haste to get away from Raina.
“Brenna…” she said just as the door slammed shut.
Already, Raina was becoming aware of the fact that, in this new life of vampire politics and drama, a crazy German female High Court with a sword and a homicidal grudge against the House of Fallamhain was perhaps the least of her worries.
* * * *
Chapter Twenty-Three
As instructed, within the hour, everyone had somehow scrambled into motion and made a hurried dash to the bathroom to clean up, dress up, and make themselves presentable. Considering the number of people that this involved, and the limited availability of facilities between the two hotel suites, this was actually quite a feat. Given that the majority of the House of Fallamhain had indulged in a celebratory orgy of sorts beforehand, it came as little surprise to Raina that there was quite a bit of sharing of showers and the like going on.
William more or less retrieved Raina from the second suite and escorted her back to the first, where Duvessa sat her down in the den and began to explain to her the details of what lie ahead. Most of it was logical and expected. Some of it was unpleasant, but necessary. Either way, she remained silent and attentive for the most part, feeling a bit like a pupil before a private teacher of sorts. Duvessa had brought others through the Change before in both antiquated and modern times. She knew exactly how this would go. She knew exactly what to do, and what not to do. Raina was still so flustered and lost by everything that had happened as of late, she would simply have to trust the Grand Duchess. More importantly, though, she would have to try to keep the situation with Brenna out of her mind, at least for the time being.
Being a newly reborn vampire, she was required by Federal, state, and local laws to register herself with the authorities as a vampire and obtain the necessary documentation and identification items she would require to travel. One of those things necessary would be a Vampire Identification Card, or VIC. Since it was Duvessa’s personal belief that one should always be looking their best for any photograph, she wished to see her look a bit more polished than she presently did.
Ladies Noriko and Svetlana both were directed to assist with Raina’s appearance, touching up her makeup, hair, and attire, in addition to their already constant duties of responding to the Grand Duchess’s every minor request. She was dressed in exactly the same clothes as the night before, but upon Duvessa’s request, her makeup and hair were done quite differently, leaving her hair mostly down and giving her makeup a lighter, more natural and less severe style than she usually wore.
“You did bring some form of your prior identification with you, did you not?” Duvessa asked at one point while Svetlana delicately dusted a soft-bristled brush upon Raina’s face.
“Just my driver’s license and debit card in my purse,” she admitted. “William had it, last I remember.”
“And your Social Security card?”
“At home, in a fireproof lockbox with some stuff. I’m kind of paranoid about identity theft.”
Duvessa smiled approvingly. “Very smart of you, dear. We will need that, however, as well as a copy of your birth certificate, if you have it.”
“In the same lockbox.”
“Good. And your documentation from the hospital when you were discharged?”
“At Brenna’s place.”
“Excellent. And do you have a passport?”
“I do,” she said, “but I don’t know if it’s expired or not. My parents insisted that I get one, in case I wanted to visit another country sometime, like Mexico. They didn’t want the Border Patrol to give me a hard time. Everyone used to accuse my dad of being Mexican, but he was actually from Spain, so he was constantly dealing with that. And since I’m half Hispanic, then … well, everyone assumes the same thing about me, so…”
“I see. Well, you will require a new passport anyhow, but having your old one with you will make things a bit easier,” Duvessa said with a nod. “The authorities will need to issue a formal notice of your change in status from human to vampire, and they will want all of those documents on hand so that they may issue your VIC, your driver’s license, and your other legal identification. Then once they have finalized your death certificate and you have your other forms of ID in hand…”
“Death certificate?” Raina echoed with wide eyes.
Duvessa frowned at her. “Do not interrupt me.”
“Sorry … but did you say death certificate?” Raina persisted with caution.
“I believe that I spoke that part quite clearly, yes,” she confirmed quite haughtily.
“But … I’m not dead. I mean … obviously!”
“It’s a formality. They have to close your status as a human by declaring you dead before they can issue any documentation to you as a vampire,” she explained quite flatly. “Apparently, the modern-day American human government takes the concept of your rebirth as a vampire just as literally as we of the High Court have done for centuries in Europe. If I may continue…?”
Raina hummed with a careful nod, trying not to get poked in the eye as Noriko carefully applied a bit of mascara to her lashes. The blue-blooded nature of Duvessa’s royalty was becoming more and more obvious. While it was not exactly irritating, at least not yet, Raina was not entirely fond of this aspect of Duvessa’s personality.
“Once you have been issued your necessary credentials, we will sit down as a group with my legal staff, whom I have already instructed to draft an updated will that will name you as the sole beneficiary of my full estate, as well as the obvious transfer of power that would be necessary to name you as my successor as Grand Duchess of the Council.” She hesitated. “I realize that this is a lot for you to take in at once, dear, but considering the circumstances we face, I believe it is wise to make the best use of the time we have available to us.”
“Why the rush?” Raina asked. “I mean, aren’t we pretty much immortal? We’ve got all the time in the world.”
Duvessa took Raina’s right hand gently into both of hers as they sat beside one another upon the edge of the bed. Her hands were warm, velvety soft, and perfectly dry, very calm and steady. Those hands held so much grace, so much beauty, as did all of Duvessa. But yet, while she knew that those hands could bestow very, very pleasurable sensations upon others, she was also quite aware of how much death and suffering they had likely inflicted, just as well. Svetlana’s pimp, for example, or any number of the enemies that Duvessa had supposedly struck down in duels and other forms of violence over the past two hundred years. She was glad to have those hands in her good graces, even if perhaps only for the time being, as she feared saying or doing anything that might give her cause to use those hands for something other than pleasure and affection.
“My dear,” the Grand Duchess told her softly, “you should never allow yourself to foolishly take the gift of your second life for granted. I will admit now that, until just recently, I have been guilty of having done just that for a very, very long time. Worse still, I took for granted th
e lives of those around me. I allowed myself to believe that things could truly last forever simply because we had all been together for so long.” Raina felt her own stomach knotting inside and a lump forming in her throat, as though the sorrow she heard in Duvessa’s voice was her own. “I thought that my consorts could never leave me, that they could never be taken from me. I thought that we would be together forever, truly. And I was wrong. Someone of my age should not be so naïve as to believe something so childish. But I did. And, of course, I was wrong. Please do not make that same mistake, my dear.”
“I won’t,” Raina assured her in a murmur.
“There are others besides Countess Wilhelmina that wish to see me dead. You are familiar with the CROSS, are you not?”
Raina shrugged lightly. “I’ve seen their protest rallies on the news and around town. I’ve heard about some of the things they’ve done.”
“These people are more dangerous because they are not bound by the Code, and because they have humanity and religion on their side,” Duvessa cautioned her. “It is very difficult to battle someone that will never confront you directly, someone whom is always hiding behind policemen, politicians, and priests. What’s worse, even if you are confronted directly by one or more of them, you cannot intimidate them or force them to back down. You cannot threaten someone with death if they truly believe that they are guaranteed an eternal afterlife. To them, death is almost a desirable outcome because they sincerely believe that they will be rewarded in heaven for the crimes they commit against vampires in this life. And many of these people are not celebrities or millionaires, but rather simple-minded country folk. Their loyalty can rarely be bought. For the most part, they have no desire for worldly things. As such, someone with nothing to fear makes a truly frightening opponent.” She looked directly into Raina’s eyes. “Your biggest foe will not be the Countess, nor any other particular vampire, nor even the human race as a whole … but religious zealots, in general. And they walk both sides of the line, as humans and vampires, alike. Always be wary of these people, Raina. Never trust them.”
Raina was momentarily taken aback by the Grand Duchess’s intensity, yet another one of these small lectures that seemed to come from out of nowhere. Duvessa seemed to be following some sort of script of her own with these speeches, like a set of lessons she had rehearsed in advance in preparation of the odd event that she would just so happen to have an unexpected bloodspawn suddenly find herself under her care. Of course, thinking rationally, she perhaps had been through this sort of thing enough times in the past with her own prior bloodspawn that she had probably honed the process of “raising” a bloodspawn in the ways of the High Court, as well as advising them in how to follow in line with her own policies and philosophies.
This was all well and good, of course. But what seemed a bit unusual, perhaps a bit absurd, was the fact that she was so quickly leading into the details of taking over the duties of heading the House of Fallamhain and the IVC. Unusual, not because she wisely desired to secure her power base and protect her bloodline, but because none of her other bloodspawn had ever lived long enough to succeed her. Her consorts had an unfortunate habit of dying before being given a chance to fulfill their role as heir or heiress to her title. Then again, Raina was unaware of whether or not Duvessa had ever had a female consort before. Just the same, she wasn’t entirely sure why that thought suddenly occurred to her, or why that detail should even matter.
“Which brings us to the matter at hand this evening,” the Grand Duchess said. She paused for a moment, gently took hold of Raina’s hand, and asked, “I would very much appreciate your support tonight. I don’t do well with funerals.”
Raina blinked. “Funerals?”
“A memorial gathering for those we’ve lost,” she replied, “for my consorts, and their fallen servants. Nothing as formal as a service held in a church, of course, but it will be public, and there will be a few celebrity dignitaries present, as well as members of the media.”
Almost reflexively, Raina flinched at the word “media.” She hated cameras, and the idea of appearing before a virtual audience of millions (again) was unbearable. She wasn’t ready for this. She would never be ready for this kind of attention. There would be tabloid headlines with her image splashed across them, perhaps catching her making some odd face by chance that would give these fiction-writing gossip columns a visual basis for their stories. If she looked worn out or tired, they would claim that the Grand Duchess abused her. If she itched her nose, they would say she has a cocaine addiction. If she smiled at all, even once, they would say she was indifferent to everything and that she was in it all for the money. If they saw any kind of closeness between herself and Duvessa, she would be instantly labeled a lesbian … that is, assuming they hadn’t already, given her public introduction with Brenna. They could say anything. And they would say anything, surely – anything to sell magazines, gain viewers, or earn a few extra website hits. She didn’t want this, any of this. She wasn’t ready. She’d never be ready.
Sensing her swelling anxiety, Duvessa stroked her hand gently, giving her a warm smile. “Do not worry. The media is not something to be feared. Public opinion is more of a tool than a threat to us. I believe that now would be a golden opportunity for you to continue to make a good first impression upon others.”
“But … what if they ask questions? What if they want to talk to me?” Raina asked nervously.
“Then let them ask,” she answered soothingly, stroking her fingers through Raina’s hair affectionately. “You don’t have to answer them. Ignore them if you wish. I will not ask you to speak publicly tonight. I know that you are not comfortable with public attention. But given time, you will learn. As Duchess, you must learn to control the masses with your speeches, to have them hanging upon your every word, and to have them look upon you with admiration and respect. You will learn. I shall see to it.”
Everyone gathered in the Grand Duchess’s main suite and presented themselves for her visual approval. With everyone dressed and prepared to her liking, Duvessa gave the go-ahead to Loki and Robert to ready their vehicles. The swarm of photographers, reporters, and video camera operators in the lobby and outside the hotel was drastically thinner than it had been the previous night, perhaps twenty or thirty people strong, but still significant enough to set Raina’s insides into a series of knots. Duvessa had instructed her to remain calm and appear as indifferent and blank as possible. While she managed not to let her fear show upon her face, she could not help how stiffly she walked and how her hands were clenched solid with anxiety. Raina gripped the sword that now hung from her hip with her left hand as though she expected someone to run up and try to grab it from her … or, worse still, as if someone might suddenly force her to use it.
They made their way to the awaiting limousine and luxury SUV without much incident, aside from William reprimanding a couple of photographers that rudely chose not to switch off their flashbulbs when snapping pictures, momentarily blinding Raina. Brenna was directed to pile into the SUV with Loki along with Mary, Jen, and Ian, while everyone else fit rather comfortably within the stretched black Lincoln Town Car. For whatever reason, William stayed behind at the hotel, presumably to keep an eye on their belongings while everyone else was away.
While she had expected that they would be going to a funeral home, they instead made their way to a rather well-to-do neighborhood at the outskirts of Gold Canyon. There was very little conversation amongst the passengers of the limousine. Svetlana had been using the small LCD television screen in the back to watch the news. The media outlets were already replaying their departure from the hotel before clipping to file footage of Duke Sebastian with the Grand Duchess, whereupon Duvessa demanded that she switch it off immediately.
“It’s not enough that I’ve lost nearly every man that I have ever loved,” she said with disgust at what was being said in the report. “Now they’re placing bets on whether or not the Countess will finish what she’s started
. It’s all just a bloody game to them.” She visibly struggled to hold back her emotions as the limousine pulled into a gated and guarded property with a large circular driveway. “We have a lot of fake condolences and insincere sympathy ahead of us. Don’t let most of these people fool you, Raina. Most of them couldn’t care less if we live or die. As they see it, we’re only here for their amusement.”
“Then why are we doing this?”
“For Sebastian and the others,” she replied. “I feel terrible enough that I could not arrange a proper burial for any of them. As you know, we vampires are not often buried because others will find irresistible the temptation to dig us up and desecrate our remains.”
“You mean … like in the old days,” Raina said more than asked. “The stake and the garlic and…”
“Yes, yes, that,” Duvessa interrupted, waving it off. “I can’t even bear the thought of it. Anyhow, the least I can do is take time to publicly honor Sebastian’s memory, as I have done for the others.”
Raina found her vague reference to “the others” as a little odd. The idea of loving more than one man at a time was foreign enough to her, but how she could profess to have loved them so and yet casually refer to them in memory as “the others” seemed rather cold. Perhaps Sebastian was simply her favorite. He was apparently the eldest of her consorts, and the one with whom she had been the longest. Or perhaps her other consorts had simply come to be hers as a matter of convenience and politics, more like business partners that she slept with on the side … like William, Raina realized.
The Darkest Colors Page 43
