Darkness Embraced

by Pennington, Winter

  Renata knelt much as Lucrezia had.

  “Dante,” she said. “Dominique.” She called their names like a cool command.

  Gaspare spoke then, his voice thin and frantic. “Mia padrona! No! Per favore!” he pleaded.

  I tried to follow and only managed to catch, my mistress, no, please. You’d think that after two hundred years I’d have learned more Italian. Well, guess again. Considering the only time Vasco spoke it was when he was cursing at something, and the only time the others spoke it was when they were trying to be sneaky, my knowledge only went so far. Very quickly spoken Italian was too far. I’d never been adept at translating that.

  Dante and Dominique came to us. Dante was naked from the waist up, wearing only a pair of red leather pants and dark boots. Dominique wore black leather, with a plain white T-shirt stretched over the bulk of his chest. For the sake of my own survival and health, I wouldn’t in a million years have started a fight with either one of them. Supernatural strength or no, they were both built like their bodies were made for throwing people around. As guards, that was pretty much what they did. They protected the Queen. If that meant throwing people around, I’d no doubt that either of them would not hesitate to do it.

  Dante reached out to touch my shoulder and Dominique stopped him, shaking his head and sending his dark braid swaying down his back.

  Gaspare pleaded relentlessly. Renata ignored him. Vasco still had his foot on the back of his head. I wondered if he was getting a leg cramp, but highly doubted it.

  Gaspare tried to wriggle out from under me and I pulled his arms up even higher, slamming my knees down into his back. Vasco shifted his foot to the back of Gaspare’s neck, leaning his weight into it.

  I dropped my gaze to the black velvet of Gaspare’s back and said through gritted teeth, “He’s going to fight you.”

  Dominique responded loud enough that I could hear him over Gaspare’s slew of frantic Italian. “Let us worry about that, piccolo.”

  I ignored the fact that he’d called me a nickname that meant “little.” Dominique had never been rude to me or treated me badly.

  I slowly started to get up and then realized slow wasn’t going to work with the way Gaspare was struggling.

  I got up in one fluid stretch and moved out of the way.

  Dominique and Dante moved in unison, as if they instinctively knew what Gaspare would try to do and they’d rehearsed beforehand just how they would react. Dante grabbed Gaspare’s kicking feet while Dominique caught him by the arms.

  They carried Gaspare out of the room like that, with Gaspare stretched out like a wiggling eel between them.

  Only then did Vasco sheath the fox blade.

  Relief and tiredness left my body in the form of a sigh. It occurred to me why I had never stood up and defended myself against the Elders. I looked out over their faces and saw that half of them held contempt while the other half held either disinterest or curiosity. Sognare’s wizened eyes met mine and I guessed that he had taken his seat for lack of anything better to do, for I had not heard Renata order him to do so. There was a certain amount of curiosity in his gaze that I did not understand.

  I never stood up and defended myself against them, because some of them I would always have to defend myself against. I had thought it better to be as quiet as a mouse hiding in the long grass and hoping the predator would pass me by than a tiger whose very bold colors and stripes invoked challenge.

  I turned to Vasco, who gave a slow nod, as if to let me know that he understood my thoughts and had seen the looks too.

  I had just declared my very bold colors by standing up to Gaspare.

  Aye, Cuinn said softly, but this is the way things are meant to be.

  I hope you’re right.

  I am right in that I know ye are more than ye seem, Epiphany, and these vampires have not reckoned the half of it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Renata waited until Dominique and Dante had returned to proceed. Vasco was sent to admit two lesser attendant vampires into the room. The girl was only a few inches taller than the boy and they both appeared to be about some twenty years of age, though I knew they were much older, not yet two hundred, but older still.

  They kept their heads at an angle so that their long hair hid their youthful features. The girl’s hair was a blond so light that it was almost white. The boy’s hair was a honey blond so dark it bordered on brown. They set about preparing the dream trial area. I watched, curious, as they arranged large fur rugs on the floor.

  I turned in time to catch Sognare hobbling over on his cane. His silver beard trailed the floor as he made his way to me. Thick brown robes covered him from neck to foot. Sognare’s eyes were almost as gray as the hair on his head, but not quite, for there was a dusting of blue in them.

  “Come,” he said, “sit.”

  I sat crossed-legged on a thick gray rug. What animal the rugs had once been, I did not know, nor did I particularly care to find out.

  “You have fed, yes?”

  I could still taste Renata’s blood in my mouth, something faint, but sweet and metallic. I closed my eyes trying to hide the remembrance. I inclined my head and said, “I have.”

  “Good,” he said, using his crooked wooden stave of a cane to help lower his elderly body to the ground.

  It took long enough that I couldn’t help but smile and say softly, “That body of yours doesn’t seem very convenient.”

  Behind his long beard, I thought I saw the flash of a smile. “Ahh, the folly of the old,” he said, “I feared death, and now I find myself stuck in a perpetual state of it, bag of brittle bones.” He chuckled, crossing his legs to mirror mine.

  I seriously doubted the old wizard of a vampire was that brittle of bone. One of the benefits of being a vampire, the body heals at a supernatural pace. It’d taken a great deal of strength for me to break Gaspare’s wrist, and had I been human, I probably wouldn’t have been able to do it. It’d probably take as much strength to break Sognare’s wrist, despite appearances to the contrary.

  Vasco began walking a circle around us; only this time he did not use his sword.

  “We shall begin while Signore Vasco sees to the anello di protezione,” he said. “Close your eyes, Epiphany.”

  I did as told, hoping that the area of protection would protect me as well.

  Sognare, the Lord of Dreams, began humming a solemn tune that was at once haunting and melancholic. I let go of my thoughts and listened to him.

  When all was quiet, I waited, flinching when I felt his gnarled fingers brush across my eyelids.

  “Exoculo,” he murmured.

  “Consopio.” His fingers touched my brow.

  “Alucinor.” His touch stopped at my temples.

  Sognare’s power reached out toward the center of my being like some great clawed hand. I found myself dizzy and sick.

  *

  There was nothing, nothing but complete and utter darkness. As soon as I thought it, there was cold, a cold that cut to the very bones of my body, fierce and sharp like needles. I reached out with my hands and felt nothing, nothing but air and darkness, nothing but that stabbing cold. I shivered with it, my teeth chattering and rattling my skull.

  That was wrong.

  As a vampire, I should not have felt the cold like a killing thing. I forced myself to focus and reached down, feeling the ground beneath me. Frozen blades of grass cut my hands and I raised them, feeling the blood trickling, but unable to see into such impenetrable darkness. I should have been able to see, at least enough to make out certain shapes.

  I held my hands to my chest and got my feet under me. The darkness in my head spun like an invisible vortex. A light kissed the edge of that darkness, a light that spread its pink and orange fingers across the sky.

  I saw the green field frozen, frozen beneath layers of crystalline ice.

  I looked for the source of that pink-orange hand, and fear lodged in my chest.

  Sunlight, coming to burn me alive. I
t was rising and when it rose…I ran, blades of iced grass cutting my feet. I slipped and fell, scrambled back up again, running with sheer terror, encouraged by centuries of instinct.

  You cannot run!

  I looked back to see Cuinn’s sleek form running toward me. His long body seemed to cut through the air, his paws never making a sound.

  Cuinn was suddenly next to me. I buried my hands in his fiery fur, shielding my face in his scruff.

  Cuinn, I thought, terrified, Cuinn, what do I do if I cannot run?

  Ye break the Dream Master’s hold.

  Cuinn faced the sun and his muscles rippled in anticipation beneath my hand. He gave a fierce warning yip that seemed to echo out over the land. The light seemed to hesitate, rays wavering. He took a step forward and a growl unlike any I’d ever heard from a fox slipped past his blackened lips. Again, the sun’s power hesitated, as if unsure whether or not it wanted to face the fox spirit’s power.

  I opened myself and felt Cuinn’s courage. I filled myself with the fox’s courage until it felt I would burst with it. I turned to face the light. Cuinn’s tall head bumped my hand, and when I took a step forward, he followed.

  With each step the sun began to sink back. I focused on the cold, on drawing it inside myself. The crescent of something darker and larger than the sun began to rise.

  “Now!” Cuinn yipped with happy delight and we were running, running full out toward the sun and the moon our power had conjured.

  *

  I came to myself and found my attire soaked. The throne room spun wildly in my vision, and I had to close my eyes to keep from wavering on my knees.

  Sognare’s voice came. “She has broken my hold,” he said and his voice was empty, but his eyes held something I couldn’t read and wasn’t sure I trusted. “She has passed my test.”

  I wondered if he knew that I had passed his test with Cuinn’s aid.

  Cuinn’s voice filled my mind. I remain unseen when I wish.

  When I stood, a chorus of small glass shattered to the ground at my feet.

  There was blood on my hands. I realized the tiny shards on the floor were not glass, but icicles. “You could have killed me.”

  Sognare, leaning heavily on his cane, inclined his head. I saw Vasco retrace his steps, taking the circle of protection down.

  A rock of fear dropped to the pit of my stomach. I had not known that his visions were powerful enough that he could inflict harm with them.

  Yet again, it seemed Cuinn had saved my life.

  Nay, he whispered, I merely give ye the tools.

  Vasco touched my shoulder and I flinched, coming back to myself with a flurry of thoughts.

  “The Queen is addressing you, Epiphany.”

  I turned to Renata. “Yes, my lady?”

  There was a look on her face that I couldn’t quite fathom. Her eyes searched my gaze, but what she said was, “You are excused, Epiphany.”

  I bowed my head. “Thank you, my lady.”

  Vasco gave me his arm and I took it.

  We were almost to the doors when Renata’s voice stopped us in our tracks.

  “I did not give you permission to leave, Vasco.”

  Vasco sank gracefully to his knees, bowing his entire body forward. “Forgive me, Padrona. I sought only to escort the lady to her chamber.”

  The fact that he hadn’t called me by name meant that he was as worried about being stopped as I was. Why had she stopped us? Was she reasserting her control, reinforcing her position as Queen in front of the Elders?

  “Then ask if you may leave, Vasco. Do not assume when I have not granted you permission.”

  He sank a little lower into his bow. “Sì, my lady. I apologize. Might I escort the Lady Epiphany to her room?”

  “No.”

  Vasco looked up then. I tried not to let the surprise show on my face. Would she seriously forbid Vasco to see me to my room? It was a gesture he had done for so many years.

  Vasco didn’t bother with trying to keep the question from his face. He gave Renata that wide-eyed stare and told her with his eyes that he could not believe she would be so petty. Before he could open his mouth to argue, Renata’s lips parted.

  “No,” she said. “Escort the lady to my private chambers.”

  Vasco bowed again. I think, this time trying to hide his expression. Though he hid his expression from the Rosso Lussuria clan, I felt the emotions unfurl inside him—astonishment, shock, and then a deep-seated worry. His emotional reaction overshadowed my own until I wasn’t quite sure what I felt.

  Lucrezia made a displeased noise low in her throat. “So she is indeed your little pet bitch again.”

  Renata turned on her like the raging sea. “Many of you seem to have forgotten that I am your Queen.”

  “I have not forgotten, my lady,” Lucrezia said in a voice gone flat.

  Renata’s voice held power like a crashing wave. “Hold your tongue, Lucrezia,” she said, splendid and frightening. “I did not ask you to speak. Be careful that the madness you do so enjoy inspiring in others is not a madness which spills from your lips and to my ears again, for the next time you speak out of turn, I will cut your tongue out myself.”

  If I had thought Vasco the fastest of us, I had sorely underestimated Renata.

  Lucrezia’s mouth opened and Renata never gave her the chance to speak. She sent her flying down the steps as if she weighed nothing, and I might’ve believed Lucrezia weighed nothing, if she did not fall with such a messy and heavy thud.

  Renata stepped down, meeting Lucrezia’s wild-eyed look. Lucrezia didn’t move. She remained on her side, propping herself up on her hands and looking up at Renata.

  The look in her eyes was venomous.

  “Dominique, Dante,” Renata said and her voice still contained power like the sharp edge of a blade.

  Lucrezia’s eyes were slits of challenge.

  Dominique and Dante moved quietly toward Lucrezia.

  “No,” she commanded coolly. Her red lips curved into a cruel smile that was directed at Lucrezia. “Fetch Gaspare. It is time to remind the Rosso Lussuria of what their Queen is capable of. Vasco,” she said, eyes never flicking from Lucrezia’s, “escort your lady.”

  Vasco gave a quick bow of his head. “My Queen, if it is no trouble, I would very much like to remain at your side this night.”

  “Escort Epiphany,” she said. “Then, if it is your will, return to my side.”

  “It is, my lady.”

  “Go.”

  Vasco caught my arm. He tried to turn me toward the double doors that Dominique and Dante held open, but I dug in my heels. Renata noticed my reluctance.

  Go. What I will do here tonight is not something I wish you to play witness to, her voice whispered through my mind like a breeze tickling dry leaves.

  I turned with Vasco and did as I was told.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I paced the length of Renata’s chamber. Vasco reclined on the bed with his legs crossed at the ankles. His longs arms were tucked back behind his head. I was aware that he was watching me, aware of the flickering sense of curiosity that emitted from him. It seemed that my powers were growing, for me to be able to sense such a small thing as curiosity. As he said he would, Vasco had escorted me to Renata’s bedroom and then had left to stand at her side. An hour and half later, he returned with a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. I hadn’t understood his look of pride and satisfaction.

  “Colombina,” he said.

  I paused. “Hmm?”

  “You are pacing like an impatient cat,” he said. “Why?”

  “What is she doing, Vasco? Why order me to her chambers in front of the Elders? Why is she placing both of us, all of us, at risk? I felt your fear. I sensed your dread, your worry.”

  “Did you sense anything from the others?” he asked and the tone of his voice was almost casual.

  I shook my head. “No, but I wasn’t trying to sense anything from them either.”

  “What abou
t Lucrezia? You heard her words. What did you sense behind them, colombina?”

  I gave a bitter laugh. “Lucrezia is filled with anger, hatred, and envy. She always has been. It’s hard to sense anything beyond that.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Why?” I blinked, giving him an uncomprehending look.

  “Sì,” he said. “What motivates those feelings?”

  I pursed my lips in thought. “I don’t know. Where are you going with this, Vasco?”

  He smiled wide enough to flash the length of his canines. “Know thy enemy.”

  I started pacing again. “Power and envy,” I said. “She craves power. I’ve watched her try to take it from others for years. She’s envious of Renata’s power, of anyone that has more power than she does.”

  “Sì,” he said. “It is hard for you to have the perspective the rest of us have, as we have been together far longer.”

  His words made me stop in my tracks. “By human definitions, I am not so young, Vasco, not as young as some of you treat me.”

  “I know,” he said giving me a look of silent understanding. “But you were not there when Lucrezia came to the Rosso Lussuria, seeking sanctuary from her maestà. Her mind was a fragile thing. We did not think she would survive, and if it had not been for her own blossoming power she would not have.”

  “What do you mean?” I sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Lucrezia and her master shared a similar gift,” he said, “both carry the Kiss of Madness.”

  “The Kiss of Madness?”

  “She can break a person’s mind with a single kiss, mortal or immortal. Her king tried to use the kiss against her, to punish her when she sexually abused one of his lovers.”

  I had known that Lucrezia liked her sex spiced with pain. For decades with Renata, our lovemaking was often the intermingling of pleasure and pain, her dominant will eliciting my total surrender. Yet, I hesitated to compare Renata’s desires with Lucrezia’s. In a sense, Lucrezia’s idea of sex wasn’t sex at all. Torture and rape seem more appropriate terms in regard to Lucrezia’s style.