Darkness Embraced

by Pennington, Winter

  “Some of your clothes are in that chest.” She dipped her head in the direction of a chest that was tucked neatly into a corner. It did not surprise me that she still had some of my clothes. When she had disowned me as her pet I had only received the dresses and clothes that she had decided to return. Why she’d kept some of them, I could not say. I raised the latch and opened the lid to find a crimson dress neatly folded on top of the pile. I picked up the heavy material, running a fold through my hands.

  We do not have time, Cuinn said again, but this time, as if he shared my memory and moment of melancholy, his voice held sympathy.

  I felt Renata watching me from the doorway.

  Cuinn, I thought, setting the dress aside and finding a knee-length black tunic to slip into, if I have time to dress then you’ve got time to explain. I found a pair of gray trousers that were a few shades lighter than the tunic and pulled them on, lacing the ties over my hips. I made to move past Renata, when she caught my elbow and started to speak, but what she said clashed with Cuinn’s voice in my mind. I had a moment to hear her say “Why” before Cuinn chimed in with, There are ancient magics at work.

  I raised my hands. “Wait,” I said to Renata, “one at a time. Cuinn is explaining.” I said aloud, “Finish, Cuinn. I heard ancient magics. What about them?”

  Someone in your clan has summoned something, Epiphany.

  Are you sure?

  Aye.

  How are you sure?

  I sensed magic…dark and ancient.

  Do you know what it is?

  Behind my eyelids, I saw Cuinn give a shake of his head.

  Nay, I cannot tell from so far away.

  I looked up at Renata and said, “You should dress. I’ll explain then, but whatever it is that Cuinn is sensing scares him.”

  Renata went very still. “I may not trust the spirit, but I will trust your judgment, Epiphany.”

  “Why else would Cuinn wake us?” I asked. “He is bound to protect me, is he not?”

  She gave me an incredulous look. “One does not know how deep the binding goes with fox spirits.”

  “I remember, but I sense his fear, Renata, and it’s genuine.”

  She went to dress. I laced my boots and retrieved the fox blade.

  I heard something then. The sound was faint, as if it had come from somewhere deeper down the labyrinth of halls. It came again, an inaudible whisper like a breeze in the night.

  Renata emerged from the closet, her dark brows drawn together and head tilted.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “There is no wind here. There should be no sound whatsoever in the Sotto other than that of the Donatore and their Watchers.”

  She was right. Nothing in the Sotto should’ve been alive during the day to make a noise as strange as that.

  If what Cuinn had said was true, and it seemed it was, something or someone was out there. Did that mean that he was also telling the truth about something dark and ancient summoned? I closed my eyes.

  If ye combine your energy with mine, we can see what it is.

  I was about to think my answer when Cuinn showed me that he was not going to give me the time to frame a mental reply.

  The force of his energy hit me and I staggered, feeling the vague sense of falling. I felt Renata catch me at the elbow before the room fell away. The gray stone of the hallway came into view. We were running, running the hall on four paws, feeling the invisible wind raise and carry our tail high behind us. We rounded a corner, following the breeze of power and a cold, cold energy.

  At first, I couldn’t make sense of the shape at the end of the hallway. It appeared to be an incredibly tall human. From Cuinn’s height it was hard to guess exactly, but the cloaked figure must’ve been around seven feet tall. The figure moved, stepping into a spill of torchlight. The torchlight caught the glossy surface of its cloak, making it appear like black leather. A spur graced each slim shoulder. The figure turned and I realized it was no incredibly tall human. The cloak was actually thick wings that the creature had enfolded around its body. Two elongated black ears swiveled, and a mouth that was more feline than anything else I could compare it to, opened. The creature hissed, flicking a red ribbon of a tongue out from between very sharp upper and lower canines.

  That much, I saw before I came back to myself on Renata’s floor. My head was resting in her lap and she touched my forehead with gentle fingers. I moved, getting to my feet.

  “Epiphany, what is it?”

  The fox blade was still in my hand. “I don’t know. Someone summoned a…” I hesitated to call it a demon. But if it wasn’t a demon, what was it? “A demon…”

  “That is not possible.”

  “Apparently, it is,” I said, “because I just saw it.”

  She grabbed a handful of my hair and jerked me down to my knees. Her eyes were wide with fear. “Do you understand what you are telling me, Epiphany? Do you comprehend what you are saying? If someone in the Sotto has summoned anything, they have to be awake to summon it.”

  I spoke through gritted teeth. “Yes, I understand that. Renata, let me go.”

  She didn’t. “Why? What are you going to do?”

  I licked my lips. What was I going to do? I hadn’t thought about that. What would Vasco have done? The thought made me think of him.

  “Renata,” I said, swallowing, suddenly horrified. “Vasco. I have to check on him.”

  “If he were truly dead I would sense it, Epiphany.”

  “The sun is up. You cannot sense the death if one is already dead.”

  Her grip tightened harshly, making my scalp ache. “I would sense it.”

  She has not sensed the other.

  You know for a fact it has killed?

  I see more than ye, Cuinn said. It has devoured the life energy of its prey.

  I met Renata’s gaze and held it. “You can’t sense them die if they’re already dead during the day. Whoever conjured the beast did so for a reason. More than likely, just to kill us, but they are being clever. Think about it.”

  She let me go, her rich lashes fluttering. “If what you say is true then they summoned it during the day for that reason alone, that I would not sense their deaths.”

  “Yes. Renata, we don’t have time and you don’t have guards.” I left the room before she could stop me, heading toward the hall at a full out run. As I left the shelter of her bedroom, I felt her dread and worry like a dart in my side. Cuinn, understanding me, was silent.

  Would she follow? Undoubtedly, but I didn’t wait to see and she didn’t stop me.

  *

  I reached the hall where Cuinn and I had last seen the creature. I rounded the corner and held the sword aloft in a two-handed grip.

  “Stop.”

  The creature’s clawed hand paused in mid-motion where it reached for the door handle. The wide curve of its ears swiveled in what I sensed was irritation. A spaded tail swept the floor as it turned to face me.

  Its eyes were angular and seemed large set in a feline-like face. I saw myself reflected in black mirrors. The creature had no irises to speak of.

  The creature, caught somewhere between human, feline, and bat, spoke in a voice that was atrociously slow and lingering.

  “You ssshould be sssleeping, vampire.”

  Epiphany, Cuinn said, back up slowly.

  I took a very slow step back, but thought to ask, Why?

  Ye do not want to know. Trust me on that.

  Cuinn…

  The creature tilted its massive head.

  It took a step forward on its bowed leg. I brought the sword up between us, pointing it at the demon. “Stop,” I said again.

  Onyx eyes blinked and lowered to the sword’s point. A ripple of anger rolled through the demon’s cold energy, making it seem warm for an instant.

  “You dare to challenge me, dessscendant?”

  “No.” It was Renata’s voice that made me turn my head. She strode toward us in a dre
ss of black velvet, her hair still matted with blood.

  She sank to her knees in the stone hallway.

  I had never, in my entire existence seen the Queen kneel, to anyone or anything. She took in the creature’s face for the briefest moment, before she lowered her gaze in a gesture of respect. A gesture most reserved for her.

  In that one move, Renata acknowledged the creature as someone of higher status than herself. I did not understand it.

  “The lassst thing I expected to sssee from you half-breedsss isss ressspect.”

  “I know what you are,” she said, “Epiphany does not.”

  The demon-creature turned the full weight of its dense stare back to me.

  “Eeepiphanyyy,” it said, carefully enunciating each syllable, “that isss what you are called?”

  I sank to my knees. If showing respect would keep the creature from killing any of us, then I would do it for survival’s sake. I averted my eyes, not because I was acknowledging its status above Renata, but because the endless black pools were utterly unnerving.

  “Yes.”

  “You do not know what I am?”

  I opened my mouth to say, “demon,” and Cuinn’s voice blared through my mind, Do not call it that!

  I closed my mouth and tried truth instead. “No, I do not know what you are.”

  I sensed more than saw the creature’s attention return to Renata.

  “You do not teach them their hissstory?”

  “Only the Eldest of us know. It has been long since your kind walked among us.”

  “Thisss isss true,” the creature said in a voice that was almost thoughtful. “Tell your daughter what I am. Name me, vampire.”

  The fact that it had called me daughter meant that it knew Renata was my Siren. I wondered if the demon was capable of telling such a thing just by looking at us.

  “You are one of the Great Sires.”

  “That isss not my name,” the creature’s voice hissed like nails on glass. “I sssaid name me, vampire.”

  “It is not wise to speak your name.”

  The creature’s long obsidian tail swept the floor in agitation. The spaded tip hit the wall with a heavy thump.

  “Fairy talesss,” it said, hissing. “Name me!”

  I turned just in time to see Renata’s head jerk upright. Her eyes blazed with power, like the deepest ocean and clearest summer sky meeting and melding.

  “You are Dracule.”

  A spurt of satisfaction emitted from the dark being.

  “Wasss that ssso hard?”

  “Who summoned you, Great Sire?”

  The creature was silent. I used the silence to my advantage.

  Cuinn, do you know what the Dracule are?

  Aye.

  Tell me.

  “Firssst, tell your daughter what I am.”

  A distant relative. Your Queen will explain.

  Renata sat back on her heels, looking for all the world like she was relaxed, but I sensed the tension coming off her.

  “The Dracule are our Sires, Epiphany. They are the oldest of our kind.”

  “It’s a vampire?” I asked.

  “It’sss?” the creature hissed, taking a threatening step toward me. “You call me an it’sss?”

  I realized that, for the first time in two centuries, I’d made one of the biggest political blunders I could’ve ever made at what was more than likely the most inopportune of moments.

  My pulse leapt fiercely. I bowed my head.

  “I meant no offense, Great Dracule.”

  I heard its tongue flick out, tasting the air. “You ssspeak truth, but there isss more.”

  “I did not mean to insult you.” I sank a little lower into the bow, curving my body toward the floor. “Simply, instead of saying he or she, as I am not certain of your gender, I defaulted to it’s. I give you my sincerest apologies and beg your forgiveness.”

  The creature made a sound somewhere between a hiss and grunt. It took a moment for me to realize that it was laughing.

  “Would you like to sssee, vampire?”

  I bolted upright. “What?”

  The creature was walking toward me on its gracefully arched legs. The claws of its talon-like feet appeared very sharp indeed. I forced myself not to fidget or move away.

  The Dracule stopped in front of me, leaving an arm’s length of a space between us. I did not like that it had moved so close.

  “Would you like to sssee?”

  If ye want to win its favor, say aye.

  I wasn’t entirely sure what I was saying yes to and prayed Cuinn had not led me astray.

  “Yes.”

  One furred black shoulder raised. The leathery wing drew aside like a curtain. The creature turned its face to Renata and hissed.

  “I did not sssay you could sssee.”

  I watched as Renata casually averted her gaze.

  The Dracule spoke my name, calling my attention back to it. I sat on my heels, refusing to look away, refusing to allow myself to give in to the fear that sent my heart drumming against my ribcage. The other leathery wing rose and was drawn aside to reveal a surprisingly sleek and elegant body.

  In truth, the Dracule were not such hideous things. They were a wild beauty, yes, and perhaps some would think them the things of nightmares, but as I looked at the Dracule, I did not see something that was monstrous.

  The Dracule’s body was covered in shiny black fur. The fur glistened like silk and looked soft to the touch in the flickering torchlight. My eyes dropped from a slim neck to the two mounds at its chest. It was hard to tell through the fur, but I was fairly certain the mounds were breasts. I looked lower, past the flat plains of a stomach, over the arched curve of its hips, and to the slope below.

  There, at the Dracule’s groin, was a small furry node of flesh. It did not look male, though it did not look entirely female, either.

  The Dracule ran an almost human hand down its stomach, lightly touching the top of the fur between its thighs. As it had five fingers and opposable thumbs, it was almost human. The sharp silver claws that unsheathed from the tips of those fingers were terribly contrary to human.

  “You wonder what thisss isss?” the Dracule asked.

  “Yes,” I said, hastily adding, “Forgive my ignorance.”

  The Dracule sheathed its claws in a soundless move. It parted its legs slightly and pressed two fingers to the base of the little mound.

  “It isss like yoursss, only more.”

  Does that mean it’s female?

  Aye, Cuinn said, sounding amused. ‘T is a girl.

  I held the Dracule’s bottomless gaze and tried not to show the awkwardness I felt in regard to the situation. Beneath the awkwardness, I admit, was a fine thread of curiosity that I also tried not to reveal, having no idea what effect it would have on her.

  “Thank you, Dracule,” I murmured, inclining my head respectfully. “I do appreciate your forthrightness.”

  It was hard to tell by looking at her, but I sensed distantly that she was amused with me.

  Renata broke the silence that followed my words by asking, “Who summoned you?”

  The Dracule kept looking at me. The corners of her furred mouth raised in what I thought was a smile, albeit, a disconcerting one.

  “Sssomeone clossse and not ssso clossse.”

  “You speak in riddle.”

  The Dracule looked at her then. “And you have not given me reassson to ssspeak otherwissse, vampire.”

  “What would make you speak otherwise, Dracule?”

  Its ears swiveled and I realized it was thinking. The leathery wings snapped like a clap of thunder and I jumped. It settled those wings like a cloak around its body.

  “Her.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  For the first time in my undead life, I was sincerely too frightened to speak. I heard Renata’s voice, as if coming from the other end of the hall.

  “You are implying that the joy of Epiphany’s body would be worth the name of the one wh
o summoned you?”

  “No,” the Dracule said. “The joy of your vampire’sss body will be worth the protection of three I wasss sssummoned to take.”

  “You have already taken the soul of one of my vampires,” she said and made it clear that she was not happy about that transgression. “Will you trick her and only spare her two?”

  “I will ssspare her three.”

  The dimly lit hallway went unbelievably silent. I realized they were both staring at me. I met Renata’s inquiring look.

  “I do not know what to say.”

  “Yesss or no,” the Dracule said.

  Renata spoke to the tall creature. “On one condition, Dracule, as I know your kind are a bargaining lot. If Epiphany agrees to bed you, as her Queen, I am to be present.”

  “Fair enough.” The Dracule raised her shoulders in an awkward version of a shrug. “It isss not like I could not have already taken her sssoul if that isss what I wanted.”

  “Why haven’t you?” I asked.

  The Dracule did not answer.

  Renata’s voice flowed through my mind, like something liquid and touchable.

  Curiosity, she said, it has and will always be the Dracule’s greatest virtue and greatest vice.

  Still, the Dracule did not answer.

  You speak like one who has had experience, I thought.

  Epiphany, if you agree, I do not advise letting it touch you between the legs with its hands.

  I remembered the tiny silver claws that the Dracule had unsheathed and shuddered to think of the possibilities.

  Guide me, I told her. What do you want me to do?

  Her voice seemed to sigh in my mind. As much as I despise sharing, this seems the lesser of two evils. The Dracule are honorable, in a way, and they do love to barter. Once summoned, only a bargain of more worth will lead them astray of their original intent.

  Can we trust her?

  We do not have much of a choice. I would advise you to decline if I thought your little fox spirito was a match for one of the Greater Dracule.

  Cuinn?

  I didn’t have to ask the question as he understood my thoughts.

  Your Queen is correct. Ye can kill the Dracule with the blade, but ye’d have to catch her first.

  I turned to Renata.