“You will need to remove your tunic.”
Tunic? I mean...really? How removed from reality where these people? I had spent a lot of time with Wei, Alan, and Dmitri. Despite a severe r lack of pop culture knowledge, which I did my absolute best to fix, they were pretty up and up in the culture of modern humanity. Dawdle and tunic where just not words I was used to hearing.
“Okay.” I tugged my shirt off, which was totally ruined, and laid it over the sink. I used the triple mirror to get a look at myself. The scratches were just below my bra line, and they were pretty wicked. They could have been worse, but I was pretty sure that they were going to need stitches.
“Sit,” she said, pointing a single finger towards the toilet seat. “I will attend you.”
I blinked. “Uh, I don't know how to say this without being rude...but I don't think you can help.”
She gave me a bland look. “I am quickly forming the opinion that a great deal of what you say will be both rude and honest. While I cannot express pleasure in the former, the latter is a refreshing thing to hear, and thus will forgive that transgression.” She waved towards the seat again. “However, while Yasmina has a gift for wounding, I have a gift for mending. Please, sit.”
I don't know if it was the pain, the fancy words, or the please that had me plopping myself down, but I did it. I straddled the seat backwards and laid my head down until my forehead touched cool porcelain. A moment later her cool fingers touched my back. I expected my raw skin to burn from her touch. It didn't, in fact the coolness was soothing. Then I felt a hint of magic.
“A vampire who can heal?” I said.
“It is a useful trick when there is little food to choose from, especially in times when minds are small.”
There was a whole story in that sentence, but I didn't have the time to ask her about it, because she kept talking.
“I wish that I had been here when Wei went missing. I could have found him. I could have helped him.”
“You still can,” I blurted. I was struck silent as a sudden freezing sensation spread over my back. I felt my muscles twitch. Then it came to an immediate halt.
“What?” she demanded. Her voice was rich with feeling.
I turned as much as my current position would allow. “Wei isn't dead. Missing, yes, but not dead. I came here tonight to get Alan and Dmitri's help to find him. But...well...then all this nonsense happened and here we are.”
She took my chin in her hands. They were still cool. “There is honesty in your eyes.”
I frowned at her. “Uh, yeah? Why would I lie about that?”
She turned my head more and I was forced to stand up. I wasn't a tall woman by anyone's standards, but I had to look down at her. She was so dainty, so petite. “You care for him.”
I shifted uncomfortably. I hadn't really admitted that to anyone before. And, you know, the first time I said it I kinda wanted it to be to Wei himself, not standing half naked in a bathroom with blood on my arm and my back to a vampire lady. Just saying.
Her smile was small, but warm. “Oh, you poor thing.” It disappeared instantly and she gripped my arm. “You cannot say anything to Vlad of this.”
I winced. Her grip relaxed, but I pulled away anyway. “Jeez, what the heck?”
She shook her head and pursed her lips. “Wash. I will find you a dress.”
No amount of coaxing could get her to elaborate on what she had said. With no other choice, I took a quick shower, my second one of the day. I didn't cry this time. I considered that to be a step in the right direction. I changed into the dress she offered, and within half an hour followed her downstairs.
CHAPTER FOUR
The lights had been dimmed. Dark fabric tossed over lamps and shades alike, until the entire mansion was cast in muted brilliance. I had always loved the way the mansion looked, the walls and floors were made out of all of these rich woods, and the decorating had been elegant. I knew most of the pictures that hung on the walls were of Dmitri's creation, and that it had been Wei who had carved the banisters. My fingers lingered there, as if touching the carving would bring me closer to him.
I was lead to a room I recognized but hadn't spent a whole lot of time in. The formal dining room. Most of my meals had been taken sitting at the little table in the kitchen while I talked with Peter, the major domo and butler to the mansion. He was nowhere to be seen, but there were plenty of other faces.
As far as I could tell, just about all of the vampires were here. Vlad, his three brides, the daughters of the three brides, and Alan and Dmitri all moved to sit along the long dark wood table. I wondered if Wei had carved this too.
“My brides, my daughters,” Vlad said as all eyes turned to me, “this is Lorena Quinn, the witch that we have heard so much about.” He got up and linked his arm through mine as if in some formal introduction. Then again, I was wearing about ten yards of blue velvet. This was about as formal as it got. Why I got to wear blue and everyone else wore black, I didn't know.
Yeah, okay. What was up with that? What had been said about me and, better question, why? I swallowed hard while I looked into one face and then the next, doing my absolute best to put a name to a person. Once upon a time, on a very nice date with Alan, he had told me the names of all of his vampire brethren. I was really struggling to remember them now.
“You will join us for our meal.”
I would? I thought as he maneuvered me around the table. Again, I got the feeling that I didn't have a whole lot of choice. Also, while I knew that vampires could eat, I also knew that they didn't actually gain any nutrition from partaking of mortal food. So, what on earth were they going to be serving for this meal? I had a terrible image of some poor human just being carted out for everyone to eat from. I wasn't sure I could handle that. No, scratch that. I was absolutely positive that I couldn't handle that.
I was led to a seat on the left at the head of the table and even though I had never attended a fancy dinner party before I was pretty sure that was a big deal, mostly because of the mix of emotions the vampires were sending all over the room as Vlad pulled out the chair for me. I glanced around, and saw faces that were either blank or filled with open contempt. Oh goodie.
“Please, sit.”
It sounded more like a command than a request, but I sat anyway. I had to admit I was pretty curious about everyone and with everyone here, I needed only to make my announcement once. Yeah, okay, Genevieve had told me not to, but if someone wasn't going to bother telling me why I needed to do something I was far less inclined to obey.
With militant efficiency, Vlad had me sitting in the chair and tucked up to the table in one smooth move. I had almost forgotten that he was, historically speaking, a military leader. I don't know how.
“Welcome to our table,” said the woman across from me. “I am Anja.” Her hair and eyes were as dark and rich as Vlad's, but she didn't need a smile to look like a ten. She looked to be a few years older than myself, with skin so pale that I could have followed her veins from her neck to her toes if I had the chance. The black gown she wore came all the way up to her collar bone, and a wide choker of rich velvet covered a good portion of her neck.
“Thank you,” I responded.
She nodded her head, but didn't bother to say anything else.
“Where will I sit?”
Genevieve was standing in the doorway, her dark fan snapped closed against her palm. Her face held a perfect emptiness, but even so I could feel tension radiating off of her like a plucked wire. What was she so upset about? She'd been upset ever since she told me not to tell Vlad about Wei.
“You will sit by your brother.”
I glanced down the line of the table and saw that Alan was pretty much at the other end of the table. She looked at Vlad, looked at the empty seat, and looked at me. I didn't need necromancer senses to know she wasn't totally okay with that arrangement. It was okay, I wasn't comfortable with it either. I'd much rather sit next to Alan.
“I-” I started
to say. I already had one vampire bride pissed off at me, I didn't want another one.
“You are a guest in this house, and a bearer of prophecy. It is your right to sit at my left hand.”
Yeah, that sounded a lot more important than I felt. I gave Genevieve a look that told her how sorry I was, but she wasn't looking at me anymore. She glided gracefully around to her new seat, pausing until Alan helped her into it.
“Well, that was fascinating.” The woman to my left said, her voice purring and rich.
This woman had skin the color of gold dust, not too dissimilar from Wei's, but the rest of her looked more like Reikah. Her long straight hair was held back with a small scrap of black and gold material and the wrapped dress she wore had the markings of a very expensive sari. She also wore more jewelry than I had ever seen in my lifetime, including a length of golden chain that went from her nose to her ear. Her wrists jingled with a wealth of bracelets as she reached out to take my chin in her hand. She looked deep into my eyes and for a moment I was pretty sure she was going to kiss me.
“Ahh, there it is, the spark of prophecy,” she said, still keeping her eyes riveted on mine. “Yes, Lorena Quinn, I see it in you. What do you plan on doing about it?”
“Uhhhh,” I, master of the monosyllable, said.
“I'm Rehema.” She dropped her hand from my chin as quickly as I held it. “I am the daughter of Anja and Vlad.”
“Rehema is a prophetess,” Vlad said with a great deal of pride before moving to his own seat.
“She's also a tad arrogant if ya dinnae pick up on that already” said another woman. This one pale and red headed. Her voice lilting with the rhythm of one of the British Isles. It wasn't quite Scottish, nor Irish, but something that fell in between. “and she hogs all the wine.”
Rehema shrugged her shoulder, completely unrepentant, her lips quirked into a little grin. “Seeing the future takes a toll on the spirit, if a little wine helps, I'll enjoy it.”
As if on cue, Peter came out from a door I hadn't noticed before, a decanter in his grip. He paused for a nanosecond as his eyes landed on me but he did not offer me his usual happy greeting before he began to pour out a glass of rich red wine for everyone. Well, everyone but me.
“Uhh, Peter,” I said, finally speaking up, “I...uhh...you forgot me.”
Peter bowed his head so low I could see the top of it. That was also weird. Peter never bowed to me, not like that. He was more my friend than my servant.
“He will bring you something else,” Vlad snapped.
I blinked in confusion. It was Peter who explained. “I do not believe blood wine will be to your taste.”
Oh. Right. Blood wine. “Thank you, Peter.”
“Do not thank a servant for doing their job,” Vlad commanded me.
I frowned. I had worked in fast food. I wasn't okay with that kind of mentality, but when I opened my mouth to say just that a hand liberally decorated with rings wrapped tightly around my wrist in warning. I was surprised enough that I didn't get a moment to say whatever it was that I had been planning to, as the final guest for this unnecessary dinner came in.
She was beautiful. Okay, all the vampires were beautiful, but this one more so, maybe more so because she wasn't wearing the required black. She had the features of a Native American, with a broad square face and sharp nose. Her black hair was plaited into two rich braids, each wrapped in a piece of leather that had been sewn with beads. Her entire outfit had the same intricate bead work, so that the simple leather dress she wore glittered with every move. Her bare arms boasted the kind of fitness that I admired, but had no desire to obtain. But it wasn't just her appearance that made her pretty, there was something in her presence. A force that drew the eyes and held them. I was, in every way, intimidated.
“Well, the warrior princess rises,” the red head said with a roll of her eyes, “well don't just stand there, Kateri, have a seat.”
But Kateri was just standing there, she was staring at me. Oh great. What had I done now?
“Your dress is blue,” her voice was rich and deep for a woman's, but not unattractive.
I looked down at it. “Yes?” I said, not sure what else I was supposed to say.
“Don't be jealous, Kateri,” Rehmea said, lifting a glass in the warrior woman's direction. “Just because Wei couldn't bring himself to love you.”
Wait. What? I heard Alan hiss down at the end of the table. If I heard it. Everyone did. What did blue have to do with anything. And, more importantly, what was this about Wei not loving her? I mean, news to me.
“For all your prophecy, it is clear that you know nothing.”
Kateri ignored me as she took her own seat. I looked at Vlad, not sure why I was expecting him to explain anything. So far all he had done was watch the melodrama around him with a bemused expression and snap at people who he thought of as servants.
“Blue is the color that only a bride may where when her love has died. When mourning, all where black, except her.”
“Wei and I were not married.”
He shrugged. “You cared for him. It is obvious.”
“It's ridiculous,” Kateri said. “There can be no love between that which is vampire and that which is food. A human cannot love a stew.”
Well, as someone with a deep and abiding appreciation for food, I wasn't sure that was true, but I wasn't going to say that out loud.
“I love Wei,” is what came out of my mouth. I wanted to go on. To tell them that he wasn't dead but a hand wrapped over mine. It was Vlad's.
The tension in the room, already pretty high, radiated. It was a hum in my head. Maybe it was being around all the vampires, but I was getting glimpses of feelings and energies that I just didn't know how to handle. Stupid necromancy, always being confusing. I tried to block it all out, but instead I got little glimpses, images and pictures in my head. Some that made sense, some that didn't.
The first image, I knew, came from Genevieve. It was a repetition in my head of our earlier conversation. More like a gift than an image, a looping repetition of; don't tell him, do not tell him.
She still wasn't telling me why, though.
The next image was, I assume, from Alan. It wasn't a fixed loop like Genevieve's was, but it was of Genevieve. It must have been before she was a vampire. She looked younger, rosy cheeked and jubilant. Her pale hand was patting an older woman's brow. My insight told me that it was her mother, and that she was sick. Then Vlad's hand curled over Genevieve's young shoulder.
It felt creepy.
Then there was Dmitri, big protective lug. He was thinking of charging across the table and slamming his bulk in its hulked-out form, into Vlad. I could feel the desire to do it, to get his father away from me, like a fire simmering in his undead veins.
Then there was Kateri. She was thinking of Wei, of her hands skimming along his chest and going lower. I wasn't sure if it was a memory or a fantasy. Either way it was vivid. I shut it out.
But that left Vlad. And what was happening in his mind involved me and a lot of things that I had only read about.
I jerked my hand away from his, and stepped away from the table so fast that the chair slapped against the floor. I had a deja vu moment of the same thing happening in my own kitchen before I snapped angrily. “What the hell?”
He smiled at me, and it was as sharp as it was silken. “Have I done something to offend?”
I could feel everyone telling me not to do it, not to say it. But let's face it. I'm me. I have the worst habit of doing exactly what people tell me not to do.
“Seriously? Are you kidding? Let's start with the part where you got all kissy with my hand without even asking if I was cool with you touching me. Then how you just watched while your wife beat up on me. I mean, jeez. Here you are, supposed to be this great big commander and Alan, the least violent person I know, is the one who helps me out? What the hell?” I threw my hands up in the air. Rehema was tugging at my sleeve. I ignored her. I had no patience for politen
ess tonight. I didn't care if Vlad the Impaler decided to flip out on me. I was tired of being scared. “And you know what? That's not even the worst of it, you treat Peter like shit. And you know what? That doesn't fly with me.”
“He is a servant.”
“Are you serious?” I was so mad I was pretty sure I shrieked it. “Servant doesn't mean less than. I don't know if you know this, but America is all about everyone being equal.”
He smiled at me, and it was one of those southern belle smiles. Not pretty and feminine, but the “oh honey” kind of smile. Where you almost feel bad for someone because they've done something stupid. “How young you are to believe such things.”
House Of Vampires 3 (The Lorena Quinn Trilogy) Page 5
