Summoning Shadows: A Rosso Lussuria Vampire Novel

by Pennington, Winter

  Renata’s lacquered nails swept lightly across the skin at the base of my neck and I shivered.

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  The Rosso Lussuria itself had never been my home. I had not realized that until the day Renata had cast me from her bed.

  She was my home.

  Vasco was my family. But the rest of the clan moved around me, past me, without ever becoming part of me.

  Renata stooped to kiss my cheek. She ruffled my hair affectionately and I watched her disappear into the bathing room, hearing the rush of water as it filled the tub.

  I sighed and downed the glass of Iliaria’s blood. Partly, I think she offered it to me because she felt bad for hurting me.

  How’s your arse? Cuinn asked cheekily.

  It’s well, Cuinn. Thanks for your concern.

  What’s bugging…err…troubling ya, Piph?

  What do you mean?

  Why so melancholic?

  I thought about it and shook my head.

  Honestly, I don’t know.

  You can talk to me, Piph.

  I know, Cuinn.

  I shut my eyes, blocking out the sight of Renata’s bedroom. I saw Cuinn behind my lids, his fox eyes gentle and compassionate.

  I know what’s really bothering ye. It’s all right to admit you’re scared.

  Admitting I am afraid doesn’t make it better.

  Cuinn sat on his haunches, proud and straight and taller than any fox I’d ever seen in the wild.

  I won’t let anything happen to you, Piph. If those big ol’ bat-beasts mess with ye, they’ll be getting my bollocks in a twist, and trust me, they don’t want to do that.

  I laughed. Leave it to you to paint such a colorful picture. I’ll certainly keep that in mind.

  Do, he said. And keep your chin up, lass. You’re depressing the holy feck out o’ me.

  I’ll try, I told him, but only for your sake, O’ Great and Mighty Fox.

  Making a mock o’ me, are ya? Not wise considering I’ve saved your fangs more than once already.

  Me? Make a mockery of you? Never!

  I folded my arms on the table in front of me and rested my head, shutting my eyes to block out that dizzying flicker of firelight.

  I heard Renata emerge from the bath and turned my head to find her. She was dressed in an exquisite gown of blue velvet so dark it was almost black. I remained hunched over the table. The expression on her face turned quizzical and for some reason, I started laughing.

  Once I started, I found I couldn’t stop.

  She continued to stare at me, and the longer she stared, the harder I laughed. “Epiphany?” she asked. “Are you drunk?”

  I buried my face in my crossed arms again and laughed, really not certain what was so funny, but finding the fact that I was laughing over essentially nothing rather amusing.

  Renata took the empty glass from me gently, as if afraid I’d protest her taking it. “Perhaps next time you should drink Iliaria’s blood more slowly.”

  “Aye,” I slurred, watching her set the glass on a dresser nearby. I could feel myself swooning a bit. “I seem to have caught the googlies.”

  Renata paused, canting her head. “The what?”

  “The giggles.” I started laughing again, unable to stop. “Ah, the giggles!”

  Not so fortunately, my laughter had woken Iliaria. She emerged from the other room appearing none-too-pleased with me.

  I bit my bottom lip and tried with everything in me not to start laughing again. If I did, I wouldn’t stop. Her staring so intently at me did not help my inner battle.

  “My, my, you don’t look happy,” I said.

  I made a choking sound as I tried to catch the laugh that threatened to slip out. I shut my eyes tightly, as if it would help to keep the laughter from bubbling up again.

  I saw Cuinn, and something about the fox Fata being stuck in my head became the most hilarious thing in the world. I could no longer contain it. I fell back on the bed, laughing.

  I heard Iliaria ask above my laughter, “What the devil has gotten into her?”

  “Your blood, Dracule. It’s made her drunk.”

  “The moon will rise soon,” Iliaria said. “We cannot take her to Bull Shoals like this.”

  “It should wear off before then,” Renata replied smoothly, then added a bit uncertainly, “I hope.”

  “Bull Shoals?” I asked, gasping. “What kind of bloody name is that? It sounds like bullshit!”

  “Epiphany,” Renata said and her tone was firm and serious as if she were trying to reprimand a restless child.

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “Hush.”

  “I apologize, my lady, but…” I thrust my arm in Iliaria’s direction, pointing a finger at her. “It’s her fault, you see. She’s the one that felt bad about sticking a finger in my arse and decided to share her blood.”

  “Epiphany,” Renata tried again. “If you do not lower your voice, I will gag you.”

  I growled but did as requested. I shut my mouth and crossed my arms under my breasts, not at all thrilled with the command.

  “She has drunk my blood before and this has not happened.”

  “She has sipped your blood before, Dracule,” Renata said. “This is apparently what happens when one decides to drink it at a gulp.”

  “Gulp,” I said. “Such a strange word…”

  Renata turned her back on me and opened one of the armoire’s drawers.

  I sat up. “My lady?”

  She stopped beside the bed and said, “Epiphany, open.”

  “Open what, exactly?” I inclined with a whisper. “Open…sesame?”

  Renata raised a black velvet sash between us and I frowned at her.

  “You really believe she will listen to you when she’s in this state?” Iliaria asked.

  “Epiphany,” Renata said, her voice making my name a dangerous purr.

  I opened my mouth.

  To her credit, she was gentle when she tied the sash in a knot at the back of my head. Gentle or no, having a mouthful of cloth like some kind of horse with a bridle was not comfortable or on my top lists of favorite things.

  Renata grabbed the material stretched over my cheek and used it to raise my gaze to hers. “You are not to remove this until I bid you do so. Understood?”

  With some reluctance, I nodded.

  “Good girl.”

  I fell back against the pillows with a heavy sigh, feeling irritable and not in the least amused.

  Renata and Iliaria left me to myself. Renata pulled the door to the sitting room closed behind her, though I could hear her voice faintly when she addressed Anatharic. No doubt, they would discuss the coming visit to the clan of Bull Shoals.

  Nude, alone, and gagged, I entertained myself by watching the dance of candlelight. I stared at it for a long while, and most likely due to the effects of Iliaria’s blood, I found it no longer made me dizzy, but that I was quite enchanted with it. The flame moved like a woman dancing sensuously, throwing her arms out and sending shadows of the canopy’s posts to writhe on the wall.

  Renata had not bound my hands. I could have very well removed the cloth tied about my head, but even in my dull state of intoxication, I would not disobey a direct order.

  If I removed it, she would know and would only find something less pleasing for me to endure.

  Lover or not, she was still my queen.

  Cuinn was silent, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I raised my wrist, tracing the black curling lines of Iliaria’s mark. She had told me when she had given me her mark that I could use the sigil to summon her. I wondered how it worked. I thought of her and the sigil tingled with warmth.

  I whispered her name in my mind and the sigil tingled even more fiercely, as if tiny ants were crawling from the black lines and out over my skin. I resisted the urge to drag my nails over the mark.

  “Epiphany,” her voice called from the other room, “stop it.”

  Satisfied to have figured out exactly how it
worked, I set about finding suitable attire for the excursion to Bull Shoals. I considered wearing a gown, as many of the clan rulers were old enough to remember when the notion of a woman wearing leggings or trousers was unheard of and unladylike. But in the end, I decided against it.

  I was far more comfortable in the pants. I tugged on a pair of black velour leggings and slipped a white camisole over my head. It took longer than I expected to find a shirt that was both elegant enough to pull off in court and yet comfortable enough to fight in, should it come to that.

  I threw the olive green top over my head, tying the laces at my elbows and collar into bows. The sleeves spilled out from my elbows and I moved my arms in a sweeping motion, confirming that they were not too wide to get in my way and not too tight to constrict my movements.

  I found a pair of stockings and boots and sat on the stool in front of Renata’s mirror. It wasn’t until I saw my reflection that I realized my hair was a wild, frizzy mane. I picked up Renata’s brush and frowned, unable to figure out any way of brushing around the cloth she’d set about my bloody head.

  “Cara mia.”

  I hadn’t heard Renata enter. She took the brush from my hand and placed it on the table. She loosened the knot at the back of my head and set the thick strip of cloth alongside the brush.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  Renata opened a small jar and scooped out an apple-scented pomade. She spread a thin sheen of the ointment throughout my hair, taming it and making the curls appear shiny and smooth. She pulled my hair back into her hands, tying the tail of curls off with a black ribbon.

  “There,” she said, admiring her work with a measure of satisfaction. “Perfetto. Rise,” she added.

  I stood and turned in a slow circle.

  “Suitable,” she said. “Practical. It will do.”

  “Thank you, my lady.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “It would be more appropriate for you to wear a dress.”

  “I will if that’s what you want.”

  She shook her head, the waves of her hair reflecting blue highlights. “No.” She placed her hand at the small of my back, sliding it downward over my rear. “I prefer this. It pleases me.” Her lips brushed the curve of my ear and I shivered for her. “It has the added advantage of being highly distracting.”

  “A distraction to you, my lady, or to others?”

  She slipped behind me and her arm snaked around my waist as she pulled me back against her and turned us to face the mirror.

  “Both.” Her breath was warm against my neck. “Do not play too coy or too bold tonight, cara mia.”

  “What shall I play, my lady?”

  “Quietly confident,” she murmured the words against my skin as her mouth traced a path across my shoulder.

  “As you will.”

  “The moon rises, dolce mia. Shall we?”

  She offered the crook of her arm and I took it, resting my hand at the bend of her elbow.

  The tension of daylight lifted as the moon rose over the land above the Sotto. I did not need to see it to know it. Every vampire feels the weight of sunlight and the lifting of it when darkness crawls over the land. It is a survival instinct. Even while I wore the Stone of Shadows, Iliaria’s ring, I could feel its weight lift and fall beyond the shield of magic.

  “It is time,” Iliaria said from the doorway.

  Renata nodded. “Dominique.”

  Dominique suddenly stood in the doorway that led to the outer halls of the Sotto.

  “Yes, Padrona?”

  “Summon Vasco and Nirena.”

  He bobbed more than bowed. “As you wish, my queen.”

  We waited in the sitting room while Dominique summoned Vasco and Nirena. Anatharic was still in his Draculian form. His bottomless eyes followed me unnervingly when I sat down.

  After a few moments, I realized he was watching me intensely as I took my seat. Whatever thoughts he had whilst he stared, I really didn’t care to know.

  *

  Dominique wanted to go with us.

  “My lady,” he said, trying to persuade Renata, “they took my brother. They attacked me. Should I not travel with you so the King of Bull Shoals can hear the recollection of the events from my own mouth?”

  “Could I, I would take you, Dominique.”

  “My lady,” Dominique pleaded.

  “It is not my decision, Dominique. The Dracule can only carry so many of us. We are traveling light.”

  “If we carry them together,” Anatharic said, “we could carry him with usss.”

  Iliaria held the map in her hands. She rolled it in a practiced move and tucked it into a pocket of her coat. “We can make it work, Anatharic.”

  “We will have to climb from the bottom.”

  Iliaria nodded. “Yes.”

  “Climb?” Renata asked.

  The two Dracule shared a look and Renata eyed them both with some suspicion.

  “You’ve already investigated the entrance to their clan?”

  “Yes. Anatharic did while I was resting. It seemed unproductive to have us both guarding the room when we needn’t go in blind.”

  “I can go?” Dominique asked.

  “Yes. Vito and Vittoria are aware of their duties while I am gone. Severiano will hold my throne. They do not need you here, Dominique.”

  I felt Dominique’s relief, though he did not outwardly show it. He had been Renata’s guard since long before I was born. It made sense that he didn’t want to leave her side, especially when we had no idea how the King of Bull Shoals would react to our visit.

  Anatharic and Iliaria told us to stand in a circle and link hands.

  It was a great deal different traveling in such a way, despite the fact that the only experience of their travel that I had was when Anatharic had protected me in the hall. I held Iliaria’s hand and felt the steady pull of her magic, felt it merging with Anatharic’s and circling us like a small storm.

  The spinning sensation stopped abruptly and my feet found solid ground, though my insides felt as if they were still spinning dizzily with the rush. Wind touched my face, blowing curls of my hair loose from the ribbon.

  The murmur of water lapped at rocks below us and the dark sky above was speckled with stars. A sliver of moonlight reflected off the black water nearby, and a pang of longing gripped me.

  Centuries. It had been centuries since I had felt the wind, since I had seen the night sky, the stars, the moon. I couldn’t remember the air ever smelling so good, so sweet, so…natural.

  I stepped away from Iliaria and Renata and touched the side of the rocky cliff, feeling the jagged stone slide smooth and sharp against my palm.

  “It has been longer for us, colombina.” Vasco’s hand rested on my shoulder, calling my attention back to him and the others.

  “I cannot remember the world ever seeming so alive, Vasco.”

  “Sì,” he said, “you have never seen it with your senses. It is something mortals take for granted.”

  A bird called from somewhere high up in the trees, seeming closer than it really was. I turned my attention away from the lake and to the woodlands that surrounded us. I hadn’t realized I’d taken a step toward the sound until Renata called me back.

  “Epiphany,” her voice was gentle. “We have other matters to attend to, dolce mia.”

  “Anatharic and I will carry you each to the opening, one at a time,” Iliaria said.

  “Why not teleport?” I asked.

  “It isss easssier to climb,” Anatharic said.

  Nirena shrugged. “I will go first.”

  “And I,” Dominique said.

  Iliaria and Anatharic went to the base of the cliff. Nirena and Dominique mirrored each other, looping their arms about the Dracules’ necks as they clambered onto their backs.

  I had never seen the Dracule climb. They were quick and agile. Anatharic in his more animal form was quicker than Iliaria, as he used his claws to puncture the stone, where
Iliaria used her hands and the spurs of her wings to get the grip she sought.

  They ascended the mountain until they were nearly specks in my vision.

  Something heavy and solid landed on the ground beside me and I jumped. Iliaria laughed, rising from her kneeling position with her wings stretched out behind her. Anatharic followed, using his wings to cup the air as he landed.

  “Can you fly?” I asked. “Truly?”

  Iliaria grinned widely. “Would you like to find out?”

  Renata and I were next. Iliaria positioned herself against the wall and ducked so that I was able to loop my arms about her neck.

  She climbed, her movements smooth and sure and without hesitation. She slipped once, and growled. Her tail jerked to the side, aiding her upward swing as she reached for a handhold. The spur of her wing bit the stone and aided her in regaining her footing.

  “It is not as easy as it looks,” she grumbled. I wasn’t sure if it was a statement or an apology of sorts.

  “I imagine not, especially when you’re carrying someone on your back. Should I hang more loosely?”

  “You are fine,” she said. Though the line of my body pressed tightly against her back, she seemed to have no trouble maneuvering her wings around me.

  We made it to the mouth of the cave and I realized why they could not teleport with us. The walkway leading into the cave was too narrow and we had to form a line simply to stand. An invisible pressure pushed against my skin.

  Magic, Cuinn said, to ward off humans. Any human that comes near the cave entrance shall not see it or pass through it.

  What would happen if they were to try?

  They would not, he said calmly, the magic itself is a deterrent spell. They’d feel an unease so tight in the pit of their bellies they wouldn’t want to. It’s a spell the Stregha learned from the Fatas, to remain unseen and unfound.

  I peered into the cave, trying to see further, when Iliaria said, “I’ll get him.”

  I turned just in time to see her dive over the cliffside. I rushed toward it and Renata caught me by the wrist, assuring that I did not topple over.

  It is hard to describe the Dracule in motion, for they move quickly, even for a vampire’s sight. What I saw was Iliaria’s wings held close to her body in the dive and the clap of thunder when they opened, catching the wind, her feet touching the ground, barely.