Summoning Shadows: A Rosso Lussuria Vampire Novel

by Pennington, Winter

  “And what are you?”

  She’s a White Lady, Piph.

  “What is that, Cuinn? A ghost?”

  Yea and nay, he said. A White Lady is the spirit of a Fata witch that will not rest. The tragedy that befell this place has forever tied her to it, to protect it and its inhabitants.

  “Like a banshee?” I asked him.

  Aye, similar to a banshee.

  I wanted to ask more questions, but the White Lady spoke before I could begin.

  She looked so sad when she spoke. “She was not always as she seems, vampire. Perhaps you can help her…”

  Her image wavered in my vision. “Wait,” I said. “How?”

  Come on, Piph. Time to go.

  “But wait!”

  I woke with a start, bolting upright in the chambers I had been using as my own. A fire danced in the fireplace, sending crooked shadows to writhe and stretch against the stone walls.

  My wits were scrambled. I was no longer certain what was real and what wasn’t. Surely, I hadn’t dreamed that Morina had forced me to abase myself before her and that a spirit of a witch from the past had presented herself to me. I was a vampire. I didn’t have dreams.

  I touched my hand to my chest to clutch the collar of my gown, but instead of the exquisite gown King Augusten had given to me, my fingers brushed a spill of lace.

  A rush of adrenaline sang through me and I clambered out of bed. The gown swung around my legs and fell in a sheet of white past my ankles.

  Cuinn, I thought, the voice in my head conveying my panic and uncertainty.

  The door to my chambers opened as Morina admitted herself. In her right hand, she carried the gold and ruby chalice that contained her blood.

  Cuinn didn’t respond. Morina took one look at me and the expressionless mask she usually wore slipped as her features contorted, first in pain, and then in fury. The chalice fell from her hand and clinked across the floor, her blood pooling on the cold stone.

  Morina crept toward me, slowly enough that I could visually keep track of her for once. “Where did you get that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She continued to cross the room, making her way around the bed to get to me. If I thought I could have outrun her, I would have. But she was Dracule, and if I tried to run, she would catch me.

  When she was close enough to touch me, Morina grabbed my elbow and jerked me to her. I put a hand up, catching her shoulder.

  “Where did you get that?” In the heat of her fury, her voice was beginning to rise again.

  “I…I don’t know!” I stammered, my heart pounding a warning that something terrible was about to happen.

  She jerked me again, pulling a muscle in my shoulder that made me cry out in pain. I tried to draw away from her, and her grip only tightened considerably.

  “You’ve been snooping around,” she growled. “Where did you find that? I didn’t tell you you could wear anything you wanted to. I left clothes for you. Where are they?”

  I didn’t know, and in the face of her fury, propelled by my own fear, I fought and struggled against her. I tried to break her hold on me, and every inch I gained, Morina caught me again, her grip even harsher and more bruising than the last as I tried to fight her off with my arms.

  She gripped me by both elbows and tugged to pull me to her.

  I don’t know what came over me. The only thing I could think was that I did not want her to pull me any closer to her, and when she made to do so, I lost it. I fought her hold like a wild animal, no longer concerned with being hurt if I struggled against her. I sought one thing and one thing only: to get away.

  I kicked and wriggled wildly. Any part of her body that I could hit or kick, I did. I didn’t care how angry it made her. I knew I had to get away. During the struggle, Morina lost her grip on my elbows. In the back of my mind, I knew Cuinn had jumped to his feet. As soon as my arms were free, I felt it in my hand, the old familiar reliable steel of the fox blade.

  The blade blazed to life nearly as bright as the fire burning in the room. It glowed with a light of its own, casting its own shadows along the walls.

  Morina growled, low and deep, a rumble that felt as though it made the very walls tremble.

  Cuinn yelped, RUN, NOW!

  I did. I ran for the door, and as soon as I made it to it, I felt Morina behind me. I turned, raising my arms above my head and sweeping the fox blade down through the air at an arc. Morina jumped back from the blade and I hit the stairs, taking two and three at a time.

  I opened the door at the end of the stairs and ran into the night. The grass crunched and pricked sharp under my bare feet and I ignored it as the blood thundered in my head. The white gown tangled around my legs and I grabbed a handful of it, using every ounce of strength and speed that I could to try to outrun a Dracule.

  I didn’t get very far. Morina hit me from behind and her weight took me down at the edge of the trees. She grabbed my wrist and jerked my arm, disarming me and sending the fox blade out of my reach.

  “I told you not to leave the walls of the castle,” she said, pushing my arms up behind my back. “Do you really think you can survive out here on your own? Do you really think you can survive without me?”

  “It was a chance I was willing to take.”

  “Foolish girl,” she growled, her mouth uncomfortably close to my ear. “No matter where you go, no matter how far you run, I will find you.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  Morina yanked me to my feet without answering. She kept her steely grip on my arms and steered me back toward the castle. For the first time, I got a good view of it. It was a small keep, secluded, surrounded by land and trees. The outside was as dreary and unkempt as the inside; a blanket of ivy climbed one side of the stone wall, and I wasn’t sure if the ivy was protecting it or trying to pull the rocks into ruin.

  Morina shoved me. “Go.”

  I thought about the fox blade, but knew she wouldn’t stop to retrieve it. It didn’t matter. Wherever I went, so too did the sword. It was part of Cuinn’s magic. It would find me again, when I needed it. That, even Morina couldn’t stop.

  Morina guided me back through the castle. When I hesitated to move as she bid me to, she pulled my arms up higher behind my back until the pain forced me to oblige. She led me down a long hall and past another sitting room. The room was aglow with a single lamp that had been lit and placed atop a table beside a long sofa.

  “So this is where you’ve been hiding, my captor,” I said.

  Morina pushed me again and I stumbled. Only her grip on my arms kept me upright. The sitting room led to another hallway, one danker and darker than the rest. She continued to guide me through it. At the end of the hall, the stone beneath my feet slanted downward, until I realized she was leading me to a place beneath the castle itself.

  Down and down we went, making our descent into the dark belly of the castle. Strangely, I wasn’t afraid. A certain helplessness came over me, and with it, a measure of surrender.

  “I’m reminded of a story the Sumerians tell,” I said. When Morina did not silence me, I continued. “Perhaps you have heard it? The Descent of Inanna. It is the story of the Goddess’s journey into the Underworld and of her sister, Ereshkigal. Seven things she carried on her person, each representing her power. At each of the seven doors, she was stripped of something precious to her, her crown, her ring, her measuring rod, her garments—”

  “Queen of Heaven,” Morina snorted. “Haughty and arrogant.”

  I wasn’t sure if she was talking about me or Inanna. “If Inanna was haughty and arrogant, why would she have abandoned her temples, her wealth, and her status to make the descent into the Great Below in the first place?”

  “What you forget, vampire, is that Inanna attempted to enter with her wealth and her status. It was her sister who forced her to enter the Underworld in nothing but her own skin. It was her sister who stripped her of those things and forced her to bow low. Comparing yourself to Ina
nna does not put you in my good graces.” She shoved me again, as we had both come to a halt. “Now, move.”

  “I am not comparing myself to Inanna,” I said, “not really.”

  “Then what do you hope to achieve by telling your little story, vampire?”

  “I’m comparing you to Ereshkigal. You may strip me of everything I know and everything I own. You may tear this gown from my body, but there is one thing you can never ever take from me, Morina.”

  “And what is that, vampire?” she asked, sounding perversely amused.

  “My self-respect,” I said. “Inanna allowed Ereshkigal to strip her of material things, for she knew it was the only way to descend into her sister’s kingdom,” I said. “And you seem to forget that slaying Inanna was not easy for Ereshkigal. It has always seemed to me that the two were bound. Ereshkigal grieved when the judges of the Underworld ordered her to execute Inanna. For three days, Inanna’s corpse hung from a hook in the Great Below, and during that time, Ereshkigal howled in endless pain. You have bound us, Great Siren. I walk into your Underworld knowing that we are one and the same now.”

  Morina growled and turned me, gripping both my wrists in one of her hands as she opened a door at the base of the hall. She shoved me through it and into a private dungeon, but she did not release me. She guided me toward the back wall. I had time to glimpse the shackles hanging there before she spun me around to face her.

  “Then,” she said, her breath moist against my cheek, “shall I do this properly?”

  She grabbed a handful of white lace at the front of the gown and tore. The cloth hissed, giving way to her strength as if she tore paper. Strip by strip, she peeled the gown from my body, leaving my skin naked and bare to the dank air. When she raised that one crimson eye to look at me, I did not cower.

  “And so, I am brought low, once again. Does it please you, my captor, my sweet Ereshkigal?”

  Morina kept that one eye focused on my face, pieces of the gown fallen like ruined petals at my feet. She took my wrists in her hands, and when she raised them, I didn’t struggle. The line of her body pressed against mine as she shackled me. The first shackle clicked shut, hard and uncomfortable against my skin.

  “Stop talking to me like that.”

  “Does it displease you so, Great Siren, to be spoken to with such respect?”

  Morina growled but ignored my mocking. She reached up to shackle my other wrist, and the movement put the skin of her collarbone close to my face.

  Oddly encouraged, I inhaled deeply and the scent of her hit me like leather and night blooming jasmine.

  Morina pressed my wrist into the rough stone and went stock-still. I turned my face into the bend of her neck and though I did not touch her, I could feel the ghostly beat of her pulse against my lips.

  “What are you doing?” she asked and her voice was still a growl, but a breathy one. I wiggled against the wall and as if it was nothing more than reflex to her, Morina pressed her hips to my naked stomach in effort to pin me and keep me from moving. If she meant to abate my wriggling, it did not stop me entirely. She put her weight on my wrist until a jagged stone bit into my skin and I felt the first trickle of blood.

  Morina’s breath against my hair came short and clipped. Her sex stiffened against me. A thread of desire unwound between us. I wasn’t sure if it was her desire or mine that I felt. In some part of me, some distant part unrelated to empathy, I felt mildly appalled that my body reacted so strongly.

  But in another part of me, a part of me that seemed much closer to the surface, that unraveling thread sent all other thoughts floating away like a leaf in a flood.

  I kissed her neck lightly, and her entire body strung rigid in resistance. I tried to slip my hand from between her grip and the wall, but she didn’t budge. I rested my head against the wall, though my lips ached to kiss her. If I had thought she would not withdraw, I would have. But I knew whatever was happening, it was a delicate dance and I had to tread cautiously.

  Morina’s eye was closed, and even in the dark, the patch was a striking contrast against her skin. Her features around the patch were tightly drawn, as if in pain. Her lips pressed together and a muscle in her jaw twitched.

  I shifted my hips, making my stomach move against her again, and this time, a shudder went through her. Her eye opened, and she quickly shut the last shackle about my wrist.

  “Clever,” she breathed against my cheek, “but not clever enough. I’ll not be seduced, vampire.”

  “You chose me for a reason, Morina.”

  I could still feel her arousal against my belly. “I chose you because you are her lover.”

  “No,” I said. “Not just that. You chose me because I remind you of yours.”

  Morina hissed and pulled away from me. When I blinked, she was gone and the lock on the cell door clicked shut behind her.

  You’re playing a dangerous hand, Piph.

  I’m playing the only one I have.

  Chapter Eleven

  A merry tune woke me from my slumber. I pushed aside the covers and retrieved my slippers and shawl, guided by the sound as I made my way down the staircase. My brother Tristain sat on the floor near the fireplace playing a small stringed instrument that had been my gift to him for his natal day. He fumbled, plucking the wrong note, and attempted to recover from his mishap by singing a bawdy song over it. Our family encouraged him, yelling out suggestions, clicking their tongues, and slapping their knees in a din of revelry.

  “Well!” Tristain stopped playing when he caught sight of me on the last steps of the stairs. “There’s the sleeping beauty now! Planned to sleep the day away, did you?”

  “With all this racket? Hardly.” I smiled sleepily before I went to the window to peer outside.

  “Your beast’s not yet come, dear sister. We’ve seen neither hide nor hair of him.”

  Him, they thought. And why not? It was far easier for them to believe that the creature I was bedding was a man, at the least. Thankful though they were when the Dracule had come, they were more grateful they weren’t the ones in my position.

  “Honestly, Andrella,” my sister said, “you seem to have grown an unusual fondness for the thing.”

  “Hush, child.” My mother scolded her. She took me by the hand and led me from the room. “Do not listen to her,” she said. “She is young and stupid. She doesn’t know what you have sacrificed to protect your family, Andrella.” Her features were drawn in sympathy. She patted my hand, as if trying to console me.

  “You really don’t understand, do you, Mother?”

  “What do you mean, Andrella?”

  “It’s not so great a sacrifice,” I said, taking my hand away from hers when we made it to Father’s study. “I never intended to marry, not as Camilla does. And the beast you deem so monstrous, is not a monster at all to me.”

  “You’re delusional, child. Do you hear what you’re saying?”

  “Yes, Mother. I know what I’m saying, and no, I haven’t lost my mind. I’ve never been like you, like any of you.” This time, it was I who took her hands. I cradled them between us. “I’m leaving, Mother.”

  “With the beast?” She looked at me in horror and shock.

  I sighed. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy. I love you dearly, but I cannot stay here.”

  I would pack and be ready tonight, and when Morina came, I would ask her to take me away. I had been thinking of it for weeks and now, after so much thought, I had steeled myself against the nerves and inevitable protest of my family.

  I remembered her in the gardens, her skin reflecting the moonlight. Her eyes like beautiful red roses with black veins. I had never expected it to happen. I had never anticipated falling in love with her. Now, when I thought of her, I remembered that night in the gardens and it felt as though my heart would burst.

  I had known then, after we had made love under the blanket of stars, that I felt the stirring of love in my breast.

  “You’re mad.”

  “No,�
�� I said. “I’m in love.”

  I embraced my mother briefly. “I am sorry, Mama, but this is what I want. This is the way it must be.”

  She scowled and did not return my embrace.

  I shook my head sadly. They had never understood, nor would they ever. I was nothing more than a tool, an instrument, no different than the one Tristain played.

  I left to pack my things.

  “Tristain!” My mother’s voice called from study. “Tristain!”

  My brother’s large frame appeared in the hallway before I could reach the staircase.

  “She’s mad, Tristain!” I heard my mother’s hurried steps behind me as she called my brother. “Tristain, she is going to leave us! She is going to leave us for that thing!”

  “You must be jesting?” he asked.

  “Step aside, Tristain.”

  He did not.

  “I said step aside.” I raised my hand, the power unfurling from within me. The sconces in the hallway extinguished.

  “No, sister.”

  I drew my hand back, feeling the magic pool in the center of my palm like warm honey. I flung it outward toward Tristain, and something heavy hit the back of my head, sending the world rolling in darkness.

  *

  I jolted back to myself in my cell. The shackles clanged above me and I cried out as they bit into my wrists. I felt as if I were losing my mind.

  “Andrella,” I whispered, recalling the dream. Though I knew it wasn’t a dream, of course.

  “Vampires do not dream.”

  Movement in the corner of the cell caught my attention. The same woman I had seen some nights ago stepped away from the wall. Again, she was garbed in a gown of flowing white.

  “Am I in vision again?” I asked.

  “Yes. In a manner.”

  “Where’s Cuinn?”

  Down here. Where the hell else would I be?

  Cuinn moved, and I felt the weight of his fur against my bare feet.

  I kicked him lightly, and he grumbled.