Summoning Shadows: A Rosso Lussuria Vampire Novel

by Pennington, Winter

  How was it I still seemed to get strong feelings about others without the empathy? I hadn’t realized until I thought about it that I still relied on my senses, though they were not as acute as my power when I was a vampire.

  Was I leading myself falsely to believe that the vampire in the hall would truly aid me? I didn’t think so. His hatred for Damokles was too sincere and he had not bothered to conceal it. I thought of the vampiress behind the bars of her prison.

  The prisoners would be of little use to me unless they were fed, but how was I to feed them? There too, I couldn’t fathom how to feed them without getting caught. I passed by the slightly ajar door of the closet in my pacing and it occurred to me we didn’t have any new clothing with us. I sighed at the distracted thought.

  Mayhap, I was not as adept at conspiracy as I thought. Surely, if I were, I would have come up with a dazzling plan by now, or at least, a better and more passable one than I had.

  A hand clamped over my mouth as someone yanked me backward in a steel grip. Panic sang through my limbs as my pulse increased.

  “Ssshhh, don’t startle the entire keep by screaming.” The familiar voice behind me lilted with amusement.

  I jerked my arms up and peeled her hand off my mouth. “What the bleedin’ hell are you doing here?” I whispered. My heart hammered in my chest and I took slow breaths to calm down.

  Iliaria, garbed from shoulder to foot in her black and gold brocaded coat, smirked devilishly at my surprise. “You really didn’t think I’d simply let you go and walk in here alone, did you?”

  “You’re going to get yourssself killed!”

  “And you’re not?” Her perfect brows arched high.

  “How did you get in?”

  “Ah, that,” she said. “He’s not had his little witchlings spell the place to keep any of us from evanescing in and out.”

  “Where are the othersss?”

  “Near enough,” she said, then added in response to the look I gave her, “They’re not here, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Morina ssshould be here any moment,” I said.

  “Have you found her?” Iliaria asked, ignoring my comment and searching my features.

  “Yesss, ssshe’sss being held with othersss. Damoklesss hasss left them ssstarved and weak ssso they cannot fight or defend themssselves.”

  “How many rulers?”

  I tried to remember their silhouettes and to recount how many there had been. “Eight…nine…ten…” I shook my head. “I’m sssorry, I can’t remember.”

  “And what of the vampires?”

  I told her then of the vampires I had seen caged and how Damokles had starved them in order to weaken them. I knew their numbers were higher than those of the royal trophies Damokles kept. I also told her about my encounter with the vampire in the hallway.

  Iliaria didn’t seem to approve or disapprove. She weighed my words carefully, a frown forming across her pale forehead as she deliberated. “What do you plan to do if your vampire succeeds in recruiting others?”

  “I hadn’t thought that far,” I said, feeling a bit silly.

  Iliaria reached for me and drew me up against the line of her lean body. “Well, I have,” she said and pressed her lips against the fur of my forehead.

  “And?”

  “A coup, my dragă.” Her lips tickled my fur as she murmured against me. “You’ve already set the makings of it in motion. Await my word.” Her hand slid down the side of my body. “I will return to you when it is safe.”

  A sound came from the hallway beyond my door and I shifted my attention to it. I felt Iliaria step away from me, but when I looked back to find her, she was gone, leaving no trace that she had been standing in front of me seconds before.

  The door opened as Morina entered.

  “Were you talking to someone?” she asked as she closed the door behind her.

  “Myssself,” I said, knowing that we had kept our voices low enough that no one, not even a Dracule would have heard us unless they had their ear pressed to the door.

  Morina seemed satisfied with my answer, but cast me a warning glance. “Careful doing that here, Elpis.”

  “Elpisss?” I blinked, uncomprehending.

  “Pet only goes so far,” she explained, going to the closet. I heard her remove her boots. “Remember the name and get used to it.”

  “But why Elpisss?” I asked. “You couldn’t have come up with sssomething better than that?”

  Morina emerged barefooted. Her feet were silent on the stone as she set about unbuttoning her white blouse in front of me. “Because,” she said, “I like it.”

  I shrugged.

  “Haven’t read much Hesiod, have you?” Morina asked as she lifted the patch from over her eye and drew it back against her hair.

  “Apparently not,” I said, trying to understand and failing.

  “Pandora’s box.” She freed the last button on her blouse. The shirt gaped open from neck to stomach, revealing the smooth porcelain skin and soft swell of her breasts.

  I stared at a corner of the room.

  “Surely, you’ve heard of Pandora’s box?”

  “Yesss,” I said, trying to recount the story behind my lids and not the sight of Morina undressing. “The box wasss filled with all the plaguesss of the world, wasssn’t it?”

  “And the spirit Elpis, the personification of hope.”

  Though she said little in the way of explanation, the thread of kindness in her voice made me look at her, only to find that Morina had turned her nude back to me and disappeared into the closet to retrieve something else.

  Hope. Why had she seen fit to give me such a title? Did it bear personal significance, or was it simply reflective of the task I undertook to free my queen and the vampires Damokles sought to use?

  I was still wondering when Morina emerged from the closet in a pair of billowing silk pants and a matching long-sleeved top.

  “Where did you get the clothes?” I asked a bit suspiciously.

  “If you haven’t noticed, we’re not the only females.” She cocked a brow at me. “Distrusting me so soon?”

  I lightly shook my head and let it go. The only clothes I had were the ones on my back, the pair of dark shorts and a lightweight tunic tailored to fit over my wings. The Draculian body wasn’t made for clothes, but that had not stopped Damokles’s Dracule from wearing lightweight cloaks or breeches to cover their private bits. Damokles himself wore a dark wrap around his hips to shield his groin.

  I slid into bed beneath the stiff sheets and blankets and tried to find a comfortable position. I wouldn’t risk changing into a more human form here, in case someone in Damokles’s keep recognized me.

  Given the width of the bed, there was little room between Morina and me, and even when I lay as straight as an arrow, I could feel her body inches from my own.

  In time, the tedium of my thoughts lulled me to sleep.

  *

  Morina and I broke our fast in the breakfast hall, dining among the other Dracule. Vampires scattered throughout the room, placing servings of meat on the plates before us. Morina and I ate in silence while the other Dracule around us whispered to each other in their curling tongues and hissing voices. I felt a body brush my arm as someone leaned forward to place a goblet next to my platter.

  The vampire I had spoken with in the hall gave me a blank and empty stare before he moved on down the table, placing a goblet before each of the Dracule.

  I ate the seared meat before me without worrying what I looked like. Considering most of the Dracule ate in much the same animalistic manner, it seemed only burdensome to try for any more grace than my form would allow.

  Morina raised her glass and brought it to her lips. She met my gaze wordlessly when she set it aside. I took a small swig and felt immediately sick to my stomach.

  Vampire blood. I recognized it by the strength of its metallic essence and would’ve wagered that this was how Damokles kept his vampires weak and under control.
He did not waste their blood; he bled them, weakened them, and shared their life’s essence with his Draculian horde. I took another sip and some of the blood dribbled into the fur down my chin.

  I observed the Dracule around me and wondered if Damokles had bled Renata to feed them? Somewhere down the row of tables, did one of his men drink my queen’s blood? I knew I didn’t, for I had tasted her blood so many times before I would’ve recognized it the instant it hit my tongue.

  A susurrus of rage hummed through me and I downed the blood in the goblet at a gulp, uncaring of the red lines that dripped from the edges of my mouth to stain my white fur.

  I hoped the vampire had done as he agreed. I hoped he had talked with others that despised the Dracule so that we could get our plan moving along. Iliaria wanted to stage a coup. I prayed we had enough vampires to pull it off.

  When we finished breaking our fast, Morina went her way and I went mine. I did not bother asking her questions about where she went, figuring that if she was going to betray me and cast me to Damokles’s traitorous hands, she would have already done so and if she decided to do so, what could I do to stop her? I wandered the halls aimlessly, with no clear destination in sight. I memorized the winding patterns and used the location of the torches and chambers to navigate and try to map the place out in my head.

  “You,” a woman’s voice called when I rounded a corner and passed by a sitting room. “You,” I heard the voice behind me as she scampered to catch up. “What are you doing?”

  I turned on my slightly bent legs and tilted my head to the side. The vampire who had stood beside Damokles’s throne eyed me with suspicion. The dark curls of her hair were clasped at the nape of her neck and she wore a gown of white and gold that made the green in her eyes less drab and more vibrant.

  Given her obvious loyalty to Damokles, I replied, “Nothing, lady.”

  She moved closer and tilted her head back slightly to look me in the face. I stared down at the vampire with what I felt was a perfectly neutral expression.

  “Something about you seems familiar, Dracule. Have we met before?” She extended her arm and traced a finger down the cloak of my wings.

  “No, lady. I’d remember if we had.” I blinked slowly.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, inclining as her nostrils flared slightly.

  “Yesss.”

  Another Dracule appeared in the hall.

  “Lucrezzzia.”

  She turned to him and they stared at one another while I tried to control my face. I wasn’t sure what I felt. I was surprised, but only a little. I had suspected Lucrezia had survived, I just hadn’t expected to come face to face with her and not recognize her. It had to be her, of that, I was sure. It certainly explained the unease that settled in my stomach around her. A different body or not, perhaps my own instincts had been trying to tell me all along.

  “What is it now?” she asked with familiar agitation.

  “Damoklesss wishesss to sssee you.”

  Lucrezia turned back to me with an inscrutable expression. “We’ll meet again, Dracule.”

  Carefully, I bowed my head until the sound of her slippers and skirts slithering across the stone floor disappeared back through the doorway and she was out of sight.

  Somehow, Damokles has used the witches in this, I thought, certain that it was the only way Lucrezia could’ve survived execution. I had seen Renata pierce her heart and lop her head off myself. I remembered Dante when they had brought him back to the clan, the X cut across his chest, the same target the sadistic bitch had carved into my back years ago. His broken mind…

  How had she retained her power? How had she broken Dante’s mind in her new body? The Kiss of Madness had been one of Lucrezia’s powers when she had been among the Rosso Lussuria. I could grasp that a witch might have somehow used a spell to transfer her spirit to a new body, but her powers with it? How was that possible? Were our powers tied to our spirits? Why hadn’t I seen any of Damokles’s witches lurking about?

  I continued my investigation of the lair, my thoughts heavier than they had been in days. My mind was boggled with ideas, none of which were helpful and all of which only led me to asking myself more and more questions.

  For instance, why hadn’t I seen any of the Rosso Lussuria vampires? If Damokles was taking our queens and kings and using them to manipulate us, why hadn’t he managed to take the Rosso?

  Queen Helamina and King Augusten. It was the only logical explanation. In order for him to gain the Rosso, he had to gain our ally rulers as well, and he didn’t stand a chance attacking three clans at once. That must be why he was biding his time…

  I traversed the dark and narrow hall, preferring to keep to the shadows and move as quietly as I could. A good thing, I reckoned, as I didn’t want to call another’s attention as I had Lucrezia’s.

  I passed by a line of doors when I heard voices come from the third on the right.

  “You said she was mine,” Lucrezia said, obviously displeased and upset.

  “Ssshe isss yoursss when I am ready to give her to you,” Damokles hissed in a voice that held matching heat.

  “You can’t even get your hands on the Rosso Lussuria. They’re too heavily guarded for you, Damokles. They’ve outsmarted you by forming alliances. You can’t even break their queen. What do you think you’re going to do with the whole clan?”

  Damokles slammed something down with a heavy bang. “Sssilence! I told you, vampire, your ssstay in that body can be temporary. Do not tempt me.”

  “I can break her,” Lucrezia said eagerly. “I can break her and make her a puppet for your hands. Why will you not give me the chance to prove myself to you, to our cause, Damokles?”

  There was the sound then of someone’s breath being squeezed out of them, followed by Damokles’s slithering tongue. “When I give an order, you obey, vampire. Do you understand?”

  There was no response save for the sound of a table’s legs as it scraped across the stone floor. And then, “Yes.”

  At the sound of approaching feet, I moved quietly as I backed myself further in the cloak of shadows. Lucrezia emerged from the room, her shoulders high as she stomped off in the opposite direction.

  I retreated from the hall before Damokles or anyone else emerged to catch me eavesdropping.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “You do not speak much to me,” Morina said pensively from where she sat in the leather armchair tucked against the wall.

  Her comment caught me relatively unaware, as I hadn’t expected that she’d been paying any attention to me. I finished folding the quilt down toward the foot of the bed. With a pelt of fur, the quilt was too heavy to sleep with most nights, and thus I preferred sleeping with only the sheet. If it hadn’t been for comfort’s sake, I would’ve slept without the sheet too, but I enjoyed the small sense of security it provided.

  I raised my head. “You do not ssspeak much to me, either.”

  Another bout of silence stretched between us and I peeled off the lightweight tunic I wore. I didn’t bother to remove the shorts that Iliaria had given me. Fur or no, I wasn’t eager to sleep in the Draculian equivalent of nude. And I couldn’t bring myself to take fresh clothing from the closet.

  Her statement was true. It seemed that when we did speak to one another, our conversations were always brief. If I asked her a question, Morina answered it in as few words as possible. I released a sigh. How was it I was able to discern more about complete strangers than I was about the woman who slept in the same bed? Around the others, she played the role of my lover convincingly, going so far as to offer affectionate touches that implied there was more than there really was between us. But when we were alone, she was succinct in speech and guarded in her mannerisms. That same detached demeanor she had presented to me when she had taken me as her prisoner came tumbling down as she barricaded her real self.

  I slid beneath the sheet without pressing her, though I spared a glance to find she had set aside the book of Draculian verses s
he had been reading. She leaned forward in her chair and gazed at nothing in particular.

  If she wanted to talk, I told myself, she would. I must admit, a part of me found it exasperating the way she attempted to strike conversation by making an idle comment, only to let it die off again.

  I felt the mattress dip beneath her weight when she climbed in beside me. Darkness unfolded as she extinguished the bedside lantern. The heavy silence between us pressed against my chest and made it feel tight.

  What did she want from me? I couldn’t discern it. If she disliked me so, why did she offer to be my escort? Why did she swear on her life to protect mine after everything she’d done to me in her pursuit of vengeance? Did she only offer her aid because she finally realized Andrella’s death was Damokles’s doing and then only to get even with him? Or because she was so desperate to see Andrella just one more time?

  I found myself drowning in the well of my emotions. I longed for Renata and Iliaria, to be nestled sweetly between them, to feel the line of their tall bodies against mine and their arms around me again. How was it that I felt more alone with Morina than I would have without her?

  I choked back a sob, shut my eyes tightly, and buried my face in my pillow. I would not cry, not over this, not over Morina’s mind games.

  Her words were soft beside me. “I do not know how to talk to you.”

  “You do well enough around the othersss.”

  “That is different.”

  “I know,” I said bitterly. “It’sss jussst pretend.”

  “No,” she said, “it’s more than that.”

  I raised enough to find her pale outline in the dark. She’d removed the patch from her eye and left it on the bedside table. “Then what isss it?”

  “I don’t know,” she said and it seemed to me that she did know. She just evaded telling me the truth.

  I rolled back onto my side, intent on ignoring her.