by Skye Knizley
Aspen let go. “Yes. They wanted to take me back to the Faewild, but I’m not sure why. The Empress has put a price on my head, apparently.”
Raven arched an eyebrow. “Anything to do with the case we’re working on? Those looked like fae runes on the bullet Ming found.”
Aspen made a face, she hadn’t thought of that. Fae had been content to stay within the Faewild for the last five hundred years, but the rise of the Empress had changed their behavior drastically. They weren’t above murder if it furthered their ends, if Murphy had gotten in their way? But why hadn’t they used magik?
She shook her head. “I don’t know. An old Walther pistol is hardly the weapon of choice for a fae assassin. The runes could have been etched by anyone with a talent for fae magik.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences, Asp,” Raven said. She looked skeptical, and it annoyed Aspen.
“I’m not saying it’s a coincidence, I’m saying none of the fae I just fought killed Murphy. It’s possible there is a connection and I’m just not seeing yet,” she said.
Raven nodded and holstered her pistol. “Then we keep looking. Do I need to get you a protection detail?”
“No, thanks. I doubt there will be any more, and if there are we will handle them just like these. Come on, let’s get to the restaurant, I’m starving.”
Aspen kissed Raven’s cheek and started out of the alley. She paused at the end to look back. Raven was squatting beside one of the ash piles.
“Something wrong?” Aspen asked.
Raven straightened. “Just taking a look, Asp. You killed four, nice job.”
Aspen sighed. “I didn’t want to, I tried to get them to go away, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer. Kellen, the leader, said Titania would kill him if he didn’t bring back my heart.”
“Maybe I should get that protection, Asp,” Raven said. She looked both worried and angry, irate that someone would attack her lover and partner. It made Aspen feel warm inside that Raven loved her that much.
“I’m okay, I promise,” Aspen said. “But if you don’t feed me soon I’m going to get grouchy.”
Raven smiled and took her hand. “Dinner it is, then.”
Dinner passed in a rush of delicious food, better wine and the best company Aspen could ask for at one of her favorite restaurants. Dolce wasn’t the most popular Italian restaurant in the city, but the ambiance was something that appealed to her, from the classic checkered tablecloths to the wine bottle candle holders to the wandering minstrels, it spoke to her on some level and made her feel warm and fuzzy. Maybe it was because everyone always seemed so happy to be there. Fae were natural empaths, after all.
“It’s getting late,” Raven observed, taking another bite of coconut gelato.
Aspen took another spoonful of the creamy dessert and rolled it around her tongue. “Still time, unless court is earlier than usual?”
“No earlier. I’m just not sleeping well, sundown feels like midnight to me,” Raven said.
“I’m sorry, love,” Aspen said.
Raven’s nightmares had been getting worse, that was certain. Aspen wasn’t sleeping herself, Raven’s screams and thrashing woke her up several times a night. If it wasn’t for ginseng she would be dragging, too.
“Have you talked to the counselor at work?” she asked.
Raven shook her head. “No, not after the initial trauma visit. You know how I feel about shrinks.”
“I know, but maybe they can help you. You won’t talk to me, either,” Aspen said.
“What’s to say, Asp? I’m having nightmares, they’re just dreams,” Raven said.
Aspen leaned forward across the table. “Dreams that leave you sweaty, cold and screaming almost every night.”
She sat back and dug in her jacket pocket for a note from Dr. Kennicott, a psychologist for Section Thirteen. “The doctor is worried you have post traumatic stress. The only cure is to confront it head on.”
Raven shook her head. “I don’t have PTSD, Asp. They’re just dreams.” She tossed some cash on the table and set her wine glass on top. “You ready to go? We still have to get changed.”
Aspen sighed. Raven was the most stubborn woman she’d ever met. She never gave up, never surrendered and wouldn’t admit when she needed help. Aspen loved that her woman was so fierce and independent, but it was sometimes a chore to deal with when she knew Raven needed help and she couldn’t do anything.
“Yeah, I’m good. But I want to talk about this some more, honey,” she said.
Raven stood and started pulling on her jacket. “There is nothing to talk about, Asp. I don’t need a head shrinker, just a full night of sleep.”
Aspen gave up, for now. Raven was as hard-headed as they came, when she was done talking about something, she was done. It was no use trying to make her. Aspen put on her own jacket and followed Raven outside. It was still snowing and was, if anything, even colder. There was a scent to the air, as well. It wasn’t a bad scent, just familiar like a word on the tip of her tongue she couldn’t quite remember.
“Do you smell that?” she asked as they walked.
Raven sampled the air and shook her head. “I smell the guy ahead of us and want to beat him with that pipe, but that’s about it. What is it?”
Aspen shrugged. “I’m sure it’s nothing, just something I remember from my childhood, I guess.”
They reached the parked Jaguar and Raven unlocked it with her fob and opened the door for Aspen, who blushed and climbed inside. “Thank you, honey.”
Raven smiled and joined her a moment later. The engine rumbled to life and Aspen settled into her seat.
“I love you, you know,” Raven said quietly.
Aspen twisted in her seat and wiggled closer. “I know, I love you too.”
Raven’s kiss felt like lightning teasing across her lips and she moaned softly. No one had ever kissed her like that, and no one else ever would. Some of it was their vampire-familiar connection, but it was more than that. This was the purest of loves, and her body knew it. She folded into her love and kissed her harder, savoring the quiet moment.
When they parted, Raven sighed and looked dejected. “We may as well get this over with.”
“It isn’t so bad,” Aspen said, slithering back into her seat.
Raven made a face. “It’s trying. A bunch of idiots playing dress up, drinking blood and making secret plots is not what I call fun.”
Aspen smiled. “But you get to see me in my familiar outfit, the one your mom bought.”
To say the outfit was sexy was an understatement. It consisted of a leather corset, a matching skirt that could easily be mistaken for a belt and heels so high Aspen felt she needed pills for altitude sickness. It wasn’t something she would be caught dead in outside of Court, but it was better than what many of the newer familiars were forced to wear. Collars and pasties had recently come into vogue, and she’d vowed she would never wear a collar again, a vow Raven understood and agreed with.
Raven brightened a bit and put the car in gear. “The night is looking up.”
Aspen couldn’t help it. She giggled and leaned across the seat to kiss Raven again. There was always a bright side, as long as they were together.
Tempeste Manor, Outside Chicago, 9:00 p.m. Dec 22nd
Aspen squirmed in her seat and tugged on her skirt. It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable, she’d gotten used to the looks at Court and sort of liked the attention. Besides, if anyone tried anything they would be facing the Fürstin, and nobody wanted that. Though Raven tried to keep their relationship low key, she was also possessive and protective. It was sometimes annoying, but most of the time she appreciated that she was so loved and safe. No one, not even her own mother, had protected her as fiercely as Raven.
She smiled and looked at Raven beside her behind the wheel of the Jaguar. Raven had dressed in a
form-fitting corset, short leather jacket and leather pants that were almost leggings. They raced over her legs and vanished into knee high boots almost as impractical as the ones she herself was wearing.
Raven turned her head and winked before going back to the road ahead. From here the manor was visible, a gothic monstrosity lurking on a hill at the bottom of a shallow valley. A huge Victorian Christmas tree stood in the yard outside, decorated with all the coldness and love of deep space. It wasn’t a tree, it was art. Aspen hated it, but arguing with Valentina was like trying to converse with a cast iron pot: You got nowhere.
A few moments later they were out of the vehicle and inside the great hall of the Manor. The perfection fairy had been here, as well. Lights, Victorian tinsel and a variety of faerie dolls had been placed with the same precision and lack of emotion as a sniper taking the kill shot. Somehow, the perfection sucked all the life out of the holiday for Aspen, who preferred decorations to be placed in accordance with emotion and natural rhythm, a direct contradiction to the House Tempeste tradition. She understood why Raven had lacked any enthusiasm as they neared the holiday season. For her, the holidays were without love or family, simply traditions being upheld for their own sake. Aspen had vowed to make sure this holiday was different.
The crowd of vampires, outcasts and house-loyal lycans were already entering the ballroom by the time they arrived. Aspen could sense Raven’s impatience and she reached out to take her lover’s hand.
You with me, babe? she thought.
Raven smiled. I’m here. This is just the last place I want to be tonight.
I know. But it’s our turn. Sable and Thad have had Valentina’s back, but she needs us, Aspen replied.
With Raven missing and then in recovery from, well, being dead for seventy years, others in the family had taken up Fürstin duties. Now that she was back, she was needed.
Aspen followed Raven through the doors and into the grand ballroom, which had been converted to more a throne room than a place where parties and dances were held. The room had a high ceiling covered in bronze mirrors, pillars of black and white marble and floors that matched. Valentina’s throne sat in the middle of the room, a high-backed chair with wide arms and a foot stool most often used by suitors to show their devotion.
Scattered around the room were cocktail tables of black with red velvet clothes and bottles of warm Claret with crystal glasses. Serving staff, both male and female, waiting in the shadows of the black velvet drapes that hid the gilded windows that overlooked the lawn and Christmas tree. They were kept open during the day, closed at night in accordance with Valentina’s wishes.
Raven took a spot to the left of the throne, while Aspen stood behind and to Raven’s right as was the custom of the Totentanz. Familiars were not allowed at Court unless attending their owners. Though Raven didn’t consider her property, Aspen found it easier to obey the rules than cause unnecessary ripples. Everyone at Court knew who she was and what she could do, there was no need to draw unnecessary attention.
“Are you alright, love?” Raven asked in a soft voice.
Aspen smiled and kissed Raven’s fingers. “I am, Ray. Just thinking and trying to play the good familiar.”
Raven made a face. “You’re my wife, you don’t have to play by their stupid rules, Asp.”
“Sometimes bending is better than breaking, honey. Valentina needs our support, not more broken traditions. Not now,” Aspen replied quietly.
She knew Raven didn’t approve, it wasn’t like she did, either. But the Renegades were nipping at them from every angle, they’d lost dozens of vampires in the last six months as well as others loyal to the house. There were those who still believed that Lord Strohm would return and take the throne back. They preferred to see vampires at the top of the food chain instead of living in the shadows. The sad thing was, they seemed to be winning.
The crowd thinned and was seated, and a hush fell over the ballroom as Valentina entered from the door to her private chambers. Instead of her normal head to toe leather, she wore a costume of leather straps that wound from her knees to her neck, revealing tantalizing strips of flesh while hiding enough for modesty…at least what passed for modesty in the underworld. She wore boots with impossibly high heels and a cloak that trailed down her back as she moved.
Dominique walked behind her wearing a white gown that both displayed and covered her curves. Her feet were bare and her long blonde hair was gathered into plaits that hung to her waist.
They arrived at the throne and Valentina sat while Dominique knelt beside her on a soft cushion. Raven growled softly at that, and Aspen squeezed her hand.
She does it by choice, Raven, she thought.
It’s vampire bondage bullshit, Raven replied. That woman practically raised me and mother has her on her knees like some kind of kinky pet.
Aspen understood Raven’s feelings. Dominique was one of the kindest, gentlest people she’d ever met, a mother and provider to everyone any time of the day or night. Her position of servitude and deference didn’t feel right, but perhaps it was a necessary show of Valentina’s power in such a difficult time.
“Good evening, my cadre. Court is now in session, be about your business,” Valentina said. Her voice sounded stronger than Aspen had expected, the elder vampire was still suffering the effects of a magikal disease. They’d been able to stop the disease, but not cure the effects. Thad hoped to have a permanent solution before the year was out, but Valentina looked better than she had in the previous weeks. Had Thad found a cure? Surely Raven would have been told if her situation had improved.
In singles and in pairs vampires of the house approached to pay their respects and ask boons from Lady Valentina. Aspen listened patiently, filing some of the information away and discarding things that were purely vampire pipe dreams. It sounded as if Valentina was considering the expansion of Old Town, which would increase the number of preternatural businesses as well as widening the legal hunting grounds. Neither sounded like a good idea to her, but she wasn’t Mistress of the City. On the other hand, expanding might draw more loyal to the house into the city to help fight the Renegades, which seemed a likely reason for the change. Only time would tell.
The formal portion of Court came to an end and the various cliques of the house broke up into groups to discuss a variety of topics. Aspen cared about it even less than Raven did. She wasn’t there to gossip or discuss who was screwing who, she was there in her role as House Magus.
Damn…
Raven’s thought-voice interrupted her own train of thought. Aspen turned to see Francois Du Guerre enter with his entourage of overdressed flunkies. She thought they looked like rejects from an Anne Rice cosplay convention.
“Good evening Ravenel, Miss Aspen,” he said with a shallow bow.
“What are you doing here?” Raven asked in a tone just this side of civil.
Du Guerre’s smile froze. “Is that any way to speak with someone who saved your life?”
“You left us there to die, Francois. You went to safety when things looked tough and almost got Raven killed when she went looking for a body that wasn’t even there!” Aspen said.
Du Guerre glared at her. “I believe the Totentanz calls for your pet to be leashed, does it not?”
Raven’s eyes shifted from their normal emerald to a more dangerous hue and she stepped closer. “Say something else, Francois. Give me a reason to put a bullet in your skull.”
Du Guerre smiled. “So charming, my Ravenel. I didn’t come here to fight, I was simply paying my respects. I have business with your mother, if she has time.”
Valentina turned in her seat and offered him her hand.
“I have a moment for you, Lord Du Guerre,” she said. “What is on your mind?”
“In private, if I may,” Du Guerre said.
Raven shook her head. “It’s Court, Francois. If you want to make
an appointment, call Dominique in the morning.”
“I will speak for myself, daughter,” Valentina snapped.
Aspen could feel Raven’s annoyance through their link. She put a gentle hand on Raven’s back and smiled.
She can take care of herself, Ray. It’s only Francois. He’s a douchebag, but a predictable one.
Raven shook her head. He’ll take advantage of her condition if he can. Mother should authorize his banishment.
“Lord Du Guerre, as my Fürstin has said, tonight is Court. It would be inappropriate to adjourn to my office,” Valentina continued. “If you cannot speak here, where can you speak? We are all one house, are we not?”
Du Guerre bowed. “As you wish, mi’lady. It has come to my attention that Lord Strohm has been…moved.”
At that, the crowd hushed. Though they were speaking with each other, they were listening to the Mistress. Several turned to take an interest in the conversation happening in the middle of the room. Aspen could sense their interest and…was that doubt?
Uh oh, she thought.
Valentina’s smile never faltered. “I do not understand the reference, Lord Du Guerre. Moved how? He’s dead, dust and bones, as you are well aware.”
Du Guerre nodded. “Just so, mi’lady. However it has come to my attention that his crypt has been disturbed by unknown parties and he is missing.”
Uh oh is right, Raven sent. How does he even have access?
The rest of Court was not paying attention and the room was utterly silent. Valentina stood and glared up at Du Guerre.
“Lord Du Guerre, this isn’t something about which you have any knowledge. Lord Strohm’s crypt is a secret shared only among my most trusted family, which after your betrayal of my daughter, you are no longer a part,” she said.
What bothered Aspen was that Du Guerre’s smile never changed. He looked as calm as frozen butter, and it was getting on her nerves. Poker players got that look right before they threw down a full house.
“Be that as it may, mi’lady, he is missing. I suggest you put your house in order.”
