The Rise of the Dark Lord

by Ashley, Kristen

  Later note to Journal: Found out they hadn’t told Ash about this either, “probably because they wanted us, that being you, to join them.”

  Hmm.

  “Your father is true.”

  Ash said that and I looked at him.

  “Sorry?”

  He looked down at me. “Vampires who take mates are nearly unfailingly faithful. There is only one sect of our community who is more loyal than vampires. And that’s members of Le Société.”

  Super good to know.

  I smiled up at him.

  He took my hand.

  I pulled away and glanced at Aidan.

  “Darling, I’m over it,” Aidan said.

  He was?

  “I’m seeing someone.”

  He was?

  “I’ve known her for a while. I was just…well, consumed by you. And when I wasn’t…”

  He shrugged.

  “I’m so happy for you!” I cried, jumped into his arms and gave him a hug.

  And I was, and not just because it got me off the guilt hook that he’d lived thinking he’d have me or die for me, and it was good he didn’t have to endure the bad part of that, but he didn’t get the good part either.

  I was just happy he was moving toward his own happy.

  He hugged me back.

  We pulled away and I asked, “Can I meet her?”

  “Let us have some time to see where we’re going, and if it’s where I think we’re going, then yes. I’ll tell you all about her.”

  I smiled at him big.

  Red Lady came through the doors.

  “My Lords need a few minutes to get…presentable.”

  “We’ll wait,” I chirped.

  Ten minutes later we were led down six flights of stairs.

  Six.

  No hope of sunlight getting down there.

  What I did hope was that they had an elevator to get us back up.

  (Found out they didn’t, bluh.)

  I know what you’re thinking.

  It was going to be all red and candles and alters and cobwebs and caskets.

  Or flocked wallpaper and a floor covered in velvet pillows draped with mostly nude female bodies and dudes wearing snowy-white, lacy cravats.

  It wasn’t like that.

  Okay, so sure, the furniture provided its user a variety of…activities.

  But if you were creative, all furniture did that.

  Mostly, it looked like a super posh den.

  So I guess that was appropriate.

  One thing I noticed right off the bat was that these dudes slithered.

  Dad and Gabe didn’t slither.

  They were graceful, for dudes.

  But they didn’t slither…

  And glide.

  Like these guys.

  Then again, Dad and Gabe also didn’t observe the purist ways.

  And you bet your bippy I looked them up, and these ways included:

  Regularly consuming virgin blood before, or preferably during deflowering said virgin.

  No sunlight at all, ever.

  Copious amounts of sex or sexual-type activities.

  Copious intake of blood during sex or sexual-type activities (even not with virgins).

  Daily meditation (and yeah, this happened in sarcophaguses).

  Performing of rituals to strengthen prana (that, you guessed it, included altars, candles, incense, bloodletting, and engaging in copious amounts of sex or sexual activities).

  Regular periods of prolonged consumption of nothing but blood (and by regular periods, this meant one to however-many-they-wanted decades without any other food or beverage passing their lips).

  So, we had Fane, Asa, Dimitri, Constantin, Wadim and Bill.

  The Big Guy (as in head vamp) was Fane.

  The vamp who went to the Gathering I went to was Wadim.

  But, in the game of marry, fuck and kill, it would be Fane, Fane and Fane.

  Though it was Ash who’d want to kill him.

  Fane:

  Three hundred years old.

  Since he was sired had never (never!) seen the sun.

  Since he was sired had never (never!) consumed anything but blood.

  Did not look like Edward, Eric Northman, Damon Salvatore, Angel or Lestat.

  Could give Sar and Trae a run for their money in height and heft, had loads of long, flowy black hair, red eyes (red!), pale skin, wore his red-velvet vampire robe with silver-on-black vampire-knot border over black trousers with bare chest as sole wardrobe attire and kept his fangs extended at all times.

  Oh, and he was way into me.

  Now tell me, how had I gone thirty-three years of life being the magnet for losers and suddenly had every hot guy on planet (and in magical under-realms) wanting in my pants?

  Why?

  After first meeting, sharing of names, drinking of wine (or blood) and having some getting-to-know-you time before the vamp boys clearly needed their next fix of disciple, Ash and I returned to our rooms and had our first fight (or the first one after we got together, or, okay, the first one in a while).

  Ash: “You will never be alone with Fane.”

  Me: “You have nothing to worry about with Fane.”

  Ash: “You will never be alone with Fane.”

  Me: “Seriously, why would I want someone like Fane when I have you?”

  Ash: “Mathilda, you will not ever be alone with Fane.”

  Me: “It’s like you don’t trust me!”

  Ash: “I don’t trust Fane.”

  Me: “But you can trust me.”

  Ash: “This isn’t about you.”

  Me: “Seems to be about me to me!”

  Ash: “Just do as I say.”

  Me: “You aren’t the boss of me!”

  Ash: “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

  Me: “So I’m supposed to trust you when you don’t trust me?”

  Ash: “Again, this isn’t about trusting you. I trust you. Him, I absolutely do not trust.”

  Me: “You’re not understanding what I’m saying.”

  Ash: “Darling, I know how you feel.”

  Of course, I slammed out, and since none of the disciples had extended an offer of sisterhood so I could go gripe about my man to them, I went to Aidan.

  Which was a mistake.

  Because Aidan agreed with Ash.

  This was what he had to say:

  “For the most part, Matty, vampires are good people. That would be vampires in the wild. These are not vampires in the wild. These are males who made the conscious decision to eschew everyday life and live, breathe and eat their culture. Make no mistake, these males are intelligent, learned and want the best for their people. But they are also zealots and believe in their way of life above all others. And the way of their life is that females of their kind are rare, and there’s a reason for that. Women serve two purposes for them. Only two. And Fane made no bones about the fact he wants you in red in his bed. He wants your blood, he wants your body, and he does not give a damn you belong to Wilding. Avoid Fane. He gets what he wants, and he’ll pull out all the stops to seduce you.”

  “Can they glamour you?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  Oh boy.

  “Though it’s difficult for anyone to glamour a witch, especially one as powerful as you.”

  Well, that was good.

  “That said, Fane isn’t just any vampire either. He’s the oldest and strongest of their race. So if you could be glamoured, it’d be by Fane.”

  Fantastic.

  So, for the next five days, had evening (of course) appointments with Asa, Dimitri, Constantin, Wadim and Bill to get into the mind of the vampire and understand what were their hopes and desires for a world and all its peoples that lived in harmony.

  Ash was with me during these meetings for reasons obvious to Ash.

  Aidan was with me during these meetings so he could get to know vampires firsthand.

  I learned nothing in these meetings except that vam
pires were seriously misogynistic.

  They all spoke to Ash or Aidan, even if I asked a question.

  They hardly even looked at me!

  They also were riding some serious ego trips.

  They thought their shit didn’t stink.

  I had no idea if they engaged in that act (and I didn’t want to know), but I can’t say I was super fond of any of them after leaving our meetings.

  What I did learn was that they didn’t really care about what happened in the world.

  They were going to do whatever they wanted anyway.

  They always did.

  So what’s the big deal? (These exact words from lips of Bill, though they were said to Ash.)

  Was thinking this trip to Castle Noapte was all one big waste of time, when Red Lady (in all our days there, not a one of the women introduced herself to us by name, to the point they didn’t even give them when asked!) showed with a classy envelope sealed with a red wax button.

  This on top of a big white box bound with a wide, red satin ribbon (mm, gifts, me likey).

  She handed both to me.

  Ash glowered over my shoulder as I read the invitation from Fane to attend him in his bedchamber.

  Alone.

  And wearing what was in the box.

  Cue second fight with Ash.

  Ash: “You’re not going.”

  Me: “I am.”

  Ash: “You are absolutely not going.”

  Me: “I so totally am going.”

  Ash: “We’re not fighting about this, Mathilda.”

  Me: “I know. We’re not. ’Cause I’m going.”

  Ash: “That male is unsafe.”

  Me: “I know.”

  Ash (voice rising): “So you aren’t going.”

  Me (voice pitching higher): “How am I supposed to know about these people if I don’t talk to these people?”

  Ash: “You can talk to him in the den with me sitting next to you.”

  Me: “None of them are saying anything in the den. Especially to me. And this dude’s top dog.”

  Ash: “He wants the blood of the SuperWitch in his veins.”

  Me: “He can want what he wants. I’m not going to give it to him.”

  Ash: “He’s a male who’s had everything he’s wanted since he was sired.”

  Me: “Well, he hasn’t met me yet.”

  Ash (kinda shouting): “For fuck’s sake, Mathilda!”

  Me (grabbing my diamond bracelet and throwing it on the bed, then grabbing my wand and swirling it over said bracelet, and chanting): “Love of life, sacrificed by him, earned by me, naught to part, naught to doubt, naught but he for me, and me for he, from the roots to the skies as reached by my tree, as I will, so mote it be!”

  And with that, a sharp zap of hot pink, shell pink and sizzling silver shot from my wand and the bracelet jumped on the bed.

  I swept it up and put it on.

  Me (shaking wrist at him): “Happy?”

  Ash: “I know when I’ll gain my wings.”

  Me: “When?”

  Ash: “If he touches you, right before I drive a stake through his heart.”

  Yeesh.

  Not incidentally, in the box was a red, gauzy dress with an off-shoulder neckline (held up solely by a thin, red ribbon), a floaty bodice, gathering at the midriff and waist with some ultra-wide satin ribbons (red), and a long, swirly skirt, all of which was, okay, I’ll admit it, a bit see through.

  And yeah.

  Duh.

  It was awesome, so I totally wore it.

  Fortunately, I was me so I was always prepared (wardrobe-wise).

  So under it I wore full-coverage black panties (not granny, but no cheek exposed) and a black strapless bra.

  There was also a red velvet ribbon to wear as a choker.

  I wore it in my hair.

  No need to invite interest to that area.

  Oh yeah, and I wore Ash’s bracelet.

  Fane’s bedchamber was down eight flights of steps past those double doors (I was going to have to take a breather in the den on the way back up).

  Kid you not, it seemed there was a whole town carved out down there and I don’t think any of them had anything to do with the seemingly hundreds of rooms towering above ground because I not once saw them up there (except on the roof, but that’s for later).

  But, whatevs.

  It wasn’t my castle.

  Although the den was all masculine colors and leather and thick rugs, Fane had a thing for red.

  Red bedclothes. Red drapes on his massive four-poster. Thick red carpets.

  The tapestries, however, were dark.

  Sure, there was crimson (as in the blood flowing from the naked ladies’ necks and, uh…other places).

  But mostly, in lots of warm, deep colors, they depicted a lot of vamps and their chicks getting it on.

  I was studying one, and marveling at the flexibility of a woman in it, wondering if this was artistic license, or stitched from memory of actual events, when it felt like someone breathed on my neck and Fane’s voice was in my ear.

  “Do you like it?”

  He had a deep voice and it wasn’t all, “I vant to drink your blaaaaaaahd.”

  It was rough and kind of guttural and all…

  That.

  I whirled, but he wasn’t right behind me.

  He was across the room, all velvet robes, black hair flowing around his head like we were outside in a stiff breeze, and wall of naked chest.

  “Hey,” I greeted.

  He drifted toward me. “I will gift it to you if you like it.”

  I tended to shy away from decorating in porn.

  “Thanks, that’s sweet, but you keep it.”

  He stopped a few feet away, yep, hair still drifting, robes drifting too.

  I mean, seriously, another world, another time, another me, I’d get lost in this guy.

  But I sensed getting lost was the only way it could be with him.

  I totally preferred being found with Ash.

  “That gown suits you,” he noted.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Listen, could you get the chicks to tell us their names? It’s a little weird, they bring us food, make our beds, exchange our towels, etcetera, and we don’t know what to call them.”

  He appeared bemused. “Their names?”

  “Yes, the women, your women, the ones who look after us, and I assume you. I’ve asked a few of their names, they just smile and walk away.”

  “They have no names.”

  Whoa.

  “They don’t?”

  “Why do they need names?”

  Whoa!

  “Uh…”

  “They serve, this is their only purpose,” he shared.

  “Okay, then, what do you say, like, when you need something and they’re there, but they’re doing something else, and you want their attention?”

  I tell them to come to me.

  Right.

  Shit.

  There you go.

  Because, that was not spoken out loud.

  Fane said that in my head.

  “You should know, I have a mind-meld with Ash,” I blurted.

  “You have nothing of the sort when you are in here…with me,” he returned.

  Right.

  Shit.

  “I—”

  I got no more out.

  He lifted his hand.

  I lifted my hand.

  Though it was not me lifting my hand!

  And the very sturdy clasp of my diamond bracelet released, the bracelet flew off my wrist, through the air, and Fane caught it.

  Right.

  SHIT!

  Mental note: ListentoAsh, ListentoAidan, ListentoAshListentoAidanListentoAsh.

  “Uh…Fane. I’d like my bracelet back.”

  He smiled, lazy and hot.

  Mathilda, come to me.

  Don’t panic.

  Now even you’re doing it.

  But remember, I’m Mathilda.

  Sup
erWitch.

  I so totally had the urge.

  Because a) he was hot and b) he was giving me the urge.

  And the power was strong with this one.

  Seriously.

  But I fought it.

  And I did not go to him.

  I walked to his bed (the only piece of furniture in the room, outside two nightstands—bed was four-poster and had crimson drapes, nightstands had candelabrum with red candles, about a gazillion of them, all lit—this dude went for the vampire gusto).

  I climbed in, turned around, sat cross-legged, arranged my skirt to best cover me, folded my hands in my lap and looked to him.

  “You should call them by their names,” I said.

  Another lazy, sexy smile as he glided my way, murmuring, “Impressive.”

  “We can do this for a while, but I’m kinda powerful, so it isn’t going to get you anywhere. It might be fun, but it’d be a waste of time. And as of this moment, Ash is trying to talk himself out of pissing me off by demonstrating he doesn’t trust me, stalking down here and staking you. We probably shouldn’t give him time to fail in talking himself out of that.”

  Fane stopped at the foot of the bed and noted, “I find this intriguing. This actually holds a threat. I’m not accustomed to that. But he is Fae.”

  I smiled up at him. “Yup.”

  He tipped his head to the side. “The Lament?”

  “Yup.”

  “Formidable protection, indeed.”

  “Yup.”

  “I suppose with the way he looks at you, and the way you are with him, I could not convince you to dally with me?”

  “Nope.”

  “Pity,” he muttered, casting his red eyes all over me.

  “Shit got real on Hallowe’en, Fane,” I brought the matter to hand.

  “This was reported to us.”

  “Dad’s reported the vampires are in. But you’re the Big Kahuna. So to make it official, I kinda need to know what your feelings are about that.”

  I stiffened when he fell forward, but he only did this so he could lounge negligently across the foot of his bed in front of me, on his side, up on a forearm, ankles crossed.