Blood Prophecy
Page 28
Sky didn’t let go of my wrist. “She’s attached to the queen. Can’t I just take her to the Drake tent?”
“You know Solange’s rules. No exception.” She looked at me, her pupils widening and glinting. “Come along.” She was trying to use her pheromones on me. She didn’t know who I was or that I was immune. It was the only weapon I had left, besides the stake in the sole of my left boot. I forced myself to follow her docilely. Sky darted away, bolting so quickly there was only a whirlwind of dust and snow where she’d been standing.
On the other side of the tree line the camp was fairly quiet. The few vampires outside turned to watch us as the guard marched me down the main path. There was the usual assortment of brocade gowns, glittering saris, medieval tunics, and ripped jeans. The vampire still clinging to the eighties with her side ponytail and teased bangs was unfortunate. There were also fangs and snarls and bloodstains in the dirt.
We passed the Drake tent, the blue-and-silver dragon pennant flapping in the cold wind under a royal banner. I didn’t see Solange or Nicholas and I honestly wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. “Where are we going?” I asked the guard. “I’m here for Nicholas Drake. You know? The queen’s brother?” Referring to Solange as the queen was just weird. “And the queen? Kind of my best friend.”
“Mm-hmmm.” She didn’t sound convinced or even particularly impressed. Damn it. “All human visitors have to wait here for their hosts.”
I balked, physically digging my heels into the dirt. It might have been midnight in the middle of a forest under a mountain, but between the full moon and the torches and camping lanterns, I could see perfectly well.
Too well.
The rows of painted canvas tents, some as large as carnival big tops, came to a natural meeting place, like a village square. In the center of the grass-flattened clearing was a tree stripped of its branches that stood at least three feet around. Hooks were set into the trunk, securing chains.
Attached to them were humans.
Some wore chains several yards long, stretching out to canvas roofs painted with vampire crests and furnished with cushions and small iron fire pits for warmth. Some were bare to the elements. While others were secured right up against the tree post with barely enough slack in their chains to sit down. Most of them were pale and wore necklaces and bracelets of dried blood.
“Oh hell, no,” I said when the guard yanked me forward.
“Queen’s orders,” she returned drily. “You know, your best friend?”
Sarcasm is so much better as a weapon when I’m the one wielding it.
“Solange would never order something like this,” I said quietly.
“That’s Queen Solange to you,” the guard corrected, snapping a metal cuff around my wrist and stalking away.
I pulled savagely but I already knew it wouldn’t magically click open. The metal was cold on my skin and the chain was short enough that I had to lean against the tree. I couldn’t help but remember the last time I’d tried to infiltrate a vampire gathering. I’d ended up in a dungeon dressed like an extra from a Marie-Antoinette movie set while another crazy “queen” ate a raw deer heart thinking it belonged to my best friend. Chained to a post with snow falling lightly, with hungry vampires pacing the perimeter, wasn’t exactly an improvement.
Apparently, learning from my mistakes wasn’t high on my list of priorities.
When my teeth started to chatter, I tried to ease closer to one of the fires. I managed to move about three inches. I yanked at the chain again, scowling. I’d never felt less like a vampire sympathizer or a vampire hunter in my entire life.
“You’ll only hurt yourself,” a guy about my age called from under the protection of a tent top and a pile of blankets. He looked comfortable and perfectly happy, watching a movie on a laptop. “They only chain the new ones or the ones being punished that close to the post.”
“Great,” I muttered. “And what do you mean ‘being punished’? For what?”
He shrugged, the fire crackling between us casting shadows under his eyes. “Traitors, donors who can’t keep a secret. The usual.” He grimaced at his own chains, glinting from the edge of one of his blankets. “Can’t say I love the new system.”
“Yeah,” I agreed sourly. “It’s kind of rude.”
“Apparently the new queen is traditional.”
I snorted. “Traditional whack job?”
He looked around warily. “You’re new to this vampire thing, aren’t you?”
I nearly laughed out loud. “Not exactly.”
“Well, a little tip. Vampires have really good hearing and the queen doesn’t like to hear dissension.”
I had to actually bite my tongue until tears came to my eyes to stop the comment I was dying to make about the new queen and what she could do with her traditions. The pain cleared my head. “Traditional to when?” I asked instead. “Because I’ve never heard of this.”
“The twelfth century, apparently,” he replied, shrugging. “The Middle Ages or something. My host family isn’t that old, so I don’t know much else.”
Okay, whatever had happened to Solange was somehow linked to the twelfth century. I wasn’t sure why that was important, but it felt like something I might need to know. I felt a small surge of excitement that we might actually find a way to save her.
A vampire with an expression I didn’t trust, circled closer to me, sniffing.
“You know Solange’s rules. No exception.” She looked at me, her pupils widening and glinting. “Come along.” She was trying to use her pheromones on me. She didn’t know who I was or that I was immune. It was the only weapon I had left, besides the stake in the sole of my left boot. I forced myself to follow her docilely. Sky darted away, bolting so quickly there was only a whirlwind of dust and snow where she’d been standing.
On the other side of the tree line the camp was fairly quiet. The few vampires outside turned to watch us as the guard marched me down the main path. There was the usual assortment of brocade gowns, glittering saris, medieval tunics, and ripped jeans. The vampire still clinging to the eighties with her side ponytail and teased bangs was unfortunate. There were also fangs and snarls and bloodstains in the dirt.
We passed the Drake tent, the blue-and-silver dragon pennant flapping in the cold wind under a royal banner. I didn’t see Solange or Nicholas and I honestly wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. “Where are we going?” I asked the guard. “I’m here for Nicholas Drake. You know? The queen’s brother?” Referring to Solange as the queen was just weird. “And the queen? Kind of my best friend.”
“Mm-hmmm.” She didn’t sound convinced or even particularly impressed. Damn it. “All human visitors have to wait here for their hosts.”
I balked, physically digging my heels into the dirt. It might have been midnight in the middle of a forest under a mountain, but between the full moon and the torches and camping lanterns, I could see perfectly well.
Too well.
The rows of painted canvas tents, some as large as carnival big tops, came to a natural meeting place, like a village square. In the center of the grass-flattened clearing was a tree stripped of its branches that stood at least three feet around. Hooks were set into the trunk, securing chains.
Attached to them were humans.
Some wore chains several yards long, stretching out to canvas roofs painted with vampire crests and furnished with cushions and small iron fire pits for warmth. Some were bare to the elements. While others were secured right up against the tree post with barely enough slack in their chains to sit down. Most of them were pale and wore necklaces and bracelets of dried blood.
“Oh hell, no,” I said when the guard yanked me forward.
“Queen’s orders,” she returned drily. “You know, your best friend?”
Sarcasm is so much better as a weapon when I’m the one wielding it.
“Solange would never order something like this,” I said quietly.
“That’s Queen Solange to you,” the guard corrected, snapping a metal cuff around my wrist and stalking away.
I pulled savagely but I already knew it wouldn’t magically click open. The metal was cold on my skin and the chain was short enough that I had to lean against the tree. I couldn’t help but remember the last time I’d tried to infiltrate a vampire gathering. I’d ended up in a dungeon dressed like an extra from a Marie-Antoinette movie set while another crazy “queen” ate a raw deer heart thinking it belonged to my best friend. Chained to a post with snow falling lightly, with hungry vampires pacing the perimeter, wasn’t exactly an improvement.
Apparently, learning from my mistakes wasn’t high on my list of priorities.
When my teeth started to chatter, I tried to ease closer to one of the fires. I managed to move about three inches. I yanked at the chain again, scowling. I’d never felt less like a vampire sympathizer or a vampire hunter in my entire life.
“You’ll only hurt yourself,” a guy about my age called from under the protection of a tent top and a pile of blankets. He looked comfortable and perfectly happy, watching a movie on a laptop. “They only chain the new ones or the ones being punished that close to the post.”
“Great,” I muttered. “And what do you mean ‘being punished’? For what?”
He shrugged, the fire crackling between us casting shadows under his eyes. “Traitors, donors who can’t keep a secret. The usual.” He grimaced at his own chains, glinting from the edge of one of his blankets. “Can’t say I love the new system.”
“Yeah,” I agreed sourly. “It’s kind of rude.”
“Apparently the new queen is traditional.”
I snorted. “Traditional whack job?”
He looked around warily. “You’re new to this vampire thing, aren’t you?”
I nearly laughed out loud. “Not exactly.”
“Well, a little tip. Vampires have really good hearing and the queen doesn’t like to hear dissension.”
I had to actually bite my tongue until tears came to my eyes to stop the comment I was dying to make about the new queen and what she could do with her traditions. The pain cleared my head. “Traditional to when?” I asked instead. “Because I’ve never heard of this.”
“The twelfth century, apparently,” he replied, shrugging. “The Middle Ages or something. My host family isn’t that old, so I don’t know much else.”
Okay, whatever had happened to Solange was somehow linked to the twelfth century. I wasn’t sure why that was important, but it felt like something I might need to know. I felt a small surge of excitement that we might actually find a way to save her.
A vampire with an expression I didn’t trust, circled closer to me, sniffing.
