Night Myst

Page 14

The room was lit with chandeliers and a rotating disco ball, but somehow none of the glitz looked tacky, just sparkly and brilliant. There were odd scents in the air--perfumes that I'd never smelled but that made me think of lush gardens and opium dens.
And then, there were the vampires. I had fleeting glimpses of actual humans in the crowd, but the vampires were easy to pick out. Pupilless eyes might be freaky on Little Orphan Annie, but the vamps made them work. It would be so easy to fall into the blackness, to lose yourself in that shining void.
They seemed to be dancing in slow motion, strobed by the flashing of the rotating light, caught in freeze-frame to the rhythm of the music. The room was filled with Armani and Vera Wang and Calvin Klein and Yves Saint Laurent's Rive Gauche, and I began to realize these were power players. Old money scented the room, oily and thick and rooted in deals long dust.
"Are there any poor vamps?" Rhiannon whispered, and several of the nearest dancers turned their heads our way. One gave us a long, languorous smile. "Oh shit, they heard me," she added.
I nodded back at the smiling vamp and murmured under my breath, "Yeah, watch your mouth."
"I'm so glad you could make it."
One moment we were standing alone, the next--a woman stood by my side. She held out her hand and I cautiously accepted. Her skin was cool but not clammy, and silken. Golden blonde, with her hair gathered into an elegant chignon, she was no taller than Rhiannon but she wore her power like a cloak.
"I'm Regina Altos, Emissary to the Crimson Queen." She lingered a moment on my hand, rubbing my palm with one finger, before inclining her head at the others. "I'm so glad you and your friends could attend our little soiree."
Leo and Rhiannon murmured politely while I frantically tried to think of what to say next. This wasn't my usual social situation. I scrambled but was drawing a blank. Should I just act like I belonged here? Should I ask her what she wanted? Was it rude to take charge of the conversation with someone who was older than the pyramids? Luckily, Regina put an end to my dilemma.
"Come. We will return to enjoy the party, but for now--a meeting. Your friends are invited to sit in; no doubt you would tell them what we say anyway." She motioned for us to follow her and we wove through the crowd toward the end of the room where I could see yet another door.
On the way, I bumped up against a vamp and he looked down at me, hunger and delight filling his face. Catching my breath, I narrowed my shoulders and hurried past, trying to squeeze through without attracting any more attention than necessary.
Regina led us into a study--which was bigger than our living room at home--and there, behind the desk, sat a man, vaguely Chinese, but he obviously had some other bloodline going on in there, too. He looked to be around thirty, but by his eyes, I knew he was far older than that. He was dressed in a pair of leather pants, a ruffled lavender shirt, and a leather vest. His long, sharp nails were painted with gold and his hair hung down to his waist, free and smoothly onyx. In a word: Stunning.
He stood as we entered the room and motioned for us to take a seat in a conversation area. We sat in a line on the Victorian sofa, and waited.
"Look, they gather together like a litter of kittens," he said, smiling at us. He glanced up at Regina, who let out a throaty laugh.
"Leo, my trusty day runner, it's good of you to come with your new friend and your lovely courtesan." The man took a seat in a wing chair opposite me, and Regina sat in the matching chair to his side.
"Thank you for the invitation, Lord Geoffrey." Leo bowed, formally, then took his place beside Rhiannon. I stared at him. His manner had totally shifted. He was in Geoffrey's pocket for tonight. Once again, I wondered about the safety of having someone so aligned with the vamps living in our house, but thinking about the alternative--being without his added protection--made me just as nervous.
I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry, but we haven't been introduced." I stood and gave him a very short bow. Instinct told me to reserve shaking hands for people who weren't likely to look at my wrist like a feeding station.
He grinned, then, and glanced at Regina. "You're right. She's got spunk. I smell fear hiding there, too, but she covers it well."
Feeling even more put out, I let out a short huff and that produced yet another response. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.
"Spunk can be a delightful quality. Impatience is annoying. Don't push your luck, girl." As a long, predatory smile spread across his face, I felt about two inches tall and just as vulnerable. I eased back into my seat.
"Very good, we understand one another," he added. "As to introductions, yes, you're right. You wouldn't remember me, although I first met you when you were a toddler. And I've never had the pleasure of meeting your cousin. I'm Lord Geoffrey, Regent for the Northwest Division of the Vampire Nation."
Regina folded her hands on her lap. "Cicely, we have a proposal for you. And you must give us an answer tonight. Our proposal is simple: Our Queen requires that you come work for us. And as I said, I make certain that the Crimson Queen gets what she wants."
I stared at Regina, with absolutely no idea what to say. If I just stood up and walked out, I'd be toast by morning. And yet, beneath her laughter, I could hear something. I strained to catch the nuance.
Fear . . . fear came wafting in on the wind, fear of what I represented.
Very slowly, I stood. "What is it you want me to do?" "Cicely--" Rhiannon's voice held a warning, but I shook my head.
"Do you really think I have a choice? I have to at least listen to what she says." Or I'll never make it out of this house alive, treaty or no treaty.
"Smart woman." Reining in her sensuality, Regina was suddenly all business and her all-business side was just as scary. The look on her face told me she wouldn't stop till she had what she wanted. "Allow me to summon my brother. He's late and he should be here before we go on with this." She picked up a telephone and a few minutes later, the door opened.
The most beautiful man in the world entered the room. Lannan Altos was wearing a crimson brocade smoking jacket over a pair of indigo wash jeans, and his hair fell in a mass of curls to mid-back, the color of spun gold. His face could easily have rivaled Apollo's and the resemblance between him and Regina was clear. They sparkled like the sun together, with eyes black as deep space.
He tilted his head and smiled, fangs lowering. I felt myself falling, falling deep, falling wide, falling like I'd fallen into Grieve's embrace but this was different, there was no sense of connection other than the slender thread of unspoken communication that was passing between us.
Do you wonder what it's like . . . do you want to know? I'll teach you. All you have to do is give me control and I'll give you reason to hunger for me.
I felt myself moving toward him, toward that beautiful, rich voice that echoed in my thoughts. I wanted to go, to find out what he was promising.
Leo grabbed my arm even as a tiny voice inside shrieked, Don't look in his eyes . . . don't listen too deeply to his voice . . . don't let him smell your fear . . .
Regina laughed. "I see you respond to my brother's charms. Most women do. Lannan, this is Cicely Waters. Cicely--my brother. Now, onto our proposition: We know of your connection to the Fae named Grieve. He's a member of the Indigo Court."
I struggled to keep my voice neutral, but inside, I jumped. The vamps held no love for the Indigo Court, so I wasn't surprised they were aware of Grieve's presence. What did surprise me was that they knew about Grieve and me. But I couldn't let them think they'd thrown me for a loop.
"And . . . ?"
"All we want is for you to continue what you're doing. Keep an eye on him. Infiltrate his world, and apprise us of all you see and hear. Before you say no, consider this: We know you understand the nature of the Indigo Court . . . the history of what they are, and how they got that way. There will be no playing off sides here. You will be our agent." Her eyes, like steel marbles, glistened in the dim light.
"Why me?"
"The Queen has her reasons. If you choose to work for us, you will receive a handsome monetary recompense and other . . . shall we say, perks? And you will be under our protection. But if you refuse to volunteer your help . . . we'll be forced to think of other ways in which to ensure your cooperation." Her voice dropped and I gazed into her face again. The primal fierceness in her gaze sent me reeling back into my chair.
"So, I either cooperate or . . ."
"Or we'll find less generous methods of engaging your services." Regina leaned down and planted a kiss on my forehead, her lipstick forming a burning pout on my skin. I wanted to wipe it off but she might consider that an insult.
"Can I think it over tonight and give you an answer tomorrow?" Stall for time, any time. I hadn't expected to be offered a job, and one that came with such steep ramifications.
"No. We have to know your answer now. Will you help us?"
I stared at her, feeling trapped. Either I helped, or they'd punish me. And perhaps my friends. "Why do you want me to do this? I have the right to know."
Lannan spoke, laughing gently through his words. "Let's take her to see Crawl. He might convince her." He looked too eager, and I wanted to scrunch away, out of sight, unnoticed.
Regina gave him a hard glance. "Crawl? Are you joking?"
"No. Take her to Crawl. He's hard to resist."
Geoffrey shifted, looking uncomfortable, but he held his tongue and a look passed between him and Leo. Leo hung his head, even though Rhiannon was not-so-gently poking his arm.
"Perhaps you are right." Regina motioned to me. "But I'll be the one to take her. Between you and the Blood Oracle, there'd be nothing left of the girl to help us." She slid her arm around my shoulder and led me over to a bookshelf.
"Wait--where are you taking her?" Rhiannon called behind me.
"Patience, firecracker," Lannan said behind me. "You and Leo stay here. Have a drink with me. My sister will keep your cousin safe. As long as she behaves herself."
Regina pressed a book on the bookshelf--I didn't notice which one, and it slid open, silently, to reveal a dark passage. I followed her in, knowing that I had no choice. I'd left choice behind when I walked through the front door.
"I would not do this," she said once it closed, "but my brother makes a point. This will perhaps convince you more than what we have to say."
"What's the Blood Oracle?" Better forewarned than be taken by surprise.
"Better to ask who." She blinked. "The Blood Oracle is the seer of the Crimson Court. He's held his office for two thousand years. His name is Crawl, but never address him directly. You must ask all questions through me. He will no longer speak to mortals, be they magic-born or human."
We passed into a dark room. A table sat in the center, illuminated by a single bulb from the ceiling, and on the octagonal-shaped table rested a crystal, hovering above a clear crimson slab of glass that softly glowed. The feel of magic hung heavy in the room and crawled up my arms like scuttling needles, prickling my nerves. This was heavy magic, old magic. Dark and ominous. The rest of the room was cloaked in inky shadows and I had the feeling that to step outside of the dim illumination would be to put my life in danger.
I started to ask what it was, then stopped. Regina was staring intently at the crystal, her fingers hovering above it, and I didn't want to interrupt her train of thought because I could feel how deep she was sliding. I folded my arms, suddenly cold and dizzy. The magic churned like waves cresting over a boat, and the room started to spin. Regina reached out and grabbed me by the wrist, and the next thing I knew, everything had gone black in a massive rush of wind.
Chapter 11
The scent of a thousand years raced by, turning back the calendar month by dusty month. Smog and dust and the smoke from a million fires gusted past. Voices--cries lost in the depths of time, whispers from old ghosts wandering past, and the howling of wolves rocked the wind.
My wolf let out a whimper, waking as he stretched to learn what was going on. I tried to comfort him--for I knew it was Grieve feeling my fear, sensing my tailspin, but he snarled as I brushed my hand over my stomach.
A cacophony of sound assaulted my ears and I tried to pull away from Regina, to cover my ears, but then all fell silent.
We stood in a softly lit room. The chamber was huge, with a table in the center identical to the one back at the mansion, crystal and all. The same hum of energy rang through the gem and I tried to memorize exactly what it looked like so I could figure out what it was later.
The chamber we were in stretched farther than I could see, and the ceiling was a good thirty feet high. The walls were covered with a crimson paper, and the light came from some hidden source. Benches lined the walls, and the floor was covered with magical symbols. Heavy magic rolled like mist around my ankles, making my skin twitch. Whatever had been done here had upset the balance and created a force greater than just about anything I'd ever felt.
Regina touched my shoulder. "Come. Stay on the walkway."
She began to move toward what appeared to be the back of the chamber and I followed, wondering where the hell we were going. We walked along a narrow path of Tuscan gold, bounded by thick black lines on either side. There were no symbols on the tiles and, as we made our way up the walk, I began to realize that if I stepped off the path I'd land on one of the sigils. The runes were active and aware--there was no telling just what sort of spell I'd set off.
As we came to the end of the chamber, a dais rose a good five feet off the floor and Regina lithely glided up and on it. She stopped, turning back to me, and leaned over, extending her hand. I reached up to grasp her fingers and, with barely a murmur, she yanked me up and onto the dais. Blinking at her strength, I waited for her to make the next move.