Darkness Embraced (23 page)

“Is that…?”

“The mark of one of the Great Sires?” I asked.

“Sì, is it?” He leaned forward, tilting his head like a crow that was inspecting something shiny.

“It is,” I said. “Someone summoned one of the Dracule to kill us, Vasco.”

“That is treachery,” he said, clearly appalled. “Who would do such a thing? How could they do such a thing?” he asked, though it sounded more as if he was thinking out loud. “How could anyone be awake to summon one of the Great Sires?”

Cuinn whispered through my mind.

The Stone of Shadows.

Since he didn’t explain or add anything more, I asked Vasco. “What do you know about the Stone of Shadows?”

“La pietra di ombre?” He sat back with a thoughtful expression, his lips pursed. “It is a magical relic forged with the blood of the Great Sires. The legend is that the Great Sire who created the first placed his blood in the stone so that his immortal lover would not die when the sun rose.”

“It was created with the sole intent of keeping a vampire alive during the daylit hours?”

“Alive and protected from the sunlight itself, sì.”

Why hadn’t the Dracule bothered to tell me as much?

“Do the Dracule die at dawn like we do?”

“No.”

“So whoever summoned the Dracule must have the Stone,” I said.

“Which complicates things.”

“How does it complicate things?”

“Because the
stones
do not belong to our kind, colombina. The only way a stone could have fallen into the hands of one of our kind is if one of the Great Sires gave it to them.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said. It was obvious there was an old underlying feud between our two kinds, but I had not grasped how deeply embedded that feud was. “Some of the Dracule resent us greatly,” I said, “I know this, but why would—”

Vasco answered my question before I’d finished asking it. “Think about it, colombina. If the Dracule has bound his or herself to one of the Rosso Lussuria, their agendas must coincide.”

“Their agenda being the destruction of our kind.”

“Sì.”

“Could it be the same Dracule that bound herself to me?” I didn’t want to ask it. I didn’t want to know, but I had to ask. I had to know.

“A Dracule can only be bound to one lover at a time.” A look of melancholy crossed his face and I sensed the thread of heartache in his voice.

“You had a Draculian lover?” I asked, managing to sound only a little surprised.

The corner of his mouth raised in a half smile that didn’t reach or match the well of sorrow in his eyes. “Sì, his name was Pantaleone. He was my lover many years before you were even born.”

“What happened to him?” I asked.

“He was murdered,” Vasco said. It hurt to hear the pain in his voice.

“Did Renata have a Draculian lover, Vasco?”

“Our Queen had her alliances with some of the Dracule. To my knowledge, she never took one to her bed. That would be a question better directed at our Queen, Epiphany. Why do you ask it of me?”

“She’s a little hush-hush on the subject.”

“In other words, she is being vague with you?”

“Yes.”

“She will give you an answer when and if she’s ready to give it to you.”

“I know that. I was her pet for fifty years, remember?”

“Are you saying that you are no longer her pet?”

“You know what I mean. Tell me about Pantaleone. Were you bound to him?”

“Sì,” he said, and again his expression took on a sad look. “I felt his death when he was murdered.”

“Did you ever find the murderer?”

He turned away from me then. “No, and it is a bitter torment that still gnaws at my heart.”

“I’m sorry, Vasco.”

“Do not be sorry, bellezza. I have had a fair amount of time to grieve.” The smile he conjured was etched with bitterness and sorrow.

“I never saw a sigil on your skin.”

“The sigil faded when Pantaleone died.”

I nodded. I wanted the answers that Vasco seemed to have, but it was a sore subject, and I didn’t want to rub verbal salt in his wounds. How do you find the answers you’re looking for when the only questions you have are painful ones? Vasco chose that moment to question me.

“How did you come to bear the mark, Epiphany?”

“Renata and I bargained with the Dracule.”

“What did you use as the bargaining chip?”

 “My body.”

“The Dracule asked to be taken to your bed?”

“Yes, how did you—”

“That is what Pantaleone did to me. I was newly reborn when Pantaleone appeared in my room late one night. I had been struggling with controlling my freshly awakened hungers. Pantaleone propositioned me. If I would offer him my bed, he would teach me to control all my hungers.”

“Did the Queen not teach you to control your hungers?”

“The Queen can only teach one so much,” he said. “You became her pet when she brought you over, Epiphany. She taught you to control your hungers more intimately than the rest of us.”

I nodded, for it made sense. “So Pantaleone taught you how to control your thirst?”

“As well as other things that I think you would rather not hear about.”

“Probably not,” I said, eyeing him. “When did Pantaleone give you his mark?”

“Not until some time had passed,” he said. “The Dracule do not give their marks lightly.”

I glanced down at the curving black lines on my wrist. “Are you so sure about that?”

“I am sure, colombina. If the Dracule gave you her mark, she did not do such a thing on a whim.”

“I can understand that. What I don’t understand is why she felt I was worthy of her mark. The mark itself seems like a big deal. She said I pleased her and yet, she didn’t seem entirely pleased with our people to begin with.”

“What did she tell you her reasoning was?”

“That of an alliance,” I said.

“That is dangerous for her.”

“I know, that’s why I don’t understand why she chose to give it to me in the first place.”

“Perhaps,” he said, “after your years with Renata the Dracule was impressed with your…skills?”

“I am not so skilled as that.”

“You would be surprised, colombina. The Dracule are a dominant lot. They like lovers that are willing to submit to them.”

“I have offered Renata my loyalty and my submission. The Dracule has not earned such a gift from me, not yet.”

Vasco gave me a surprised look. “You do not think she senses your innate nature? Our Queen did.”

“Are you saying that the Queen brought me over just because she thought I would be her submissive plaything? She brought me over because I was dying, Vasco. She gave me life when life itself offered death.”

“I am not saying that is the whole of it, only a sum of the reasoning. She saw in you what she desired, and perhaps, so too does the Dracule.”

I wondered then if perhaps my innate nature was sensed by all. Is that why Lucrezia had begun tormenting me as soon as Renata cast me from her bed? Surely, Lucrezia understood the difference between consensual and nonconsensual pain. As soon as I thought it, I knew she didn’t. I sensed very strongly that the lines had completely blurred for her many years ago, if they hadn’t already been blurry. I told Vasco then about my confrontation with Lucrezia. I told him of the surprise and flicker of fear that I’d sensed from her when she had seen the Dracule’s mark on my wrist.

“She is afraid of the Dracule?” He started sliding out of bed and I was glad to see that he didn’t die in the nude. A pair of silky blue boxers clung to his Greek statue of a body.

“I believe so, yes.” I watched as he disappeared into his closet and reemerged tugging on a pair of black pants. I told him about how I had thought Lucrezia innocent until her comment about Renata and I being wary.

He stopped me while pulling on one of his black boots. “Wait, you threatened Lucrezia?”

I thought about my reply and said carefully, “In a way, yes.”

“What did you say to her?”

“I told her to be wary of what powers she chases, for some powers have a way of returning chase.”

He sat on the floor lacing his knee high boots. “I do not know whether to be proud of you or afraid for you. I would not say that threatening Lucrezia is exactly a wise thing to do.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s wise or not, Vasco. If I pass the trials and become an Elder and she keeps trying to torment me, she’ll be challenging my status within the clan.”

“You’re not the only one she enjoys trying to torture, colombina.”

“I know there are other Elders that Lucrezia verbally toys with, but she manages not to overstep any boundaries with them.”

“She’s perfected the art of being an irritant while remaining outwardly courteous.”

I nodded. “Precisely. She will insult the Elders in such a way they cannot always take outright offense. I do not think she will spare me the outward appearance of courtesy if I rise in status.”

“You are probably right,” he said, sitting at a vanity table in front of a large mirror. He began practically trying to rip the bindings out of his hair, tugging at them vehemently enough that I knew he was ripping strands of hair out with the force of his efforts. I placed the sword on the bed and went to him, shooing his hand away from his hair.

“Let me do it, Vasco. You’re going to rip your hair out doing it yourself.”

He met my reflection in the mirror. “I do not have the patience for it.”

“I noticed,” I said, carefully undoing the first black binding. I tossed it on the table and used my fingers to unravel the braid. The silver strands were a bit more difficult to unknot, as they had been carefully laced at the base of each braid.

“Who braided your hair for you?”

“One of the younger ones,” he said. “She took a fancy to what she said was my pretty long mane.”

“And so you let her play with it?”

“Why not?” he said and his eyes started closing like a lazy cat’s. “I don’t mind the pampering.”

The corner of my mouth twitched. “Sometimes I think you were supposed to be a girl, Vasco.”

He grinned at me wide enough to flash fang. “With a body like this?” he asked, touching the middle of his chest with one hand.

I thumped him hard on the back of the shoulder. He awarded me with a masculine laugh.

I was on the last braid, trying to untangle the silver tinsel when he asked me, “You think Lucrezia is involved?”

“The Dracule said it was a male that summoned her.” I loosened the tinsel, freeing it of the long black strand. “I do feel that somehow, Lucrezia is involved.”

“The matter is figuring out how she’s involved,” he said, “and what she has to gain, considering.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed there’s a fair amount of tension between our kinds.” I leaned over to retrieve the brush from the table. I started brushing out the untamed waves of his hair, pulling it back so that I could braid it.

Vasco laughed. “Fair amount. That’s an understatement. It’s been an ongoing animosity for too many years to keep track of. I do not understand why a Dracule would side with a vampire.”

“Because they hate us?”

“Or love us,” he said. I wasn’t sure what to say to that and so we ended up sitting in silence. Finally, I changed the subject.

“When did you get the piercings? I’ve never seen you wear them.”

“I’ve had them,” he said, “since Pantaleone.”

I nodded, procuring a black band to secure at the end of the braid. The braid fell to the middle of his back.

“You should finish getting dressed. We need to find Renata and meet with the others.”

Vasco stood and I suddenly found myself wrapped in the circle of his arms. I hugged him back, resting my cheek against his bare chest.

“It’ll be okay, Epiphany.”

“I hope so, Vasco. I truly do.”

“We’ll figure it out, mia sorella. It’s not the first treacherous conspiracy we’ve had to unravel within the clan and it won’t be the last.”

Hate and love. Love and hate. I wondered if Vasco had a point. If so, which was it? Or was it something else entirely?

I learned that the vampire the Dracule had taken was named Karsten. I had never spoken to him and did not know him, but he was one of the Underlings and in his years of servitude. Once Renata refreshed my memory, I knew he was the one who had been turned by the Elder Rosabella.

The turning of a mortal to vampire is not a common thing and only happens when the Queen herself decides or grants permission to bring someone over. In my years among the Rosso Lussuria, Karsten was the only mortal I had known chosen by one of the Elders to become a vampire. Like me, Karsten had been taken by the Cacciatori.

Unlike Renata, I do not think it was a matter of pity with Rosabella. Karsten had been healthy when she had taken a fancy to him. She was a creature of whim. She desired Karsten and so sought Renata’s permission to turn him some thirty years ago. Renata gave it, allowing Rosabella to give him the kiss of death and rebirth.