Helpless (Blue Fire Saga) (13 page)

17. A SUMMONING

T
he summons from Lord Ricard was both brief and powerful. Stefan could still feel the psychic message echoing in his head.
Come. Now.

All vampires can sense the presence of other vampires when they are close, but not all are capable of sending thought messages—that talent took many, many years to even begin to master. Ricard had been vampire for a thousand years and was powerful besides. That he was the vampire who had turned Stefan four hundred years ago only added to the strength of their psychic connection.

Stefan wasted no time obeying the summons. He glided through the dark labyrinth of caverns that made up the vampire lair to Ricard’s chamber. The massive series of caves beneath the hills on the eastern shore of the Connecticut River had been carved by an ancient underground river that had long since vanished. Ricard and a dozen of his followers had discovered the hidden caverns almost two hundred years before and had made it their home, shaping the various chambers with vampire strength and patience to suit their needs. Over the years, they had taken in a number of wandering vampires, until they now counted nearly three score in the coven.

Stefan padded silently into Ricard’s outer chamber—the largest cavern in the whole place, save for the immense council audience chamber. The vampire lord waited in the middle of the room, standing motionless, his arms folded across his broad chest.

Ricard was an imposing figure—tall and muscular, with long silver hair gathered by a thick leather band into a ponytail that reached down to his waist. His features were sharp and aristocratic. He wore a black silk robe cinched around his waist by a wide gold belt carved in the shape of a serpent. A similar, much smaller gold band encircled his head.

Stefan ran his fingers through his own black, shoulder-length hair. He bowed his head respectfully.

“You sent for me, my lord?”

Richard motioned to an ornate wooden bench against the far wall of the cavern. The bench’s legs and back were carved with intricate designs favored among the nobility in seventeenth and eighteenth century Europe. Wooden furniture was not all that common inside the vampire lair—most of the chambers simply made do with plain, unadorned seats and benches carved directly from the stone walls—but Ricard had brought a few pieces along with him when he left Europe. Before embarking to America, the vampire lord had been a fixture in the court of several kings, and he enjoyed having a few reminders of that time around him.

“Sit, Stefan.” Ricard’s voice was deep and melodious.

Stefan did as he was bid. The wood bench was smooth and comfortable.

Richard stepped closer, remaining on his feet.

“Someone has been feeding in our territory,” he said.

“Yes, my lord. I have sensed it also.”

When vampires fed, others of their kind could sense the feeding across great distances, especially vampires as powerful as Ricard and Stefan.

“There are two of them, I think, traveling together,” Ricard said. “They have fed four times in the last fortnight.”

“Four times, my lord?” This was even more serious than Stefan had known. “I sensed but three. The fourth must have occurred beyond my range to detect it.”

“Once, or even twice, I could let pass,” Ricard declared, “thinking they might merely be wanderers passing through. But this is too much. We cannot risk the attention they will draw. It is difficult enough to keep our own followers in check in this time of
Destiratu
.”

“I know, my lord.” 

The coven had already lost Robert, the youngest of their group, went he went rogue and left the caverns several months before. Robert had not been sensed by anyone since making two human kills in close succession, and Stefan was fairly certain the foolish young vampire had fallen to a volkaane. He did not know the volkaane had been Rave.

The vampires were always mindful of how much they fed, and they were careful to dispose of their victims in ways that would go undetected or would deflect attention toward human culprits. Such care had allowed the coven to live here in secret for several hundred years. The increased blood thirst engendered by
Destiratu
had forced them to impose even more stringent measures. No one save the seven members of the High Council—of which Stefan was the newest and youngest—was allowed to go out in groups smaller than three, lest one give in to his hunger with no companions there to restrain him. The rule had not saved Robert, who had snuck from the caverns in the middle of a bright sunny day, when vigilance was most relaxed. Ricard had taken measures to make certain such a thing would not happen again.

“What do you wish me to do, my lord?” Stefan asked.

“Take three of our brethren and find the intruders. Send them on their way. Tell them they must go fifty leagues from here, at least.”

Stefan wanted to make sure he understood his mission completely. “And if they refuse to obey?”

Ricard’s handsome face grew grim. “If they refuse, then you are to destroy them.”

Stefan rose to his feet. This was serious, indeed. For vampires to kill a fellow vampire was a rare thing. He was glad he had asked Ricard to spell it out clearly.

 “It will be done as you say, my lord.”

Stefan turned and departed from Ricard’s chamber, already thinking about possible choices to accompany him. It had to be some of the older vampires; the mission was to important to risk taking any of the younger ones, who were less able to control their impulses.

His first thought was Genevieve—she had the right combination of experience and power. Taking Genevieve meant bringing Dara along as well, because the two were virtually inseparable. That was okay with Stefan. Dara was very good at following orders and possessed strength of her own. He thought Wallace would be a good third.

His mind made up, he set off to find Genevieve and Dara.

He found them in the chamber they had shared since joining the coven well over a hundred years before. Genevieve was sitting, looking totally relaxed on a carved stone chair, while Dara stood behind her, gently combing Genevieve’s shiny black hair with an ivory comb. Genevieve was dressed in a satiny, dark purple dress; Dara’s lavender dress was shorter, tighter, and lined with black lace across the low cut top. Stefan thought it looked more like a corset than a dress. He imagined the two women had probably dressed very similarly for work back when they were human.

Genevieve and Dara had been together even before they became vampires, working as a team in a very exclusive Parisian brothel catering to members of the French nobility. The place was especially popular with patrons who possessed specialized, exotic tastes. Genevieve, with her China doll looks, had acted the part of submissive to the taller, very pretty but more severe-looking Dara, role-playing for customers who enjoyed that sort of thing. In real life, their roles had been the complete opposite.

One night, their highly imaginative and seductive ministrations caused a high-paying customer to lose all control. Unbeknownst to Genevieve and Dara, the customer was a vampire, and he quickly drained both of them of their blood. Aghast at what he had done and hoping to have his two victims serve and perform for him for all eternity, he took the necessary steps to turn them vampire. Doing so proved to be a big mistake, one he had little time to regret. Not long after their turning, Dara distracted their would-be master and Genevieve drove a wooden stake through his chest. They left Paris together soon after.

The two women looked up at Stefan’s arrival. Dara continued running the comb through Genevieve’s hair.

“What is it, Stefan?” Genevieve asked. “I can see you have something on your mind.”

“I want the two of you to accompany me outside tonight,” Stefan said. “We’ll take Wallace as well.” He explained the details of the mission.

When he was done, both women nodded their agreement. He was glad he didn’t have to make use of his authority as a Council member. He told them to meet him at the cavern entrance shortly after sunset and then set off to find Wallace.

Stefan hadn’t gone far when a female voice called his name, stopping him. The voice belonged to a young female vampire named Lily.

“I hear you are going out tonight,” she said. “I want to go with you.”

The tall, voluptuous brunette was one of Stefan’s favorites. For a time, he had even considered taking her for his consort, but then he had become enthralled by the human girl Leesa and all such thoughts ended. Even though Leesa seemed forever beyond his reach, he could not go back.

As much as he enjoyed Lily’s lusty zest, she was too excitable and impetuous for tonight’s outing, and he told her so. She softened her playful pout when he promised he would take her with him the next time he went out.

A little while later he found Wallace, a three-hundred-year-old vampire of English descent who still maintained the vestiges of his upper class London accent. Though not as powerful as Genevieve, the stolid Englishman could be counted on to follow instructions. He readily agreed to accompany Stefan on the mission.

18. NOT NICE

When Caitlin left to finish getting dressed and fixing her hair, Leesa and Cali were free to talk about the subject on both their minds—vampires. They each scooted backward on Cali’s bed until their backs rested against the wall.

“Do you think it’s vampires doing it?” Cali asked.

“I’m not sure. But it sure sounds like it could be.”

“I wonder if they’re vampires from Stefan’s coven.”

“I don’t know.” Leesa drew one leg up against her chest and wrapped her arms around her shin. “For all we know, Stefan could have done one of the killings himself.”

“You really think so?” Cali frowned, clearly troubled by the idea. “He seemed so nice.”

Leesa twisted her body around so that she was facing Cali.

“Stefan is a vampire, Cali. Never forget that. He drinks blood, sometimes from people. That’s how he survives. And don’t forget, he wanted to make me into a vampire before he would let Bradley go.” She shivered, remembering the burning cold of Stefan’s fangs as they pierced her skin. “Stefan can
be
nice, but he definitely is not nice.”

Cali pursed her lips, thinking. “He was nice to me, though. He saved me from Edwina.” She grinned and held out the back of her hand. “And he kissed my hand.”

Leesa smiled back. “I know. And I’ll always be grateful for that, and for him letting Bradley go even when he failed to turn me. Stefan is honorable, in his own way, and he is certainly seductive enough. But don’t ever forget what he is. I never will.”

“Well, you know him better than I do, that’s for sure.”

Leesa nodded. She did know Stefan better. She just wondered how well she really knew him. Hopefully, he was gone from her life and it didn’t matter.

Suddenly, her vision grew misty and the room seemed to start vibrating. She rubbed her eyes, but when she removed her hands, she still couldn’t see clearly. What the heck was going on? She had never experienced anything like this. But then she remembered that she had—sort of. Her vision had grown misty just before their snowman had transformed into a vision of the Necromancer. Could this be the start of another vision? She closed her eyes.

Sure enough, images began to arise behind her eyelids. Trees first, lots of them, gray and stark, swathed in darkness. Then people, six of them, all dressed in black, nearly invisible in the night. Four facing off against the other two. No, wait…they weren’t people. They were vampires—all six of them. Leesa was sure of it. She tried to see their faces, but they were cloaked in blackness. All she could tell was that the foursome was made up of two males and two females, and the pair was one of each. She had no idea what was happening, but she could feel the tension between the two groups. She wished she could hear what they were saying, but the vision had no sound at all.

“Are you all right?”

Finally, a sound. She struggled to see which of the vampires was speaking, until she realized the voice did not come from her vision. She felt a hand on her thigh.

She opened her eyes to see Cali staring at her with concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Leesa mumbled.

“You got all spaced out again, like in the courtyard the other day.”

Leesa suddenly remembered Dominic’s instructions about her dreams. Maybe this vision was something similar. She had to try.

“I’m fine,” she told Cali. “But I have to close my eyes again for a bit. Don’t worry. And don’t disturb me, please.”

“Okay.” Cali leaned back and grinned. “Unless you start having a seizure or something—then I’m waking your ass up.”

Leesa smiled and closed her eyes.
Breathe
, she told herself, using her trigger word. She felt herself begin to enter the familiar hyper relaxed state and began concentrating on the image she had just envisioned. It was still dark, but now the night was a little less black. Her vantage point had changed, too. She now stood between the two groups, facing the pair. Apparently, no one could see her, though.

She studied the male vampire in front of her, trying to see his features. A tiny gold ring glinted in the center of his hood, but she could not see his face. She was puzzled—the night was bright enough now that she should have been able to see him. She looked harder and realized his skin was black, blacker than any skin she had ever seen. Now that she was aware of his color, she could vaguely make out his features—broad nose, thick lips, smooth skin. She had never seen him before, in real life or in a vision. Turning her head toward his companion, she saw a pale-skinned female, also unknown to her.

From behind, a voice said “You must leave this area.” The voice seemed familiar. She turned and found herself looking at Stefan. A brief glimpse at his companions told her she did not know any of them.

In her mind, she stepped back so she could see both Stefan and the black vampire. She sensed something different about the black one, an added darkness that had nothing to do with his skin.

“It is you who should leave,” the black vampire said to Stefan.

Leesa could almost taste the danger in the air. She thought the threat might be more to Stefan than to the black vampire, but before she could be sure, the vision vanished.

She opened her eyes. Dominic had been right. Her second seeing of the vision had not only been clearer, but somehow she was utterly certain she had seen something that had not yet happened, but that still might. And if it did, she was pretty sure it would happen soon. She did not know how she knew those things, only that she did. The only problem was she had no idea what she could do about it, or even if she should try. This seemed to be a matter between vampires. So why had the vision come to her? Despite her improved skills, she still felt helpless.