Night's End

Chapter 5

The maid who opened the door recognized me. She’d been there the night Lannan brought me back to heal me from Crawl’s last attack. When the Blood Fever had taken me in thrall, I’d needed sex—rough and wild and as feral as I could get, and only Lannan could offer me the intensity that would shake the fever loose from my system.

She ushered us into the mansion. The great hall had taken on some renovations, though it still sported the sweeping staircase to the upper floors, nestled between two halls that ran the depth of the mansion. Large, luxurious rooms veered off from the hallways. We’d been in two of them. I’d been in one other room in the house—Lannan’s suite, though I doubted it was where he slept during the day.

To either side of the staircase spiraled massive, heavily pruned junipers, sculpted into coiling snakes that gazed over the hallways in their glistening green finery. Marble benches and tables made of heavy dark wood lined the walls at intervals, and the floor was polished tile, gleaming so brightly that I could see my reflection in it. I’d hate to be on the cleaning crew for the Regent’s mansion—it was expected to remain spotless and meticulously groomed. As were most of the vampires making their home here.

I motioned to the maid as another servant took Luna, Ysandra, Peyton, and Kaylin’s coats. Pressing a note into her hand that I’d prepared while still in the car, I whispered, “Please, give this to the Emissary now—before we’re shown into her office.”

The maid glanced at me, quizzically, but simply curtseyed. “I’ll be back for you in a moment,” she said to everyone. “Please be seated while I make certain the Emissary is prepared to receive you.” She tapped away down the hall, her kitten heels tattooing a quick beat against the floor.

We waited a moment—then two, before she returned. “Please follow me.” And she led us down the left hall to the office of the governing Regent.

Behind the heavy double doors, Lannan and Regina were waiting for us. Regina was sitting behind the desk; Lannan was sprawled in a chair next to it.

Twins with hair as golden as sunlight, spun straight and silky, the pair were as depraved as they were gorgeous. Regina was statuesque, curving in all the right places, and she wore a red pantsuit with a black corset beneath the blazer. Her hair was swept up into its usual chignon, and sparkling rubies studded her ears. Lannan, on the other hand, had hair that swept past his shoulders, and he wore black leather pants, tight and formfitting—showing off every attribute he had. He had on a brilliant blue button-down shirt, open to the naval, and an ornate black leather vest.

They were true vampires—not Vampiric Fae, but truly the living dead. Their eyes were black as pitch, but no stars swirled within, and they ruled the town, even though there was an ostensible city council.

As a pair, they were stunning.

Lannan stared at me, his eyes taking me in with one sweep. I blushed—I couldn’t help it. He was obsessed with me, and I’d been bound to him by a contract until I was chosen to transform into the Queen of Snow and Ice. I’d knelt at his feet, forced to grovel and beg him to humiliate me. Vampires had glamour, and most of them didn’t care what their chosen subjects felt. They were top-of-the-food-chain predators, and they knew it and used it, although there existed a delicate balance between the governments of the Vampire Nation and those of the yummanii and the magic-born.

“Your Majesty, please be seated.” Lannan stood and gave me an exaggerated flourish of a bow. While technically showing respect, I knew he was goading me. Ever since he’d fucked the Blood Fever out of my system, his obsession with me had grown.

“Brother . . .” The cautionary note in Regina’s voice echoed through the room. While Lannan might be Regent, his sister was the Emissary, and her word held sway over everyone in the Vampire Nation, save for the Crimson Queen herself.

“I’ll behave myself. Don’t get your bun in a twist.” Lannan motioned for us to sit down. “Please, be seated.”

I paused, wondering how this would unfold. My note to Regina had asked her to please find something to occupy the others while Rhiannon, Grieve, Chatter, and I talked to her in private.

But Regina was smooth. She stood. “I have official business to discuss with the Courts of Fae before we all make ourselves comfortable. My servants will escort the rest of you to the drawing room, where you will find tea and refreshments. While you are there, perhaps Luna can look over the arrangement on the piano. I’ve attempted my hand at a composition. While I’m pleased with it, I would welcome your input on ways in which to strengthen the intermezzo. Your musical eye would be highly appreciated here.”

Luna blinked, clearly surprised. “Of course, Emissary.”

“Thank you. I respect your skill.” Regina smiled at her, a cunning beautiful grin that was hard to resist.

I blinked. “You play piano?” I don’t know why this surprised me. But after I thought about it, it seemed like a skill I’d expect Regina to have.

“I have played for well over two hundred years and am fairly accomplished, but I’ve never before attempted my own composition.” She smiled at me, her fangs showing ever so slightly.

Luna looked a little puzzled, but she motioned to the others. Warily, they edged out of the room, following the maid.

Once they were gone and the door closed behind them, Regina turned to me. “You needed a private audience?”

“I did, but we needed to bring the others, to have them here on the estate, in case you agree to what I’m about to ask.” Here I paused. What I was about to ask was turning me into a traitor to Kaylin, but once again, my heart told me there was no other way.

Lannan searched my face. “What weighs so heavily on the Ice Queen’s heart?” Again, his words were punctuated with just a hint of snideness—a soupçon of snark.

With a glance at Rhiannon, who nodded, I launched into what we had learned, and what we needed to ask. By the time I finished, Regina was staring at me, jaw slightly open. Lannan was shaking his head.

“That crown truly has changed you. How does it feel, now, to be on my side of the tracks? To play the sadist—for you know that’s what this will end up being, should we agree?” He let out a faint snort. “Sweet Cicely, you truly do have a heart of ice now, don’t you?”

I wanted to slap him but held myself in check. A quick glance at Grieve told me he was close to doing the same. My wolf shifted and growled, and I knew Grieve was pissed out of his mind.

Regina, however, simply sat there, as pale as porcelain. She folded her hands together on the desk. “You’re truly serious about this? You would have us take the night-veil to Crawl? To let the seer peer into his heart and future to see if he’s loyal?”

I bit my lip, wanting to hang my head. But Lainule had taught me well, and I forced myself to meet her gaze. “Yes. We have to know. Then he can test our other friends. There is far too much at stake to risk putting our trust in anyone unless we know for sure that trust is warranted. We know you will not side with Myst—it’s inborn in your nature to go against the Vampiric Fae.”

And truth was I was right.

Eons ago, Geoffrey, before he had taken the name Geoffrey, had attempted to turn the Fae of the Unseelie Court. He had taken Myst down, drank her to death’s door then fed her his blood, hoping she would turn when she died and come back to life. But Myst had not died.

Instead, she regenerated at a vastly increased rate of healing, and along with her own dark powers, she now possessed the powers of the vampire, along with others that had developed out of the unholy union. The whole idea had been a conspiracy between the pair, but once Myst found herself growing more powerful than Geoffrey, she had cast him aside as she turned others of her kind.

The Vampiric Fae fed on life force and body, as well as blood, and they evolved into the Shadow Hunters: ruthless killing machines. Worst of all—the Vampiric Fae could breed. With no more need for Geoffrey’s help, Myst turned against the vampires, creating her own empire. And eventually I had been born, her daughter Cherish, and we came to the New World in search of land in which to breed, and conquer.

Now, the Vampiric Fae had grown strong, and they were rising, not only to fulfill a long-prophesized war against the vampires, but to spread their disease throughout the land. Turning the magic-born and Fae as they went, they set out to enslave the yummanii and the magic-born as their cattle, and to destroy the balance between Summer and Winter.

Regina glanced at Lannan, who gave her a subtle nod. “We can do this thing,” she said, “but it will require a price. You know the Blood Oracle requires a sacrifice of—”

“Of blood. I remember. I will pay it.” I hated the thought of seeing him again. He’d almost killed me. He’d had more of my blood than I ever wanted to give him, and the thought of coming into close contact with him again gave me the creeps. What if he managed to catch hold of me again? What if he tried to finish the job he’d started?

Grieve must have caught my fear because he stood. “I will go with her. I will not allow her to go there alone.”

I turned to him. “You can’t. We can’t afford to chance both of our lives. The Barrow must have guidance.”

“You are the heart of the Barrow, so if anyone remains behind, it must be you.” Grieve’s eyes gleamed in the dim light of the shadowed room. Outside, the snow fell silently, blanketing the already whitened lawn.

I turned to Regina. “He’ll demand my blood, won’t he?”

She nodded, a solemn look spreading across her face. “None other will do. I know the Blood Oracle too well. He is . . . unswerving. You escaped him. Now he thirsts for you—to drink you up and leave you a shallow husk. Like all spiders, his thirst never abates. But once we caught him after Geoffrey and Leo set him free, we keep him on a short leash. There is no way to fully guarantee your safety, but we will do as much as we can to keep you from harm.”

Lannan, for a change, turned serious, and the smarmy look vanished. “Definitely. Regina will guide you there. If I go with her, it may set him off. He remembers that I freed you from his grasp, and he’s not taken it well. The Blood Oracle would as soon drink me down as he would you. I am now his enemy.”

I hadn’t expected that, but it made sense. Crawl might put the true vampires above everything, but if someone crossed him, I had no doubt that he would waste no time in eradicating them if at all possible.

“So, by saving me, you put yourself at odds with the Blood Oracle. I’m truly sorry about that.” And for once, I meant it.

The politics of the Crimson Court were complex, a minefield of hazards. This could make it dicey for Lannan if Crawl had supporters who might not appreciate Lannan rescuing someone who wasn’t a vampire. However, the fact that I was the Fae Queen, and that he had managed to avoid a dispute between the Fae Courts and the Vampire Nation probably swayed opinion to his side more than anything else.

Lannan caught my gaze, holding it. “Do you think I care what anyone thinks about me?”

“That’s precisely why the Crimson Queen questions your ability as Regent,” Regina said, walking behind him. She stopped to cuff him lightly on the head. He snarled at her, showing his fangs, and she laughed. I had the feeling this was foreplay between them.

“Then she should choose someone better for the job. I never once expressed an interest in wearing this hat. I much prefer my job as professor at the New Forest Conservatory.” He arched one eyebrow at me. “All those lovely young coeds, both magic-born and vampire. But none, none can hold a candle to the Queen of Ice.”

Grieve stiffened. I could feel his reaction through my wolf, but he said nothing. Truth was Lannan was to thank for me still being alive, and we both knew and accepted the ugly truth. We owed the vampire a favor, and Lannan knew it as well.

“Back to the subject at hand. When can we go? And Kaylin doesn’t have a clue about this. We didn’t dare take a chance, just in case—”

“Just in case the night-veil demon is your spy. Of course.” Regina motioned to Lannan. “You will summon the man. Leave the others where they are and make certain they are protected.”

“As you wish.” Lannan slipped out of the room, softly shutting the door behind him.

Regina followed him out the door with her gaze, then brought her attention back to us. “Rhiannon, you and both consorts will remain here. Cicely and I will take Kaylin to the Blood Oracle. Check, you may come as your Queen’s guard, but you will obey me. Do you understand? If I say jump, you jump. If I say drop down on the floor—”

“I will drop. Yes, Emissary.” Check snapped to attention, clicking his heels together smartly as he straightened his shoulders.

The fact that Regina addressed neither of us by our title didn’t bother me, and I knew it didn’t irk Rhiannon, either. Regina had known us both before our coronations, and somehow, rebuking the Emissary to the Crimson Court for overlooking a few words would just be borrowing trouble. There was no disrespect in her voice, and I doubted any was meant.

As she finished speaking, Lannan reentered the room, Kaylin in tow. I caught my breath, wondering how the fuck we were going to explain what was about to happen. We couldn’t just drag him along with us and then throw him to the wolves, so to speak.

Regina took care of that problem. She motioned for Kaylin to take his place in front of her. “Kaylin, I’m afraid we have a problem.”

He looked at her, a quizzical expression on his face. “Have I done something to offend you?” While a faint smile played on his face, a feral light flickered in his eyes. With his demon fully emerged, Kaylin had turned into a highly dangerous adversary, though there was no way to know just how powerful he would become as he evolved.

The Emissary shook her head. “No, you haven’t. I think, perhaps, the best tactic to take is the truth. Cicely, you do owe him an explanation, considering what we are about to undertake.”

I dreaded the thought, but she was right. How could I ask him to undergo Crawl’s scrutiny without knowing why? And if he was the spy, and tried to bolt now, then we’d be able to stop him. But . . .

“What if there’s a mind link?” I asked Regina. “What if . . . what I fear turns out to be true and there’s a link there?”

“Good point. That, however, we can solve simply enough.” She took hold of Kaylin’s arm. “Check, Cicely, follow us.”

Kaylin, looking confused now, allowed Regina to lead him over to the bookshelf. Check followed close behind, ready to stop him should he try to turn on us. If Kaylin was the spy, he either didn’t suspect anything or was furiously plotting what might happen next.

Lannan pressed a book on the bookshelf behind the desk. A secret door slid open to reveal a passageway lit by a dim light. We passed into a room where a table sat in the center, and a single bulb hanging from the ceiling illuminated the space. On the table—which was shaped like an octagon—a crystal hovered above a two-inch-thick crimson block of glass.

As soon as the door slid closed behind us, Regina let go of Kaylin and motioned for us to gather around the table. Still looking bewildered, Kaylin did as asked. Check stood next to him on one side, Regina on the other. I stood opposite him.

“Here, you may tell him. We are between worlds now, and I doubt if any message could reach through the veils.” She nodded at me.

“Tell me what?” Kaylin was beginning to look worried.

“Kaylin, I’m so sorry. But we have . . . I have . . .” I paused, uncertain how to verbalize my thoughts, but then they spilled out of their own accord. “I have to do something that’s going to be horrible. I have no choice.” In a flood of words, I told him what we were doing and why.

The expression on his face passed from angry to incredulous, and then—resigned. “I understand.”

I didn’t want to look into his eyes, to see the betrayal that had to be lurking there, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. I owed him that much.

To my surprise, Kaylin seemed calm and collected. “I understand,” he repeated. “You have a spy in your Court; you must find out who it is. Your shamans can’t perform their rituals on us, so—”

“This is the only way,” I finished.

“We are so far past being able to trust anyone’s word. Look at what Anadey did. To you. To Peyton, her own daughter.”

And then I realized that he really did understand, and that almost made me feel worse. I would have felt better if he’d yelled or screamed or cussed me out. But instead, he stood there stoically, and it made me almost want to say, “Forget it, I trust you.” But I couldn’t take the chance.

“Yes . . . so, when Crawl verifies you are what I believe you to be—a trustworthy friend—then we will have you examine Peyton, Luna, and Ysandra. I know how you feel about Luna, but . . .”

Kaylin had fallen hard for the bard, and I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy thing for him to delve into her mind. And I knew what he saw there might not sit well. Luna cared for him, but she was wary—not willing to dive off the cliff, romantic though she might seem to be.

Kaylin made no move to try to escape. Instead, he turned to Regina. “Tell me what to do. I will listen. I’ve no desire to have Crawl any closer to me than need be, so let’s get this over with.”

And with that Regina traced some sort of symbol over the crystal then said, “Hold hands.” She took Kaylin’s hand in her right, mine in her left. Kaylin reached for Check, and I completed the circle by holding my guard’s hand. As the world began to spin, twirling like a Tilt-a-Whirl, everything fell away, and a rush of wind swept us into the churning slipstream of time.

Time went whistling past, the centuries turning back—or perhaps we were moving sideways, hopping realities as the creak of trees echoed in the howl around us, and the scent of smoke from burning wood swirled to surround us. A shadow of spiders crept past, on tiptoe, and I wanted to whimper. Then a flurry as a murder of crows rose up and vanished through the turbulent currents.

We traveled between worlds, through portals in a way unlike the Twin Oaks and the Twin Hollies. Those portals shifted us, body and soul, through a crackle of electricity. This vortex swept us up and cast us to the raging winds, letting them buffet us against the jutting rocks of the static-filled ocean, bruising our psyches until—with one final howl—the winds dropped and we were standing in a gigantic chamber, dimly lit and echoing with every sound, every breath.

We were around a table identical to the one in the secret room back at the mansion. I slowly turned, all too aware of where I was.

Regina waved us toward her. “Follow me and do not step off the path or you will not live long enough to regret it. When we come to Crawl, do not speak directly to him. Do not answer him. Answer me if he asks you a question, and let me take the lead. Do you understand?”

Kaylin and Check both nodded. I already knew the drill. We set off, behind Regina, following single file. Kaylin walked behind her, then me, then Check.

Thirty feet high, the ceilings loomed overhead, painted to mimic stained glass, with portraits of battle and sex, a glorious beatitude in vivid color to the art and consequence of war. Below the ceiling, a rich, crimson wallpaper covered the chamber, and the light source remained hidden, but dim light flickered through the room. Marble benches lined the walls, their feet lost in a heavy mist that wisped along the floor in scattered strands.

The floor was, as I remembered it, a grid of magical symbols. A narrow pathway led through the etched tiles. Tuscan gold in the center with thick black border lines, each of the blank panels was a safe place to step. I remembered enough to know the magical runes engraved on the rest were to destroy the unwary. Setting foot off the path was painting a bull’s-eye on your forehead.

As we neared the front of the chamber, my heart leaped into my throat. There, a dais ran the width of the room, about five feet high. Regina lithely jumped up onto the platform and took a look around. Then she turned back and motioned for Kaylin to join her. He scrambled up as Regina offered me a hand. Check simultaneously hopped up to join us.

I quickly glanced around, on high alert. And there, about ten feet away, crouched Crawl, the vampire of my nightmares.

Twisted and bent in a low squat, Crawl was near a cushioned seat, but he ignored it as he sniffed the air. He was an insect, a walking stick, with skin that had been blackened and crisped. His face was wet with rivulets of blood. Viscous and sticky, they trickled down his jowls. A swollen tongue snaked out from his mouth, hideously long, to flick at the droplets as they neared his chin. His eyes were black as night—vampire’s eyes, yes, but the lids had long ago been burned away, and his gaze was hollow.

Yet I had the feeling he could see through me to my insides, see my bones and blood and muscle and sinew. When I’d first encountered him, he’d had clumps of matted hair, but now his head was smooth, and that made him look even more alien.

I glanced to the left, and yes, there was the fountain I remembered. It bubbled brightly with blood, echoing with the merry sound of splashing. A circle of flames surrounded the font, and it was from here that Crawl drank, forever burning himself to reach the sweet blood he craved. It seemed terribly sadistic of the vampires—to punish their oracle by making his food so painful to reach—but the ways of the Crimson Court eluded me, even though I was beginning to understand the need for authority to bear a certain ruthlessness . . . even cruelty at times.

Crawl let out a slow hiss and leaped toward me, but then, as I stumbled back, he stopped short. It was then that I saw the iron chain around his neck. It blended in with his skin, and it gave him a certain amount of leeway while keeping him at bay. He could reach his fountain, and his cushioned seat, which was large enough to sleep on, but he could not reach me.

He let out a garbled shout as rage and disappointment filled his face, but it passed as quickly as it had come. “Regina, Regina. My wayward child and lovely daughter of the vein. Your brother is forbidden in my presence, you know.”

“This is known and accepted. Lannan is not with me. I come seeking information. I bring you sweet offering in return for your sight. This matter concerns the Vampire Nation . . . the Crimson Court, in a peripheral manner.” She slid a narrow dagger out from a sheath hidden at her ankle.

“The only offering the Blood Oracle accepts from you is the sweet blood of Cicely. Such a sweet, warm taste. I would have it from her neck.” He licked his lips, looking at me. I turned, trying to avoid his gaze.

Regina cleared her throat. “The Blood Oracle remembers what the Crimson Queen has decreed, does he not? For escaping from your prison, you may not press lips against flesh. I will give you her blood, but in the offering font, and only with your promise to read the omens and seek the answers.”

I stole a glance at Kaylin. He had never encountered Crawl—not up close. Kaylin had been wounded during the last battle and had not been there to see the Blood Oracle attack me. But he’d witnessed the aftermath in my scars.

He was staring at Crawl with a revulsion that I seldom witnessed on his face. After all, he was connected to the Bat People through his demon, and they were an odd race in themselves, alien and terrifying. But Kaylin grimaced as Crawl leered at me, licking his lips again.

“The Queen in her madness gives me no quarter, does she now, my dear daughter? You pain your father thus. . . . But you must do what you must. I will accept the pittance and be satisfied with that.” The sad, puppy-dog voice sounded contrived, a spider spinning a web. Crawl’s only pain was that he wasn’t allowed to rip me to pieces in a feeding frenzy.

Regina stared at him for a moment, then in a rare show of temper, blurted out, “Old Father, do not push me. I may carry your blood within my veins, you may be my sire, but I will not stand for this. We are facing dangers that could lead to the downfall of all, including the Crimson Court. Your personal whims and desires? They are nothing in the face of she who seeks our demise.”

Crawl blazed up, a rearing back, hissing at her, his fangs down and ready, but then he paused, and—simmering at a low boil that I could feel from where I stood—backed down.

“Very well, daughter. Make your offering, and I will do my duty and give you my sight.”

I followed her to the font as she watched to make certain Crawl stayed the distance. He moved too fast and could be on us in a heartbeat, but her warning seemed to have staved him for the moment. I hurriedly held out my hand, and she sliced deep, across my palm. I turned my hand palm down over the fountain, my arm wavering between two of the flames, and my blood spurted into the font. A moment later, Regina bade me remove my hand and then lifted it to her lips, licking it slowly, every touch of her tongue sending shudders through me. And they weren’t unpleasant.

Crawl watched with greedy eyes, and Regina quickly moved me out of his reach again. “Old Father, drink and be satisfied. Then tell us what you see.”

In a blur, the Blood Oracle was at the font, his tongue dipping into the blood as the flames licked his face. He showed no sign that the pain was hitting him, though I knew it must be. But maybe time had seared his nerve endings; maybe he simply no longer cared.

“What say you?” Regina motioned for Kaylin to come close while I moved back to stand by Check. “Old Father, look into this one—is he loyal to Cicely? To the Court of Snow and Ice? Has he pledged his help to the Indigo Court?”

Crawl cocked his head, leaning close to sniff at Kaylin. “You smell like demons, like bat guano. You smell like a cold autumn night, and like ghosts of the past. I hear spirits around you—they follow you and watch, waiting to see what you do. But . . .” A pause, while the vampire seemed to take stock.

With a shake of the head, Crawl moved back to hop up on the cushioned seat. He hunkered down, his feet on the cushion in front of him, bony knees thrusting up near his chin. “Come here, young man.”

As Kaylin approached, Crawl grabbed him by the head and pulled him close, licking him across the eyes and face. Kaylin let out a cry but went limp as the Blood Oracle’s hands held him tightly. And then, as a low beat began to resound through the chamber, Kaylin began to scream, writhing in Crawl’s embrace. But the vampire held him firmly, not biting him, but breathing on him, his gaze fastened on Kaylin’s unblinking eyes.

He twisted as Kaylin struggled, but never let go. Crawl’s voice was raspy as he sank into a trance, and the words echoed off the walls of the chamber.

“This one is no danger to our sweet Cicely. He craves nothing . . . save for one young woman. But his threads of destiny lead in a different line than hers, so hearts afire will fizzle and love will wither. However . . . there are alliances being formed, but not the ones you fear—and not ones to fear. This one . . . He is destined for great things but not in this realm. Your destiny lies in a dim and distant land, boy—so prepare to leave your home. Your destiny will plunge you into the heart of the darkness from which your demon was spawned.”

And with that Crawl curled up on the cushioned seat and turned away, falling into a silence that echoed louder than his words.