A Stone-Kissed Sea

  “Alitea?”

  Kato smiled. “Athens. The council doesn’t actually meet in the city, of course. That would be too common for them. My former seat is on a hidden island in the Aegean Sea. The island is called Alitea.”

  “A hidden island?” Makeda asked. “How do you hide an island in a place like Greece?”

  “In plain sight, of course. Gold and the right connections help. From the sea, Alitea looks like nothing more than inhospitable rocks.”

  “Rocks where you will rule again.” Lucien walked toward them, greeting Kato with two kisses to his cheeks. “Greetings, Theio.”

  “Lucien, any news?”

  He shook his head. “Makeda is expected?”

  “We have announced her as a new immortal under your aegis and my current protégée,” Kato said. “Nothing more was said, though I’m sure with that bite some assumptions will be made.”

  “Good.” Lucien straightened his cuff. “And Ziri?”

  “Is here, but we haven’t seen him yet.”

  Makeda had barely found her footing or been shown her private quarters before Saba’s retinue was called to the entryway and given escort into the night. A million stars littered the night sky as they walked across another elaborately tiled courtyard, this one open to the night air. More fountains bubbled, and brass torches lit the path to the glowing hall in the distance. Saba’s guards walked first, then Saba with Kato a step behind. Lucien followed him, and he nudged Makeda to walk at his side.

  “Next to me,” he said quietly. “I want you seen as my equal even though you are under my aegis.”

  “Is that wise?”

  “Yes.”

  Makeda caught a hint of human blood in the distance, but it was moving away, not coming closer. The tension at the back of her throat died down, and her eyes rose to the intricate stone arch they walked through. Embroidered silk curtains parted before them, and they walked into a room lit with candlelight and fragrant with roses.

  At once, dozens of vampires knelt down on either side of a flower-strewn pathway between two rows of tables. At the end of the room, a woman rose to her feet and stepped down from a dais with a black-clad figure at her side.

  “Saba,” the vampire said, her voice rising as stringed instruments fell silent. “Queen mother of all immortals, you and your people are welcome at my table.”

  Makeda watched the woman draw closer. She was delicately built and draped in a silk caftan as rich as Saba’s.

  “Kato, blood of the ancient sea and father of my line”—she inclined her head—“you are welcome at my table.”

  Inaya’s skin was pale with dusky gold undertones. Her black hair was braided and pinned in the front but fell to her waist behind her. Her dark eyes were lined with kohl, and jewels glittered in her ears, on her neck, and at her nose.

  Saba said, “Inaya, daughter of Lagides, regent of Libya and the upper Nile, we thank you for your welcome.” She looked around at the bowed vampires around her. “Your people honor us with their greeting.” Then Saba strode forward to the black-clad man. “No bow from you, old friend?”

  The voice that spoke from the shadows said, “When have you ever needed a bow to be queen?”

  Saba laughed and Inaya joined her. Their hostess clapped her hands and the musicians started again.

  “We feast!” she called out. Then Inaya’s dark eyes turned to Makeda as human servants burst through side doors and flooded from the corners of the room.

  ❖

  “She is such a bitch!” Makeda hissed as Lucien locked the door behind Kato. They were in a small room off the main hall where Lucien had taken Makeda after the entrance of the human servants. Makeda had stopped breathing as soon as she smelled them. Kato and Lucien had rushed her into the isolated room. Inaya had even come in a few moments later with a feigned apology that left Lucien fuming and Kato unamused.

  Makeda, through it all, remained utterly silent and completely stoic. She didn’t breathe. She didn’t speak. She barely even blinked. Inaya might have been a four-hundred-year-old vampire, but she was also the same as every childhood tormenter Makeda had ever faced. She was looking for a reaction, and Makeda refused to give it to her.

  It was only after Kato had left with Inaya that Makeda let her temper fly.

  “Bitch,” she said again. “Petty, shit-starting—”

  “She can probably hear you outside,” Lucien said.

  “I don’t care. Bitch.”

  Lucien bit back a smile and pulled Makeda onto his lap, falling into a low couch in the corner of the room. He propped his chin on her shoulder and said, “You handled that extremely well.”

  “She’s a bitch.”

  “She wanted to amuse herself. If you’d bitten one of the humans, it would have been a faux pas. As it is, you didn’t, which only makes Saba and Kato look more impressive. Everyone in her court knows you’re practically a newborn. The fact that you maintained control—even if you had to leave the room—only makes you look good and Inaya look petty.”

  “Because she’s a petty bitch.”

  “She’s actually quite amusing, but she has an odd sense of humor.” He nuzzled her neck. “This worked out rather well for me. I get you on my lap, smelling delicious and looking polished as a jewel. I don’t have to sit through the protocol. And I can just meet everyone for the private dinner later to negotiate business.”

  “Private dinner?”

  He waved a hand toward the door. “This is all for show. Half the vampires out there know next to nothing about politics. They are favored children or visiting business acquaintances invited to share the spectacle of a royal visit. The real business will happen afterward.”

  “Do I need to be there for it?”

  “Yes. Otherwise, you will look like the petty one.”

  Makeda fought back the urge to grumble and focused on the pleasant feeling of Lucien’s arms wrapped around her. She carefully took deep breaths of the human-tinged air, forcing herself to become desensitized to the draw of it. Lucien didn’t try to interrupt or ask what she was doing.

  Within half an hour, her fangs had retracted, her heart had calmed, and she sat quietly on Lucien’s lap, breathing in the laced air and feeling nothing more than hunger pangs she could ignore with enough focus.

  “You’re amazing,” he murmured.

  “No, just stubborn.”

  “You don’t forget lessons.”

  Makeda thought of the childhood tears, the culture shock, and the isolation. “Not even if I try.”

  He kissed her neck. “I’m so glad you’re here with me,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

  Her heart turned dangerously soft.

  He can hurt you! A frightened voice whispered in the darkness of her mind. Lucien’s soft wounds would be more violent than the twisted metal that had taken her life.

  She turned her head and put her lips against the bruise on his neck, grounding herself in his taste and scent.

  Yes, he could hurt her. But she could hurt him too.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Lucien found Makeda and Inaya sitting in Saba’s courtyard. Makeda was staring silently at Inaya with that maddeningly blank look she’d often worn when Lucien first knew her.

  Inaya was clearly fascinated. “You’re very beautiful.” She leaned toward Makeda. “Can I kiss you? I would give you such pleasure, young one. What would you like to try? Another woman? Two men? Come visit my harem and take your pleasure where you will.”

  Makeda blinked but said nothing as she sipped the fragrant tea that had been served with honeyed almonds and dried fruit after the dinner.

  Lucien sat next to Makeda, keeping his hands to himself as he stared at Inaya. “Hello, Inaya.”

  “She’s covered in your scent,” Inaya purred. “A stunning woman, Lucien.”

  “She’s also quite capable of hearing you.”

  Inaya raised her eyebrows. “And? If she wants to speak, she’ll speak.”

  “Why the stunt at dinner?”
br />   “I was bored.” Inaya looked back to Makeda. Lucien could hardly blame her. With her hair twisted back from her sculpted face and her curls spread out in a wild crown of gold, brown, and black coils, Makeda was resplendent. Her impassive expression and silence only made her more regal. They were waiting for Saba, Ziri, and Kato to confer privately before they joined the others for tea and sweets.

  “Your proclivities are so well-known,” Inaya said, “that if I didn’t smell your blood in her, I wouldn’t believe she was your lover.” The water vampire leaned in and let out a long sigh. “Delicious. I want to taste her, but I know I can’t.”

  “I’d say don’t even think about it, but clearly you already have,” he muttered.

  “It would be like taking both of you as lovers,” Inaya said. “One bite and I’d have you at the same time. You gave her your blood to tease me, didn’t you? You know I’ve always wanted to taste you.”

  Makeda turned dark eyes toward Lucien with an expression that clearly questioned Inaya’s sanity. Is she serious? Makeda’s eyes seemed to say.

  Lucien tried not to laugh, mentally cursing Makeda’s reserve. He wanted to kiss her so badly, but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate the attention in public.

  Inaya’s coquetry was why Lucien didn’t understand those willingly involved in politics. Inaya was as keen a player as any of her peers. The four-hundred-year-old immortal was a shrewd businesswoman and a skillful warrior, but she practiced flattery the same way she had in the human courts where she’d been raised. It must have remained effective, or she wouldn’t play the game.

  Lucien preferred microbes to manipulation.

  “Keep your fangs to yourself, Inaya. Makeda is neither your plaything nor mine. Besides being under my aegis, Kato is her mentor. Surely you wouldn’t anger the old gods.”

  Inaya rolled her eyes. “If Ziri has taught me anything, it is that the ancients are very far from gods.”

  A roll of the earth under their feet signaled Saba’s entrance. The three of them rose as Lucien’s mother came into the room.

  “You’re speaking of Ziri and Kato only, I’m sure,” Saba said to Inaya. “Greetings, daughter, and thank you for the excellent meal. Your hospitality is nearly flawless.” Saba glanced at Makeda, then back at Inaya. “Nearly.”

  Inaya bowed her head, accepting the chastisement, but Lucien saw the edge of a smile on the woman’s face. Inaya was still playing.

  “Are your quarters adequate, Mother?”

  “They are. Makeda, are your quarters sufficient?” Saba asked Makeda directly. “And have you fed?”

  Sparks flashed in Inaya’s eyes. She didn’t like Saba questioning her hospitality.

  Makeda said, “Lucien made sure I was taken care of, Saba.”

  “Good.” Saba sank onto a silken pillow. Kato sat beside her. Ziri didn’t sit but leaned against a pillar behind them both. “Inaya, I suspect you know why I am here.”

  Inaya inclined her head. “I wouldn’t presume to guess your purpose, Mother. I am only honored by your presence in my home so soon after your previous visit.”

  “Kato?” Saba nodded to him. “Inaya is a queen of your line. Would you like to start?”

  “I am taking Alitea back,” Kato said simply. “I ask for your pledge this night, Inaya, daughter of Lagides, or I will destroy you and erase your line from the face of the earth.”

  The announcement dropped like a rock in still water, but Inaya’s face remained impassive.

  After a long moment, she said, “Should I be insulted, my king, that you would question my loyalty? Am I a servant of Athens, bowing and scraping before a council that feeds only their own hunger?”

  Kato didn’t budge. “Will you give me your pledge, Inaya?”

  “You have my pledge, great king. I am your servant in this matter.” She bowed from the waist, and when she rose, the calculation returned to her eyes. “But let me be your valuable servant, Kato, for I am no weak leader.”

  Kato smiled indulgently “What is your request, daughter? Your loyalty was given without question, and that will be remembered.”

  “Let me continue to serve you as a faithful regent. For no other has held this territory and made our kind prosper as I have.”

  Kato’s eyes narrowed. “Your immortal population prospers. What of your humans?”

  “A work in progress, my king, for they are a weak race and vulnerable to manipulation,” Inaya said smoothly. “But as I continue to prosper, so shall they.”

  Kato made a pretense of considering her request, but both Kato and Inaya knew that Kato had no desire to rule North Africa. He would be busy with other matters in Athens.

  “I will allow you to serve me in this manner, Inaya, daughter of Lagides, and I will leave you to my trusted son, Lucien Thrax, to negotiate the details of our partnership.” Kato rose and held out his hand. Inaya knelt before him and kissed it. Then Kato turned to Ziri. “A word with you, my brother?”

  “Of course.”

  The deferential mask Inaya wore slipped as the two ancient vampires departed, leaving Lucien, Makeda, Saba, and Inaya on their own.

  “That was unexpected,” Inaya said to Saba as she rose to her feet and went back to her pillow.

  Saba shrugged. “What did you expect me to do?”

  “I expected death and destruction,” Inaya said. “I expected volcanoes and earthquakes swallowing continents.”

  “Would you prefer that to conquest?” Saba asked.

  “I said this was unexpected, not unwelcome.”

  Lucien found himself wondering what Inaya and his mother had spoken of during their previous visit. Clearly, Inaya knew some change was coming. It made her provocation of Makeda even more confusing. But then Inaya had always loved being contradictory.

  Inaya said, “You’ve clearly decided to take control of the Elixir problem.”

  “Lucien and Makeda have found a cure,” Saba said.

  “What?” Inaya’s eyes went sharp.

  Lucien added, “But there are conditions.”

  Inaya ignored Lucien and turned to Makeda. “You have found a cure?”

  “Yes.” Makeda spoke simply and directly.

  “How?”

  “It’s linked to my previous research in thalassemia and other human-specific inherited blood disorders affecting hemoglobin,” Makeda said. “Do you truly want the details?”

  “Not really.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  And yet not once did Inaya seem to doubt Makeda’s confident assertions. It was… rather brilliant actually. Lucien wondered if Makeda had planned it. By remaining silent—during the dinner, amid the chaos of bloodlust, in the face of Inaya’s outrageous flirtation—Makeda had ensured that when she spoke, others would listen. She was no flatterer. No silver-tongued politician. Inaya believed her immediately.

  “As I said, there are conditions,” Lucien said.

  “I imagine the cost for the cure will be steep,” Inaya said. “Don’t fear, vampires will pay it. We are already paying a fortune for the testing kits.”

  “And you’ll need to keep ordering them,” Lucien said. He’d already conferred with his mother on how they would present the treatment. It was best that details weren’t mentioned until vampires agreed to Saba’s terms. “Elixir will never go away, though wide-spread production will be halted as soon as Kato takes control of Alitea.”

  “Laskaris,” Inaya hissed. “I knew he was spreading it. I just didn’t have proof.”

  Saba said, “I am no human court to demand evidence and testimony. Be assured Kato and I will rid the world of Laskaris’s factories, but there is no guarantee that another will not try to profit from this drug. Remain vigilant.”

  “But you have a cure.” Inaya pointed at Makeda. “She said so.”

  Lucien said, “Humans infected with the Elixir virus—”

  “I don’t care about the humans.” Inaya waved her hand. “We can control them. What of vampires?”

  Lucien bit back
the retort that threatened and turned to Saba. “Mother?”

  “They will come to me,” Saba said. “Any vampire who needs the cure will come to me.”

  Inaya’s eyes narrowed. “And you will cure them?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “By making them mine.”

  Inaya’s fangs dropped, and Lucien realized she must have someone in her court affected by Elixir. None of her children or she would cure them herself, but there was someone.

  “We cannot be reborn to another sire,” Inaya said. “Others have tried. It is not possible to break the blood tie even when a sire is no longer living.”

  Saba said, “It is possible when it is me. Do you question my power, daughter?”

  Inaya calmed. “Of course not.”

  “Those who want to be healed have one option,” Lucien said. “Saba. If they submit to her, she will heal them. It is the only way they will survive.”

  “Some will choose death before submission.”

  “That is their choice,” Saba said. “But if they reject my offer, they must expect a swift death. I will not have this plague spread by ignorance.”

  Only Lucien noticed Makeda’s flinch.

  “I understand,” Inaya said. “But know that not every leader will allow a vampire—particularly a valuable one—to submit to another’s aegis. It will depend on the immortal’s connections. Some of the most powerful would be killed rather than lost to a new master.”

  “So be it,” Saba said. “But they must know their new elders will not abide their presence if it puts others at risk.”

  Lucien said, “There has been little to no encroachment of Elixir in the East, Inaya. Do you know why that is?”

  “Does it matter if I know,” Inaya asked, “when you seem so keen to tell me?”

  “It’s because the elders of Penglai kill any human or vampire affected by it,” he said softly. “Quietly. Immediately. That is how they have contained this disease.”

  Inaya was silent.

  “The word of Kato and Saba’s plan will spread from this place,” Lucien said. “See that those who carry such rumors understand the consequences of defiance.”