Darkness Raging
Feeling heavy of heart, I slid through the secret door that led to my lair. As I quietly descended, listening to Nerissa’s snores, another thought hit me. Maggie would have to stay with Delilah. I couldn’t take her into a lair of vampires. Camille couldn’t take her out to Talamh Lonrach Oll. And the thought that I’d have to leave the little gargoyle behind hit me like a sledgehammer. By the time I reached my lair, bloody tears were racing down my cheeks.
I crept into the bathroom and cried as softly as I could. I cried for the loved ones we’d lost. I cried because our lives were all changing and it was just hitting me how much I was going to miss the way things had been. I cried because I didn’t really want to be a vampire princess, even though I recognized just how much I would be useful in that position.
And, after I was all cried out, I washed up and then quietly crept into bed beside Nerissa. My love, my rock, the woman who made my life joyous instead of just bearable. She had changed me. She had rocked my world and turned it upside down. As had Smoky, Morio, and Trillian for Camille. And Shade and the Autumn Lord for Delilah.
Maybe some things were worth letting go of the past for. Maybe some changes could be good, even when they were scary. As the rising sun crept over the house, I felt its pull and—as I slid into a deep slumber—a soft, resigned peace filled my heart. Tomorrow night would be a busy evening. I hoped for easy rest and I got it. No dreams or nightmares crossed my path.
Chapter 13
The entire vampire community of Seattle seemed to be seated in the gallery below. As Nerissa and I peeked out the curtain on one of the side balconies, I realized that if the Fellowship of the Earthborn Brethren wanted to damage the vamp population, they should have attended with flamethrowers and stakes. Luckily, my guess was they didn’t know squat about what was going on.
Roman hadn’t skimped on the decorations. A thousand flowers must have filled the hall, wound round every post, formed into garlands that draped leisurely across the stage, and the smell of gardenias and lilacs filled the air. An entire symphony was positioned in the orchestra pit, playing something I didn’t recognize—it was light, airy music, oddly out of keeping with the more gothic elements of the wedding, but it was pretty. A small choir stood behind them, waiting.
The guests filled the room—there must have been at least five hundred vamps out there in the audience. I knew full well they weren’t all from around here. They must have come on the run, summoned from different areas of the world, because Blood Wyne was the one officiating, and wherever you found a queen, you found members of her court. But where nobility walked, so did the requisite security, and they were lining the aisle and the edges of the stage. Except the ones on stage were actually hovering in the air, a circle of vampires ready to drop down on any enemy at the first sign of trouble.
I pulled back and closed the balcony’s curtain. The old theatre had once been grand, but now she was fading like an aging glamour girl. The brocade on the seats was still lovely, if a little threadbare, and the curtains on the stage were crimson to honor Blood Wyne. All in all, aged but still refined and elegant.
Nerissa and I were dressed and ready. Camille had fixed our hair and taken care of my makeup. The dresses fit perfectly, and she had found me a pair of shoes that would work fine—faux crocodile peep-toe pumps with four-inch heels and a one-inch platform. I was able to walk in them just fine. Delilah and Camille both looked gorgeous in their bridesmaids’ dresses, but Nerissa—she took my breath away. The beaded gown fit smoothly but snugly over her figure, and her hair was swept up into a chignon, with wispy tendrils curling down around her ears. Camille had found us jewelry, too—a sparkling Swarovski crystal tiara for Nerissa, and for me, gold combs to sweep my curls back into a cascading tangle down my back. I wore no necklace, but I did wear the wedding band Nerissa had given me. Nerissa was wearing a tiered necklace—ever-descending loops of sparkling crystal on a floating necklace. She, too, wore her wedding ring.
As she looked at me, tears formed in her eyes. “I know this isn’t our wedding day . . . not really . . . but you are so beautiful.” She leaned down and lightly brushed my cheek with her petal pink lips. “I hope we’re doing the right thing.”
“Well, make up your mind now because if you think we aren’t, we’d better get the hell out of town in the next twenty minutes. If we play the part of runaway brides, I guarantee we won’t be coming back to Seattle.” I gave her a toothy grin, then sobered. “Seriously, if you want to go, we will. I’ll leave with you. I won’t make you go through with this—ever. But make up your mind now.”
She paused, thinking it over for a moment, then shook her head. “No. We gave our word. And Roman gave his. I trust him to stick to our deal. And really, I do see the logic behind it. No, we’ll honor our end of the bargain.” And so we rejoined the others in the staging room. A dozen assistants were running around, making certain everything was ready.
Smoky, Morio, Trillian, and Shade were out in the audience. I wasn’t really worried about them. If any vamp even got the hint of an idea to put the fang to one of them, I figured the vamp would come out on the worst end of it. All Smoky and Shade would have to do was to turn into dragons and that would put a stop to any such idea. I wondered if Roman’s brothers and sisters were here—at least the ones who were capable of traveling and not out for his blood—but decided not to ask.
Roman entered the room, followed by an entourage of security officers. His warlord’s body cut a gorgeous figure, dressed in a pair of black leather pants, and a crimson shirt, open at the neck, and his hair was out of the ponytail, hanging long around his shoulders, silken and shining. He wore a golden crown—a circlet that fit snugly around his head. As he glanced at me, the smile that crept around the corner of his lips would have made me catch my breath, if I still breathed. He was captivating, his glamour out in full force, and the fact that he was my sire only made it have more impact. But I knew I wasn’t the only one. Beside me, Nerissa gasped as I nudged her with my elbow and she turned around.
“Roman . . .” My voice trailed off. I wasn’t sure what to say.
“You’re gorgeous.” Nerissa said it for me.
He laughed, his voice rich and pleased. “And you, my brides-to-be, you are both exquisite.” His gaze slaked over us and he bowed low. “Radiance embodied.”
Feeling oddly out of place, I kept my mouth shut. At times, Roman could slather on the charm way too thick, but he meant every word. And tonight was more his than ours. A sudden wave of sadness swept over me, though. I wished he could be marrying someone who truly loved him the way he deserved. But a little voice inside whispered, In time, love may grow. For all three of you.
Camille and Delilah looked slightly uncomfortable as Roman turned to them. “My dear sisters-in-law. You both are quite beautiful tonight. I thank you for being here. I know you may not particularly approve, but trust me, my mother and I wish no deceit or worry to fall on your family. Menolly and Nerissa have my blood-promise that I will not intrude any more than necessary, and they hold my heart in their hands to stake if I do.”
Camille cleared her throat. “Well, that’s not quite the most charming entry into our family, but you’ve helped us in the past, and we do appreciate everything. If this is the way we can give back, and Menolly and Nerissa feel it’s the right thing to do, we abide by their wishes.”
I felt oddly comforted that she wasn’t acting like everything was perfectly normal. I knew they had reservations, but I also knew that what she had said was their way of acknowledging our choice, even if they had misgivings about it.
One of the ushers from the main hall peeked in and gave us a two-minute warning.
I quickly turned to Roman. “Fill us in—you haven’t told us what to expect.”
“It’s simple enough. We walk down the aisle like in any wedding and go up on stage. Your sisters go first and stand to the side. My mother will be on stage waiting for us. Sh
e will marry us, and seal the union by feeding each of us a drop of her blood.” Before Nerissa could ask, he turned to her. “You, too, yes. She’ll ask us our pledges, and we simply say yes. It will be nothing you don’t already expect from our discussion last night.”
“And after?” I was hoping he wouldn’t demand we stick around and party.
“We—the wedding party and your guests in the audience—will retire and we’ll leave. There will be a party overseen by our advisors, which will include all of the regents, for all of the guests. Blood Wyne will receive them in a private hall afterward, with full security, but we’re not expected to attend. She’ll be taking care of more court business than anything else during that time.”
I nodded, running through it in my mind. “Then I guess we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”
“Right on schedule, then. Shall we? First I will go, then Camille and Delilah, then Nerissa and you, my love. And trust that you’ll be watched over by the tightest security force in this nation. Even the president’s Secret Service can’t match our squads.”
And so we got in a line, and as the door opened, I could hear the music swell from the hall below. We headed down the stairs and then, positioned in front of the doors leading into the theater, waited for the music to announce our entry. A sudden blast of whirling notes shot out and I cocked my head. Even I recognized the Carmina Burana.
Roman leaned around Camille to quickly whisper, “Music fit for a prince and his brides. My mother loves this piece. It reminds her of our days when we ruled the countryside.”
And then—before I could answer—the doors opened and he began striding down the aisle. I watched his gait—it was measured and deliberate, neither fast nor slow. Everyone in the audience stood, bowing or curtseying as he passed by. By the looks on their faces, I suddenly realized this was a deadly serious event. We weren’t playing Cinderella and Prince Charming here. The vampires in this room, and more like them all over the world, viewed Roman as their liege. Blood Wyne was their queen and they knelt to her rule and decree.
And then he was on stage, waiting by the altar that was in the center, and it was our turn.
The music swept into a frenzy as Camille and Delilah neared the stage and Nerissa and I began walking down the aisle. The sight of five hundred vampires positioned on either side of us, bowing in a silent wave as we walked by, was a terrifying sight, and I realized just how much damage we could do if we went postal on the city. Beside me, Nerissa’s heart was beating fast and furious, and I realized that my sisters and my wife were probably driving every vampire in here a little bit crazy. Suddenly feeling insecure, even though I knew that Roman’s security was incredibly tight, I put myself on high alert as we made our way to the end of the aisle and up the stairs.
As we took our places, the music died down and then swelled up again—this time with a heavy, deep tone—resounding with restrained power. The back curtains opened and Blood Wyne—in full regalia—glided out to the stage. She wore a heavy dress of crimson, with skirts as wide as I was tall. Gold threads sparkled through the weave, and her robe trailed behind her, the train a good ten feet long. Her diadem of rubies and diamonds sparkled against the upsweep of her hair, and I realized she was floating about three feet off the floor, even though her feet were hidden by her skirts. It gave her an imperial look—larger than life.
To one side of her, a few steps behind, was a vampire in an elegant but simple black suit. To the other, another in a simple black dress. Both had eyes as pale as Blood Wyne’s, and I realized they were old—very old. They both had white hair, and their skin looked almost like alabaster under the lights. I had the feeling that they were just about as powerful as she was, but they trailed her with respect. The next moment, the woman was staring straight at me, her cool eyes aloof, and yet there was wisdom there, and cunning. She tilted her head just the slightest bit and I locked gazes with her, trying to fathom what it was she did. The other vamp looked at Nerissa, then at me, then returned to staring straight at Blood Wyne as if he were feeding her energy.
Blood Wyne raised her hands and the crowd cheered, thundering the halls of the theater. As she lowered her arms, a dead silence swept through. They moved to her beck and call.
“Citizens of the Vampire Nation, sons and daughters of the Crimson Veil, I, your queen, come before you tonight to witness the marriage of my son and heir, Roman, Lord of the Vampire Nation.”
Again, a thundering applause that died off abruptly as she raised one hand.
“By the laws of the Covenant of the Crimson Veil, under the watchful eyes of Kesana, the Great Mother of the Vampire Nation, I do bind and legitimize these ceremonies. Let the proceedings begin, and they will hold as my word and will as Queen of the Crimson Veil.”
The vampires to either side of her echoed in a refrain, very monotone, “So it is and so it will be. Recorded into the History of the Vampire Nation, this ninth evening of May in the twenty-fourth cycle of the reign of Blood Wyne the Magnificent.”
I glanced at them again and realized they were record keepers. I’d heard rumors of them among some of the demonic races, and among the vampires. They were creatures whose sole duty it was to record into memory every important thing that happened. They were walking encyclopedias.
As the ceremony proceeded I began to tune out her words. With all the pomp and pageantry, I was bored. I let my consciousness filter toward the audience, listening. There were the sounds of a very few people breathing. The sounds of their breath stood out as odd in an auditorium filled with over five hundred bodies.
I wondered how many stories were here . . . how each person had been turned. Vampires lived a solitary existence by nature, but put us together and we could create a massively powerful force, if we didn’t do each other in first. Could Blood Wyne accomplish what she hoped to do? Could she create a unified Vampire Nation that could integrate with the other communities on the planet? And perhaps find a way to coexist without having the hatred and fear between the living dead and those still breathing? I hoped so. Because I was tired of the fighting.
“Menolly?”
The sound of my name jolted me out of my thoughts. I jerked, realizing she was talking to me.
“Do you pledge your life and your troth in the service of the Crimson Veil? Do you pledge your loyalty to Roman, Lord and Heir to the Throne, within the keeping of your other sacred oaths? Will you wear the title and crown as Princess Consort, with honor, with loyalty, on threat of your life?”
The oath went on and on. I was now listening carefully, because pledging oath? A serious business and one I would never take lightly. I listened to every word, every nuance, to make certain I wasn’t agreeing to something I couldn’t uphold, but Blood Wyne and Roman had worded it carefully. It would neither compromise my oaths to my sisters, nor to Nerissa.
So when Blood Wyne finally paused, then asked, “Do you, Menolly Rosabelle te Maria D’Artigo, accept and pledge to these vows, upon your life and limb and the sacred blood?” I was able to answer honestly.
“I give you my word, my pledge, and my oath.”
Blood Wyne waited, as the historians intoned, “Menolly Rosabelle te Maria D’Artigo accepts and pledges to these vows upon her life and limb and the sacred blood.” She then turned to Nerissa and basically ran through a similarly long and complex vow. Nerissa was looking half dazed and I had the feeling she’d rather be just about anywhere else right now.
“Do you, Nerissa June Allison Shale, accept and pledge to these vows, upon your life and limb and the sacred blood?”
Nerissa coughed, as if Blood Wyne had caught her off guard. “I give you my word, my pledge, and my oath.”
The historians once again echoed her oath.
Blood Wyne turned to Roman, who straightened his shoulders. “Roman, Lord and Heir to the throne of the Vampire Nation, do you pledge . . .” And she was off. His oath was as long as ours, and j
ust as serious. Roman listened intently, his eyes focused on his mother, nodding quietly as she spoke. When she finished, he made his pledge—which included a vow to keep Nerissa, me, and our family safe and protected, and to come to our aid whenever we needed—and the historians finalized it into history.
Then Blood Wyne held up one arm. In her opposite hand she held a long, thin blade, with which she sliced to one side of her vein. As the blood welled up, she held out her wrist, first to Roman, who gracefully bowed, then leaned forward to lick the blood that was bubbling up. Then she turned to me. I followed suit and the blood hit me like champagne—effervescent and unnervingly tingly. Nerissa shivered just enough to tell me she was nervous, but she accepted Blood Wyne’s proffered arm and licked the blood.
Then, one by one, we followed suit—each slicing our arms, though Nerissa was far more cautious than Roman or I because she could die from bleeding out—and offering them to Blood Wyne, and then to each other. When everybody had traded a drink, Blood Wyne raised her arm again and the audience roared its approval. The deal was done, and we were bound by blood.
“I present to you Lord Roman, Heir to the Throne, and his Princess-Consorts Menolly Rosabelle and Nerissa June Allison.” Blood Wyne’s voice echoed through the theater, and once again a roar of approval thundered through the room.
The rest of the ceremony was mostly formal procedure, wrapping it up. Nerissa and I would go through our coronations at a later date, though our status was official as of now. Then Blood Wyne turned to leave the stage, the historians following her. Next, Roman, with Nerissa on one arm and me on his other, exited behind the Queen. Camille and Delilah followed behind us, guarded closely by the security forces. When we were backstage, we saw Shade, Smoky, Trillian, and Morio there waiting for us. They had been hustled out of the audience before the end, apparently.