AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Patience, firecracker," Lannan said behind me. "You and Leo stay here. Have a drink with me. My sister will keep your cousin safe. As long as she behaves herself."
Regina pressed a book on the bookshelf--I didn't notice which one, and it slid open, silently, to reveal a dark passage. I followed her in, knowing that I had no choice. I'd left choice behind when I walked through the front door.
"I would not do this," she said once it closed, "but my brother makes a point. This will perhaps convince you more than what we have to say."
"What's the Blood Oracle?" Better forewarned than be taken by surprise.
"Better to ask who." She blinked. "The Blood Oracle is the seer of the Crimson Court. He's held his office for two thousand years. His name is Crawl, but never address him directly. You must ask all questions through me. He will no longer speak to mortals, be they magic-born or human."
We passed into a dark room. A table sat in the center, illuminated by a single bulb from the ceiling, and on the octagonal-shaped table rested a crystal, hovering above a clear crimson slab of glass that softly glowed. The feel of magic hung heavy in the room and crawled up my arms like scuttling needles, prickling my nerves. This was heavy magic, old magic. Dark and ominous. The rest of the room was cloaked in inky shadows and I had the feeling that to step outside of the dim illumination would be to put my life in danger.
I started to ask what it was, then stopped. Regina was staring intently at the crystal, her fingers hovering above it, and I didn't want to interrupt her train of thought because I could feel how deep she was sliding. I folded my arms, suddenly cold and dizzy. The magic churned like waves cresting over a boat, and the room started to spin. Regina reached out and grabbed me by the wrist, and the next thing I knew, everything had gone black in a massive rush of wind.
Chapter 11
The scent of a thousand years raced by, turning back the calendar month by dusty month. Smog and dust and the smoke from a million fires gusted past. Voices--cries lost in the depths of time, whispers from old ghosts wandering past, and the howling of wolves rocked the wind.
My wolf let out a whimper, waking as he stretched to learn what was going on. I tried to comfort him--for I knew it was Grieve feeling my fear, sensing my tailspin, but he snarled as I brushed my hand over my stomach.
A cacophony of sound assaulted my ears and I tried to pull away from Regina, to cover my ears, but then all fell silent.
We stood in a softly lit room. The chamber was huge, with a table in the center identical to the one back at the mansion, crystal and all. The same hum of energy rang through the gem and I tried to memorize exactly what it looked like so I could figure out what it was later.
The chamber we were in stretched farther than I could see, and the ceiling was a good thirty feet high. The walls were covered with a crimson paper, and the light came from some hidden source. Benches lined the walls, and the floor was covered with magical symbols. Heavy magic rolled like mist around my ankles, making my skin twitch. Whatever had been done here had upset the balance and created a force greater than just about anything I'd ever felt.
Regina touched my shoulder. "Come. Stay on the walkway."
She began to move toward what appeared to be the back of the chamber and I followed, wondering where the hell we were going. We walked along a narrow path of Tuscan gold, bounded by thick black lines on either side. There were no symbols on the tiles and, as we made our way up the walk, I began to realize that if I stepped off the path I'd land on one of the sigils. The runes were active and aware--there was no telling just what sort of spell I'd set off.
As we came to the end of the chamber, a dais rose a good five feet off the floor and Regina lithely glided up and on it. She stopped, turning back to me, and leaned over, extending her hand. I reached up to grasp her fingers and, with barely a murmur, she yanked me up and onto the dais. Blinking at her strength, I waited for her to make the next move.>The room was lit with chandeliers and a rotating disco ball, but somehow none of the glitz looked tacky, just sparkly and brilliant. There were odd scents in the air--perfumes that I'd never smelled but that made me think of lush gardens and opium dens.
And then, there were the vampires. I had fleeting glimpses of actual humans in the crowd, but the vampires were easy to pick out. Pupilless eyes might be freaky on Little Orphan Annie, but the vamps made them work. It would be so easy to fall into the blackness, to lose yourself in that shining void.
They seemed to be dancing in slow motion, strobed by the flashing of the rotating light, caught in freeze-frame to the rhythm of the music. The room was filled with Armani and Vera Wang and Calvin Klein and Yves Saint Laurent's Rive Gauche, and I began to realize these were power players. Old money scented the room, oily and thick and rooted in deals long dust.
"Are there any poor vamps?" Rhiannon whispered, and several of the nearest dancers turned their heads our way. One gave us a long, languorous smile. "Oh shit, they heard me," she added.
I nodded back at the smiling vamp and murmured under my breath, "Yeah, watch your mouth."
"I'm so glad you could make it."
One moment we were standing alone, the next--a woman stood by my side. She held out her hand and I cautiously accepted. Her skin was cool but not clammy, and silken. Golden blonde, with her hair gathered into an elegant chignon, she was no taller than Rhiannon but she wore her power like a cloak.
"I'm Regina Altos, Emissary to the Crimson Queen." She lingered a moment on my hand, rubbing my palm with one finger, before inclining her head at the others. "I'm so glad you and your friends could attend our little soiree."
Leo and Rhiannon murmured politely while I frantically tried to think of what to say next. This wasn't my usual social situation. I scrambled but was drawing a blank. Should I just act like I belonged here? Should I ask her what she wanted? Was it rude to take charge of the conversation with someone who was older than the pyramids? Luckily, Regina put an end to my dilemma.
"Come. We will return to enjoy the party, but for now--a meeting. Your friends are invited to sit in; no doubt you would tell them what we say anyway." She motioned for us to follow her and we wove through the crowd toward the end of the room where I could see yet another door.
On the way, I bumped up against a vamp and he looked down at me, hunger and delight filling his face. Catching my breath, I narrowed my shoulders and hurried past, trying to squeeze through without attracting any more attention than necessary.
Regina led us into a study--which was bigger than our living room at home--and there, behind the desk, sat a man, vaguely Chinese, but he obviously had some other bloodline going on in there, too. He looked to be around thirty, but by his eyes, I knew he was far older than that. He was dressed in a pair of leather pants, a ruffled lavender shirt, and a leather vest. His long, sharp nails were painted with gold and his hair hung down to his waist, free and smoothly onyx. In a word: Stunning.
He stood as we entered the room and motioned for us to take a seat in a conversation area. We sat in a line on the Victorian sofa, and waited.
"Look, they gather together like a litter of kittens," he said, smiling at us. He glanced up at Regina, who let out a throaty laugh.
"Leo, my trusty day runner, it's good of you to come with your new friend and your lovely courtesan." The man took a seat in a wing chair opposite me, and Regina sat in the matching chair to his side.
