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I swallowed, not wanting to tell her about my family. Vampires could make terrible use of emotions and bonds to control others. But one look at Roman and I knew she already knew the answers. He was her son. He owed her loyalty and he probably told her everything.
“My sisters hold my oath, first and foremost. My family and friends. My oath to the elves and to my home city-state. My beloved. I will never betray them. And…I have a loyalty to your son, yes. As long as it does not interfere with my other allegiances.” Sometimes, it was better to just have the facts out in the open.
Blood Wyne nodded, somberly. “I do not take oaths lightly, my young vampire. And neither do you, I see. I admire that. I would rather you placed my son first, of course, but breaking one oath to forge another is tantamount to being warlock, and I will not tolerate broken vows in the Crimson Veil. Best now you understand this.”
“I do, and I agree.” Relieved that she wasn’t going to attempt to supersede my loyalties with her own, I began to relax, just a little.
“My son told me he was performing the ritual of re-siring with you, and why. Did he also tell you that at this point, I must accept you into our line in order for it to fully take? And that if I don’t, you will be killed?”
I gasped, turning to Roman. “You didn’t—”
His face a blank mask, he stared solemnly at me. “I did not know.”
I wanted to rail at him, to send him flying down the steps in a fury, but this was not the best place to go postal. His mother could pick me off like a fly. Glaring at him, I turned back to Blood Wyne.
“He did not tell me about the latter part. He guaranteed little pain.”
“Little pain does not mean the same thing as not being hurt. But do not fret. He did not know, either, because I chose not to tell him.”
As she stood again, she seemed to grow taller, towering over me. I felt fear for the first time in her presence. I went down on my knees, as did Roman. “You have no clue what it means to be in the presence of the Crimson Veil.”
Her voice echoed through the room, rebounding off the walls. As I peeked through my fingers, she aged, not in body, but in spirit, and her power reverberated through me. She was no figurehead, but truly a queen.
“Do you even know what the Crimson Veil is, my girl?” She leaned down and reached for my hand, and—unable to resist—I gave it to her. As she drew me up, I shook my head, stupefied into silence.
“Then come with me, and learn.”
The throne room vanished and I found myself standing beside Blood Wyne in a crimson haze, a flurry of smoke and fog rippling like some bloody aurora borealis. The bloodlust raced through my body. I let out a moan, trying to stifle my instincts, trying to push the predator within back into the closet.
“Welcome to the Crimson Veil. It is the place all vampires come to, in the end. It was created when Kesana turned the world into her playground by accepting the demons into her soul.”
The winds shrieked around me, calling me to feed, to hunt, to tear through the world and rip it to shreds.
“What is this place?”
“This is the core of the bloodlust, the source of our power, the only memory we have left of Kesana. This is the primal power of the vampire. Some say this is what remains of Kesana’s soul.”
“Why didn’t I feel it when Dredge turned me? Does every other vampire know about this?”
She shook her head. “No, only those who’ve reached a great age and choose to end their life, or those brought as a guest. Menolly, you repress yourself. You spend enormous energy denying your nature, and that is more dangerous than accepting who you are.”
As she whispered in my ear, a sweat poured over my body, and I hadn’t sweated since I was turned. I glanced at the beads of perspiration and they were bloody drops, saturating the white gown that I wore.
“I cannot give in. It’s too dangerous. I will not turn on my friends. I will not become a mindless hunter in the night.”
“You do not have to,” she whispered. “But you must accept what you are, fully, and embrace it. Any lingering shreds of doubt and regret must be swept away if you are to fully become the vampire you’re destined to be. You are half-Fae, yes, and half-human, but you are all vampire. You feed on animal blood instead of keeping bloodwhores. Why?”
“Because it’s vile—I do not want the responsibility for their lives in my hands. What if I make a mistake? What if I can’t control myself? What if I hurt someone I care about?”
“A bloodwhore lives to serve.”
“I will not keep a stable.” I began to cry, bloody tears streaking down my cheeks. “I hate the very thought of it. I hate that Roman does it. I find it…”
“You find it an abomination? But you do feed on humans. You are no saint.”
I wanted her voice to stop. Clasping my hands to my ears, I shouted back at her. “I feed on the scum—those who hurt and harm and maim…those who will never be redeemed because they are beyond all repentance.”
“Then you are their judge and jury, Menolly, and yet you pass judgment on those who willingly give of themselves that we might live?” Blood Wyne grabbed me by the wrists and turned me so I faced the veil that rippled in front of us. “Very well, you do not wish to keep bloodwhores. But until you can plunge yourself into the veil and understand your true nature, you will always be running from yourself. Until then, you can never be a part of my lineage.”
