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She made her way down us, like she was in a receiving line. She spoke to Veronica and Gideon first, then Mr. Galeman, then me.
Anna looked me up and down. “You’re magnificent. ”
“I’m not feeling it right now. ”
She slipped her hand into mine briefly. Then she smiled at Sike and went to the front of the stage.
“Bathory isn’t here,” Sike whispered, barely breathing beside me. She took her earpiece out of her ear.
“What does that mean?”
“They’re not voting. ”
I tried to stare out past the lights, to figure out by the crowds where the lines of allegiances ran.
A vampire who appeared to be the master of ceremonies took the stage. He gestured for Anna to join him. “Anna Arsov, begin. ”
Anna opened up her arms to include everyone in the gathering. She looked so young beside him, and with all the lights shining down, her shadow was slight. “I have passed every test that you’ve given me. I have shown grand restraint, and I have known grave thirst. All the positions on my court have been filled. Who here would dispute my right to ascend?”
“House Arachne!” A lone vampire in the middle of an empty area of seats stood. “House Arachne does not recognize the right of the Arsinov to ascend to the Sanguine of the Rose Throne!”
“Old, but not as old as we are,” Sike murmured just for my ear. “Powers include insect and small animal servants. Spiders, birds, and the like. ”
“And why would you dispute me?”
“You picked this place, so you have no taste. Worse yet, you picked these people—”
Anna cut her off. “It was within my rights to choose the locale, and to choose my own people. I have done nothing wrong. ”
“Many of them hate the church. They believe in the power it holds over them. ” Sike continued her narration.
“And you?” I asked of Sike.
“I believe in her,” she whispered back.
“Does anyone else dispute?” the vampire overseeing the proceedings intoned.
A young woman in a tight burgundy velvet dress with swooping sleeves came forward. “The House of Bathory is undecided. We choose to abstain. ”
“Nouveau riche pretenders,” Sike murmured to me. “Weak. ”
“Is that all?” the ceremony master asked, taking a moment to look around. “Together, two Houses cannot sway the vote. Sanguine rules of order say we should proceeed. ” He tur
ned toward me. “Human, can you present your knife?”
I’d forgotten I had it. I held it out. He took it with a gloved hand and spun the hourglass in the hilt.
“There’s blood on it—but none of it’s in you. That’s what counts. ” He put it in his own robe. “We may begin,” he said, and snapped his fingers.
One of the hovering observers came up with a small brass box. It had a crank handle and was set on a silver tray.
Anna turned to me and pointed at the box. “Edie, please. ”
I didn’t want to ask what it was. I wish she’d told me more. I picked it up carefully and looked at the handle, then the sides, and finally underneath. There were grooves cut into the bottom, lined with tiny blades. The metal was old. The blades were unclean.
A scarificator. I recognized it from our introduction to nursing class, when our teachers had explained how far medical practices had come, and how far it had to go, and how we, the nurses of the next generation, were going to take it there. It was meant to bleed people, from olden times, when just lancing someone wouldn’t do. Shown to be medically useless, despite the esteem it once held. Just like cocaine-spiked Coke, magnet treatments, and the benefits of smoking.
No one made them anymore—because no one believed in the health benefits of bleeding.
Except for vampires.
Anna rolled up her white sleeve and proffered me her wrist. Another observer brought up a golden urn that had been fitted with a delicate tap.
“I trust you,” she said, looking down at me. I knew what the stakes were, but—“Edie. It will be okay. I trust you. ”
I knew I couldn’t hurt her—doing this wouldn’t hurt her. And many times vampires, and even sometimes me, found pleasure inside pain. But still.
Where was the difference between piercing someone’s skin with a needle, for their own good, and setting this thing’s blackened grinding blades onto her? How many times had I hurt to make things better—hurt other people, and hurt myself?
She wanted me to do it. If I didn’t, it might be the end of her. And the end of us.
