“Siana wants to see you first. She’s been having fits all day. Vanora barricaded herself in the temple with her when she first arrived. Whatever transpired greatly upset Siana.” Pólemos maintained a very neutral speaking voice, but it was evident by his eye movements and the way his hands gripped the weapon filled with silver bullets that he was not comfortable with the recent developments.
“Did you find out what happened between them?” The disquiet that had plagued him since he’d opened his eyes settled even deeper into his soul.
“Vanora said she wanted to confirm her destiny with you. Siana told me later that was true, but that Vanora was also trying to find a way to kill you.”
The words punched into his heart like a dagger. He should have listened to those who advised him to bring Vanora under his protection earlier, but he had been convinced that would’ve made her a target of the remaining sisters. Out of his desire to keep Vanora safe, perhaps he’d doomed himself. Grimly, he shoved those regrets aside. He knew Vanora loved him even if she was currently in denial.
Aeron regarded Pólemos thoughtfully. “Do you think Siana’s sane enough to give good counsel?”
Exhaling, Pólemos shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. She’s always been a bit unhinged, but since this morning, she’s much worse.”
The frustration within Aeron was only intensifying. His destiny had always been very clear to him. There had never been any doubts in his mind. The prophecy uttered by his mother had been his constant solace during lonesome nights in the aftermath of brutal battles. The Oracle had warned him that his future was being undone, and now Vanora was set against him. Though he wanted to rush to the throne room to be united with her, he sensed that it would be wiser to seek out Siana first.
“I will see the Oracle first.”
It only took a short time to shower and dress in a silk shirt under a buttery soft long coat and a matching white trousers. After lacing up his cream-colored Doc Martens, he joined Pólemos in a trek to the temple. His hair brushed against the top of his collar in loose curls and his goatee was growing into a beard. At one point he’d thought about cutting his hair short again and shaving, but dismissed the idea. It was more urgent for him to uncover what was wrong than fret over impressing Vanora.
As they approached the temple, Pólemos broke the troubled silence between them. “Whatever you decide, I stand with you, even though I fear that woman may be the death of us all.”
“Your loyalty is welcomed during this difficult time,” Aeron replied.
Pólemos let out a bitter chortle. “And here we thought our greatest worries would be destroying the Seven Sisters.”
“Vanora will not be a threat,” Aeron snapped.
“I hope you are right.”
The second Aeron entered the temple he was assailed by the twisted, frantic magic of the Oracle. Instead of kneeling beside her scrying pool, she was seated within it. Only her hair fanning out around her head in the choppy water revealed her location. Aeron noted the destroyed statues and pedestals strewn across the floor. He sensed he was alone and glanced over his shoulder to see that Pólemos had stopped in the doorway. Fear was etched into his features.
“I cannot enter!” he called out, his voice muffled by the sound of the waves slapping against the marble floor. “She warded it.”
Kneeling next to the pool, Aeron waited for the Oracle to notice him. Siana burst from the surface of the water, grabbed Aeron’s coat in both hands, and pressed her forehead to his. Aeron was unnerved by her closeness
Shuddering, she whispered, “There is death in the throne room. Blood and ash.”
“Vanora is in the throne room.” Aeron replied, alarmed.
“Yes! Her! She’s death. Ashes and blood stain her. Everywhere I see is death at her hand!”
“She’s my destiny,” Aeron argued, his heart breaking. “I love her.”
“When you enter the throne room, death will greet you! I see it! It’s all I can see now! She controls the future and she brings death! Vanora brings death!”
Gripping her arms, Aeron shook Siana. “You saw a future with her at my side. Our children! The world at our feet!”
“I can no longer see your destiny! I can only see the ashes and blood!”
“This cannot be the truth! My mother said--”
“Your mother created your destiny and now it is unraveling! The Fates no longer can control what happens. It is all in Vanora’s hands! Your mother created her to be your equal, but she has surpassed you!”
“Look harder! Look beyond the ashes and blood and what do you see?” Aeron’s anger rippled through his body and he barely contained his desire to rip Siana’s lying tongue from her mouth.
Blinking her eyelids over empty sockets, Siana grew very still. When she spoke, her words trembled in the air. “The White Queen upon her throne...”
“At my side?”
Siana released him, slumping back into the water. Her chin barely above the surface, she stared with her empty eyes into the future. “There is blood and ashes in the throne room...”
“What does that mean?” Aeron shouted at the Oracle. “Tell me!”
A second later, Pólemos called out, “Aeron! Security outside the throne room is reporting that Mirrah and the Brides have just forced their way inside!”
“Blood and ashes,” Aeron gasped in fear. “Mirrah and the Brides will kill her. We need to go!”
Terror filling him, Aeron raced from the temple and through the winding corridors of his haven toward the throne room. He was barely aware of his surroundings as he rushed to save Vanora from Mirrah and the Brides. The last corridor seemed obscenely long despite his preternatural speed.
When he burst into the throne room, ash filled the air, sifting downward onto the thick layer of blood covering the floor.
Upon the throne was Vanora, drenched in blood, her throat caught in the vice grip of Mirrah.
* * *
Earlier—
The throne room was impressive, but set Vanora’s teeth on edge with its relentless shades of white. She was sick of the color. It was everywhere, dominating every object in sight. The two marble thrones - one slightly smaller than the other - on the dais were austere in their modern design. The stark appearance suited Aeron’s personality. He liked simplicity, which was amusing considering how much chaos he created with his very existence.
After ascending the steps to the platform, Vanora regarded her surroundings from the higher perch. The circular chamber was a little smaller than she’d expected, but a large amount of people could fit within its confines as long as it was standing room only. Tilting her head back, she gazed at the marble statue of Arianrhod that loomed behind the thrones. It was a perfect depiction of the goddess. In her hands she held the sun and the moon.
She felt insignificant in the shadow of the goddess’s power. Within herself was a growing battle between the dark essence of the White Queen and Vanora’s will. It was disquieting to feel the personification of Arianrhod’s spell taking deeper root inside her soul.
“The statue just arrived from Italy,” Lorelei said from behind her.
Vanora whipped about to face the tiny vampire standing in the doorway. A delicate lace dress adorned the slender form of the teenager, the hem barely touching the top of her suede ankle boots. The cloud of blond curls and big doe-like eyes gave Lorelei the illusion of softness and vulnerability. Vanora knew the girl was neither.
“I see you’ve recovered,” Vanora stated while attempting to keep any smugness from leaking into her voice. Defeating Lorelei and Aeron’s Brides had been a defining moment in the discovery of her magical abilities.
Lorelei shrugged.
Silence stretched between the women.
Vanora tucked her long hair behind her ears and attempted to not appear cowed before the dangerous little vampire.
Lorelei merely stared at her, unblinking and emotionless.
“I’m waiting for Aeron,” Vanora finally stated, unable t
o endure the unnerving quiet anymore.
Hands clasped before her, Lorelei continued to observe Vanora.
Running her fingertips lightly along the armrest of the smaller throne, Vanora fought the urge to squirm under that unrelenting gaze. Lorelei was a terrifying and dangerous creature in spite of her delicate appearance.
“That throne is yours,” Lorelei said.
On impulse, Vanora settled onto the hard seat. Like a cold wave, an undeniable sensation washed over her and left her trembling. She let out a frightened, strangled breath that frosted the air.
She belonged on the throne.
It was hers.
Violently shivering, Vanora felt the other inside her. It was the dark essence that always responded to Aeron when he was near and that she now recognized as the White Queen.
Lorelei smiled. “It feels perfect, doesn’t it?”
Fingers pressing against the freezing marble, Vanora combated the upwelling presence of the White Queen out of the depths of her soul.
I belong here.
“No,” Vanora whispered.
“No?” Lorelei pouted. “Aren’t you happy to be home?”
With immense difficulty, Vanora pushed down on the armrests and hoisted her body off the throne. Shaken to the core, she stood on the dais, fighting the urge to reclaim the throne that was rightfully hers.
No. That was the White Queen’s thoughts. Vanora was here to kill Aeron, not claim her place at his side.
The click of many heels in the hallway beyond the doors to the throne room helped drag Vanora’s attention from the throne.
With a smirk upon her pink lips, Lorelei stepped away from the entrance. “You have company.”
Tensing, Vanora prepared to face Aeron.
Instead, a beautiful woman with curly dark hair and pale blue eyes entered the room. She came to an abrupt halt when she saw Vanora. Dressed in a stylish dark blue crushed velvet grown and a sparkling diamond and sapphire necklace, the woman looked every inch like the queen of the vampires. Behind her was an entourage of Aeron’s Brides, dressed in matching white dresses in the same style of the dark haired woman’s gown.
The hatred of the Brides washed over Vanora. Instead of experiencing fear, she felt anger at their defiance. They should bow at her feet, not protect Aeron’s whore.
No. That wasn’t right.
The White Queen was manifesting inside her head. Vanora struggled to regain control of her thoughts, but it was becoming increasingly hard.
Scrutinizing Vanora, the woman lifted her eyebrows. “Well, that’s just eerie. You look a lot like my husband.”
“Mirrah, this is Vanora,” Lorelei said, her smirk growing even more pronounced. “She’s a witch.”
“I thought we killed them all.” Mirrah laughed, completely missing the angry expressions on the Brides behind her. “But she does look delicious. I haven’t had witch in such a long time. And an albino one at that. Aeron has outdone himself with his gifts.”
“She’s not for you,” Lorelei corrected.
The Brides inched closer to Mirrah. One of them, a woman with ebony skin and a shorn head, leaned down to whisper in Mirrah’s ear. As she listened, red flamed across Mirrah’s cheeks and her eyes blazed.
“You’re the one who killed my darlings last night?” In an instant a silver dagger was in one hand, drawn from a sheath strapped to her thigh.
Vanora valiantly fought past the passions of the growing presences inside her head. The other was furious and demanding blood. She’d known that Arianrhod’s spell would be her greatest obstacle once she arrived at Aeron’s haven. Now, even without seeing Aeron, the battle was upon her.
I am the White Queen. They will not defy me.
Straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin, Vanora said, “They attacked me. I had no choice. A lesson you had best learn from.”
“How dare you threaten me!” Mirrah moved as though to attack, but Lorelei blocked her.
“Out of my way, Lorelei,” Mirrah commanded.
The Brides gathered behind Mirrah, tensed for battle, their eyes glowing and their long teeth visible behind lush lips.
“You can’t attack the queen.” Lorelei shrugged her shoulders. “It would make Aeron angry.”
“I am the queen! And I’m going to kill the cunt who murdered my women!” Mirrah slashed her dagger through the air in Lorelei’s direction. “Out of my way!”
With a childish giggle, Lorelei moved to stand at the base of the steps leading to the thrones. “I have to protect the queen. The new queen.”
It was obvious that Lorelei was enjoying herself, and not really interested in protecting Vanora. The little vampire’s words were making the situation even more difficult for Vanora. Internally, she was straining to keep at bay the furious power of the White Queen.
Stand aside. Let me out.
“My body. My mind. My life,” Vanora whispered.
Mirrah stared at Vanora incredulously. “New queen? That witch! Replace me? I think not!”
“It’s already done,” Lorelei replied. “Poor you. Time to go.”
The Brides murmured together.
Mirrah’s fingers flexed around the hilt of the dagger while she scrutinized Vanora. The vampire’s upper lip curled into a snarl of fury.
A battle was coming.
Vanora summoned her magic and it swirled through her veins like white fire. “If you attack, I’ll kill all of you.”
That elicited a girlish giggle from Lorelei. “They’re as good as dead already. It doesn’t matter if they attack, or run, or hide, or whatever. Aeron is going to kill all of them.”
“I am the queen! He wouldn’t dare!” Mirrah shouted, but uncertainty and fear shadowed her eyes and seeped into her words.
She’s defying me.
Struggling to keep control, Vanora stood her ground, determined not to die at the hands of a jealous wife. It wasn’t easy to ignore the voice screaming in her head, but Vanora was completely dedicated to destroying Aeron. No one would stop her. Not Mirrah. Not the White Queen.
As casually as if she was adjusting her skirt, Lorelei pulled daggers from sheaths hidden in the lining of her clothing.
“She almost killed you, Lorelei,” the ebony-skinned Bride shouted. “Help us kill her!”
Vanora’s gaze flicked back and forth between Lorelei and the cluster of vampire women preparing to pounce. Where was Aeron? Why wasn’t he here?
In the blink of an eye, the women scattered across the throne room, up the walls, and along the doomed ceiling in a blur of motion. The streak of darkness heading toward Vanora was cut off abruptly by Lorelei. Silver blades slashing, Lorelei forced Mirrah to retreat.
“You little bitch!” Mirrah hissed, wiping blood from her torn cheek.
“I’ve been waiting such a long time for this.” Lorelei flashed a fiendish grin.
The Brides darted along the walls and ceiling in an apparent effort to be a distraction. Trying to track Mirrah and the Brides was nearly impossible. Vanora opted to take things into her own hands in lieu of waiting for the next attack. The White Queen within her quieted as Vanora summoned magic into her hands. What she was about to do was exactly the sort of thing Arianrhod would want. Ignoring that thought, Vanora thrust her hands upward, unleashing the torrent of power that had been steadily building within her.
The sparkling miasma swirled along the domed ceiling, setting ablaze any vampire in its wake. The majestic display of magic filled the room with white light as the Brides screamed in terror and scrambled to escape. Thrashing about, the Brides caught in the brilliance set others ablaze in their panic to evade the deadly power. Transformed into blackened husks, the vampire women were vanquished in seconds.
Mirrah stared in shock and despair at the ashes raining from above.
All the Brides were dead. Only Mirrah remained.
Dizzy from exertion, Vanora staggered on her feet. She’d expelled far more power than she’d anticipated. It was a sign that her ability to con
trol it wasn’t absolute. The edge of the seat painfully caught the back of her leg as she fought to regain her balance and she fell backward onto the throne.
“I will kill you!” Mirrah screeched.
The vampire was a streak of darkness. Lorelei blocked the way and caught the dethroned queen with her blade, ripping open her belly with one brutal blow. Blood spilled out in a great torrent and ran down the stairs. The vampire queen must have just fed and was glutted. The blood was still warm with life and steamed in the stale, cold air. Mirrah staggered, her hand pressing to the wound in an attempt to staunch the flow and keep her organs within her body. Lorelei circled the injured queen, her daggers dripping blood on the white floor.
“I have so looked forward to this,” Lorelei giggled.
Exhaustion ate at Vanora. Another attempt to rise to her feet failed. The toll of the last weeks had destroyed her reserves. Worse yet, she could feel the White Queen clawing her way out of the depths of Vanora’s very soul. The seed of magic buried inside her had finally bloomed. The internal battle was just as vicious as the one she watched.
Lorelei whizzed toward Mirrah so fast Vanora could barely follow her. The other vampire was ready for the attack. The dark haired woman buried her dagger to the hilt in Lorelei’s chest, just missing her heart. Shrieking, Lorelei retreated, but Mirrah’s nails slashed the teen’s throat open, cutting off her cries. Obviously shocked by the turn of events, Lorelei dropped her weapons as her small hands closed around the hilt of the dagger burrowed into her body. Mirrah stalked after Lorelei, her blood soaked gown left leaving a gory trail in her wake.
As Lorelei dragged the silver dagger out of her breast, black liquid and smoke trailed from the wound. Her delicate mouth open in a silent scream, Lorelei flung the dagger at Mirrah. The brunette vampire easily ducked under the blade and descended on the teenager. She took another swipe at Aeron’s favorite, her long nails just as deadly as any blade. Lorelei struck like a snake, sinking her fangs deep into Mirrah’s forearm, ripping both cloth and flesh from the bone.
Despite struggling internally with the White Queen, Vanora at last managed to get her feet under her. She needed to escape before Mirrah finished Lorelei and came for her. Vanora could not fight two battles on different fronts.
In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete Third Season Page 33