by Elle Cross
She nodded. Of course she would have been here to donate. And here she thought she was unusual carrying around bags of food everywhere she went.
"And that was why she was here? She was bringing in bags of food?"
He nodded, and she continued. "Did anyone see anything? To have your head twisted around and off your body like that seems to be very...deliberate. And obvious. Like an ogre."
“I wasn't on watch, but I'll find who was.”
She darted out before the EMS worker zipped her up. There was something that peeked out of her pocket — a handkerchief. Tentatively, she looked at it and was about to pull it out, but the EMS worker eyeballed her. "You can't touch the body."
"Yeah, she can," Rolph said. Then nodded to her. "Go ahead."
She tugged on it, and breathed a sigh of relief. She saw that the coin was still there. Hiding in plain sight.
Too bad it didn't help Ophelia in the end, but Immortelle was grateful that there was still the coin. Unfortunately, anything she might have learned had died with her.
Immortelle wrapped the coin tightly and slipped it into her pocket and retreated back to sanctuary.
Rolph whispered under his breath. "Was that what you were looking for?"
She nodded, but said nothing else until she was inside of the Sanctuary. "Is the area behind the rectory still part of Sanctuary?"
"Yes, anything within, that is why the blood bank is kept here. I shall escort you."
"Okay." Immortelle’s heart was heavy, but her eyes were clear and she pinpointed her destination. The Captain of the Ashenguard paused just outside of the vestibule. “I will wait here,” he said.
She stepped inside the little prayer room, which was more like a breezeway. On one wall, there were rows of votive candles with a kneeler. Beyond that room was a stretch of hallway lined with stained glass that led to the heavy doors of the blood bank. The imposing black marble with its bas-relief sculptures of angels and demons stood like a grim sentinel as Immortelle’s status and worth were determined.
There was only one lit candle, which made her wonder if that meant there was one visitor in the blood bank. With her intentions set on getting inside of that bank, she struck a match and lit one of the candles.
The smoke from the wick wafted up toward the ceiling, which Immortelle now realized was almost like a funnel that would send the smoke and incense up and away from this room.
After what felt like a century, a voice like rolling thunder echoed in the prayer room. “Welcome, Lady Immortelle. Are you here to claim your inheritance from Lord Commodore Bianco?”
“I am.”
A twisting sound of moving gears came from behind the door. Where there should be a door handle, was a smooth panel. “Tithe,” was the only instruction she was given.
Immortelle walked briskly to the doors and placed her hand on the panel. She waited for a puncture that didn’t come, since another click sounded. They must have accepted a tithe from her other than blood.
Will. Energy. Youth. They could have tasted of any of those.
As the doors rolled away, the same thunderous voice boomed, “Welcome, Immortelle, Lady of House Della Serra of the White Rose Court of Vampires.”
The title didn’t sit easy with Immortelle, but to find the answers she needed, she would take it and all the power and access that came with it.
She was through being a pawn. It was time for her to be the queen.
* * *
To be continued...
The conclusion of Immortelle’s journey is Invicta.
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Invicta Preview
Immortelle looked at the coin before her. It was unadorned, and chipped around the edges. Blackened and ruined. She dug into another pocket and took out an obol from the Cabal. This one was similar to the one that War had given her except this one was from the Dark Queens, care of Henrick. This carried with it their blessing and the implied use of Carte Blanche from Arapax. She was able to read these glyphs and their intention just fine.
The one in her pocket, folded in a linen handkerchief was similar. The glyphs and sigils were arranged in a way that she didn't understand. The old alphabet, sure, but it was arranged into a language that was beyond her reckoning. Those coins...the fact that she wasn't able to touch them was enough for her to know that there was some serious magick to them. Something that would be her downfall if she weren't careful.
It wasn't even that she had to know about it, it was just a feeling in her gut. Experience was her teacher in this regard.
If you couldn’t touch an object, then the object was not only incredibly powerful but also dangerous.
Rolph told her that he would look out for her after she was through with her business and left her in the capable hands of the concierge of the blood bank.
Kennings, as he introduced himself, asked if she needed help. She introduced herself as the heiress of the Della Serra House after Bianco’s passing.
He accepted the news with only a slight widening of his eyes. Otherwise, Kennings seemed to be a gentleman’s gentleman—discreet and nonjudgmental to various lords’ private affairs.
Immortelle asked about a catalog or inventory where she could know what exactly was in Bianco's vault.
Kennings told her that she would have a feeling, an intuition, but if the memories have yet to be congealed into her mind, then he could lead her.
The blood bank was crafted from marble and gold. They went past rows of various storage spaced until they arrived at a private elevator. They went to sub-basement level 3, which was the very lowest floor.
Immortelle had in mind musty and dirty storage facilities, but when the doors opened, it was like she was looking into a museum and library rolled into one. High ceilings. Marble columns. Even a fireplace that roared in front of a marble fountain.
The fountain, she realized, was the family’s fountain of knowledge. No need to clutter your brain full of memories when they could be relieved here ever few centuries.
“These are all the private holdings of the Della Serra House, Lady.” Kennings led her toward the fountain where there were leather seats to rest in.
A raven flew down from somewhere to land at a perch beside the fountain. Immortelle startled. Crows and other birds made her skittish recently.
"Don't worry, Lady. These work for the Sanctuary, in charge of the Della Serra holdings specifically."
Kennings turned to the raven. "This is Huginn. He is the repository of the information here. Well, in conjunction with Muninn, his counterpart, who should be arriving soon.”
As he spoke, another raven soared down from wherever it had been and perched beside its counterpart.
“Together they give a better picture of memories and give you a full context without needing to drink every last bit of blood yourself to find the information you seek."
That would be nice. The idea of consuming her enemy didn’t appeal to her. "Perfect. I didn't want to dither the day away regarding sifting through memories."
"If you could tell them what you want, then that would help," Kennings suggested.
At this point, both ravens were still on the perch, their black eyes cold and alien.
"Do I just say something?"
The one called Huginn opened its beak. Mist flowed out of it. "Do not be alarmed, Immortelle. You may speak to us directly."
The talking bird should have bothered her more than it did, given the setting, but she was more relieved to get the information she wanted while she was here. "Would it be easier for you to take my thoughts directly?"
"Easier and more accurate. Sometimes words muddy up meaning."
She would agree to that.
Their talons were sharp, and she had no doubt that they would rather slice ribbons into her flesh and peck at the meat. They wouldn’t be able to help it, it
would be part of their nature.
To save herself from being gouged, Immortelle took out her obsidian blade, the one like a harpy's claw, and lightly cut her skin. It was enough for a bead of blood to form into a droplet and carefully drop into first Huginn's and then Muninn's beaks.
Their eyes glazed over, and they seemed frozen in place again.
Did she kill them?
Then as if they were wind-up toys, they slowly geared back into life. First blinking, then shifting in their stand. Then almost simultaneously, they shook out their wings and feathers.
"They're almost copies, aren't they?" Kenning's voice startled her. She almost believed that she had been alone here with the birds.
"I figured that's what happens with those of the same species."
Similar but different.
“Yes, and like other species, its nuanced differences that make people who they are. That slightly different something that would otherwise make an exact copy, an original.”
Immortelle crinkled her forehead in thought, wondering what an odd thing for him to say. Before she could ask, there was a hiss from one of the birds. "You wish to know the full inventory of House Della Serra?"
"Not all the details. I know for a fact that Bianco had rare coins that he housed in this vault,” Immortelle was only guessing, but Bianco had lived a long time, and there was a feeling of familiarity whenever she thought about that triumvirate coin. “Did he ever have coins that looked like these?" She took out her wrapped coins carefully, and opened it up for the ravens.
A shiver went through them, and they cawed, their peals echoing the hall. "No," they said almost as one. Their voices coming out like a slithering thing. She sighed in relief until they added, "The coin is the same but different."
"Same but different. Where is it? Can you show me?"
The way they said that made chills erupt on her body. She covered it. She had intended on keeping it here in the vault. That seemed to be the Dark Queens’ plan as well. But there was that feeling again. Not that she couldn't trust them or the vault. But that she couldn't trust the coin to be left to its own devices.
They opened their beaks, and the fountain of knowledge rippled. Bubbling up to the surface was a box that opened to reveal another ancient coin. She compared it to what was in her hand, and saw a few similarities, but it was mainly different.
She peered closer to the box, and saw that there was a space for another coin inside of it.
“Was there another coin housed here?” she asked.
“Yes,” Muninn responded.
"Who took the other coin?" she asked.
"We do not know,” said one.
"We are blind to that knowledge," said the other.
"Blind? As if whoever it was couldn't be seen?" Immortelle asked.
"Yes," the birds said in unison.
Immortelle needed clarification. “So someone could have possibly entered into this room under magick and been hidden from your sight?”
When they again said, yes, she was decided. She didn’t feel right leaving such a coin here even if the Dark Queens thought it best. She would carry it in her pocket. She felt better with it close to her.
"Who else knows about this? Is it public knowledge that there is a coin that is missing that is supposed to be here? That there is a way to bypass your security somehow?"
Kennings looked mortified. "Surely not! There is a reason why people would trust this place. It is secure."
"And yet I'm looking at a place that is supposed to have a coin that doesn't have a coin. You don't find that odd, Kennings?"
"Well, of course it's irregular, but there could be a number of other reasons why--"
"All of which I don't have time for. If there is no record of the withdrawal, and if your books still say that for all intents and purposes, it's supposed to be here, then where is it? Was it miscataloged? Organized into a box labeled ‘old photos’ instead?"
"Don't be ridiculous. We only house priceless artifacts and memories."
"Some of which can’t be located." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Keep searching. I want to know the moment anything is located or a hint of something is revealed."
* * *
Rolph had waited for her in the catacombs between the blood bank and rectory. "Did you get what you needed?"
“Yes and no.”
"Any answers about that fallen human? Why she might have been killed?"
Immortelle could surmise why she was killed. The coin that burned in her pocket could have been a big reason. Her work with the pixies another. But, no real answers. "No, and that's the pity. She was supposed to have information for me. At the very least, I was supposed to tell her that I was safe."
It started out as a cough, but it ended up as a sob.
Immortelle covered her mouth, and closed her eyes against the rising tide of emotion that she hadn't expected. Rolph's warmth enveloped her, a firm, strong hand placed on her shoulder. Bracing her. It was that borrowed strength that allowed her to remain in control of herself.
Her eyes fluttered open and she took two steadying breaths. A quick inhale and a long exhale each. Rolph's wing spanned around her. They were gray and looked like stone. But if she reached out to touch them, she was sure that they would be soft and velvety to the touch.
They were only stone when they were in daylight.
"You're safe," he said, voice gentle though cragged with age and eons of battles. "Even though she has passed, her spirit knows you are well and is glad for it."
Immortelle pursed her lips and nodded. She was safe. She was alive. She had the power to get things done. And sure as hell, she was going to use it and win.
"Yes. She was. And is." She wiped her face and with one more steadying breath, she turned to leave.
Rolph's wings retracted and folded over his body like a cloak once more. "I just wanted you to know, were these different times, I would have proudly followed you into battle."
Immortelle smiled. "If these were other times, there would be none who could resist my call for battle." The fervor of holy fire would have sparked flames in those who saw her in her full glory.
Ah, those were the days.
Altars of worship were few and far in between these days. Sanctuaries fueled them all as a collective. Those who were unable to adapt faded and withdrew from the Mortal Coil, and lived only in their respective territories.
"I'd only heard of your prowess, but even as a mortal, you are formidable."
She paused mid-step. "I'm ignorant of the current events, allies are being torn apart, and I'm at the center of arcane conspiracies? Add to that the mortal thing you alluded to. How does any of that make me formidable?"
His sculpted face was remarkably animated. The crags and grooves of his features only emphasizing the honesty in his gaze. "Because despite all that, you are unbowed, neither are you reckless in your pursuit. Both in this regard and when you sought justice for your husband's death. Your aim is measured and steady. Worthy qualities in a leader. And ally."
She felt it would be gauche to belittle his sentiment by denying his words, and so nodded in response, letting his sentiments flow over her. "I just thought about something. Measured. Steady." She wasn't visible to anyone. Only a few people knew that she would meet Ophelia again. There was always the possibility of being overheard, of course. That was always a bother.
But a simpler truth prevailed in her mind, though she didn't want to give it power.
And the simple truth was this: Someone had betrayed them. Must have, for Ophelia to have fallen.
"Rolph, do you know anyone in that police precinct? Or do you have a way to get information from there?"
"Of course. We are everywhere. What would you need? Would you need entrance or retrieval?"
Immortelle bit her lip. She wanted to ask for retrieval, but there was just so much that she suspected that she didn't want to. And she felt the need to see with her own eyes, and take in the information.
After all, maybe there was something on the body that the medical examiner may have missed.
Decided, she told him what she wanted. "Would they talk to me, though? I won't have that same mind powers that immortals would have over a mortal."
He smiled. "Leave that to me."
Author Note
I am forever grateful for all of the fairy tales, myths, legend, and folklore that I devoured in my childhood. These stories were a source of comfort and escape, but more than that, they provided an unconscious blueprint of what a truly courageous person was supposed to act.
They were never perfect, and many of them were kind of dumb, but they all learned. In these stories, some characters learned too late, and so experience tragedy while others were allowed to learn along the way. Those were my favorites, because I love the feeling of learning new information along the way with the character.
Maestra came from the idea that Immortelle had many teachers in her life, many sources of truth and wisdom. The one that she had yet to trust completely is love. Her story is one of navigating love in all its facets, and it’s been both a challenge and a delight to go through these struggles with Immortelle.
Hopefully, she will find the answers she seeks in Invicta.
Acknowledgments
Endless gratitude to my readers who read Nemesis and demanded more. You are amazing and I thank you so much for your encouragement and support.
Thank you to Yumoyori Wilson and Vivienne Hart for always having my back, especially when the words are hard to write.
Thank you to my readers in the Shadow Court--especially for my Inner Circle of Queens--for cheering me on and being so patient for the next book to arrive.
Special shout out goes to beta readers Lesley C., Jocelyn L., and Ashley Orianna (Aspiring Future Kidnapper of Authors Everywhere) for reading the first draft of this story, and not run away from the mess. You all are troopers.