by K. M. Shea
Besides, Elite Bellus was an important-enough figure, he could talk to the Paragon himself.
“I don’t think the Paragon is hanging around the Midwest just for funsies,” I carefully said. “He might be another excellent ally.”
Elite Bellus studied me for a few moments. “I see. Very well. Thank you for the recommendation. I shall make an appointment to speak with him. Though he is technically more important than Killian, I am man enough to admit he scares me less, and is much more friendly.” He glanced slyly at me.
I copied one of Killian’s signature looks and raised an eyebrow. “That means you’re still hoping I’ll talk to Killian for you?”
“I am!”
I sighed. “I’ll mention to him you’re re-thinking some previous positions. But I’m not going to play mind-reader and tell him what you want. You’ll need a seer for that.”
“An opening from you will help pave the way.” Elite Bellus peered at me with an appraising expression.
He had looked at me similarly at the Summer’s End Ball. Recalling our conversation from then, I was quick to say, “I’m not Killian’s one, you know.”
“Mmm.” He casually glided over my somewhat defensive statement. “Regardless, an opening is all I need. For now.”
“Fabulous,” I drawled. “If that is all, I need to slip out. I am pretty sure the meeting is going to start soon, and I want to take my seat.”
“Naturally! Thank you, Adept Medeis. I appreciate your aid in this matter.” Elite Bellus winked at me, then strolled back the way we’d come, whistling as he went.
I watched him for another moment, wondering if I had made the right choice, then slipped into the assembly hall through the side door.
The room was by no means full, but it didn’t look like many vampires were lingering outside the main doors, so the meeting would probably begin soon.
I picked my way through the chairs, ignoring the red eyes and pinpricks of white fangs that flashed at me as I made my way to House Medeis’s spot. A few vampires sniffed then hissed as I passed, irritated by my foul-smelling blood.
I wasn’t too concerned—I could clear the room with a few drops of my blood—and I knew from my training that between my magic and fighting skills, I could get the drop on the average vampire. Possibly even a few Elders—the Family leader.
I caught Great Aunt Marraine’s eye and waved when I was just a few steps from our chairs, but Killian intercepted me, stepping in front of me.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yep. I’ve got some things to talk to you about, but I’m guessing we don’t have time?”
“You can tell me as we take our seats.”
“Our seats?”
Killian nodded at the dais—which was positioned to be the center of attention in the room. At the top level of the dais was a fancy desk with two chairs.
“I am not sitting up there with you,” I said.
Killian frowned slightly. “Why not?”
“I’m not going to let you use me as a method of intimidation, and I don’t want to get dragged into vampire politics!” I growled.
Killian actually heaved his eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t want you to sit next to me for political reasons. Really, you’re starting to be almost as paranoid as I am.”
“What possible reason could you want me up there with you?” I demanded.
“Did I not say I was inviting you because I missed you?” Killian stressed. “That’s why I want you sitting with me.”
I uneasily rolled my shoulders—we were getting back into territory I wasn’t totally comfortable with because we’d never really taken the time to define what we were. (We never had the chance—or we hadn’t, until we’d resumed our…friendship?)
I glanced at the chair. “Okay, but what is everyone else going to think?”
“What I want them to think, and what I’m attempting to display.”
“I knew politics were wrapped up in this somehow,” I muttered.
“That was your cue to ask what I’m attempting to display.”
“Fine. What are you attempting to display?”
“That we’re equals.”
His response surprised me so much my balance actually wobbled for a moment. “I’m sorry…what?”
Killian adjusted his cuff links and grinned slightly at me. “I’m the Eminence. No one sits on the same level as me. If I was trying to make a statement that you were under my power I’d tell you to stand with Celestina. But by giving you a seat next to me, I’m stating we’re on equal footing. It will show just how highly I think of you.”
I had to admire Killian’s sharp intellect and the way he could understand politics. More and more it seemed to me he wasn’t the tyrant of the Regional Committee of Magic just because he was powerful and intimidating. Rather, he understood power structures, and how to communicate without words.
Normally, that might make him even more scary.
I mean you have a fabulously rich vampire who rules over his physically superior race uncontested and is generally feared. Why not just throw in genius-like brains for good measure?
But this actually reassured me. Because Killian would use his same ridiculous intellect against the Night Court.
Still musing on the implications, I thoughtfully pressed my lips together and glanced out at the vampires.
Pale faces and glassy red eyes stared back at me.
“And,” Killian swept a hand through his hair, showing how relaxed he was despite the stares, “if you sit next to me, we can talk to each other and increase the fear we inspire together without anyone knowing I’m just asking you how long you fed my underlings expired blood packs.”
“Huh?”
“I talked to some of the kitchen staff this week about a few…plans. They mentioned missing how you rotated the fresh and old blood packs in the fridge for them.”
“Oh. Yeah. Okay, fine,” I massaged my forehead and hoped I wasn’t going to regret this. “Let’s do it. But now I want to know what shady plans of yours required input from your kitchen staff.”
Killian flashed his fangs at me and sauntered off to the dais without replying.
I waited until I caught Great Aunt Marraine’s eye again, then motioned after Killian.
The sassy old woman wriggled her eyebrows at me then smoothed the bright pink stripe in her silvery hair.
I shook my head at her, then hurried after Killian.
Instantly my phone started buzzing. I glanced down at it to see it was a message from Momoko and Franco, who were seated with Great Aunt Marraine and the two other wizards who had opted to come, April and June.
A quick swipe silenced it—I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know what that duo had to say to me right now—and I climbed up the short set of stairs.
Killian had really planned his attack—there was a steaming mug of tea and a cup of water waiting for me, as well as a little bowl of fancy European chocolates.
“Nice.” I plopped down in my chair, which was so big and ornate it felt like it swallowed me. “Are you ready to hear what the Elite had to say?”
Killian stabbed a straw through a blood pouch. “If I must.”
I blabbed a summary of my conversation with the Elite—focusing on the fact that the Night Court was in trouble with the other fae, and staying away from Elite Bellus’s thoughts about intermingling. (That was a different conversation for a different day, preferably over the phone when Killian could try and charm me with his smokey voice but not touch me and set my brain on fire.)
“Interesting,” Killian said when I finished.
I watched him as I peeled a shiny wrapper off a chocolate. “He said you probably knew all of this already.”
“I did.” Killian steepled his fingers and studied me. “But that he gave you the information anyway is very curious.”
I shrugged. “I gave you the message, so as far as I’m concerned I have nothing more to do with it. How is the turn out for the meeting?”
I stared out at the vampires—it looked like there was closer to a hundred vampires than twenty-nine. “I assume that more than one representative is attending per Family?”
“Yes. It seems most Families sent between two to four reps each. Eleven Families only sent representatives. For everyone else, the Family Elder is in attendance.”
“Those are pretty good numbers, right?” I asked. “Considering you said it can sometimes be hard to get the Elders to start moving.”
“You make them sound like large boulders that merely need enough momentum to build up speed.” His left eyebrow twitched in irritation. “If only that were so.”
Killian had previously explained to me that one of the biggest dangers for a vampire Elder—the upper crust of an already dangerously superior species—was the tendency to grow apathetic in their old age. He said he thought it was caused by the weariness of life—of seeing kingdoms rise and fall, and history repeat itself again and again while they were forced to lose everyone they loved—but it usually amounted to the Elder never leaving their home, or possibly even falling asleep and never waking.
This dangerously left the younger vampires without proper leadership, and meant that those making the decisions weren’t always vested or thinking clearly.
“More Elders attended today because even in their feeble stupidity, they dare not miss this meeting as there is a possibility it will become a war council,” Killian said.
“What?” I nearly rocketed out of my over-sized chair. “What happened to leaving them out of it and a war being the worst-case scenario?”
“I never said I planned for it to become a war council,” Killian said. “Obviously, I’ll be aiming to redirect them, and that was why I spoke with my kitchen staff and learned of your blood-pack rearranging habits.”
“Are you thinking of throwing a party or something?”
“Given the seriousness of the topic, there will need to be a follow up meeting. However, I can communicate that I am unworried about a war and keep their nerves down if I pose the meeting as more of an informal dinner party at Drake Hall.”
I thought for a moment or two. “I think I understand. When Solene-the-murderous-Unclaimed-vampire was on the loose you kept things formal and tight by having meetings here at the Cloisters. Now you want to convey the opposite, hence the party at Drake Hall.”
“Precisely.”
Appeased, I leaned back and took a sip of the warm drink—some kind of green tea with a faint blueberry flavor.
The assembly hall doors swung shut, and Celestina took up her position in front of the dais, then bowed to Killian.
He gave her a nod and leaned back in his chair, looking almost royal as a small smirk twitched on his lips.
Celestina squared her shoulders and faced the gathered vampires. “I, Celestina Drake, First Knight of the Drake Family, call this meeting of local Families into session, under the judgment of His Eminence Killian Drake.”
“So it will be,” the vampire attendees chorused together.
“As it was stated on the invitation,” Celestina continued, “we are here to discuss the actions of the Night Court after they attacked His Eminence here in the neutral territory of the Curia Cloisters, on the night of…”
I inclined my head slightly in Killian’s direction and hid my mouth behind my mug. “Why is Celestina doing all the talking? Don’t you have to run this thing?”
“Why should I when I have a charismatic First Knight who can do the work for me?” Unlike me, Killian didn’t try to hide that we were talking. His voice was hushed, but he openly swiveled his head to look at me and ignored Celestina’s review of the attack.
I set my mug down—there was no sense hiding if he wasn’t going to. “It has to be literally part of your job description.”
“The best part about being Eminence is that no one can actually tell me what my job description is,” Killian said. “That’s the point of doing all the work to climb to this position.”
I scoffed. “You did not do all of the work of getting this spot because you were sick of people telling you what to do.”
“No, but it is an added bonus.” Killian’s smirk turned mischievous before his expression cleared all together. “I have Celestina run the meetings because it’s the easiest way to gauge their reaction. When I don’t speak and remind them I am present, they’re more likely to run their mouths and say what they’re really thinking. I want that because if they’re really that stupid they may say something I can use against them, and at the very least it lets me see what they really think rather than only seeing them react in fear of me. For a leader, listening is far more important than shows of power.”
I frowned so deeply I could feel my forehead wrinkle. “You did that the night I burst in on the vampire meeting.”
“I did,” Killian confirmed.
“I didn’t even notice you were there. I nearly died when you spoke.”
“It is a very effective tool.”
I grudgingly nodded, and returned my attention to Celestina’s run-down.
The vampires listened patiently to her recount of the Curia Cloisters attack, but I could see signs of anger swirl by the time she moved on to describing the fight at Leila’s place.
Some of the younger-looking vampires—and by ‘younger-looking’ I mean they wore clothes that appeared to come from historical periods after 1910 given that all vampires had that waxy ageless look to them—fidgeted and started to get squirrelly, while the more middle aged vampires—those dressed in clothes from early AD centuries—pursed their lips and began to mutter to one another.
I studied the vampires that I thought were Elders—the male vampire in a toga was obviously one, as was the vampire dressed in black and white robes that looked Chinese to my uncultured eye, and a vampire that resembled a Viking. They were more guarded in their reactions, but they couldn’t stop the red of their eyes from glowing in anger.
Regardless how he got his position, it was clear Killian was respected enough that the vampires were deeply offended by the attack.
“The instances have been recounted.” Celestina wove her long fingers together and folded them in front of her. “What, then, do you have to say?”
There was silence for about two moments before a female vampire wearing a ruffled blue dress that made her look like a model from the 50s leaped to her feet. “We ought to attack them!” She shouted. “How dare they accost our Eminence in neutral territory! Let us storm their castle in the fae realm and slaughter them all!”
“You said it, kid!” A vampire with a thick black mustache and equally thick eyebrows leaped to his feet, his polka dot tie askew. “We oughtta smack some sense into those no-good fae—give ’em a good pop!”
Killian watched for a moment more, then leaned in close to me. “It is worth noting,” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear, “that the Elders for these outspoken, young vampires are absent.”
“You mean they wouldn’t say this if their Family Elder was around to rein them in?” I asked.
Killian nodded slightly, then returned to lounging in his chair.
A woman in a Japanese kimono snapped a fan shut. “What has been the reaction from the other fae Courts?”
“They are unhappy,” Celestina reported. “There are political ramifications for breaking Cloister law, of course. It is believed that they are putting pressure on the Night Court, but we cannot say to what extent.”
“A war, then,” a vampire shouted. “Against all the fae in the Midwest!”
“Hear, hear!”
“Yeah!”
As Killian had predicted, it looked like the most excited vampires were all younger. Only about ten or fifteen percent of the vampires present seemed eager to fight. The rest sat back with narrowed expressions.
Killian let it carry on for a few minutes before he spoke. “There will be no war between fae and vampires.”
Instant silence—it was almost like magic.
Killian slowly dragged his gaze across the room, his dark eyes slicing through the attendees with the finesse of a sword.
The only noise I could hear was my own breathing. Everyone was absolutely still.
“If we declare open war on all fae Courts it will lead to an unnecessary, large-scale conflict that will only waste resources and lives.” His voice was pitched extra low, but I’m pretty sure even the vampires tucked in the farthest corners of the room could hear him as if he stood next to them. “It is possible the Night Court may elect for a certamen or a duel of one degree or another,” he continued. “But any physical conflict will be contained—only involving the Night Court, the Drake Family…and House Medeis.”
Whispers rolled through the room, and more than one jaw dropped.
“Wizards, Y-your Eminence?” the vampire in the toga said in a strangled voice. “You’re trusting wizards to join the fight?
“Of course,” Killian said. “Adept Medeis protected my First and Second Knight in the Cloisters. She and her kinsmen sheltered my underlings when they had no way to defend themselves. I am gratified by their help, and I know they will be key players in the coming conflict.”
“What about us?” a vampire somewhere in the back demanded. “The Stewarts have served you loyally, yet you will not allow us to join the fight?”
“The Beckets have served even longer than the Stewarts!”
“As have the Romeros!”
Killian barely narrowed his eyes, but I felt waves of power explode from him. His eyes heated like coals, and all the vampires were slammed back against their chairs, seemingly by his raw presence. “Enough.”
Again, there was silence.
Killian held them there, his immense powers hovering over us. I’d never met a fully transformed dragon shifter, but I had a feeling this was what it felt like—the impression of teeth and an icy death that pressed down on you from above.