“Not human?”
“See that blonde reporter over there in the second row?”
“Sally Blackheart?”
“Hmm, fitting name. She is a Succubus, women who can enter your dreams and feed off your sexual energies. They can do it in the flesh as well. Some may even kill you with your own pleasure. They live for sex and the energies it provides them, as such they are built for seduction and enchantment.”
“You expect me to believe that?” he turned to face her and was horrified at what he saw. There stood a stooped old lady wearing rags, her skin was sloughing off, pus oozed from between cracks but it was her eyes, they held the greatest despair he had ever seen. The next instant there was a young boy with blonde curls, white wings and pouting with gold lips. Then what he guessed Medusa had looked like, hair a coiling mass of snakes. Then Abraham Lincoln, Judy Garland, his mother then finally himself.
“Anything is possible with magic, I can turn into anyone and anything I want” she returned to her usually pale skin, large brown eyes (for public appearances), flowing brown hair and a black power suit. There was a peacock broach on her lapel.
“Several of the people in this room are not Human, one of your own security detail is a Werewolf, half the reporters are either Sirens or Lilin, and Senator Clare, your greatest support is a Maenad. Underneath those brown curls are natural green, under her clothes are leaf birthmarks. Once they know for who you stand for they will lend you their support.”
She pushed him through the door, then fell back to the edge of the stage with the security detail. He made his way up to the podium ignoring the glare of the flashing lights. His nerves were racing until he felt a cold pass through him leaving him calm. A quick glance at Hera and she smiled. Magic.
“Following recent events there has been a great deal of unrest within the government and we are trying to limit the damage and do what is best for America. We must do what is best for the people. Recent revelations about my sexuality have arisen and yes I am gay. I always have been but have hidden it for most of my life. In some ways, I’ve been ashamed and have denied myself happiness as a result. But being gay is political suicide and I had my ambitions.
Many people are calling for my resignation, even from within my party. And I am here to meet the needs of America.”
He paused and took a deep breath, he felt the magical embrace of Hera making him feel calm. “As such I will not be resigning. I was voted in for my politics, not my private life and I will finish my term. It is then in the voters hands whether I will be re-elected. In my own beliefs I help reflect the diversity within America, and our diversity should be seen in our government, even though it so often is not.”
There was a stunned silence, everyone had presumed that he would be resigning. Sally Blackheart was the first to jump forward “Sally Blackheart for CNN. What does your party have to say about your decision?”
He glanced at Abigail Clare, who smiled at him “The party is divided on my decision but I do have the strong support of several senators and the majority of the party respects my decision.”
“Senator Clare this is an unusual act on your part. Your policies tend to be very conservative.”
Abigail stood up, glanced at Hera then squared her shoulders “We are a democracy and are represented by a full spectrum of people and the Senate should reflect the people. Senator Worthington is an outstanding politician and while we may have different views on policies he is a true party member with the best interests of America at heart.”
“Will there be any changes to your policies now that you are openly part of the gay agenda?”
He almost snorted “What exactly is the gay agenda? I don’t know what it is. For Heaven’s sake, my sexuality does not instantly change my politics. Yes, I might have personal ideas on what should happen but I am part of the party and I will remain within line of the party.”
“But can you be absolutely sure this is for the good of America?”
Hera stepped forward instantly drawing attention to her, with her looks and presence it was instinctual to all the mortals in the room, “The Senator has answered all questions he is willing to. He has other commitments he must attend to. Any further questions will be resolved during a special interview” that drew mutterings, they wanted answers now.
She steered him out into the corridor, the security following them. He wondered what they thought of her, did any of them recognise her as the woman who had stormed his residence. That had caused a media sensation.
“Interview? What interview?”
“Your interview with Kelly Lee. Your story is the hottest thing in the tabloids, and she is the undisputed talk show queen since Oprah. Her opinions carry remarkable weight. She is going to endorse your run for the presidency.”
She put her hand on his shoulder, her eyes reverting to her stunning violet “You will be president and you will be a damn good one John. It will happen.” She pushed him into the car “Stay safe John I’ll return shortly.”
“Where are you going?”
She raised an eyebrow “New Orleans, I’ve got a king to bring into line.”
“King? What king? America has no monarchies.”
“Not for Humans but for Vampires they do.”
Then she was gone in a flash of darkness and the car was pulling away. What a strange place he was in.”
Hera stood outside the old mansion, cloaked in darkness as her instincts flared. Something huge awaited her here, more than the obese soldiers, more than just the Vampire King and his brethren or even the discovery of the Forsaken. There was something in this house, waiting for her, silently, unknowingly calling for her.
She glanced around the street crawling with Vampires. To the normal eye, it looked just like a busy street that celebrated a lot of parties but she saw past all glamour and illusions. The Children of the Night had always placed too much faith in their own glamour, they had ever been arrogant. Semi-immortals who fed on the blood of the living to sustain their undead state. Most were strictly nocturnal though some could endure the twilight. It was midnight, every Vampire was in their element.
Despite the variations within their species, all American Vampires paid homage to their local monarchs who sometimes, in turn, paid homage to more powerful state or regional monarchs. Currently, most of the eastern states were ruled by King Valentine. Which was why she was standing outside this colonial mansion in New Orleans. On a flight of fancy, he had moved his entire court to New Orleans after An Interview with a Vampire had been published. Which made sense for it had always had a very strong Vampiric influence throughout its entire history.
She dropped her cloaking darkness gradually as she stepped forward. To the Vampires around she walked out of darkness, coils of it lingering around her. She had always had a flare for the dramatics when it would work the most. Vampires were instinctual creatures, they responded to power. Those in power she found easy to mould with fear. By the time she got to King Valentine, his dead heart would be racing faster than a cheetah.
It was time she started living up to her reputation.
She walked through the ornate silver gate, designed to ward off the Were, darkness spreading in every direction from her. Every single spell designed to confuse, scare and keep people out was obliterated. Within their lair, the court suddenly lost all contact with the outside.
She felt every eye on the street and within the mansion turn on her with predatory intent. But she was not prey, she was the apex predator and they would learn that. The gates exploded around her and the Vampires went wild. They launched themselves at her from every direction, using every ability and skill at their disposal. She merely raised a hand and sent them all flying.
As she climbed the steps of the mansion she called fire to her arms, coiling it around her like playful pythons before surrounding her in concentric spinning circles. Fire was one of the few things Vampires feared though that was not common knowledge. Fire was the element of transformation. Transform
ation for Vampires meant death. Then she summoned sunlight- the most feared thing by Vampires. With very few exceptions sunlight was utter death for Vampires. Using the sunlight she blasted a hole through the front door of the mansion, leaving a slightly smoking crater as the entrance to the building. She simply air walked over the crater, deeper into the mansion. More and more Vampires were pouring into the corridors.
Using her magic, she probed the area and easily located King Valentine despite the layers of protective and illusion spells. She sealed him to his throne before he thought to leave. She didn’t feel like a wild goose chase. She felt a thrill as she sensed his fear climbing. She threw more Vampires out of her way as she walked into a large room.
Vampires stood at every doorway, their teeth dripping with saliva, their eyes glowing red. These were the mortal converts, used as foot soldiers. They were wildly dangerous, usually beyond reason, controlled by instinct and the minds of those who had turned them. The others had started hanging back as soon as she had summoned sunlight.
She stopped in the middle of the room and raised her arms. Green fire bloomed out from under her in a perfect circle. There were many screams as an explosion shook the house. She had blasted straight down through several layers of the house and under tunnels straight down into the throne room. Slowly with great composure and grace, she descended down through the hole.
As she did she summoned the night once again, forming living clothing that drifted and cocooned her, its smoky tendrils floating aimlessly around her. Looks were important in any setting, the darkness made her more ethereal and accentuated her pale skin. She had planned her entrance well.
The first King Valentine or his court saw of Hera was her descending in a halo of bright sunlight. Yet it became evidently clear she belonged just as much to the night, with darkness weaving its way all across her form. It literally clung to her like an affectionate pet. He was no fool, she was powerful beyond his understanding, more powerful than the combined court. That horrified him, it titillated him. Perhaps finally the tide was beginning to turn against the Angels.
Whoever and whatever she might be was becoming increasingly irrelevant. Most things did when you saw your own death coming towards you. What other reason did she have for storming the house? He spared a fleeting thought for his court. He genuinely loved some of them.
More Vampires threw themselves at her, to end up floating in the air constrained by her powers.
She stepped forward once she reached the ground, revealing beautifully long, pale legs. Strangely enough, she was wearing no shoes. Even stranger was the scorch marks she was leaving behind as her footprints. They were glazed with gold. She came to a stop before him eying him up as her dress resettled itself. Black and gold peacock feathers branched out from behind one shoulder.
“Who are you?” he asked quite civilly, far more than he usually would. The balance of power was completely out of his favour. He was more than anything else curious.
“I am the answer to your dreams, your most desperate desires.” She certainly was beautiful like a Goddess of the Night. “Not quite Valentine, I am not only of the night” He started a little “Yes Valentine I can hear your thoughts and the thoughts of every mortal in this room.” Her gaze swept the room, even taking in a couple of Succubi acting as ambassadors in his court.
He laughed “Mortals, most Vampires are immortal.”
“Not like I am. Your kind can be killed by sunlight, fire, a stake through the heart, Phoenix tears and feathers or being taken into any of the Angels’ places of worship.”
“That might be so but we are stronger than most, they cannot force us into a place sacred to God against our will, we are too fast for them to catch and burn or stake and some of us can even walk in the sunlight with no harm. As for Phoenixes, well they are long extinct.”
She smiled knowingly “Are they?” she raised a burning hand that quickly bloomed with fire. From the fire rose several birds, some looked like peacocks, others birds of paradise but they were all composed of living flame. Their eyes were the bright blue at the heart of any flame, their bodies were the reds, yellows and oranges that usually composed fire, but some of their decorative feathers were the bright greens, purples and other colours seen when chemicals were added to flames.
He did not seem overly impressed “Illusions do not undo the past.”
She simply smiled indulgently. The Phoenixes spread their wings, flames fanning out, sparks rained down on the floor as each of them took flight with shrieks. Each of the Vampires shrunk back into the retreating shadows, their instincts reminding them what they had long forgotten. Even Valentine could not doubt their existence, its shriek brought such instinctual fear to him, the sparks burned his flesh.
“What is your point? Why are you here?”
“Ah, I’m so glad you have asked young Valentine” She suddenly appeared at his shoulder, looking out across the throne room. Her voice rung out clear and commanding “The Age of Angels is at an end. Their tyrannical rule which has seen the slow and continual extinction of the magical races will be turned back. Heaven will burn. The Age of Gods will rise once again.”
“Who are you to make such claims? The Angels have been unopposed since the War of Heaven. The Gods are lost and the Angels rule with an iron fist, eradicating all the Daemon races they can find.” She reappeared dressed in her purple Grecian dress, a golden diadem and peacock feathers in her hair, she was about to speak when another voice answered.
“She is Hera, the true Queen of Heaven, Goddess of Power.”
A very ancient woman walked forward from the shadows. Her skin was paler than marble, her hair was just as faded in colour. She showed no other signs of Human ageing, her skin was smooth, her muscles still toned but to a Vampire, she looked ancient. There was a solidness to her features, a steady grace in all her movements. There was an air of great power about her. She could easily be a queen, she was the oldest Vampire in North America, was probably one of the oldest in the world. But she had no desire to rule, she had once had power beyond that of petty mortality.
Hera looked at her, her senses reeling at what she felt “Ariadne?”
She looked up, her once captivating eyes devoid of all colour. “I am honoured you remember me Hera, it has been so long since I have been in a temple of yours.”
“It has been a long time since I was in a temple of mine. I fear they were all destroyed a long time ago by the Angels.”
“You are wrong Goddess, one still stands and still has priestesses who light the flames of the Olympic Torch.” She stepped forward and raised her hand to the Goddess’s face, far overstepping the mark of any mortal. But Hera rewarded her. As soon as their skin connected, Ariadne changed. Her skin regained its once olive colour, her hair as black as night, her eyes became their once legendary midnight blue. She no longer looked like a Vampire, she wasn’t one any longer.
Hera took her by the hand “Come we have much to discuss” and together the two old souls left the throne room. No one spoke until Hera released all her spells which unceremoniously dumped all the Vampires on the floor.
Hera studied Ariadne while she prepared tea for the both of them. It was remarkable to think that this minor demigoddess had survived. She returned with the tea and sat down. “It has been a very long time since a Goddess walked the Earth. How is it that you are here?”
“Do you remember the Goddess Brigid?”
“No, but she was a Celtic Goddess from Ireland so adored by her followers that the Catholic Church had to make her a saint to try and convert them.”
That surprised her, she hadn’t known that. But that explained Brigid’s wings. “You are well informed.”
“I have spent my very long life researching each and every Goddess I can.”
Hera nodded before continuing “She was freed by an Arch Angel, a very bizarre Arch Angel. Running for their lives, she sought me out but could do nothing to free me from my imprisonment. I might be an immortal Goddess but I was cl
oser to death than life. Life was but the faintest flicker in my soul. The same Angel freed me and healed me. Together we fled to Mount Olympus but were followed by the Angels. In the descent, we were separated and I have been in America ever since trying to build up my followers...while once shy Brigid has claimed both India and Australia. Thankfully it has drawn attention away from me.”
“We have been wondering about the international headlines, we had begun to hope. But we never thought one of the Gods would come to America.”
“All the Native American Gods were slaughtered by the Angels, but that is what makes America safe to claim. The land cries out desperately for the Lifestream and someone who can wield it. The Angels have been busy watching Europe for Brigid and me while both of us set out for new lands. Neither of us could safely return. America is something new, and this as a new age. I love New York, the power there is intoxicating and once it is mine, I will be as powerful as I was when I was patron of the Roman Empire. But this time, I do not have to share or stand in Zeus’ shadow.” She accidently crushed the cup in her hand. She took a deep breath, she was free of her husband and would never have to submit to him again. The silver lining of the Angels’ Rebellion.
“What about you Ariadne? How did you end up as a Vampire in America?”
“When Dionysus was killed and absorbed by the Angels his gift of Divinity was stripped from me. Fortunately because I bore him so many sons, and it was within my genetics, I remained immortal but was stripped of all my Divine power. I was then unfortunately captured by Persians and sold as a concubine. Later I was shipped off for the Orient but on the way, the caravan was attacked by young Vampires. Their efforts to eat me were met with great difficulty, so instead they took me to their king.
The Angels' Pride Page 28