A Lady of the Realm (House of DeDe)

by Sharon E Mamolo

  “I thought we agreed not to lose our tempers in bed?” I asked.

  “I’m not angry, merely frustrated.”

  “This position doesn’t give me a warm fuzzy feeling much less make me want to discuss anything with you.”

  “Stop playing games with me. I didn’t bring any tolerance tonight.”

  He didn’t budge. His lips, inches from my ear, caressed my earlobe. If it wasn’t for the leak in his mind, I might’ve believed his words about not being angry. He was angry enough to strike someone, and I was the only one in the room. He held a tight, coiled control over his feelings of which I was envious.

  “I did make that stipulation. Thanks for sharing,” I finally said.

  He chuckled darkly and let me go.

  “I do enjoying keeping you happy,” he said, his lips caressing my neck.

  My anger melted just as quickly as it had formed. It’d been an insufferably long time since his body pressed into mine. Why should I worry over the attraction, the power he had over me? I should be worried about what he planned to do with the power not that he had the power.

  “I don’t like it when you play by your own rules,” I said. “We need conflict resolution classes.”

  “Nothing’s changed, pet. I simply needed your complete attention on the conversation. Please answer the following question: Would you rather I conduct business or stay with you for the rest of the evening?”

  He flipped me back over, and I curled my arms around his neck bringing him closer to me.

  “You work too much…” I whispered huskily.

  His naked body crushed mine, tendrils of electricity sparked where our skin touched. His hands, moving freely up and down my body, teased my thighs and hips with savage kneads. I whimpered, and the heat intensified between us. I wanted to feel him, to feel him inside of me. I opened my legs without hesitation when he nudged them apart with his knee. I groaned in pleasure as he filled me in one quick brutal thrust.

  I grabbed his hair and pulled down, bringing his head closer to me. Blood flavored our kiss. My hands came free, raking his back savagely. He pulled away, and I looked into his eyes. The face should’ve frightened me. His features contorted in pain and pleasure. Two dark orbs, violet sparks on the edges, stared into my eyes. I wasn’t afraid of him. I was enthralled.

  “Damn me, pet,” he said gruffly.

  We flipped over, and I landed on top of him. His hands clenched my hips, rocking me up and down. He took a nipple into his mouth and rolled it between his teeth, the pain in harmony with the rocking motion of our bodies. My nails raked his chest leaving bloody trails that immediately began healing as soon as I finished gouging them. He moaned softly and bit harder as I clenched onto his shoulder.

  “Sasha?” I moaned knowing he could interpret all my questions from the single word.

  “I know,” he murmured as he brought me closer to him. He began to buck up furiously in the primal need to finish.

  The screaming alarm was unexpected. It rang shrilly, loudly from everywhere. The same alarm which alerted the guests of Jeffrey’s demise. Sasha stilled underneath me, his eyes locked with mine.

  “Bloody hell,” he murmured as Sig burst through the doors.

  Sig stopped moving as he took in the scene. A grin spread across his face as he patted himself down. A cigarette appeared in his hand, and he lit it in one graceful movement.

  “Did I interrupt?” he asked us.

  “Not at all, Sig. I always get a massage with a dick stuck up my ass,” I said.

  “Be gone, Sigmund,” Sasha chuckled.

  “I’m too old for the antics of the young,” Sig said and closed the door.

  I looked down. Sasha’s eyes had lightened. They were light violet gems now. I brushed my hand against his lips.

  “Are you leaving?” I asked.

  “Not until you tell me to go,” he said with a smile.

  “You’re learning.”

  Chapter Thirty: Me and my Shadow

  He was dead. Found in his apartments early in the morning. Found on the couch, decapitated as he read a newspaper from his home seat. His lover still sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of what happened in the next room. Such propitious timing was a comment overheard many times in hushed whispers. The House couldn’t possibly survive this was yet another observation people couldn’t seem to keep to themselves.

  That was the news murmured throughout the ballroom. People stood in small groups gossiping behind their hands. Other people, braver people who enjoyed the attention, flitted from faction to faction. They couldn’t wait to share what tidbit they’d just heard. Everyone was talking about it, or the ramifications of it, or speculating on it. The whole affair was just plain tedious.

  Frank was dead, and the heir for the fairy seat was to be from another branch in the family. The gossip was running rampant on who could’ve done the killing. Conspiracy theories were running high. Many speculated that whoever killed Frank must’ve killed Jeffrey. Thus from that angle, Malachi’s cousins were the prime suspects.

  I had to admit, he was the perfect suspect. Lord Finis, a tall, slim man with platinum hair reaching the middle of his back, was positively glowing. Many Lords and Ladies made their way over congratulating him on his upcoming title. He tried to shake his head, and suppress the urge to cheer to the rafters. Yet his actions, his ticks, gave no one any doubt he was as happy as a two year old in candyland.

  I was waiting patiently for Court to start. Today was the opening of the American Court session for the year. Two, wait make that three, Houses were handing down their Regions to new rulers. It was the top three Houses, the baddest of the bad, which made people nervous. There was a lot of lofty preening and posing to impress the gathered throng. I stood dutifully next to Sig in our own people—free space and kept watch on the entertainment.

  The clothes were killing me. The ladies present, all garishly dressed for the occasion to show off their assets, stood in cloistered circles around the room. I calculated that if I striped all the ladies present, I’d have enough material for a twin flat sheet. Maybe even a matching pillowcase. Katie, the tramp I was coming to dislike more with every passing second, had on little more than a see through negligee. I swallowed a nasty comment when I saw her walk under a beam of light. She had nothing on underneath.

  The men strutted about like peacocks in a mating ritual on some prime time show found on Animal Planet. They would pace before the women, bowing or scraping as the occasion or lady in question called for.

  On the stage before the assembled group were nine spots, each with a placard for the representatives of the respective Regions. From left to right were the witches, the vamps, Jack’s shapeshifters, the werewolves, Sasha’s peeps, the faeries, demons, Benji’s good-natured brutes, and the men in black.

  Slightly to the right, with a podium between her and the gathered mayhem was where Gail refereed the council. She raised a pen when the room filled and tapped it on her glass of wine. The room vibrated with an eerie ping and all within became instantly stilled and silent. With everyone’s attention appropriately placed upon her, she spoke smoothly into the room.

  “As everyone is aware by now, Lord Frank was found dead early this morning in his rooms. As it happens, we’ve important business to conclude and cannot stop to mourn him properly. The first order of business on the agenda is replacing the ruler of Region Three. My House rules therefore I appoint Lord Malachi.” She finished her announcement by placing the pen down and picking up her glass of wine for a sip.

  There was a stunned silence in the room immediately after her words finished reaching the last ears of everyone gathered. Just as quickly, an uproar followed so loud the window panes shuddered in protest.

  “You can’t mean to name a half-blood, bastard shark as the next head?” Came the angry cry from one corner of the ballroom.

  “Are you mad?” Someone else called out from the back of the room.

  I heard, “No fucking way,” from the front
of the stage area. Several faeries were restraining Finis from taking a lunge at his aunt. Gail didn’t move, bat an eye, or otherwise bother to give any notice that her news wasn’t received with anything less than the happy joy a new mother is bombarded with on announcing the birth of her first child.

  Out of the collective confusion that seemed to be gathering speed and momentum towards a huge train wreck, Gaelen jostled his way to the front of the stage. He raised his hands and fired balls of light into the ceiling. That got everyone’s attention.

  “The original council will take a vote concerning Lord Malachi. He’s the last remaining blood of the House, half-blood or not; he has the right to sit. Nothing in our laws forbids him from taking a seat on the council after he was acknowledged as having her blood.” He looked into the crowd, his blue eyes blazing red-rimmed, daring someone to challenge him.

  The head of the Houses went for their seats grumbling, and the tally began immediately. I looked over to Sig who was smirking from ear to ear. Rowland and then James affirmed the nomination of Malachi. Maria and Benji were a sure thing from how they treated him at dinner, and they didn’t hesitate to voice their pleasure at the choice. Jack and Wayne, the mafia banker, voted against him, but I wasn’t sure why Gaelen did. Jon abstained from voting.

  With his appointment over and confirmed, the new generation was introduced. Along with Malachi taking over Region Three in America, Sasha and Katie were also recognized as the official rulers of Region Two and One. Everyone settled into his or her seat afterward, and the floor opened for public address and business.

  My turn to face the council was early in the proceedings. I faced the assembled delegates and acknowledged my title and fealty to Lord Aleksander, House of Losalfar. Sasha didn’t blink when I gazed at him to give him my oath. He simply leaned back in his chair and folded his fingers, glancing at Malachi. Gail started to move on to next item on the agenda, but I interrupted.

  “Lady Gail, I’d like to take this opportunity to appoint a shadow,” I said.

  Gail blinked, unsure if she heard me correctly. “A shadow, dear?” she asked.

  “Yes, after careful consideration of all the facts I would like to have a shadow to share my life with,” I said.

  There were many rumblings throughout the Court. I knew those gathered had heard about me meeting with the witches. The witches in question had let everyone know I might be choosing a shadow, but the upper elite, the true aristocrats, didn’t think I’d go through with it. I was a witch after all.

  “Of course, dear. Who would you like to join with?” she asked.

  An expectant hush fell upon the room. I didn’t look at the seven women standing expectantly. I dared not glance at Sasha, now sitting forward upon the dais with his hands folded and chin resting on them.

  I held my chin up, my stomach churning with nerves and said, “Sir Sigmund from Azreal.”

  The gasps from the audience were audible and unfriendly. I did some added research of my own; I knew demons didn’t have shadows. I figured we could be a first. I hadn’t asked the demon, fearing he’d say no. I was hoping that he wouldn’t embarrass me in front of a room full of strangers.

  No one, including my boys, was happy with the choice. Sasha, his eyes black with rage, was staring laser beams at the demon. Malachi, his head tilted back, was levitating off the seat. The shifters, Jack, Katie, and Benji, were sprouting hair, feathers, and scales to some degree. Marias’s fangs had slipped out, the mafia banker had his hands over his head, and the demon fellow was glowing so brightly, I couldn’t distinguish his features. I glared defiantly at the council members, relieved no one came out and said it just wasn’t the right form.

  Sig came to stand beside me with a wide grin, kissed my cheek lightly, and squeezed my hand in reassurance. As Gail started the shadow ritual, I felt the first binds form connecting me with the demon. They started in my mind, seeped into my subconscious, and clutched my unknown spark of life.

  Our right palms were sliced open with an ornamental blade, the blood seeping out of the twin wounds in mirror images. Gail grasped our hands, tying them together with a red silk ribbon. She recited an incantation over us and sanctioned the union in blood and magic. The first wave of our new psychic connection hit me.

  Always a surprise, Beth, Sig said in my mind.

  I smiled demurely at Sig, and we bowed as one to the council, stepping back into the crowd.

  We stood around for hours as bills concerning money were discussed. Everyone seemed to owe someone something, and no one seemed ever to agree on what the sums were. There were bills on exchange of properties which one House or other was donating to some country or other in the name of philanthropic gestures. For their generosity, they wanted acknowledgement and a reduction on their tithe payments.

  Boundary lines were confirmed after much squabble. The fluid lines changed every year, and Sig said they fought every year. The lesser nobility again knew who collected their tithe. The same person they’d call in case of trouble.

  Sig, bless his evil heart, watered everything down enough that I grasped the fundamentals of the proceedings. By the end of the night, I was dead tired of listening to everyone bicker about every detail of every bill set before him or her. They were a bunch of kids about it. A bunch of freaky, murderous kids.

  Sig escorted me upstairs when the meeting adjourned for the night. I slipped into the bathroom throwing my unfashionable jeans and shirt into a corner as I stepped into a blissfully hot shower. I was finished within ten minutes and went to forage for some food in nothing but a robe. Sig was waiting for me with a drink in one hand and a shrimp po-boy in the other. My stomach growled loudly.

  “Ohh… Sig … are you trying to make me fall in love with you?” I asked and fell upon the offered goodies with alacrity. He chuckled, mussing my hair up.

  “You did well today. I thought you should be rewarded.”

  “Just like a faithful pet, huh?” I asked teasingly.

  “You do have your qualities.” He searched in his pockets for his never-ending supply of Kools.

  “It was Gail,” I said.

  “Excuse me?” he asked, grabbing a chair to sit next to me.

  “She killed her sons. I could sense it. Finis is the perfect scapegoat, and Malachi had an alibi for both nights. She wanted to put Malachi on the council.”

  “Why do you think?” he asked, conjuring up a bottle of water for himself. I hoped I got that good one day. It would beat me getting up and actually making a drink.

  “Isn’t it your turn for input?” I asked after I swallowed my bite of the po-boy. Sig sipped from his bottle and inhaled before answering.

  “I had the same idea when I heard Jeffrey was found in his quarters. Benji will pay for a double murder taking place in his Region, and we won’t hear another word on the matter.”

  “Should we tell Malachi?”

  “Malachi isn’t stupid, Beth. He knows the game.”

  That was effectively the end of the conversation. Why she wanted Malachi, instead of one of her other offsprings on the council was up for debate. She was rolling the dice I assumed.

  “Should I have asked you about becoming my shadow?” I asked, recalling the snickers in the ballroom.

  He looked me in the eye. “You should’ve at least asked about the possibility,” he said.

  “I didn’t want anyone telling me I couldn’t do it,” I said softly.

  He didn’t blink. He just stared as I gazed back at him. I felt him in my mind; I felt his presence, his aura. It was warm, comforting, and full of an unbending truth.

  “It doesn’t matter now; we’re tied for life. But there’s a reason demons and witches don’t have shadows, Beth.”

  I chewed and took a swallow of my drink. “We can’t always live in the past, Sig. I think not growing up in the Realm gives me more opportunities ‘cause I don’t instinctively do as expected. I hope you don’t mind. Think about it this way; you’re a Lord now.”

  “Lord Si
gmund. What a joke,” he said. He smiled and blew a ring of smoke in the air. “I don’t mind tying myself to you. It was worth it just to see the council member’s faces,” he said.

  “They did look pretty ticked off,” I said with a smile.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you made the best political move I’ve seen in eight hundred years,” he said sipping from his glass.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Yeah, but you do know better. I thought about it for a long time, Sig. You know what I drink, eat, can shift space, have great psychic abilities, and can heal just about anything. Plus, you address Sasha by Sasha so he must trust you.”

  Sig laughed, and a swarm of heady energy filled the room. It perfumed the air we were standing in like a field of lilacs and lavender. The strange surge of energy radiated out and towards Sig. I licked my lips, wiping my hands on a paper towel.

  “You’re not even trying are you, Beth?” Sig asked.

  “Is it me?” I asked confused.

  “Your heritage is surfacing. Can you smell the seductive aroma you’re unleashing?”

  Great. I was trying to seduce Sig without realizing it.

  “I’m going to practice control,” I said.

  I popped the last shrimp into my mouth and walked away from him. I stood at the door to my bedroom, my eyes glued to his morphing face. His eyes had begun to burn a deep red color. Not the usual red rim blaze I’d seen before. He closed them, waved his hand as if in dismissal and disappeared. Weird.

  I turned to my room and flipped my phone open. I wanted to sleep tonight. I was becoming spoiled. I punched the keypad and hit Sasha’s number. He picked up on the first ring.

  “Hey, you busy tonight?” I asked.

  I had already asked Malachi his plans and knew the half-breed had a business meeting tonight. Not knowing how long that would take, I had to settle for the elf.