Love and Blood (Evening Bower Book 2)

by Sherry Rentschler

  About two hours into the gala, a mysterious woman with chestnut hair, wearing a green corset over pink tights and knee-high green boots, found her way to the royal hosts. She bowed like a man. Her mask was all glitter.

  “And who do we have here?” Amor-el walked down the stairs and kissed the young woman’s pink-gloved hand. “You are decked in happy summer colors. We approve.”

  “Thank you, sir. My name is Pamela, but I am known by another name. It is my job to keep the forests pristine,” the guest said.

  “Then we applaud you, my dear.” Rhea handed over a basket of goodies.

  “Shall I call you Pam?” Am winked.

  “Poison Ivy is preferable,” the girl laughed and danced away. When she passed by Puck, she waggled her fingers at him and blew a kiss. Puck, aka Destin, grinned and waved back.

  Am frowned as he watched her leave.

  “Hey Pops, did you see her? Zephyr came as a comic book character. Cool.”

  “Yeah, Destin, cool.” Rhea gave Am a puzzled glance. “She’s not right, but I don’t know why,” Am added. Rhea twisted to catch a second look at Zephyr.

  “I think I know what’s wrong with her,” Cady whispered quickly. “Look at the banshee’s necklace.”

  Victoria opted to wear her amulets under her grey dress. One of them gave off a purplish hue which only added to the purple in her costume. She hadn’t noticed her amulet yet. Rhea looked down. Hers glowed purple too.

  “That is the warning for a demon. But look there, see how yours turns brown? That is because it’s not just any demon. I think she’s a changeling or a demon consort. Like a witch, they are good at glamour and compelling others. And runes.”

  “That’s strike one,” Am said softly.

  “Isn’t she Tobias’ girlfriend?” Dra hissed under her breath.

  “And that’s strike two,” Am snapped.

  “Oh let me have her at strike three,” Dra grinned.

  When the clock chimed midnight, Franklin announced the arrival of Herme the Hunter, the Leader of the Wild Hunt. Herme stomped into the woodland ballroom adorned in an oversized crown of antlers, and a cape made of bearskin. He was covered neck to toe in gold armor, his gauntlets leather with gold fastenings. In one hand he carried his sword and in the other, a basket of bones. His face hid behind a mask of white bones.

  Am stood very still, shock settling as he stared at his sire. Reaper circled the dais, growling low in his throat.

  Before the gathering, the Leader of the Wild Hunt swept his cape around in a grandiose gesture. He bowed his head to Oberon and rendered a more profound bow to the fantasy Titania. For a long moment, he stared at Rhea as if he searched for something. Finally, he placed his offering of a live fawn upon the dais steps, much to the delight of the crowd. Turning back to the watching guests, he said, “I beg your Highnesses to forgive my late arrival. I was waiting for my friend to join me.”

  As if on cue, the overhead lights in the ballroom went out. Sondra, who stood with Tyler and the rest of the crew, slipped away into the shadows. Cady caught the movement, and she followed Sondra into darker corners, effectively disappearing. Zephyr seized the moment to sidle up to a now free Tyler, setting her hand on his arm, her fingers skating over the new tattoo.

  Suddenly, a soft green light appeared in the hallway and from it emerged a large horse, a golden Akhal-teke. Atop this horse with the golden metallic-looking skin, sat a masked man with bright sea green eyes, pointed ears, and long, straight black hair. He wore a robe of deepest black, so dark it felt alive. Tendrils of something dangerous and deadly drifted off the cape and dissolved where it touched the light. A pine green tunic and black leggings completed his rustic look. He strapped a golden sword to his back along with a bow and a quiver of black-tipped arrows. On his head, he wore an obsidian crown decorated with pearls of blue, green and black.

  The horse stepped to the middle of the room and knelt before the dais. The tall rider dismounted and the horse disappeared. Everyone clapped, and a few whispered how the Riviere’s provided the best events, with the most exceptional magic. The rider overheard and smirked.

  Oberon and Titania stood and applauded the new arrival. Such spectacles were a part of the New Orleans Halloween fabric, and this costumed player truly represented the magic of the night.

  “My…queen,” said the rider and bowed so low his crown nearly touched the floor.

  Franklin tried to glean the rider’s name, but the guest refused to answer.

  “Sir knight, we would be pleased to know your name,” Rhea said in a friendly but official voice.

  “You know me. I sacrificed for you. I am the Summer Knight to Titania. But for you tonight I am the cloak of darkness, lover of the queen of phantoms. I am the King of Shadows. Tonight I wear the cloak of the evilest among our woodland kin, the Goblin King.”

  In the corner by the patio doors, Sondra fainted. Victoria gasped and grabbed Steel’s arm. Keta squealed, and once again, the gathering applauded.

  “Oh goodie,” Dra cooed as she coiled her crimson oblivion about her feet.

  The rider stared at Rhea with hatred blazing in every glance. She started down the dais stairs but Am hissed and tried to stop her. Rhea gently pushed him away.

  “It is all right, my love, I think I know who this is.”

  The great clock in the hall chose the moment to announce the midnight hour. Hoping to diffuse the tension, Franklin commanded the room to unmask. Friends and strangers pulled off their disguises. The ballroom erupted into applause and gawking revelers. The dais drama passed.

  Except for Rhea. She removed her lace mask, and Amor-el did the same. They faced their guest who also removed his black mask to reveal the most handsome elf Rhea ever saw. And the most unhappy.

  “I would guess you are Prince Vaeryl,” she said.

  “And you would be correct, phoenix,” said Duke Selwyn who approached from their side. “May I present the real Prince of Summer, Knight to the real and only Eternal Queen of the Fae, Dark Sea Prince of the Arctic Elves of Evindyll and the bereaved father of three dead children, murdered by your hand or your command. Here is Prince Vaeryl.

  Suddenly the ballroom quieted, and Rhea swayed feeling the wash of the prince’s powerful magic surrounding them. Elves don’t do magic or spell with magic. Elves are magic. Magic is the fiber of their being and why Reaper began to growl in earnest. Dra moved beside Am, prepared to strike.

  Rhea’s heartfire blinked, and she gasped as the embers inside her flickered. She shuddered with a sudden chill. The Prince noticed and offered her his hand.

  “Permit me to assist you.” His voice felt warm and sounded sincere and solicitous. Rhea accepted his gloved hand.

  “Wonderful idea. Gives me a chance to connect with my son. Hello Jean-Louis,” Selwyn smiled. He reminded Am of a wet snake. “Destin, where are you boy? Come, join your father and me.”

  Destin moved out away from the floor where he danced with none other than Keta. She bounced along with him, curious, but when they reached the Duke, Selwyn turned on the girl.

  “I speak to my family, my brothers in the night. Human rabble does not interfere.”

  Victoria reached a stunned Keta first and eased her away from the vampire. Dra watched the exchange and made a mental note to deal with his royal arrogance with some of her royal prerogative, later.

  The mini orchestra announced the last song and couples rallied from their surprise to take to the ballroom floor in the last dance. Round the ballroom guests swirled, a magical dance of the macabre under twinkling blue lights, breathing the sweet aromas of scented candles and the perfume of ancient roses. No one noticed how Cooke replaced the blue roses many times and tossed the dead ones in the trash. The rate they were dying was alarming, but for now, they were a colored illusion in the decorations.

  Guests milled around the dining room to grab one final mouthwatering morsel of petit fours, salmon cakes, and fruit tarts. The mayor tried to hire Cooke away from the bower, which gave
the mature woman a fit of giggles. Mace openly flirted with her and promised to send her some of his favorite Cajun recipes. She vowed to make them for him.

  As the gala came to its final hour, Selwyn faced his family.

  “Father, isn’t this wonderful?”

  “What do you want? Why did you come in secret?” Amor-el demanded.

  “What happened to the manners I know your mother taught you, boy?” Selwyn chided. “Or is this as a result of living with a taint, an unpure soul so corrupted by time that you do not realize how uncouth you have become? No matter, I come to correct the situation. Starting tonight.”

  Amor-el snarled, bared his fangs and allowed his new, inner fires to flare inside.

  “You would do well not to anger me,” Am whispered.

  “Sire. You could call me Father, though we both know I am not. Still, I don’t think Thérèsa would mind. I am your new father after all. And I remind you that I am the one angered here. Let us not play games with one another.”

  “What does he mean Pops? Isn’t he your father?”

  “I will explain another time, son. For now, why don’t you rejoin the party?”

  “No, Destin, stay,” Selwyn commanded. “I believe I want him with me, Jean-Louis. Destin and I enjoy each other’s company, and there remain things we need to do. Destin, do you know where the book is?”

  Destin blinked and considered. Am shook his head at his son, but the gesture was so slight that Destin missed it.

  “Yes, grandfather but I can’t lift it. It has an alarm and…and it is heavy.” Destin shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down.

  “What a whiner you are. Your mother’s doing, of course. Born of her you must be like her because you are certainly not like my blood.”

  Amor-el felt his fingers tingle. He sensed his fire rising though he didn’t call it.

  Rhea.

  Destin felt it too and he looked at his father with surprised eyes.

  “Run to your mother, Destin. Hurry, son.”

  Before Selwyn could comment, Destin bolted from the ballroom. Selwyn was not going to be stopped this time and gave chase. Amor-el closed his eyes and called to his mate’s fire.

  “My Ethyrea,” he whispered, “where are you? They are coming.”

  “Garden,” came the weak reply and he followed the odd thrumming of his beloved’s heart.

  Destin, Amor-el, and Selwyn stopped in the hall. They could see outside to the side garden where Prince Vaeryl paused, his arms spread wide.

  The Prince held his golden sword aloft, and it glowed with a pale sea-green aura. He shone his light on the mansion and intoned, “I command all magic to be broken, all glamour to end and all false spells to be undone. Reveal all and present to me in original form. By my calling to the Queen. Obey me.”

  Suddenly every amulet cracked and broke apart. Victoria gasped as she saw her handiwork crumble. Masks dissolved into ash. Every glamour fell away. Upstairs The Great Book sighed. Surprised guests gasped as odd jewelry pieces popped and broke or faces altered. Again, many decided this was part of the Halloween allure.

  In the ballroom, Dra felt another presence close to her. She turned and faced a changed Zephyr. Her face was pale gray as her eyes, her teeth were long and sharp but not vampiric, and her ears elongated into curled points. Where she once wore a wig, she revealed thick black hair with gray and green ends.

  “Demon,” Dra hissed and drew her glickris.

  “Not really. I’m a changeling witch, sister. I make the night mine same as you. Only I can write the outcomes in your flesh,” she bared her teeth. “Or I can get someone else to do it for me. Poor Janice, if only she hadn’t resisted.”

  Dra howled and leaped for the woman, but Dra was too slow. A massive beast lunged, grabbed a screaming Zephyr, and dragged her across the room. Snarling and angry screams followed.

  “Reaper!” Dra commanded, but it wasn’t her hound who attacked the changeling witch. Reaper immediately appeared at her side, huffing with impatience, salivating for a fight. She turned toward the sound of snarling and found Zephyr barricaded in a corner by a very large black jaguar.

  “I hate magic,” Dra snapped. “No time for you, lucky kitty.” She grabbed Reaper, and they ran out the side door toward the bower’s rose garden. Dra didn’t know how but she knew that’s where the Prince held Rhea.

  Zephyr screamed and rubbed her arms. Tyler suddenly grabbed at his arm’s tattoo and searched for her. “Kill it,” Zephyr yelled. Tyler jumped the cat who rolled to the side. Instinct took over, and the great panther snarled and swiped at Tyler with a massive paw. He was no match for the cat’s strength. Claws caught him in the throat and threw him across the floor. Blood spurted like a fountain. Tyler never moved.

  Keta had followed Tye-dye, and she saw everything. She screamed as panicked guests ran out the front of the house. That magic was just too real, they would say later. The acrid scent of blood tainted the air.

  Franklin was already on the phone calling for an ambulance. It would take too long for them to arrive and effect any rescue, but laws were laws.

  Mace removed his gun and aimed at the spot where the scream originated. In the dim light, he saw Tyler’s twisted body on the floor laying in a growing pool of something wet. There was no sign of any animal, including the big dog. Keta fell to her knees beside Tyler and sobbed, soon joined by Victoria and Seth.

  “Great Goddess, where’s Sondra?” screamed Victoria as she stared across the room at an immobile Tyler. She ran to Keta and gagged as she slipped in the blood.

  Seth searched the room for signs of other attackers. “Cady’s missing too,” he yelled.

  Cooke hurried to the young man’s side, but when she rolled him over, she fought back her tears. Nothing would help him now.

  Steel called out from the porch off the ballroom and motioned for them to follow.

  Victoria clung to Keta and pulled her close. “We have to find Sondra and…and…the others. Rhea needs us.” She swallowed a sob.

  They had no idea where they were going but somewhere out in the dark, Rhea’s destiny unfurled.

  Across the lawn, Victoria spied Destin and Amor-el racing into the gardens.

  “There,” she cried and pointed ahead. Steel, Seth, Victoria, and Keta ran after them as if they had demons on their tails.

  Mace watched the runners head for the garden and waited as the police and the ambulance arrived. Franklin directed them to the ballroom.

  “What happened here?” the EMT asked.

  “Rabid dog,” Mace said with a shrug. Cooke and Franklin stared at Mace but remained stoically silent.

  “Rabid? Is it safe?” a cop asked backing away.

  Mace yanked out a small flashlight and scanned the ballroom. He stopped when his light captured the face of Cady Silva. She hid behind a corner drape of ballroom curtains. Her eyes glowed yellow in the bright light, the same sort of eyes he saw in the jaguar moments ago.

  “Yes, it is now,” he said more to Cady than to his people.

  A second scream punctured the calm, and he jerked in the sound’s direction. Quickly he moved the light back to the corner, but Cady was gone.

  “Stay here,” he commanded sharply. He holstered his gun and rushed out the ballroom doors. He hoped he caught whoever, or whatever, out there before someone else died.

  IN THE CENTER of the Bower garden, the enormous fountain provided the sole light for the tableau of players. Rhea’s strength waned with each step, and Prince Vaeryl took advantage of her flagging spirit with his constant verbal attacks. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and shielded her baby, disconcerted by her sudden lack of power. When she caught sight of her loves, her instincts called on her fire, but it felt weak and ineffectual.

  Selwyn arrived at the garden after Vaeryl. He waited for his two disappointments who followed moments later. Selwyn railed against Rhea, taunting and deriding her as if urging her to use her power. Because she sensed a threat if she did, she willed calm an
d used all her heat to shield the child.

  The rest of their friends, Seth, Steel, Victoria, and Keta, followed close behind. Together they watched an angry duke volley insults at Rhea.

  “She’s too calm. Why doesn’t she do something?” Keta asked, her voice trembling.

  “Wait for it,” hissed Dra who knew her little birdy all too well and expected Rhea to strike at her attackers.

  The fountain’s light had limited range. On the edge of the shadows, Reaper paced as his mistress considered her next move. Dra’s mist, a product of old gypsy magic, dissolved because of the prince’s dampening command. Though frustrated at her loss, she didn’t need the crimson oblivion to use her skills. Dra licked her fangs and prepared to face off against the Duke at the first opening. She watched for a sign from Rhea or Am.

  Across the lawns, the beloveds’ spirits connected. Am’s eyes locked to Rhea’s. Her reactions bewildered him. Those blue eyes normally punctuated with dancing fires deepened to violet before her fire took control and her irises blazed red. The color signaled the depth of her blood’s fury. He recognized that anger, had seen it when Nathan attacked, and knew what she could do. But this time, when Rhea’s anger cooled enough to ignite her winged self, her eyes illuminated gold and bright. That’s when Am felt fear. This was a different phoenix, one he could not identify. This unique blaze within her whispered with a strange potency, and he felt the danger as it called him. He yanked Destin down on the ground and whispered for him not to move or draw attention to their position.

  “Papa?” Destin stared at his mother. “What is happening?”

  “When the phoenix takes over, she kills, son. Do not make her notice you.”