by Amy Sumida
“Fuck,” I hissed.
I was shaking with fury as I pulled my cell phone out of my purse. Why did I have to make that three-day bargain? I needed to get home! I dialed my father's number and held the phone to my ear as the men anxiously watched me. Well, Banning looked anxious, Sorin just looked intrigued. The call went to voicemail.
“Fuck!” I swore as I listened for the beep. “Dad, it's Thomas! Thomas has been taking the sirens! I'm one-hundred percent sure. Tell the Coven! I can't get to you immediately, so you're going to have to handle this yourself. I love you. Be careful.”
I hung up and immediately dialed Cerberus. He answered on the first ring.
“El, did you find out who it is?”
“Thomas,” I nearly shouted. “Tom Frost is the witch who's taking the sirens.”
“What the fuck?” Cerberus shouted. “No fucking gods-damned way!”
“I called Dad, but he's not answering, can you make sure he knows about Tom?”
“Yeah, of course,” Cer said immediately. “He's around here somewhere. We went back to the Coven.”
“Thank goodness,” I whispered. “For a second there, I thought maybe Thomas had done something to him.”
“Don't worry about it,” Cerberus said. “I'll handle things here until you get back. But hurry, Babe. You know the Coven is going to want you standing before them to verify that Thomas is a traitor.”
“I can't”–I grimaced at the phone–“I kind of made a deal with Dracula.” I stopped, held my hand over the receiver, and whispered, “Sorry, no offense.”
“None taken.” Sorin preened.
“Dracula?” Cerberus asked. “Vlad Tepes wasn't a blooder; just a fucking psychopath of the normal, human variety.”
“It's a joke,” I explained. “I bargained with Banning's blooded father for the information on Thomas. And by the way, thanks a lot for warning me that Banning's a prince.”
“Why? Does it make a difference?” Cerberus had a smirk in his tone. “I knew you were a royal chaser!”
“Shut up, hellhound,” I huffed. “I promised King Sorin that I'd stay here another three days with Banning, so I need you to convince the Coven that Tom is guilty, and look after my dad till I get there. Make sure they put Thomas in a fucking magic-proof cell!”
“No problem, El,” Cer said. “I'm on it. But . . . three days with the blooders? Really? Good luck with that.”
“Yeah”–I looked over at the smiling blooder king–“thanks. I think I'm going to need it.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“This witch was a friend of your father's?” Sorin asked as I hung up the phone.
“One of his closest friends,” I confirmed.
“That is bad blood.” Sorin shook his head. “Bad blood indeed.”
“I'm so sorry, Elaria,” Banning said. “Are you alright?”
“I will be as soon as Cer calls me back and tells me they have Thomas in custody,” I said. “Then we can find my mother and the other sirens.”
“Your mother is missing?” Sorin's brows lifted. “Why didn't you say so? This is urgent.”
“I didn't want to divulge Elaria's private business.” Banning laid a supportive hand on my shoulder. “Perhaps we need to leave and come back for our three-day visit at another time.”
“You can't leave,” Sorin scowled. “You made me a vow.”
“Father, this is Elaria's mother; you, yourself, said the situation is urgent,” Banning cajoled.
“But a vow supersedes any urgency.” Sorin lifted his chin, his mustache drooping with the movement. “You must fulfill it.”
“It's fine.” I took Banning's hand gently from my shoulder and gave it a squeeze before I let go. “Cerberus is handling it.”
My phone rang, right on cue. “Hell Hound on my Trail” by Eric Clapton; Cerberus's ringtone. I hit the Answer button.
“Cer.”
“Elaria, get your ass back here now!”
“I can't, I told you–”
“Your father is missing!”
“What?” I shrieked.
“The whole damn Coven is searching the island for him, but he's gone, El,” Cerberus explained. “Rob wouldn't just walk off right now. He's gone, and I can practically guarantee that it wasn't of his own free will.”
“Fucking Thomas!” I screamed. “I'm going to sing that bastard into his grave! He'll bleed through every orifice he has! I'll break every gods-damned bone in his traitorous, fucking body! That witch is dead!”
“Oh, I like her,” Sorin said to Banning.
“And I'm going to tear him to pieces while you do it,” Cerberus added. “But you need to tell that blooder king that your bargain is on hold, and then get your ass back here.”
“I will.” I hung up on him and turned to Sorin.
He was shaking his head. “You made a vow, Elaria Tanager.”
“And I will honor it,” I swore. “But now both of my parents are missing. Give me some time to search for them, and I promise I will return.”
“I'll stay behind,” Banning added. “It's me who you want to spend time with anyway, isn't it?”
“I bargained for the both of you because I wanted the both of you here,” Sorin said. “No, you shall remain, and when our bargain is fulfilled, you may go.”
“So be it,” I growled and gave Banning a look.
No way in hell was I letting Sorin keep me from my family. There was more than one way to skin a blooder.
“Excellent.” Sorin clapped his hands. “Dinner is at seven sharp. I will see you there. Boris!”
“Yes, Your Majesty?” Boris was back in an instant.
“Show the Prince and his lady to their suite,” Sorin commanded.
“I'm not–”
“Thank you,” Banning cut me off with a weighted look.
“And see to their concerns”–Sorin waved his hands toward us in a flippant fashion–“especially their clothing concerns.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Boris bowed, then looked to Banning and me. “If you will follow me, Your Highness?”
“We'll see you tonight, Father,” Banning said stiffly to Sorin as we left.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“You can't leave before dinner,” Banning declared as I pulled out my traveling stone.
“What? Why not?”
“Because then Sorin will know that you've left.” Banning rolled his eyes. “Just attend dinner with me. You can leave after we retire for the night. If you return by morning, Sorin will never have to know that you were ever gone.”
“Oh.” I blinked. “Okay, fair enough.”
“Thank you.” Banning sighed. “I don't want to deal with the fallout, should he discover our duplicity. Sorin can be . . . difficult.”
“I can imagine.” I grimaced.
“I'm not sure that you can,” Banning said grimly. “Sometimes those with the least amount of power can be the most dangerous.”
“Valid,” I noted.
Then he waved a hand towards the gown Boris had brought for me. “Go ahead and take the bathroom to change in. I'll get dressed out here.”
“Thanks.” I started toward the bathroom, then stopped. “Why did you let Sorin believe that we're together?”
“Because if you aren't mine, Elaria,” Banning said, “then you are fair game.”
“Oh.”
“And you do not want to be fair game in a blooder gura at dinner time. There will be enough blood in the water without you slicing your wrists and adding to it.”
“Okay, I got it. You didn't have to add that gory imagery,” I headed into the bathroom. “Slicing my wrists? Damned blooders and their morbid metaphors”
I got inside the bathroom and started removing my clothes, but first, I emptied my pockets. Out came my traveling stone, my iPod, and my contact charm. The last was my old stone, the one shaped like a rose on one end. Cerberus had traded it back to me for the plainer one Torin had found as a temporary replacement. Seeing it reminded me that I
needed to contact Torin and Declan, and let them know what was happening.
I put the contact stone in my ear and called for Torin first. “King Torin of Onyx.”
Torin answered pretty quickly. “Elaria, is that you?”
“Yeah, it's me,” I confirmed. I went over the situation and told him that Declan was also waiting to assist us. “Should I tell him to meet us in the Human Realm?”
“No.” Torin sighed. “Have him journey here. Then when you travel back through the Veil, you can come here and collect us both at once.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I called Declan after that and asked him to head over to Onyx. I'd be meeting them as soon as I got out of this damn blooder banquet. He laughed at my annoyance and made a joke about leeches, which lifted my spirits considerably. That was something Declan could do like no other man; he could make me laugh, even in the midst of furious trauma. When I ended the call, I was smiling. I folded my clothes and tucked my traveling stone in them, but the charm, I wore around my neck. It was pretty, so why not?
The gown Boris had brought me was black, clingy, and silk –all good components for an evening dress. However, it also dipped a little too low in front for my comfort; so low that I couldn't wear a bra with it. I frowned at my reflection, trying to pull the exaggerated V higher, and when that failed, trying to shift it together so the spread wasn't so great. Nothing worked. So I replaced my black lace bra. It looked good with the silk, and the bottom line was: I needed a place to stash my iPod. Even if I didn't need or use it, my iPod made me feel better. Like a gunslinger who felt naked without his guns on his hips, I felt a little out of sorts without my music close at hand.
Yes, I could sing a cappella, but hearing the music always helped. It put me in the mood, I suppose. Singing a cappella was like having sex without foreplay; you could get off, but it took a bit longer.
“So they see my bra, so what? It's not like my mother's here to give me hell over it,” I huffed and walked out. “And it's not like I give a shit what a bunch of blooders think of me.”
“It's nearly seven, we should–” Banning saw me and froze with his mouth half open. “Dear gods, that's a dress.”
“I know,” I growled and waved to my cleavage. “It's nearly cut down to my belly button. This is obscene.”
“I'm betting that it won't be half as revealing as some of the other outfits on parade tonight,” Banning said.
“Really?”
“Really,” he sighed like it was a bad thing.
“You don't want to see female blooders on display?” I teased.
“Every glance, every word, every little action is dissected here,” Banning explained. “If I stare at a woman too long, even if it's just because I'm shocked by her garment –or lack thereof– I will be critiqued for it. And that's the best-case scenario.”
“What would be the worst?”
“The woman would instigate a flirtation.” He grimaced.
I laughed, and would have teased him further, but a knock came at our door. It was Boris.
“Dinner will be served in ten minutes, Your Highness,” Boris intoned.
“Thank you, Boris, we'll be right there,” Banning said.
Boris backed out of the room.
“Boy, that's hard to get used to.” I chuckled. “Even Torin doesn't have that kind of ass-kissing going on in Onyx.”
“Blooder society was built upon ass-kissing.” Banning smirked and held his arm out to me. “Shall we?”
“If we must,” I said in my most bored, upper-crust accent.
Banning escorted me downstairs and into a dining room that was more the size of a ballroom. It's a common misconception that blooders, aka vampires, don't eat real food; that they exist entirely on blood. Not true; they eat because it brings them pleasure. The same reason they do most things. Though, they don't actually have to eat to survive.
I could appreciate the hedonistic attitude; it just sat wrong with me that on top of taking blood (even though they don't have to kill to get blood anymore, that blood could still be used to save lives), they're also using human resources. Children were starving while these blooders feasted on food they didn't even need to eat. When I saw the extent of the feast, it turned my stomach. Not that I'm a huge philanthropist or anything, but still; wrong is wrong. Or maybe I was just annoyed with the leeches since their king was being such a bitch about our bargain. Damn, self-analysis wasn't my strong suit. It seemed like navigating the waters of my own morality was getting harder as the years went by.
“What is it?” Banning asked as we made our way through the crowd.
“Nothing.” I tried to compose my face.
Blooders sensed discomfort like sharks sensed . . . blood in the . . . gods damn Banning for getting that sharks analogy stuck in my head. Now, every time some blooder smiled at me, I heard the theme for Jaws.
“Your Highness,” a sultry voice rolled over us.
Banning grimaced, shot me a warning look, and then turned us both around to face the speaker. She was tall, Romanian-dark, and model-perfect. Tiny breasts were outlined beneath her clingy dress–her clingy, see-through dress. Her naughty bits were covered with strategically placed flourishes of lace. Long, luscious hair swept back from a haughty face, done up in an elaborate style that wouldn't interfere with any view of her body. One hand clasped a champagne glass like a dragon clutched treasure, and the other hung limply over her cleavage. As if she needed to draw more attention to it.
Oh, this was fantastic! I might be seen as entertainment to these blooders, but they were going to entertain me in return. This woman was like every vampire cliché rolled into one. I had already dubbed her “Elvira” in my head.
“Mirela,” Banning said in a bored tone, “you look . . . healthy.”
That was close enough for me; Mirela, Mistress of the Dark. I coughed to cover my laugh and Banning shot me a look.
“Sorry, my throat is dry.” I rubbed limply at my throat, mimicking Mirela's limp wrist movement.
Banning narrowed his eyes on me while simultaneously sweeping a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing servant.
“Here, my love, have something to drink.” Banning offered me the glass.
“Why, thank you, sweetheart.” I smiled brightly as I took the glass.
“That dress is supposed to be worn without a brassiere,” the woman dramatically whispered to me. “Your lingerie ruins the lines. Unless your breasts require support. In which case, I understand. Saggy is never a good look.”
“Don't worry about my breasts, honey,” I said sweetly. “You've got your own problems –or should I say; a lack of them?”
Banning choked on his champagne.
“Such bad manners!” She turned to Banning in horror. “Your companion must be human,” Mirela made a face, as if she smelled something disgusting. “I'm shocked you would debase yourself so, Your Highness.”
Being called human was evidently worse than being told your boobs were tiny because the whole room went silent and stared at us. Banning opened his mouth to correct Mirela, a furious expression on his face, but I beat him to it. First, by laughing. It was a mocking laugh, one which I let a little magic trickle into. I couldn't cast a spell merely by laughing, but I could let another woman from the Beneath know who she was messing with. If she had any sensitivity to magic, that is. It turned out that most of the blooders in the room did . . . including Mirela. She blanched.
“A human,” I said. “That's rich. Perhaps you should use your senses before you insult your betters. All of your senses, not just those originating from below your waist. Then you would have known right away that I could kill you with a few words –and be fully within my rights to do so.”
“Lady Elaria,” King Sorin interrupted before Mirela could respond. “Please don't kill one of our courtiers . . . at least not before the first course. That's so gauche, don't you think? Murder is best served with dessert
.”
“Gauche? As gauche as calling someone human?” I shot back.
“Ah, yes . . .” Sorin pondered Mirela, whose dark eyes went wide. “I believe you've overstepped, my dear. Perhaps in your excitement to see my son again, you stumbled over your words?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Mirela bowed her head. “I would be pleased to offer my apologies to Prince Banning . . . in private.”
I don't know what happened. Honestly, I had prepared myself for all manner of insults from these leeches. I knew they'd be testing me, hitting me with word-barbs, and I'd even expected some of the women to get snide with me while being suggestive with Banning. I expected it. What I hadn't expected was the red-hot fury that lanced through my veins when that blooder bitch dared to come on to Banning after I had made two things very clear: Banning was mine, and I was powerful. There was about to be a concert up in Blooder Hall; a killer one.
I didn't pull any lyrical punches. I went straight for the chorus of Leona Lewis's “Bleeding Love”. The sharp words burst from my lips, and my magic –which had been lurking, lodged in my throat along with my anger– pushed the anguished attack out of me. Even with my emotion fueling the song, I sang it true; with sweet heartbreak. A crying torment which turned into triumph; a woman in despair, alone and afraid, who finally finds love in the most unexpected place. The song felt right; for my life and my current need to defend myself. The lyrics filled me with exultation, especially when the blooders pulled back in horror –even their king– and Mirela fell to her knees in excruciating pain. I sliced open her chest with my very first words, going right to the heart of the matter. Only Banning and I remained standing before her.
“Elaria, stop!” Banning shouted, his hand jerking my arm. “Please.”
I looked at him, and saw in him the shocking love I sang about; the lover viewed inappropriate or just plain wrong, and yet he was exactly what was needed, what was longed for. It gave my song more power, and Mirela's blood flowed faster. But I didn't even notice her anymore. I was singing to Banning now, a love song that seemed perfect for him. I try and try to let Banning go, and he just keeps slipping back into my heart.