Amaranthine Special Edition Vol II

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Amaranthine Special Edition Vol II Page 15

by Naylor, Joleene

Senya snorted disdainfully and led the way across the garage to a steel trap door. A sign on the wall above it had a neon arrow and the words “Service Entrance. Authorized Persons Only”. A second sign said “Be Prepared to Show Identification”.

  Senya threw the door open. She dropped through it like a comic book heroine and landed on the floor below in a crouch, her face upturned. “Coming?” she asked haughtily.

  “In due time.” Verchiel made a sweeping gesture towards the gaping hole. “After you, Kately.”

  She was too terrified to point out that it wasn’t her name, and eyed the hole as if it might eat her. It was certainly not a scenic entrance. A straight shaft ran down for several feet with a metal ladder bolted to one wall. The rungs looked shiny and slippery. Her gaze skipped from the ladder to the contemptuous vampiress below.

  Verchiel leaned close to her ear and teased, “If you fall, she’ll catch you.”

  “Sometime today?” Senya called impatiently.

  “Yes, yes.” Verchiel dropped his voice to address Katelina, “Best not to keep her waiting.”

  She swallowed hard and carefully sat down on the floor. Her legs dangled while she collected her courage. With a final look at Senya, she caught hold of the ladder and swung herself into the hole. Her downward progress was slow as her feet tentatively sought out each rung. She gripped the cold steel until her fingers turned pink and then white. All the while she imagined hurtling downward to her death.

  She reached the bottom, now afraid of the too-near vampiress. As if to justify her terror, Senya grabbed her arm and threw her out of the way and into a smooth stone wall.

  Verchiel jumped down like Senya had, the suitcase still in his hand. He straightened up and dusted off his coat, as if he’d gotten dirty on his descent. Then, he absently caught Katelina’s arm. “Where to?” he asked Senya cheerfully. “The Audience Chamber?”

  She held out her hand and her posture oozed impatience. “I’ll take her.”

  Verchiel tightened his hold. “Sorry.” Despite the word, he didn’t seem regretful. “This was my assignment, and I intend to complete it.” He looked at Katelina. “I’m sure my superior will know what to do with you.”

  It took Senya a moment to shout, “I am your superior!” and by then Verchiel had already tugged Katelina part way down the corridor.

  The walls and floor were made of light brown stone with no doors or windows to break up the claustrophobic, tunnel like feeling. At the end of the hallway was a set of large, wooden doors complete with heavy metal fittings.

  Katelina watched the doors with growing panic. She’d been so sure that Jorick would rescue her, and yet there she was, inside The Guild’s headquarters, and he was nowhere to be found. An idea had been slowly forming over the last several hours and it chose that moment to take tangible shape. Oren wouldn’t willingly allow himself to be taken to The Guild, especially not to save her life. What if he’d convinced Jorick to let her go?

  No, Jorick wouldn’t abandon her, or he’d have done so long ago.

  Then where is he?

  Verchiel pulled her to a stop in front of the heavy doors. He knocked against them with the suitcase and a small square in the door opened, like a peephole. An eye peered through it and looked from Verchiel to Katelina, then the square snapped shut. Bolts were thrown back inside and the door opened on a pair of uniformed vampires.

  Verchiel tugged Katelina into a small antechamber. It was furnished with a table and a pair of benches. A computer terminal was built into the wall to the left and held a glowing monitor and all the accessories, including a copious amount of colored paper. Either side of it was lined in television screens. From the grainy images, Katelina guessed that they were security monitors. On the far wall, two doors led out of the room, both locked with heavy bolts, and a third, padlocked door stood to their right. It was to this door that one of the guards moved. He quickly unlocked it, then opened the door wide and stepped back.

  Katelina was pulled through it, into a long, white hallway. The floor slowly cut downwards, taking them deeper underground. Verchiel whistled to himself and Senya followed behind, silently seething. Katelina felt like a child caught in the middle of a bad divorce. All she wanted to do was run away, but there was nowhere to go. Senya and the vampire guards were behind her, and before her was the rest of The Guild. Even if she could get loose there would be no escape.

  Verchiel’s voice broke the terrifying silence. “I’m afraid this isn’t the scenic route. The other two doors are meant for visitors and such. Unless you’re with an Executioner or a council member, I doubt you’ll ever see it again.”

  “Cut the tour guide crap!” Senya snapped. “She isn’t here to sightsee.”

  “That doesn’t mean we can’t be hospitable, now does it? I sometimes wonder what happened to your manners.” Verchiel gave Katelina a mischievous wink.

  At the end of the corridor was an elevator with a steel face and a single glowing button. Verchiel pressed it and the doors swished open. He tucked Katelina safely into the corner and stood between her and Senya. The vampiress pressed the third floor button then leaned back against the wall. No one spoke as the elevator descended, and Katelina slowly chewed her lip to a worried pulp.

  Verchiel tugged Katelina out into a marbled corridor and Senya followed. The décor was closer to what Katelina had expected. The walls were hung in large, gilt-framed paintings that were too perfect to be comforting. The white marble floor was shot through with veins of black and crystal chandeliers hung over their heads.

  They reached a hub where four corridors converged, and they turned left. The hallway ended suddenly at a pair of tall doors. A vampire stood in front of them. His eyes flicked to Verchiel first. “You’re back.” Then he glanced at the other two. “Malick isn’t here.”

  Undeterred, Verchiel asked, “All right, then where is he?”

  “Busy, but you’re supposed to take her inside. Eileifr is waiting for her.”

  Verchiel glanced back at Senya. “Thank you for the escort, but you’re no longer needed.”

  Senya’s eyes bulged. “Who do you think you are to dismiss me? I-”

  “You are no longer needed,” Verchiel repeated, his voice cold. “I was assigned to bring them here, not you. You were only sent to infiltrate the coven.”

  “I will not be dismissed!” she cried, but the vampire guard nodded his agreement.

  “Eileifr asked for the human and Verchiel, no one else.”

  Senya’s mouth snapped shut. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Fine. Know that I intend to discuss this with Malick.” She spun on her heel and stormed away.

  Verchiel called after her retreating figure, “Go ahead. Discuss all you want.”

  With Senya gone, relief flooded through Katelina. It died as the vampire guard opened the heavy door and stepped aside.

  She was led into a large, round room. The ceiling soared high above them and dripped heavy, gold chandeliers. A long, red carpet ran from the double doors to a dais at the other end, effectively cutting the room in half. Clusters of chairs and tables were grouped haphazardly on either side of it and gave the impression that they were used when necessary and ignored when not.

  On the dais sat five empty thrones. The center one was larger and more ornate than the others. On the wall, above them hung a big, golden emblem in the shape of an eye, and a red tapestry that depicted a scene Katelina didn’t recognize. Pillars ran around the room and created decorative alcoves that were filled with more tapestries.

  Though Katelina noted these details, her attention was focused on three vampires in the center of the room. The blonde wasn’t really tall, but there was something in his presence that made him seem to tower over the others. His hair was long and hung halfway down his back with thin braids mingled into loose strands. He wore a cloak of deep green and from his chin sprouted a thick, neat beard. His face was pale, the features those of a battle hardened Nordic king, somehow softened to perfection by immortal grace.

&nb
sp; With him were two familiar figures. One of them had hair the color of a lion, and looked strangely out of place with his dark, button-down shirt, blue jeans and black gym bag. The other had hair as black as night and clothing to match.

  Relief surged through Katelina. “Jorick!” She tried to break away and run to him, but Verchiel held her firmly in check and made her walk towards the group at a respectful pace.

  Jorick assessed her quickly, though he addressed her captor. “If you harmed her…” his voice was low and angry and his threat unfinished.

  Verchiel appeared unruffled by Jorick’s fury. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt a hair on her shiny little head.”

  Oren gazed at them. Displeasure registered in his golden eyes and a muscle twitched in his jaw, but Katelina knew it wasn’t concern for her safety.

  The blonde in the green robe gave what amounted to a smile. “Greetings, Verchiel. Your arrival was somewhat delayed?”

  The redhead came to a stop near the group, but not close enough for Jorick to reach them. He bowed his head. “I apologize, Master Eileifr. A human does require more consideration.”

  “Yes, I suppose they do.” Eileifr turned his grey eyes on Katelina. She forced herself to look back at him, though her attention kept shifting to Jorick with a mixture of joy and longing.

  The regal blonde nodded to Verchiel. Hesitantly, the redhead released her and took a step back so she stood alone. Her breath caught in her throat as Eileifr approached her and wordlessly lifted a hand to her face. He tilted her head back and tugged her coat collar away from her neck to reveal her mark. The scar still held a strange translucent quality, a shimmering white instead of the tight pink of her other scars.

  “A failed linking?” Eileifr asked and released her.

  Jorick’s eyes flamed. “No, it was successful, but undone by Kateesha’s blood.”

  “Yes, of course.” Eileifr stepped back. His eyes flicked to Verchiel. “I trust she gave you no trouble?”

  “Of course not. However, we were forced to seek shelter with a coven who have need of a Moderator.”

  Eileifr waved it away as though it were of no importance. “Seek out the Lesser Council and bring it before them.” Verchiel stayed where he was and Eileifr added firmly, “Rest assured I will tell Malick that you brought her as commanded.”

  “Of course.” Verchiel bowed his head again and set the suitcase on the floor. He looked from Katelina to Jorick as if he was going to say something. Instead he broke into a grin and turned away. His footfalls echoed through the large chamber and then the heavy door closed behind him.

  Katelina wanted to run to Jorick, but she wasn’t sure if she should. As if in answer, Jorick purposefully moved beside her and took her hand. He met Eileifr’s gaze. “May we go?”

  “Yes, for now. The guard outside will escort you. You may take her to your chambers. Tomorrow Malick will want to speak with her, and with you.” The Nordic vampire leveled his gaze meaningfully with Jorick’s. “I suggest that you are all prepared.”

  “Of course.” Jorick’s grip on her hand turned almost painful. Eileifr nodded and Jorick scooped up the tatty suitcase and bowed his head. “Until tomorrow.”

  They headed for the double doors at a brisk pace. Though Katelina struggled to keep up, Oren loped easily behind. The vampire guard was waiting for them in the hallway. Without a word, he led them down the long green and marble corridors. They passed the occasional vampire who gazed at them curiously, but didn’t speak. Katelina clutched Jorick’s hand tightly and tried not to meet their cold, glittering eyes, though on more than one occasion the temptation was very strong. When that happened, Jorick tightened his hold on her and sent dirty looks at the perpetrators, who backed down and moved away.

  The guard led them to a pair of silver elevators etched with golden designs. Inside, the walls were sheets of thick, blue-green glass that looked out at a giant atrium. The four entered silently, Katelina tucked into the corner away from the guard. Despite the foreign vampire’s presence she stared wide-eyed through the glass wall.

  They were three stories up from the atrium’s stone floor. The room was light and airy, though dark and secluded in the far corners. The wall across from the elevators was made of rough, dark stone. A waterfall ran down it and fell into a shimmering pool. The wall on the right of the atrium was made of six tiers of terraces, complete with wrought iron railings. A large stone fountain of modern design was in the center of the room. A ring of spotlights illuminated it and the many shooting streams of water. Potted trees stood around in clusters, and thick green vines trailed up giant pillars and crawled up the walls, ever reaching towards the impossibly high ceiling. Benches, tables and lounges were scattered around in different areas, and she could see small figures milling around between the vegetation and furnishings.

  The elevator quickly covered two floors and stopped when the digital panel said “5”. The guard led them down a wide, carpeted corridor lined on one side with doors. The color scheme and atmosphere were so much like a hotel that Katelina expected to see a bellhop conveniently wandering the hallway. No uniformed staff presented themselves and the guard came to a stop before one of the doors and swished a lock card.

  “I’ll have some dinner sent up, shall I?” He handed Jorick the card. “Does the human need to feed, as well?”

  Jorick looked to Katelina and she shrugged. “I had a sandwich and some stuff.”

  “There’s a telephone in the room, of course,” the guard continued. “You can call up to the sixth floor and have something sent down for her, or you can go to the restaurant. The sixth floor is devoted to humans.” He looked from Jorick to Oren. “Press nine if you want an outside line. All calls made from the rooms are monitored, so I’d be careful.”

  “We don’t need to call anyone outside of the Citadel,” Jorick replied coldly.

  “That’s probably for the best.” The guard chose his words carefully. “Malick doesn’t hide his favoritism. From what I understand, he’s conducting this as a friendly visit, for now. Might I suggest that you don’t do anything to change his mind?” Then, he turned and walked away crisply.

  Jorick opened the door and the three filed into the room. The floor was covered in short wheat-colored carpet and in place of a window was a large painting. There were two twin beds on opposite sides of the room, with three medium sized coffins between them. A door across from the last bed presumably led to a bathroom, while the area next to it and across from the coffins was set up with a couch, a table and two chairs like a miniature lounge area. A second door stood partially open, revealing a closet.

  Oren glared around hatefully and all but kicked the door closed. “A friendly visit? Of course, guards always accompany you on a friendly visit!”

  “It could be worse.” Jorick released Katelina and laid the suitcase on the nearest bed. For the first time in days, Katelina peeled off the stocking hat and the long black coat.

  Oren threw his bag on the table and dropped into one of the chairs, a heavy scowl on his face. “Could it? Despite the polite pretenses I have no illusions about how this will end.”

  Jorick sighed. “Perhaps. When you’re faced with Malick, we may all be in trouble.” His dark eyes registered worry that ran deeper than his voice admitted. “We can discuss it later.”

  Oren started to object, then stopped. “Of course. I imagine you’d like a moment.” He snatched up his black bag and stormed sourly to the bathroom. “I’ll take a shower, shall I?” Then he disappeared.

  Katelina glared at the spot he’d vacated. “He’s in a good mood isn’t he?”

  Instead of responding to her, Jorick swept her up in his arms and crushed her to him. She stifled a noise of surprise and then clutched him tightly, as if he’d somehow disappear. He buried his face in the tumble of her golden hair and nuzzled her neck. His lips moved against her throat, nudging the collar of her shirt away to linger delicately over the mark he’d left. He squeezed her tightly for a moment, then hesitantly release
d her and drew back to gaze into her face. “You’re all right?” he asked softly. “He didn’t hurt you?”

  “I’m fine, now.” She took a deep breath and let his musky scent fill her nostrils and drown out the memories of last night and the horrible little room.

  He flinched as he read her thoughts and his face clouded with anger. “Don’t worry. He will pay for that.”

  Her eyes dropped to his chest. “I suppose in the scheme of things he wasn’t that bad.” How could she defend Verchiel after he’d kidnapped her and locked her up for the night?

  Jorick stiffened at her words and she looked up at him quickly. “I mean he could have tied me up and left me in the trunk, or not gotten me any food or -”

  “And he could have left you alone! It wasn’t necessary for him to lay a hand on you, let alone take you! Do you have any idea what I went through for the last two days? Not knowing what his intentions were?” He faltered and stepped away from her. Regret flickered in his eyes, as if he’d said more than he intended to. He quickly regained his composure and the cool mask slipped back over his face and hid his feelings.

  Katelina let it pass. “You really can’t read his mind?” She’d come to rely on the fact that he always knew what was going on and found the lack of it disconcerting.

  “No. I can’t. He isn’t the first. I’ve encountered others over the years, like Kateesha, though usually I can guess their intentions. But this one…” he shook his head helplessly. “He makes no sense to me.”

  “Me either. One minute he’s friendly and the next...” she trailed off and shrugged her shoulders. “Like, he helped get you out of jail.”

  “Of course he did,” Jorick snapped and then softened. “He was sent to fetch us, even then, but he needed Oren. Malick called for all of us.” He looked away from her and she suddenly remembered the invitation Verchiel had mentioned. She waited to see if Jorick would tell her about it. Instead, he changed the subject. “Tomorrow, Malick may wish to speak to you alone.”

  Something in his tone scared her. “How bad is that?”

 

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