Revelation of Blood (Skye Morrison Vampire Series, #5)

by J. L. McCoy

  “Hi,” I whispered a bit self-consciously as I gazed up at him.

  “Hi,” he whispered on a smile as he lowered his lips to mine and gently kissed me. “You look really amazing, Skye.”

  “So do you,” I smiled, brushing a lock of thick brown hair from his forehead. Archer was wearing a classic Brioni tux, complete with black bow tie, and a red silk handkerchief in his breast pocket; he had color coordinated with me and it made me grin.

  “Is it time?” I asked as I adjusted his bow tie and smoothed his lapel.

  “It is,” he whispered before kissing me one last time. “Ms. Reynolds kindly brought the itinerary and guest list.”

  Turning my eyes to the woman, I smiled brightly at her. “Good evening, Ms. Reynolds,” I greeted more for Archer’s benefit. I personally didn’t care for the woman.

  “Miss Morrison,” she politely inclined her head as she picked up the papers and came over to us. “Everything is here along with the folder the assistant to the Cardinal Bishop sent over.” Archer thanked her and she grinned up at him with a look that made me want to kick her in the ankle. “Your limo is downstairs. Call me if you need anything else tonight.”

  Jameson showed her out and chuckled when the door closed behind her. “She’s still got a thing for you I see.” Archer sighed and shot him a look. Jameson laughed harder and held his hands up in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just merely stating a fact. Though I am surprised Skye didn’t jump in there and put her in her place.” Jameson glanced over at me with a smirk.

  “I can be a lady when I need to be. Look, I’m in an evening gown for crying out loud,” I pursed my lips then crossed my arms under my chest. “Besides, I don’t think Archer wants a dead concierge on his hands.”

  “Baby,” Archer smiled down at me, his voice soothing.

  “I think that’s enough sappiness for one evening. We’d better get going,” Jameson said, checking the time on his cell phone. “We’ve got twenty minutes to get to Saint Ailbe.”

  **********

  The ride to the church was not as I expected it to be. Archer handed me a folder with Gaelic translations and made me memorize the oath I would have to take. Surprisingly, it was easy to learn and pronunciation wasn’t as hard as I thought. Another positive check in the vampire column.

  We arrived at the church and were greeted by several valets. Archer took my arm and escorted me up the cathedral steps with Jameson not far behind.

  “I’m nervous,” I admitted as I blew out a deep breath.

  “You’ll do fine, baby,” he said gently, stopping to face me. “You are the strongest woman I’ve ever known. You can take down highly trained soldiers without even chipping a nail. This is just a ceremony. You say some words, drink a little wine, meet some people…it’s going to be a little boring but it’ll be manageable, okay? There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

  “Piece of cake, little sister,” Jameson said, letting his hand touch my shoulder for a brief second before he dropped it. I didn’t know why but that one gesture from him meant the world to me.

  Nodding my head, I turned around to face them. “I just wanted to say thank you…for all you’ve both done for me. And I want you each to know that I love you…very much.” I sighed and took each of their hands, but my eyes were only for Jameson this time. “I’m glad you’re here with me. I can’t imagine this day without you in it.”

  His brow furrowed briefly but I chose to ignore it. I wasn’t under any false illusions; I knew our friendship was non-existent now, but that didn’t mean what I said was untrue. I did love Jameson, a part of me always would, and I honestly couldn’t image doing this without him. I took another deep breath and nodded, signaling I was ready to go in.

  As we approached, the double wooden doors opened outward toward us. The two men manning the doors bowed formally as a middle-aged man in a tux waited just inside the room to greet us.

  “Iníon Morrison, An tUasal Rhys, An tUasal Doyle,” he said in a slight German accent, nodding his head to each of us. “Fáilte. We are honored to have you join us tonight.”

  “Go raibh maith agat,” we each replied, nodding our heads back.

  “Iníon Morrison, my name is Heinrich Hirsch and I am the personal assistant to Cardinal Flannigan. If you will follow me please, we can begin the ceremony. An tUasal Rhys and An tUasal Doyle, the others are waiting for you inside the main cathedral.”

  Archer smiled reassuringly as Mr. Hirsch offered his elbow and escorted me around the corner and down a long hall. After a leisurely walk, he paused in front of a single door and turned to me.

  “Iníon Morrison, I wish you a long and happy life,” he smiled down at me with kind eyes as he took my hand and brushed his lips across the back of it. “May God be with you and yours.”

  With that he turned around and began walking back the way we came. Uh…okay, I thought silently. What am I supposed to do now? I glanced over to the door and then back to Mr. Hirsch’s departing figure. Did he really just leave me here? Indecision ate away at me. I was nervous enough as it was and didn’t know what I was supposed to do now. I looked back at the door and made a judgment call. Oh well. Here goes nothing.

  Opening the door, I gasped softly at what I saw. The door opened to the back and side of the main cathedral. I was instantly floored with the immense splendor I saw before me. Intricate religious murals covered the ceiling and glittering gold and shining stained glass adorned the high arches. Hundreds of candles lit the room, each flickering beautifully to an inaudible song as I stepped further in.

  A man in red and white robes was standing silently fifty feet from me, his hand outstretched in my direction. “Come child,” he beckoned to me with a small smile. I took a deep breath before straightening my spine, pulling my shoulders back and bravely walking his direction.

  Very soft murmuring on my left drew my attention and I glanced over to see a small sea of people. I quickly found Archer and Jameson among the ones sitting in the front pews and looked away so I could focus. I was deathly afraid of tripping and falling on my face, embarrassing myself for an eternity.

  As I approached the man, I curtsied slowly as Archer had instructed me to do in the limo. “Cardinal Flannigan,” I greeted as I rose.

  “Iníon Skye Everleigh Morrison,” he addressed me, raising his voice and commanding the room. “Are you prepared to recite your vows, accepting your role as a child of light, this day before God and your peers?”

  “Aye, Father.” He smiled kindly at me as he held out his hand and I took it.

  Father Flannigan led me over to an ornate, carved wooden kneeler and I carefully lowered myself upon it while he went to stand behind a table in front of me.

  “Cead Mile Failte, deartháireacha,” he addressed the crowd in Irish Gaelic then switched to English. “One hundred thousand welcomes, my brothers. Today we are here to welcome an extraordinary newborn into the arms of light. Skye Morrison is more than just a fresh face in our society; she is a warrior and a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounds us. This child singlehandedly defeated Athair Dorcha, the Dark Father, within three days of awakening. During the battle with the Father of Darkness, she discovered her Divine Power, and what a blessed power it is. Never in the history of our race has one been gifted with teleportation abilities.”

  Father Flannigan struck a match and put it into a metal container. Soon, smoke began to pour out of it. “Today we bless her, thank God for her, and welcome her into the arms of light. Let us pray,” he said as he came around the table.

  The room began receiving a prayer in Gaelic as the priest followed suit, swinging the smoking container around my body. The incense was strong and sweet and I fought off a cough. The smell didn’t bother me as much as the actual smoke in my face did, but I did my best to ignore it as I closed my eyes and tried to feel the prayer.

  When the prayer concluded, the Cardinal stood behind his table, drew a dagger and quickly slid it across his palm. He held his hand ove
r a golden bowl and caught a couple of teaspoons of blood.

  “May her father come forth,” he called out as he held his hand in the direction of the pews.

  I heard the wooden pew creak as someone got up and walked to the front where the priest and I were. Archer stood by the table and offered up his palm for the Cardinal. The Cardinal repeated the motion across Archer’s palm and caught the blood in the same golden bowl.

  “Thank you, dheartháir,” he nodded his head to Archer and I saw Archer leave out of the corner of my eye.

  “Do you have your vows, deirfiúr,” the Cardinal addressed me.

  “Aye, Father,” I nodded my head.

  “Iníon Skye Everleigh Morrison will recite her vows, selflessly bequeathing her immortality to the bosom of Day.”

  He looked down at me expectantly and I took a deep breath as I repeated what I’d learned in the limo. “I, Miss Skye Everleigh Morrison, will dedicate my abilities to the service and welfare of the people of Day, may God direct and sustain me. Amen.”

  “Now in Gael, my dear,” he whispered gently, prompting me after my long pause.

  “Oh, right,” I smiled, momentarily forgetting about that part. “Iníon Skye Everleigh Morrison , mo lándhícheall a dhéanamh ar son leasa is fónaimh mhuintir na Day, Dia do mo stiúradh agus do mo chumhdach. Áiméan.”

  Cardinal Flannigan stepped beside me, holding a beautiful ornate chalice in his hands. “The blood of Christ,” he said softly as he offered it to me.

  “Amen,” I whispered as I leaned forward and put my lips to the rim. A rich, woodsy wine coated my mouth and I swallowed as I crossed myself.

  He set the chalice down and picked up the bowl he and Archer had bled into. I watched as the Father dipped two fingers into the blood and made the sign of the cross above me. He then moved his hand closer to my face and I closed my eyes.

  “We commit her soul to the almighty God, upon Thy dear blood. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy spirit,” he said as he crossed my forehead, smearing it with the blood from his fingers. “Welcome to the family, Skye.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I opened my eyes and grinned up at him; my heart happy and full. The room then erupted in applause as Cardinal Flannigan helped me stand.

  “It was an honor to preside over your Sacred Vow Ceremony, Miss Morrison,” he smiled, taking my hand.

  “Thank you, Father, but the honor was all mine,” I replied. “I apologize if I was a little nervous.”

  “I couldn’t tell a bit,” he said kindly as he patted the back of my hand. “For someone not familiar with our rituals, you did remarkably well child.”

  “Your assistant, Mr. Hirsch, helped with that,” I admitted. “He sent over a little homework for me to study on the ride over.”

  Archer arrived at my side and wrapped one arm around my shoulders. “I’m so proud of you, cion. You did an amazing job.”

  “Go mingle with your guests, dear,” Cardinal Flannigan said as he patted my arm again. “They’ve been anticipating your arrival for weeks.”

  I thanked him again and watched him walk to a group of men before I sighed and looked up at Archer. “So, I know this may sound a little stupid, but do I have to keep this blood on my forehead all night?”

  Archer chuckled and took the red satin handkerchief from his pocket. “No baby,” he whispered, leaning into me and gently wiping the bloody cross from my forehead. “There…good as new.”

  “I didn’t know I’d feel this way,” I whispered thoughtfully as I gazed up at him.

  “What way, baby?”

  “Happy,” I searched for words, “complete…like I belong here. I thought the vows would just be something that I’d have to recite and it would have no meaning for me, but I was wrong. I didn’t expect to feel like a changed person.”

  “It’s like that for all of us, love,” he smiled knowingly down at me.

  “Miss Morrison,” I heard a familiar voice say and I turned around. Ruarc and another man were standing before me and they were both smiling.

  “Well, well,” I grinned, “if it isn’t the man who loves to hate me. I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

  “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in you,” he smiled as he took my hand and tenderly kissed my knuckles. “How are you?”

  “I’m great…never been better, actually. Listen, I never got to thank you for all that you and the Army did to help me.”

  “It is us who should be thanking you, child. You are an extraordinary woman and our race owes you a debt of gratitude for Amun’s capture,” the man accompanying Ruarc said with a bow of his head.

  “Skye, I’d like you to meet Ríoghán, leader of the chosen Army of The Faithful,” Archer smiled.

  “It’s a great honor to meet you, sir,” I smiled, accepting his hand. “You have some wonderful men working for you.”

  “We are blessed,” he nodded his head, patting the back of my hand. “Welcome to the family, deirfiúr.”

  I thanked him and Archer spoke up. “It is a pleasure to see you again, brother. It’s been a long time.”

  “Too long,” Ríoghán replied, shaking his hand with a warm smile before a sad look replaced it. “I was very sorry to hear about Treasach. He was a godly man. You have my deepest condolences, dheartháir.”

  Archer sighed and a haunted look passed over his eyes. “Thank you, Ríoghán. He and his family will be greatly missed.”

  The deep, reverberating sound of church bells rang out, drawing all of our attention as Heinrich Hirsch addressed the crowd. “The celebratory ball will now begin in the great hall.”

  I looked up at Archer in surprise and he winked down at me. “Now it’s time for the real fun.”

  Archer allowed Ruarc to escort me to the ball which was located in another part of the church. I swallowed hard and fought off a wave of nervousness when we arrived.

  Men and women alike packed the hall as a string quartet played beautiful, classical music on stage. I was immediately whisked away by Cardinal Flannigan who proceeded to introduce me around the room.

  I met and took pictures with important Day Walker dignitaries who had come from all over the world to celebrate this day with me. I tried my best to get over the anxiety I felt at all the attention. After all, I had made Archer a promise when we landed in Boston to try and, if all else failed, to fake it. But, the more people I met, the more I felt like a walking oddity; a science experiment on display. One man from Russia asked me to teleport for him and, after getting over the shock of it, I politely declined. I didn’t want anyone to know that I couldn’t do it, that I hadn’t been able to do it since the night we captured Amun. It was too embarrassing.

  Speaking of Amun, he was all people seemed to talk about. I got question after question about what it was like in that basement in east Austin where Amun tortured me, what it was like to be in the presence of true evil, and worst of all, what it felt like to have him invade my mind and dream walk with me.

  I politely excused myself after one particularly horrifying discussion with a Day Walker from Uganda, and sought out the open bar. After securing a tall glass of red wine, I searched the room for Archer and Jameson. Archer was busy speaking with someone, and by the way they were laughing and talking animatedly, I knew he wouldn’t be done anytime soon. I found Jameson out on the dance floor, dancing with the wife of the Russian man who’d asked me to teleport for him. Jameson seemed to feel my gaze, because his eyes immediately lifted to find mine. His brow furrowed briefly before a question formed on his face. It looked like he was asking me what I wanted, but I shook my head and decided to leave him be to have his fun. We weren’t really friends anymore and I didn’t want to bother him with my problems.

  Needing a minute to myself, I snuck out one of the side doors and took a deep, cleansing breath of fresh air, happy to be out in the cool night air. Being inside around all those people and talking about the horrors that had happened to me at Amun’s hands was a bit too much to deal
with. I knew the vampires weren’t trying to be rude by asking me questions, just genuinely curious, but still…having to relive some of the worst memories of my life was anything but fun and definitely not how I saw my night going when I’d arrived.

  I walked a little further around the grounds and suddenly found myself in a beautiful rose garden. Statues of Mary, Saint Patrick with his shield, and Saint Ailbe of Emly kept me company as I sat on one of the many benches and sipped my wine, taking in the fragrant beauty around me. It was just what I needed to recharge.

  Having finished my glass, I was preparing to get up and go back inside when I heard footsteps behind me.

  “Good evening, Miss Morrison,” a voice said and I turned to look at him as he approached my bench. I hadn’t seen him before but the fact that he knew who I was didn’t surprise me; everyone seemed to know who I was around here.

  “Good evening,” I replied as I mentally prepared myself for the questions he would undoubtedly ask me. I hadn’t met a single person tonight, aside from Ríoghán, Cardinal Flannigan, and Heinrich Hirsch who’d refrained.

  “May I have a seat?” he asked politely as he motioned to the spot beside me. I nodded my head as I spun the stem of my wine glass between my fingers. As he sat, he put his hands in his jacket pockets. “I’m surprised to find you out here.”

  “I just needed a little air,” I smiled tightly.

  “Tough night?” he asked sympathetically, turning fully to me.

  I shrugged one shoulder and took a deep breath before blowing it out. “Not exactly. Just a little overwhelming.”

  “Well, then let me apologize for this beforehand,” he said solemnly before his hand flashed to my chest and I felt a sharp stinging pain.

  Too shocked to really react, I looked dumbfoundedly down at my chest. The man had a large syringe in his hand and the needle was buried deep in my heart. I heard the sound of glass breaking at my feet before my world shifted and everything went black.