That would all change soon enough. Raina personally would see to it.
* * * *
Chapter Six
She arrived with very little fanfare at the Hall of the High Court, the primary meeting quarters of the International Vampiric Council and its Elders for at least the past two decades. Stepping out of the back of a police cruiser with only a young and unknown Commoner, Sophie, to escort her up the front steps provided an odd photo opportunity for the paparazzi. They had trailed her from the scene of the shooting to the entrance of the retired and remodeled old church.
The building was appropriately gothic in architecture and its overall theme, actually quite similar to the Fallamhain Estate. It featured an almost sinister-looking wrought-iron fence around its small urban property line, stone gargoyles perched high at the corners of the roof, and intriguing but essentially formless (and non-religious) stained-glass designs in its windows. As she had heard, the centuries-old Anglican cathedral had been abandoned long ago when its original human congregation had moved on to favor a larger, newer, and more modern structure over forty years ago. Its deed had changed hands several times before Grand Duchess Duvessa Fallamhain had quietly acquired it a few months before the coming-out event that officially revealed the existence of vampires to the general public. Had she attempted to buy it after that point in history, religious figures and organizations would have made it virtually impossible for her to purchase any such real estate.
Raina had called ahead to speak with Loki. She reassured him that she was fine and briefed him on exactly what had happened. At that time, she had only planned to leave the scene of the attack and visit the hospital where the paramedics had taken Svetlana. However, after Loki had handed off the phone, Lady Olivia had insisted that it would be a mistake at that point to refrain from attending the IVC summit, especially after all that had happened. Obviously, someone had been trying to stop her from appearing at such a major event. Failing to show as a result of this attack would cause others to take that as a sign of fear and submission that was unbecoming of a Grand Duchess. Furthermore, Olivia had recommended that she not even bother to clean up or change clothes, promising her that the macabre display of her enemies’ blood would reinforce the message that not only had she survived but she would not be deterred from fulfilling her duties. Alas, at that point, Raina had already wiped away the worst of the blood and gore from her face, hands, and shoulder, but there was still enough soaked into her blazer and blouse to show up quite obviously.
As Raina ascended the granite stairs of the Hall, she noticed Olivia’s recommendation was not only for the benefit of impressing those of the IVC but also to provide some slightly gruesome publicity. She and Sophie both wore clothes ruined by both human and vampire blood, Sophie’s hair was a tousled and damp mess, and Raina’s black stockings were practically shredded. Still, they both managed to keep their eyes straight ahead as they stepped in through the front doors of the Hall that were held open by a Commoner and a Sabertooth, additionally guarded now by two armed and uniformed policemen. The resulting pictures and video were splashed across newspapers, magazines, and web pages for weeks afterward. Olivia’s PR skills had yet again proved effective.
Lady Olivia, Loki, Simon, and the others awaited them just inside, standing patiently in the main lobby. They waited until the heavy, reinforced, windowless doors were closed behind them, leaving the cameras and dumb stares of the outside world behind. The very moment those doors were shut, they all advanced upon Raina in a barely-contained rush. Of course, Loki was the only one to actually embrace her, although the others all gathered around her so closely that she immediately felt a bit claustrophobic. Loki held her only briefly, giving her a surprisingly chaste kiss upon her cheek rather than her lips. She could sense that he was genuinely relieved to see her relatively unharmed in the wake of the attack, but he wisely chose to limit his physical affection so as not to draw criticism from Olivia or anyone else present to witness it. As liberal as sexual attitudes were among vampires, events such as this warranted an almost sterile air of formality.
“You said you were okay on the phone,” Loki told her in a soft, private voice, “but I had to see you with my own eyes to be sure.”
“I’m just a little rough around the edges, like always,” she replied with a smirk she could not hold back, though it almost immediately disappeared. “I killed people tonight, Loki. I killed three men … three humans.”
“I know you did.” He kissed her again, this time upon the lips, although again quite chastely. “I know.”
“She saved us,” Sophie offered from nearby. “If she hadn’t gone after them like she had, we all would’ve been dead meat.”
Either because of Sophie’s blunt choice of words, or because she was a Commoner speaking out of turn, Olivia gave her a sharp scowl that made her niece hunker down slightly and take a full step away from Raina and Loki. Simon said nothing, but the obviously relieved smile upon his face as he nodded at Raina said enough. The secrets of the cellar were still safe between two living souls, rather than being left only to him once again.
“Well then,” Raina finally said with a heavy sigh as Loki stepped away and she turned toward Olivia, “I think we’ve kept everyone waiting long enough. What do you say we get on with this thing?”
Nodding with an absolutely somber expression, there was something obviously hinting in her eyes as Olivia replied, “Of course, your grace. We eagerly await your words.”
Raina could only take that to mean either, Remember our conversation, or perhaps, Please don’t this screw up. In times such as this, Olivia seemed not so much a mere advisor as an instructor, a tutor, more or less giving her a hands-on crash course in being a Grand Duchess. At times, she almost felt as though Olivia were trying to act as her boss. But Olivia knew quite well where the lines were drawn and that, being a Commoner, she could never be Grand Duchess herself. There was no worry that Olivia was trying to be insubordinate or even slightly stepping out of line in her role. She seemed more than happy to settle for being one of the most politically powerful and publicly-recognized Commoners in the world.
Still dressed impeccably and stepping forth with the utmost confidence, Olivia led the way as everyone else fell in behind. Simon would remain in the lobby, presumably to watch from afar, as it was by tradition that no human was allowed into the actual Hall of the High Court during any ceremony other than the Communion of Blood. There were no cameras or video equipment allowed in the Hall, no members of the press, only those that had been formally invited or allowed (in writing) by the Grand Duchess to attend and bear witness to the proceedings under this roof.
The general design of the cathedral had not been changed so much as merely adapted. Of course, all crosses and other religious references had been removed entirely from the premises, and those that were either built or carved or engraved into the structure of the building itself had been tastefully erased or otherwise made indistinguishable. The large, elaborate pipe organ that once had inhabited the cathedral had long ago been removed before Duvessa had ever taken possession of the property; Raina sometimes wished they had kept it, but she could think of no reason to justify it, for there seemed to be no appropriate occasion for which one could ever be used.
There still was no mistaking that this had once been a church, of course, as the rows of pews, the pulpits, and even the altar were original pieces that had been left intact, although cosmetically modified. The only symbols that could be found anywhere were a few large ankhs carved or painted here and there, the most notable being the large gold-plated ankh secured to the front of the center pulpit. The quality, grain, and color of the woodwork everywhere, the shape and arrangement of the pews, and the distinctive steeple shape of the roof from which the faux chandelier lights now hung reminded Raina uncomfortably of the church she had once attended as a child with her parents – in particular, the one in which she had attended their funeral service. She wondered if someday this building might pl
ay host to her own memorial service, just as it had when Duvessa’s death was officially mourned in the same evening that Raina was formally recognized as the new Grand Duchess. Someday, she realized, another person would walk down this aisle as she had and receive the same large golden ankh she now wore, stand behind that same pulpit, and face a large gathering of almost every prominent High Court, Commoner, and Sabertooth vampire in the world as they proclaimed their oath of loyalty to her. Yes, someday … but not yet.
Sporting perhaps the only high-tech gadget in regular use here, Raina clasped in her hand what was essentially a Bluetooth headset piece that transmitted her voice to the very discreetly hidden speakers of the Hall’s closed-circuit PA system. Unfortunately, the wireless PA system was a necessary evil, as she did not have the vocal power necessary to speak loudly enough to be heard by all without actually yelling. Just as well, she could not be wandering about with a microphone in hand like some kind of rock star or televangelist when she needed her hands free for a variety of ceremonial tasks. Thankfully, this was something Duvessa had also commissioned Simon to help install shortly before her death, replacing the awkward and unsightly but more conventional stationary microphones and speakers on stands that had once been used. Raina would wait until she was standing before the full gathering before she would put it upon her right ear. She hated the way the thing felt in her ear, and she felt that the Bluetooth device with its blinking LED light made her look too much like a space alien of some kind when combined with her glowing skin and pointy ears.
The immediate downside to the wireless microphone was that, as Duvessa had learned after the very first occasion when the system was used, people outside of the building could eavesdrop on everything that was picked up by that microphone, thus limiting the privacy and relative secrecy of the events in the Hall. Anything that was transmitted through the air, even encrypted, was essentially fair game for anyone willing and able to intercept the signal outside. However, Raina needed only to press a button on the device to switch it off and thus ensure that what was said within the Hall would, for the most part, stay within the Hall.
The only other modern devices in attendance – quite high-tech, actually – were Raina’s high-end laptop computer and a high-definition video projector. Of course, Simon had been instrumental in obtaining and setting up these items, although he had done this well in advance of the guests’ arrival so as not to cause a fuss over a human being present in the Hall.
Olivia had the distinguished honor of being the one to first stroll down the center aisle of the Hall. As she did so, the many voices of those still in attendance quickly grew silent in respectful anticipation. She rose the three steps from the floor-level center aisle to stand before the center pulpit, turning on a heel and almost militaristically snapping to attention. She spoke without the aid of the PA system, her public voice loud and clear enough to be heard easily throughout the Hall, assisted only by the acoustic design of the cathedral, itself.
“All those in attendance,” Olivia began with a voice that seemed crafted either for operas or a Shakespearean stage, “please rise.”
Peeking around the corner, Raina saw the audience of over two hundred vampires standing up as one, moving almost like a large organic machine of some kind. The seating was arranged in a V-shaped formation that angled in toward the center aisle, spaced apart with twice the normal distance usually afforded between standard church pews. As everyone arose, they also turned aside so that they could be afforded a clear view of her entry. The arrangement, Olivia had earlier confessed, was actually of her own design, although it had been designed more in accordance with Duvessa’s egotistical wishes than for any real practical purposes.
“Dukes and Duchesses, Counts and Countesses, Lords and Ladies,” Olivia declared, pausing a brief moment for effect, “Her grace, Raina Fallamhain, Grand Duchess of the International Vampiric Council, Fountainhead of the Fallamhain bloodline, and Mistress of the House of Fallamhain.”
Her entry cued, she drew in a breath, steeled herself with a second’s hesitation of closed eyes and a quick murmured prayer of “God help me,” Raina opened her eyes and exhaled quietly as she rounded the corner of the main archway. With her chin up, back straight, and chest slightly out, she put on an appropriate face for the occasion: dead-serious, fearless, and perhaps even a bit angry. She walked calmly up the clean red carpet and glanced only with her eyes to the right and left as she advanced. Her sword was slung across her back in its sheath and ready for an easy draw from above her right shoulder. The back edge of the sheath lightly bumped the top of her left buttock with every other step, feeling like someone jabbing a finger into the top of her hip – a finger, or perhaps a gun. She made a mental note to have the sheath adjusted later, assuming she survived the latter part of this already horrible night.
Loki followed exactly thirteen paces after her, accompanied only by Sophie. Normally, Raina would have been immediately accompanied by Svetlana and Sophie, followed then by Loki and two or more attendants of his own, but the earlier attack had forced the change in ceremonial protocol. She could see and sense the reaction that some had to the unconventional entry, the diminished public presence of the House of Fallamhain once again being due to recent events of violence. It was in that moment that it was perhaps most painfully obvious just how close to extinction the Fallamhain bloodline was in reality. At a glance, one could plainly see how limited the actual personnel base of the House of Fallamhain was, not counting the many allies, associates, and other assorted contacts that made up the greater part of her web of political and financial power.
There was no helping the fact that her heart was racing as she strode along. Raina had always hated to be the center of attention, always feared having so many eyes looking her way all at once. Perhaps it stemmed from all of the media attention she had received for a few weeks immediately following the death of her parents, due to the high-profile police pursuit, crash, and shooting that precipitated it. Or perhaps it was something as simple as a minor but humiliating mistake she’d made during a third-grade class play where she had tripped and fallen in front of everyone, causing everyone to laugh and sending her scurrying offstage in tears – the teasing had lasted for months. Or maybe it was simply because she was still uneasy after what had already happened that night. She feared that the sheer emotional stress, alone, might push her right back to the ragged edge of bloodlust once more.
Whatever the case, in the dim ambient lighting of the Hall, her surging adrenaline and quickened pulse was causing her skin to glow with an almost embarrassingly intense luminosity. Supposedly, the glow of a High Court’s flesh was something to be admired, a truly wondrous sight to behold; Raina simply despised it because it made it that much more difficult to hide how she truly felt at any given moment, making her too easy to read. The other High Court vampires in the Hall already could sense her anxiety well enough without the addition of a visual cue to confirm whatever they sensed. The swarm of others’ emotions that swirled inside of her was impossible to read, and the confusing wash of her empathic sensitivities was, in itself, an added stress. Just barely, she managed to ignore it enough to remain functional and sane as she finally reached the altar where Olivia stood, finally putting some comforting distance between herself and the crowd.
As expected, Olivia dropped to one knee and bowed her head as Raina neared. Raina extended a hand and gently touched the top of Olivia’s head, whereupon Olivia took her hand into hers and kissed it dryly. Raina then moved to stand behind the lectern while Olivia took her place with the others in the front-row pews on either side of the aisle.
The IVC was, for the most part, a gathering of wealthy aristocrats from around the globe, although mostly European. Frankly, many of them tended to be severe attention whores. A great number of those that had lived during those times before the official “coming out of the coffin” event had come to resent being forced for so long to conceal their true identities; now that times had changed, they relis
hed being in the spotlight, and they tended to dress and act accordingly.
However, this subculture-of-a-subculture only constituted about half of the High Court populace, as the rest were far more conservative and modest. The attention-seekers wore expensive and flashy dresses, suits, and jewelry, sporting elaborate and artistic hairstyles and sometimes gaudy makeup; the others simply looked like ordinary Wall Street business executives, albeit with pointy ears and generally a much fairer skin color. Although there had never been any official stipulation written that demanded such, the center aisle was a perfect divider between the two factions of the IVC, as one could tell at a glance which side was mostly comprised of which political affiliation. Being politically aligned to the left or right was quite a literal concept here.
Unfortunately, neither side was consistently easier to deal with than the other. On either side, there were some that had sympathized with Raina’s situation and been supportive from the start. Just as well, there were some that very thinly veiled their hatred of her for who she was and what she supposedly represented. Some despised her because of their conservative opinions regarding mixed races, her relatively young age, and her desire to change the Code; others loathed her because she was not liberal enough with her views on sex and violence to keep alive some brutal or lascivious traditions, much less to expand upon them.
Raina faced this fang-bearing and sword-toting conglomeration of supposed nobility with a straight and confident face – the best she could manage, anyway, which she hoped was convincing enough. She held both hands up and apart, and then lowered them gently. As one, the IVC sat down on cue. She had always seen priests, pastors, ministers, and the like making the same gesture in church proceedings, so it felt especially strange to find herself, a female vampire, being the conductor of that same gesture with such a large number of people … in an old church, no less.
The Darkest Colors- Exsanguinations Page 12