The Eldritch Conspiracy (Blood Song)

by Adams, Cat

  my weapons choices. Had I had the

  option of wearing a jacket it would have

  been easier, but Adriana had vetoed the

  idea, saying that this really wasn’t that

  type of an event. So I had a small gun in

  my evening bag, along with breath mints

  and a tube of lipstick.

  “My parents are here this evening,”

  Gunnar said.

  Adriana gave him a startled look that

  he ignored in favor of staring directly at

  me. Looking at him, I saw that despite

  his careful grooming, his face reflected

  the strain of the last few days.

  “My father asked for a word with you,

  Celia. Apparently he has a message from

  my grandfather.”

  Adriana’s gulp was clearly audible

  over the voices of the crowd and the

  muted background music. Apparently I

  was missing something important.

  “Your grandfather?”

  “Yes. You should be flattered. Odin

  doesn’t often take an interest.”

  Odin? Oh crap. Thorsen wasn’t just

  Gunnar’s surname. He was actually

  Thor’s son? His father, the God of

  Thunder, was here at the party. Um, okay

  then. Wow. It was my turn to gulp. I

  suddenly wished I’d snagged one of the

  flutes of champagne that had been

  circulating around. I really needed a

  drink.

  I managed to choke out a response, but

  it wasn’t easy. “Oh, I’m flattered. I’m

  also alarmed.”

  Thorsen threw back his head and

  laughed.

  “Shall we join my parents then?” He

  winked at me. “I promise they won’t

  bite.”

  “Of course.” Adriana looped her arm

  through his. I couldn’t read her thoughts,

  but her expression was enough. She

  wouldn’t miss this for the world. Gunnar

  held out his other arm for me and I took

  it. Not just for show, either. I needed the

  support.

  Thor, God of Thunder, son of Odin

  Allfather, looked great in a tuxedo. Like

  his son, he was big and blond. Unlike his

  son, he seemed to be having a marvelous

  time. He was all smiles as he introduced

  his wife. “Father, mother, this is

  Princess Adriana of Serenity, the

  daughter of Queen Lopaka.” They

  murmured their acknowledgment and

  greetings. “And this”—Gunnar gestured

  to me—“is Princess Celia Graves,

  granddaughter

  of

  Queen

  Lopaka’s

  beloved brother, Kalino.”

  “Ladies, it is a pleasure.” Thor

  stepped forward. Taking Adriana’s hand

  in his, he kissed her knuckles, bowing

  just the tiniest bit at the waist. “King

  Dahlmar is a lucky man.”

  “And I, a lucky woman.” She smiled

  as he released her hand. Then he turned

  his attention to me; his wide blue eyes,

  the color of a midnight sky with flecks of

  starlight, took me in from head to toe.

  He took my hand, as he had

  Adriana’s, laying a gentle kiss on my

  fingertips. I felt a jolt of electricity pass

  from him to me and gasped in surprise. It

  made him chuckle, a low, wicked sound

  that earned him a poke in the ribs from

  his wife. “Stop playing games and give

  her the message,” she scolded. He gave

  an exaggerated sigh, but released my

  hand and slid his arm around her waist,

  pulling her close to him.

  “Very well. My father said to tell you

  these words. ‘Have faith. The right

  weapon can overcome what will come

  against you.’”

  That was encouraging, if vague. “I

  don’t suppose he told you which weapon

  or what is coming against me?” I put a

  wheedling tone in my voice. It made him

  laugh.

  “I’m sorry. No. He probably shouldn’t

  have said anything at all, but he likes

  you. You remind him a bit of the

  Valkyries.”

  That was a serious compliment. I did

  my best to remember what little I’d been

  taught about the Norse pantheon back in

  my university days so that I could phrase

  my thanks properly. “My thanks to you

  Thor, Thunderer, and to Odin Allfather.

  I’ll endeavor to be worthy of such high

  praise.”

  He leaned forward, close enough that

  his beard tickled my ear when he

  whispered, “You already are. Your

  exploits will someday be written on the

  walls of our great hall. So it has been

  foretold.”

  What could I say to that? I was

  literally speechless. Fortunately I was

  saved from having to reply by the ringing

  of the chime that signaled dinner was

  about to be served. Gunnar, Thor, and

  his lady melted into the crowd moving

  into the dining room without saying

  good-bye. Adriana, meanwhile, grabbed

  me by the arm and began dragging me

  bodily down the hallway to the back

  entrance.

  “Come on, we’re late! We were

  already supposed to be in there at the

  head table when the chimes rang.” She

  wasn’t quite running, but she was

  walking damned fast. At the end of the

  hall, the Secret Service agents standing

  guard came to attention. One opened the

  door. The other pulled a small holy

  water squirt gun to confirm we were

  who we seemed to be.

  “I’m coming. Will you relax? It’s not

  like they’re going to start the party

  without you. You’re the bride, for

  heaven’s sake.”

  She glared at me over her shoulder.

  “Only you would say something like

  that.” She offered her hand to be

  sprayed. She passed, of course, and

  scurried through the door and onto the

  dais. I was seconds behind.

  The head table was long and narrow,

  with all seats facing the crowd. King

  Dahlmar and Adriana were in the center.

  I was seated to her right. Igor was to my

  right. Natasha had the last seat on our

  side. Dahlmar’s side consisted of the

  king, Queen Lopaka, Dahlmar’s brother

  Arkady, and, finally, Olga. I didn’t know

  who’d made the seating arrangements,

  but I was happy with them. I was near

  enough to Adriana to protect her if need

  be, and Olga was as far away as we

  could decently manage.

  While the tables below had only

  candlelight to see by, we had stage

  lighting. It made it difficult to see clearly

  out into the crowd, but put us on display

  nicely. Of course it also made me

  nervous as hell. I so didn’t want to do

  something hideous and embarrassing in

  front of hundreds of people. And it

  would be just my luck for it to happen.

  I shook my head. Don’t even think />
  about it.

  It took a few minutes for everyone to

  be seated, but eventually the guests were

  all in their places and only the servers

  were on their feet, moving quietly among

  the tables, filling wine and water

  glasses.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, honored

  guests.” Dahlmar spoke without a

  microphone, but his voice was clearly

  audible throughout the room. All

  murmured conversations ceased as every

  eye turned to him. “I want to thank you

  all for joining me in this celebration. I

  am happier than I can even express at the

  prospect of marrying my beloved, and

  truly overjoyed that you have chosen to

  join us. We met by chance and were

  paired by duty, but have had the

  extraordinary luck to find love.”

  He turned to Adriana, and his smile

  was warm and adoring. Either he truly

  loved her or he was one hell of an actor.

  “This morning the Princess Adriana was

  baptized into my faith. I did not ask this

  of her. It was her choice, her decision.

  But I am most glad to know that she

  shares my beliefs and the beliefs of my

  people.” I heard gasps from several

  places in the room. So Adriana’s actions

  had been a surprise to some, at least. “In

  honor of this, I wish to present her with

  a very special gift.”

  He gestured to Igor, who reached into

  the jacket of his tux to produce a jewel

  case, which he passed to the king.

  Dahlmar opened the case, laying it on

  the plate in front of Adriana. She stared

  down at it, her eyes gone wide with

  shock.

  “The Eldritch Cross was one of the

  great magical artifacts of my people. Its

  powers are legendary. Its loss, during

  the sieges of the Second World War,

  was a devastating blow to our people.

  The seers among us have stated that

  there will be continuing strife within the

  ruling family so long as it remains

  missing.”

  He turned to Adriana, taking her hand

  in his. “Would that I had the original to

  give you. Alas, I do not. But this, the

  copy made for my mother by my father

  with his own hands and his own magic,

  is my gift to you.”

  He let go of her hand to take the

  necklace from its case. He held it up so

  the crowd could get a good look. It was

  a lovely piece, a large cross, encrusted

  with emeralds, pearls, and golden topaz,

  colors that perfectly suited Adriana’s

  beauty. He fastened it around her

  delicate neck, kissed her tenderly, and

  turned back to the crowd.

  “With your indulgence I have another

  bit of business to attend to before we

  eat.” He stood, and everyone in the room

  followed suit.

  “There is an award given to citizens

  of Rusland whose actions on behalf of

  King

  and

  Country

  show

  such

  extraordinary courage and valor as to

  provide an example for all to aspire to. I

  am, perhaps, a bit tardy in bestowing

  this honor on its recipient, for her

  actions in thwarting not one, but two

  political coups surely earned her this

  honor long before now.”

  He turned to me, and I found myself

  blinking stupidly as cameras flashed

  blindingly. “Princess Celia Kalino

  Graves, I present you the Silver Eagle of

  Rusland with my deepest gratitude, and

  that of all my countrymen.”

  He crossed the stage to stand in front

  of me. He embraced me, then stepped

  back. Reaching into his pocket, he

  withdrew a loop of black ribbon with an

  exquisite silver bird hanging from it. He

  put it on me, settling the weight of it on

  my shoulders before turning to face the

  crowd. “I give you Princess Celia, hero

  of Rusland.”

  “Huzzah!” Male voices, scattered

  throughout the room, called out the honor

  the first time. But the second and third

  cries were voiced by nearly everyone, a

  joyous shout that echoed through the hall.

  King Dahlmar hugged me again,

  discreetly passing me a pristine white

  handkerchief as he did. I wiped the tears

  from my eyes as Dahlmar moved back to

  stand behind his seat. “Now, our

  business is done. Let us eat.”

  26

  The bachelorette party was scheduled

  for a late start, but the dinner ran long,

  so we didn’t have time to change before

  dashing to the limo that would take us to

  the docks. Milena, Adriana’s best friend,

  was officially hosting the party even

  though it was being held on Adriana’s

  yacht. The Secret Service had derailed

  the original plan of renting a cruise ship

  and hiring caterers due to “security

  concerns,” which I hadn’t been privy to.

  Yet. So Adriana’s own crew and staff

  had been pressed into service.

  The limo was a little crowded, what

  with me, Adriana, and our security—just

  Helen Baker for me, but a team of four,

  plus the driver, for the bride.

  The day I’d arrived on Serenity, the

  harbor had been busy but not too

  crowded. Now … my, how things had

  changed. Every slip was filled and more

  ships were anchored offshore; their

  passengers and crew probably used

  small boats to get back and forth from

  the island. The landward ends of the

  piers, this side of the security barriers,

  were crawling with paparazzi and

  crowded with onlookers hoping for a

  glimpse of the princess. What a freaking

  security nightmare!

  When the car doors opened we were

  buffeted by a wave of sound—people

  calling Adriana’s name, and even mine

  —and the flashes of dozens of cameras.

  We each gave a brief wave before the

  guards hustled us onto the yacht.

  The sun was setting, bathing the low-

  hanging cirrus clouds in a blaze of reds,

  pinks, and purples that were reflected in

  the ocean. We were met on deck by the

  hostess and the other three guests.

  Adriana introduced me to Milena, a

  pretty redhead with lots of freckles and

  the most amazing amber-colored eyes.

  I’d wondered about Adriana’s best

  friend from earliest childhood and was

  surprised to find that she was mostly a

  subdued, serious woman with an acerbic

  wit. She soon had all of us in stitches as

  she detailed how she’d been followed

  around all day by none-too-subtle

  members of the world press, many of

  whom had offered her obscene amounts

  of money for the “inside scoop” and

  pictures from the party.
r />   Nani and Naneka were identical twins

  with honey-colored hair and blue eyes. It

  would have been impossible to tell them

  apart if Nani wasn’t hugely pregnant.

  They

  were

  bright

  and

  cheerful,

  chattering away like a pair of birds.

  Keohi, on the other hand, was a sultry,

  sloe-eyed, dark-haired beauty who hung

  silently back, watching the others, but

  only rarely saying anything. When she

  did, it was worth listening.

  Adriana noticed me watching Keohi

  and spoke into my mind. You are right

  to be impressed; Keohi is quite

  brilliant. She works as a marine

  biologist, studying the effect of oil

  spills on ocean ecosystems and

  developing natural methods to contain

  the spills. She went on at length, talking

  to me about her friend while laughing at

  the jokes of the others. I found it

  fascinating that she could carry on two

  entirely different conversations at once.

  Keohi once told me she was only able

  to first become published in scientific

  journals under a male pseudonym,

  because people saw too much beauty to

  believe she had brains.

  I’d never had that problem. In the land

  of the Hollywood butterflies, I’d always

  been a useful brown moth.

  But now you are royalty, Celia. A

  pedigree has its own beauty.

  Yeah, but that’s not the sort of fame I

  ever wanted. Adriana looked at me

  curiously, truly not understanding why

  being royal had so little value to me.

  I went back to chatting amiably by the

  dancing light of a string of party lanterns

  hung around the deck. The drinks were

  plentiful, the conversation excellent. It

  didn’t take long for the atmosphere to

  lull me into a sense of complacency.

  That’s why bodyguards are seldom

  guests at the party, but to hell with it.

  There were plenty of other guards there.

  I decided to have a little fun.

  I discovered, to my delight, that the

  Michelin-star chef on Adriana’s yacht

  had previously worked at the secure

  facility where Vicki had lived for much

  of her adult life. He’d once made me

  Belgian waffles and syrup in liquid

  form. Today I was treated to all the same

  appetizers as the other guests, liquified,

  in a trio of chilled martini glasses. I

  found that both clever and touching—

  someone, the hostess or the chef, had

  taken time to think of me.

  All four of Adriana’s buddies were

  nice, funny, intelligent women. They