Chapter 15

Rome, Italy

 

The rustling sound of satin woke Valerie up. Her body tensed and she lay there like a surprised rabbit. She was sure she'd heard a noise, but it was dark, still the middle of the night and the door was locked. Oh right, locked doors kept out no one truly dangerous.

Was it Jack? What time was it? She was too afraid for it to be Jack.

Had Lucas come back? An inappropriate and poorly timed image of him prowling up the bed to finish what they had started—  

Someone was pacing in her room, not even attempting to be quiet. Not Lucas.

The smell of iron and rotting flowers was so strong she could taste it in the back of her throat, had to resist the urge to gag. Vampire.

If she could get her hand under her pillow and find her gun without the vampire knowing, she might get out of this. She moved slowly, hand steady, eyes closed, breath even. This was a do or die moment. Either she was calm and got shit done or she was going to die.

A tinkling laugh came from the dark. Was Doris Day a vampire?

“Just get up sleepy head, I know you're awake. I've been making enough noise...” she paused theatrically and continued in a whisper, “to wake the dead!” She laughed at her own joke and Valerie felt her stomach cramp painfully in terror. Marion.

“Let me put you at ease. Your little gun is gone and if you scream I'll kill anyone who comes to help you.”

The light switched on and Valerie saw a vision of crimson before her. Marion’s auburn hair was piled on top of her head, the red gown long and made with yards and yards of satin as though she were going to a 19^th century opera performance instead of some crappy little hotel room in Italy.

Hysterically, she wondered if there was a height requirement for being a vampire. Marion, Lucas and Rachel, they were all so tall.

Marion smoothed her skirts demurely and settled herself into the same chair Lucas had occupied a few hours ago. She leaned back and paused, like a cat seeing a ghost. Her delicate nostrils flared. A peculiar look flashed across her face and then was gone. Rage? Jealousy?

Her expression settled on content happiness, which did nothing to ease the knot of fear in Val’s stomach. Marion ran her finger along the arm of the chair slowly, then wiped her hands against each other as though trying to brush off something distasteful. “Well, I see you have been a busy girl. Jack is here for you, Lucas has been...right here for you and now you have me. We are going on a little trip. Kind of like a girl's weekend, but with more blood.” She laughed again and Valerie pulled the covers tighter around her.

Marion waved a finger at Valerie as though she were talking to a naughty puppy, “Now you listen to me dearie, so long as you don't muck about you should come out of this alive. Though, Lord knows, you don't seem worth it. So hop out of bed and get dressed. Wouldn't it be dreadful if Jack showed up and I was here? What would he do? Can you imagine? He's got quite the death wish....I like that in a man.” She finished decisively.

Val stood up, her legs fairly steady as she went to the closet to find something to wear. “It's going to be bloody freezing so wear something warm. If you have something of Lucas' that would be even better. You don't want a hungry vampire to forget that you are marked property. His scent will keep them away.”

Val grabbed her jeans and sat down to put them on. “No, I don't have anything of his. I think you misunderstand. He really has no interest in me. It's a business relationship.”

Marion's voice was lethally quiet. “What business would he have with a Hunter’s daughter? You are too stupid to speak. If you don't have any value to him then I may as well kill you now. So try again....”

She glided over, her knuckles brushing down Val’s cheek and resting against her neck. Fingers dug into her pulse. It hurt and made it hard to breathe. Val began to feel faint.

“Tell me you have value. Tell me he will choose you, and you can come along.” The fingers pushed harder and Valerie began to choke.

“Yes!” she gasped out.

Marion released her, clapping her hands in pleasure. “Great! This is going to be fun. Get dressed already.” She settled back in the chair and casually flipped through a magazine while Valerie got her breathing back under control.

“So tell me about it.”

Val paused. “About what?”

“About Lucas. Isn’t he great in bed? So virile. So forceful. Although I confess that I am quite surprised. A Hunter’s daughter. After all this time, who’d think that would be the switch to flick. Click? What does one do with a switch? It’s not a branch to whip with anymore, is it?”

Val didn’t know what to say and decided the questions were rhetorical. She buttoned her jeans and looked for a shirt.

Marion ripped a page out of the magazine and waved it at Valerie. “Put this in your purse, will you. I want this dress. I should have worn something with a pocket. Funny, isn’t it, all this fabric and no pocket.”

Hilarious.

Val looked around the room, the moment feeling very surreal. Marion wanted to talk boys and fashion? I’m fucked.

 “How much of your blood has he had? How often does he drink from you? Has he promised to change you yet?”

That was a lot of questions. “No. He’s not offered to change me.”

Marion pursed her lips. “That’s odd. But he took you to our little dance, and I know how he’s watched you. Oh, he was worked up when you almost died on that dance floor.”

The whole thing seemed a bit hazy to Valerie, no doubt fatal blood loss would do that to you, but “worked up” didn’t seem like an accurate description of Lucas’ behavior that night. Calm with moments of irritation seemed more apt.

“Does he drink from you every day? Is it a quickie or do you feel faint afterwards?”

It didn’t seem like a good idea to tell Marion that Lucas didn’t want her blood. He’d told her that a vampire might kill her for being an empath. “It’s his choice. We do whatever he wants.”

Marion huffed and raised a hand to her chest as though shocked. “Let me give you some advice. Woman to…girl,” she said, condescendingly.

Since Marion was cradle robbing anyone under 300 Val didn’t take offense.

“Don’t give him whatever he wants. You will lose him very quickly. Never let him get bored. Although, really, Lucas has been bored for a good two hundred years, nothing you do can keep him for long, I expect. How do you entertain a man whose copy of the Kama Sutra is made of wood cuts?” Marion laughed.

Was that a joke? Was she…serious?

Val finished dressing, put on her coat and went to get her purse. She needed that purse. She didn't know how much the holy water and stake could really help her. If things came down to a hand to hand fight she was toast, but she had to have something!

She put her purse over her, wearing it across her body so that it wouldn’t fall off while Marion studied her intently. She threw the magazine to the side lightly, her inhuman strength making the magazine slam into the wall with tremendous force, a little puff of paint and plaster chipping off and settling on the cover.

 “Right. You know how to do this. Put your arms around me, sweetheart.” Marion said suggestively.

Val blinked and looked away. Not wanting to see Marion come towards her but afraid to look away as well. She felt Marion's bony arms clasp her and pull her forward so that their bodies were flush.

She had to turn her face to keep from being pushed into Marion's small chest. The cold began at her feet, whipped around her, spreading upwards like she was a plant caught in winter’s first frost.

The journey was terrible, painful and disorienting. When they materialized in a dark, basement-type room, little bits of ice clung to her fingers.  

Val wiped her icy hands on her clothes and Marion shrugged, a frown tugging her lips. “Damn that man, he's so good at everything. He makes me look like an amateur. Next time bring a hat.”

Val spoke and noticed her breath fogged in front of her, “Why, damn him?”

Marion shook her head lightly and looked around, as though trying to get her bearings. “Well, first of all, because he deserves it. He's been impossible for the last few hundred years. You know he used to be incredible—  fabulous in the sack, and if you were going to rape and pillage, he was the man you wanted at your back.”

She shook her head in disgust.  “But now? The worst conversation! No parties. He doesn't even try to amuse us or keep us happy. Lucas used to get things done!” She paused, her head cocked birdlike to the left as she listened intently.

Valerie didn’t hear anything.

“I can feel him here somewhere. Come on then.”

Marion rushed off and Val hurried to keep up, almost jogging. Her joints ached from the cold trip and she couldn't help but wonder why it had been so different from travelling with Lucas. Was it raw power or did he shelter her in some way?

 They came to a staircase and Marion rushed up them, already at the top when Val had only taken a few steps. She turned the corner and kept going while Val tried to move faster. She didn't think it would be a good idea to get lost.

 She needed to get to Lucas. He'd keep her safe. Even if she tried to make a break for it, she wouldn't get very far since Marion was so fast. She heard Marion call out a friendly greeting and then she backed up and looked down the stairs at Val, a wide smile on her face as though Val was in for a treat.

Oh shit.

Marion held a finger to her lips, signaling for Valerie to be quiet before moving out of sight again.

What should she do? Should she be quiet? What if it was Lucas? She strained to listen but Marion's voice was low. Marion came back and gestured for Val to come up the stairs. “Surprise! What do you think? They didn't have any in blond.”

Rachel stood before her, wearing a tailored black dress shirt with lace along the edges and a high collar. Her slacks were black wool, ending with a pair of insanely high heels that made her look like a runway model. Her blood red lips were arranged in a frown. Rachel looked Val over very carefully like she was an alien, maybe a unicorn.

Rachel's voice was light and feminine. “What the hell are you going to do with her?”

Marion clucked at Rachel, as though that were a stupid question, then leaned in to give her a quick peck on the lips. Rachel kissed her back absently, eyes never leaving Val.

“She's insurance. She'll force Lucas to keep Primogeniture for the challenge.”

Rachel finally looked away from Valerie, confusion on her face. “What’s Primogeniture?”

Marion giggled like a school girl, her skeletal hand raising to her lips in a parody of femininity. “Oh you Americans! No culture! No sense of tradition.”

Rachel shot a look at Val that seemed to say, ‘can you believe I put up with this everyday?’ Rachel had almost killed her yesterday. They were not buddy buddy.

“Well, Primogeniture used to apply to estates. It meant that the first born son got all the land and house and money, the kids born later got squat. If I lose tonight, Lucas could kill you too. Not just because you plotted with me but because my whole line commits treason with me. But

“Want to make a swap. You for her.

“Oh darling, I forgot. Why would you know? It's been six hundred years since there was a Challenge.” She stood straight up and adopted a lecturing posture, her hands folded together in front of her, her voice that of a teacher who liked a good flogging, “The Challenged—  in this case Lucas—  has the right to invoke Primogeniture. If he loses, his whole bloodline won't get wiped out. He can choose one to survive. But it doesn’t have to be the first born. Vampires try so very hard to stay alive that the threat of a whole bloodline being wiped out is enough to keep supporters on the side. Stick with the current king and they're safe. But Primogeniture means that some of these pussies who are dithering about might support us.” She looked very pleased as she watched Rachel thinking over the information.

Rachel frowned. “But she's not a vampire. Wouldn't he choose Dmitri or someone directly of his making?”

Marion’s little girl voice was back. “You need to pay attention to these things. I'm sure we have gone over this before. Haven't I? Anyway, Dmitri is head of his own line now. Lucas hasn't made a vampire in over two hundred years. I can't think of anyone he would want to walk out of that room alive.” A huge grin split her face. “Except her. He won't let her die! He'll have to choose her to keep her safe. It’s a swap darling. You will be safe if I lose. She will be safe if he loses. It's a win-win for us! Kiss me for doing something wonderful.” She closed her eyes and leaned forward, lips puckered.

Rachel ignored the upturned face. “You really think she’s that important to him?”

Marion kept her eyes closed, still waiting for a kiss. “Yes. Ahem.”

A smile tugged at Rachel's lips as she leaned forward to kiss Marion. The kiss was tentative, no more than a quick brush of lips. Marion trembled and leaned forward so that Rachel supported her weight. She took Marion's lip into her mouth and bit down hard, Marion squealing in surprise or pain. She pulled Marion into her arms, kissing her in earnest until blood slid down Marion's chin.

Val felt queasy and looked at the floor.

The pair broke apart and Rachel wiped up the stray trail of blood on Marion's chin with her thumb, sucking it into her mouth as Marion watched her avidly.

Thank god she hadn’t eaten before coming here.

She liked gay people, she could care less what they got up to, but murderous lesbians who drank each other's blood was a bit more tolerance than Val could muster. One had to draw the line somewhere, right?

Marion snapped her fingers and a long black cloak appeared. She draped it around Val, hiding her face. “Now, you are to be quiet and helpful. You will do everything I say, exactly as I tell you to, or I will break something of yours, like an arm or a neck. Do you understand?”

Val nodded jerkily.

“Great. I hate misunderstandings.”

Rachel extended her arm and Marion grasped it as they led the way.

“Tell me what to expect,” Rachel said.

Marion sighed theatrically. “Oh, well. Let’s see. Everyone will get there, have a chat and catch up—  time passes so quickly sometimes. I remember the last time we had a meeting, Genevieve was still making that ridiculous joke about not seeing me since Pompeii went to hell. You see what’s so ridiculous about that, right? It was 79 ad for crying out loud. Even Lucas wasn’t around! Anyway, so you have to gab a little, then we’ll sit down and Lucas will demand that everyone swear fealty to him. First up is Bruce, big mountain of a man with a deliciously wicked scar on his face. It took out his eye, poor brute. Anyway, he’s a swordsman.”

“Does he stand a chance of killing Lucas?”

“Good god, no! This is a question of attrition. We throw men at him until the job is done. We are going to peck him apart like a bird. And what a pecker Bruce has. Oh poo, don’t be jealous. If he can get in a good thrust or two—no, I’m not trying to antagonize you—  then that should be sufficient.”

“Lucas is almost invincible. I worry that— ”

“No, darling, hush. Lucas was near invincible, but after last night he’s quite weakened. Even if he’d gobbled down a few werewolves since last night, he wouldn’t be up to his full strength. Between the poison, blood loss and power transfers, he’s weak. Look at dead girl walking here. It took a hell of a lot to fix her.” Marion threw a glance at Val, “Bruce will stab him at least once or twice and so will the others. One after the other, all night long. Have faith. Lucas will be dead before sunrise. And I will get a tiara.”

Valerie tried to keep quiet, straining to catch every word. Was it true that Lucas was in such bad shape? She thought of him leaving by the door, not even willing to dematerialize last night.

She put her hand in her purse, hoping the cloak would hide any movement. She found the stake, but left it there. The bottle of holy water was small but much easier to hide in her hand. Even if it didn’t help, she needed something to help her feel more confident.  

They walked down a wide hallway. The ground was covered in flagstone and she could hear water dripping, like they were in a cave. Torches were lit periodically, shadowy pools of darkness gaping between each one.

 They reached a set of doors where two guards stood impassively. They wore swords and had their heads covered in helmets, like knights from long ago. Marion stopped and rapped her knuckles on the helmet, the sound echoing in the hallway. “The first thing I will do is get rid of these damned suits of armor! He refuses to modernize!”

The guards opened the doors and Marion took a deep breath, patting her hair. “Let’s go get me a throne!” she said happily.