Chapter 11
Crawl. Lannan was taking me to see
Crawl.
Who knew if I’d come
back whole? Who knew if I’d ever come back at all? I wrapped my
arms around me, shivering. Lannan circled me and I knew he was
waiting for me to speak, but I couldn’t say a word.
“What are you
thinking, Cicely?” Lannan slowly reached out and lifted my chin so
that I was forced to stare at him.
I swallowed, the feel
of his fingers on my skin making me breathless and angry. Finally,
after a moment, I told him the truth. “I’m afraid. Crawl terrifies
me. You terrify me.”
Lannan smiled, slow
and seductive. “Good. So very good. You should be afraid of us. But never fret, my
luscious. I will protect you from the Blood Oracle. He is my sire,
you know—as he is also Regina’s. He was a vampire for far longer
than he’s been the Blood Oracle, but two thousand years ago, he
underwent the ritual that changed him into what he is
now.”
“He really is a seer,
isn’t he?” And as I asked, it hit me like a ton of bricks: It
wasn’t just Crawl I was afraid of; it was what he might
see.
“Yes, he is.”
Lannan’s voice was suddenly hoarse and he brushed a flyaway strand
of hair out of my eyes. “Crawl is the eyes of the Vampire Nation,
as our Crimson Queen is the heart and fist. You fear his words. You
fear his visions—but everyone dies, Cicely. If that’s what you fear
he might say, remember: There are those of us who’ve come through
death and returned.”
“I don’t know if it’s
death I fear,” I said softly, pulling away and turning toward the
heavily draped window. “I faced it every day on the streets with my
mother.”
“Then what do you
fear?” His hand crept along my shoulder.
I wanted to shake it
off but forced myself to just stand there. “Losing Grieve again.
Losing my cousin. Seeing them hurt.”
“Are you truly so
selfless? It’s my observation, through thousands of years, that few
of the humans, few of the magic-born, are so generous. There’s
always an agenda, Cicely. You think I have one and you’re right.
But so do you. You don’t help us out of the goodness of your heart.
You signed the contract—”
“I signed the
contract because you threatened me. Yes, it was self-preservation. I personally don’t
give a fuck if you and the Indigo Court kill each other off, but I
also know that they hold the advantage, and dealing with you is a
lot more palatable than dealing with the Vampiric Fae. Myst is a
hurricane bearing down on our shores. You . . . you are the shark
in the water.”
“Ha! You still have
your sense of humor.” He laughed, then pulled me to him and planted
a long kiss on me, his tongue prying my mouth open as he ran his
hands over my butt. “I want you. You make me burn.”
“You want me because
I don’t want you.” But my words were a gasp on the
wind.
“I can make you want
me. I can make you beg.” But then he slowly let go. “But first, I
must take you to see the Blood Oracle. Do you remember Regina’s
admonishments from before?”
I wanted to say,
How could I forget? but then decided
that it might be better to ask for a refresher. So much had
happened—and it couldn’t hurt to be cautious. “I think so, but
please, refresh my memory.”
“No sudden moves.
Never address him directly—ask all questions through me. Never let
him stare you down.” He stopped, then abruptly sniffed me and
asked, “You aren’t on your period, are you?”
Blushing, I shook my
head. It was useless to resist.
“Good, because the
smell of menstrual blood drives him into a frenzy.” Lannan grabbed
my hand then and pulled me over to the bookshelf. This time I
watched closely and took note of the name of the book he used to
open the secret entrance. A copy of The Secret
Garden. Never knew if I’d need the info someday, but I
didn’t say anything. Vampires liked their secrets.
The door opened and
we slipped inside. The room was as dark as I remembered it, and the
table still sat in the center, the single lightbulb illuminating it
from overhead. Magic lived here. Magic deep and old, like tentacles
creeping in the dark.
Like Crawl, I thought.
I kept within the
field of light. The shadowed corners promised to hold danger.
Scuttling things, things that might eat me alive and spit out my
bones. On the center of the table rested a crystal, floating above
a crimson slab of glowing glass. The first time they’d taken me to
see Crawl—before I pledged myself to working with the vampires—I’d
seen it, and I’d been too petrified to say a word.
This time, I turned
to Lannan. “What is that?”
He gazed at me
softly, then, with a pout, shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.
Nobody’s ever seen fit to tell me.” A slight edge to his voice told
me that he wasn’t all too happy with the situation. “My sister, as
much as I love her, doesn’t think I can keep my mouth shut. And
Geoffrey . . .” He stopped, his face clouding over. “You might
think Geoffrey is your savior, waiting to rescue you from me, but
there’s far more to the Regent than you think. Once a warlord, always a warlord. Remember that,
Cicely, when it comes to picking your sire. Or your
sides.”
I coughed. “I’m not
planning on picking a sire. I have no intention of becoming a
vampire.”
But Lannan continued
as if I hadn’t said a word. “My guess: Either you’ll be forced into
Myst’s servitude, or you’ll choose one of us. I recommend me, for
obvious reasons, but if you hate me so much, then choose my sister.
She’s safer to be around than Geoffrey, though you may not believe
me right now.”
He pushed me toward
the table and leaned over the crystal, his gaze totally caught up
in the spinning crimson lights that began to emerge.
“Take my hand.
Now.”
I obeyed, reaching
out to clasp his cold fingers. Like a hurricane, the energy began
to spin, whirling into a giant eye, and we were caught in the
maelstrom. And without further ado, we went sliding through the
rabbit hole.
Peeling pages off the
calendar, we went sailing through the ether, buffeted by gale-force
winds to every side. We were the fence posts caught by the tornado,
a boat caught in storm surge, trees crowning from wildfire. I clung
to Lannan’s hand, no longer caring who he was—he was a lifeline and
if I let go, I knew I’d be lost.
It could have been
seconds or hours, but the spinning lights died down and we came to
rest in a room I remembered all too well. Crawl’s temple. Huge,
reverberating with energy, the chamber stretched beyond my sight
line, the ceilings well over thirty feet tall. The walls were a
blur of crimson—I’d thought it paper the first time I was here, but
now it looked like blood, staining the hall. Benches lined the
walls, magical sigils covered the floor, and the scent of ancient
magic filtered through every corner, every inch of the
temple.
Lannan put his arm
around my waist, and for once I did not resist as he led me
forward, toward the dais. The walkway was Tuscan gold, but unmarred
by magical symbols, and I knew better than to step off the path.
All the while, I held back, not wanting to approach the raised
platform. I knew who waited, and one visit had been
enough.
But then, within a
blink and a skip, we were there. Lannan stepped in front of me and,
much to my surprise, knelt at the foot of the dais covered in
curtains.
“Rise, son of Crawl.
The Blood Oracle recognizes you. Stand, Wild One, and beseech.
Answers will be offered for payment.” The voice came from behind
the curtains, rasped and harsh, the whistle of the wind through
ancient ruins, the sound of ghosts on the wind.
Slowly, Lannan stood.
“My Master. I come seeking your help.”
And then, he was
there, at the edge of the platform. Crawl. The Blood Oracle. The vampire every other
vampire revered, perhaps even more than their queen. Crawl, almost unrecognizable—if he’d ever been
human, it didn’t show. Crawl, who was
more a force than a being anymore.
Bent and twisted,
Crawl crept rather than walked, like a bug or a spider. His skin
was blackened, charred by some unseen fire that burned from deep
within him, his hair falling in clumps of dreadlocks long
lignified.
In front of the dais,
rising up to his reach, stood a fountain of bubbling blood, ringed
by unwavering flames. The blood was fresh, smelling fetid and
cloying, and it sounded like a brook. Crawl’s lidless eyes gleamed
with a sudden intensity when he saw me standing behind
Lannan.
“Her blood—the Oracle
remembers the smell of her blood.” His tongue darted in and out of
pasty thin lips, and with one bony finger he reached out, pointing
at me, his hand shaking. “Give Crawl her blood. Sweet and thick in
the mouth. Quickly, son of the Oracle, cut the flesh and make
offering!”
Lannan grabbed my
wrist and gave me a look that froze any objections I might have
had. Regina had used my own blade to cut me, but Lannan just held
out his fingernail and ripped a gash in my forearm, then motioned
for Crawl to move back.
Crawl stared at the
blood dripping down my arm, his dark eyes gleaming. Before Lannan
or I could move, he stretched out one of his incredibly long arms
and grabbed me by the hair, pulling me up onto the platform with
him.
Lannan let out a
shriek and scrambled to catch me before Crawl could yank me up on
the dais, but he failed and I found myself lying beneath the
Oracle, staring up at him. I began to scream as his long nails dug
into my shoulder and he leaned over me like some giant praying
mantis, his head turning from side to side as he contemplated me
like a Happy Meal. I rolled, trying to get away, but he quickly
straddled me, holding me down.
Crap. I had to get
away because I knew that Crawl was about to take a big bite out of
me . . . or at least sink his fangs into me, and who knew where
those fangs had been? I struggled, pushing against him, but he was
incredibly strong, his thin arms anything but brittle. He leaned
in, his teeth chattering at me, eyes burning with
hunger.
“This one is dessert.
This one is sweet. This one makes the Oracle’s belly rumble. This
one is ambrosia. Lannan has done the Oracle well to bring such a
sweet treat.” Crawl smelled like decaying wood and mothballs, and I
beat against his shoulders.
“No, no! You can’t
drink from me!” I was frantic, even as I saw Lannan leap up on the
platform. “Lannan, help me! Please!”
Lannan gave me a
vague smirk, but he looked worried as he knelt beside the Oracle’s
side. “The Master perhaps remembers the rule of the Crimson Queen?
The one rule she extended to the Blood Oracle?”
Crawl leaned down and
trailed his tongue along my arm, sucking up the blood where Lannan
had cut me. The rasp of his licking felt like wriggling insects
against my skin. I let out a sob, wishing it were over, just
praying it would all go away, but the stench rising from the Blood
Oracle overwhelmed my senses and I just wanted to go poof and no longer exist. If this was what life was
going to be like from now on, could I handle it, even for the love
of Grieve?
“My sired child
should keep his comments to himself.” Crawl glanced back over his
shoulder at Lannan, hissing at him. “The Blood Oracle is hungry and
it’s been so long since he fed. Sweet flesh before him, a
temptation too hard to ignore.” And he turned back to me, opened
his mouth, and bit hard on my shoulder.
The pain was
blinding—heat and fire seeping into my body as his fangs sank deep
and he began to drink from me. The sensation of the blood leaving
my body made me queasy. This was not like when Grieve drank from
me, or even when Lannan had fed on me. The blood flowed like a
river, and Crawl was reveling in my life force. I closed my eyes,
willing myself to fight, but the pain became all there was—a
white-hot haze of fire blurring my vision.
Everything retreated
to a distance and I found myself staring down a long tunnel, and
there, at the end, was Lannan, holding his arms out to me as he
called my name. I turned but could not move.
My wolf moaned, then
let out a long howl, and I reached to comfort it but there was no
comfort there—only a gash ripping the space between my love and me.
I sought Grieve out on the slipstream, calling to him.
Grieve, Grieve . . . where are you? Why aren’t you here to
help me?
And there he was—but
he was at the end of a long narrow ravine, running toward me,
though I could tell he couldn’t see me. He was screaming my name,
looking for me, and I couldn’t break through the fog that rolled
along the snow, for everything was icy and pure and brilliant. I
tried to run to him. All I wanted to do was to be safe in his arms,
to let him enfold me and protect me from the energy that was
sucking the blood from my body drop by drop.
Cicely! Where are you? I can’t find
you!
I’m here, Grieve! Grieve, can you hear me? But he
couldn’t, and defeated, he turned into his wolf and began to race
toward the wood, howling and snarling.
No, Grieve! Please, come to me. Come back to
me.
But it was dark and
the moon was rising over the snowladen forest, and he was
gone.
“Cicely! Come back.
Come back to me, Cicely!” And then Lannan appeared again, at the
end of the tunnel, and I turned and began to journey the long
distance toward him. As I drew near, he shoved me behind him and I
stumbled into darkness as his voice thundered through the void and
the tunnel began to recede.
“By the power of the
Crimson Queen, you have no right to feed!” Lannan’s voice echoed
with an authority that shook the walls.
Crawl let out a
shriek. “You dare to command your sire? I am
Master. I am the Blood Oracle! And you, who are you to order
me off my feed? You are not your sister, impudent whelp. I should
never have sired you. I should have killed you where you stood. You
are weak; you like the magic-born and human too much. They are
cattle.”
But even as he spoke,
Crawl began to loosen his grip on me and I opened my eyes, feeling
weak. I glanced at Lannan for a clue, and he shook his head,
motioning for me to stay still. I obeyed.
“Old Father, I beg of
you, remember the treaty. Remember the rules of the Crimson Queen.
Remember what you are and how you became that way.” Lannan held out
his hands in supplication.
Crawl stopped,
breathing heavily, then squatted back on his heels. He stared into
my eyes, as I lay there, panting, bleeding. No compassion, no mercy
would ever cross that face again—if indeed, it ever had—but I
suddenly realized that I was staring back at him: So not a good
thing. In that moment, I felt my father’s blood rise up and I
latched onto my owl and imagined myself flying, free and beautiful
and aloft. And in that moment, Crawl retreated to his cushioned
throne and Lannan cautiously lifted me off the platform and
retreated a safe distance.
He looked at me,
forced me to meet his eyes, and then without another word, turned
and began to walk down the path leading to the
archway.
Crawl’s voice echoed
behind us. “Son of the Blood Oracle, listen well to these words.
You set yourself up for a downfall if you care too much about these
mortal beings. Let your desire be for blood, not for the body, or
you will find yourself an outcast.”
Lannan said nothing,
not even as Crawl began to laugh.
“Then, young fiend,
if you will not take advice from your elders, listen to this. The
Blood Oracle knows your questions before you even speak, even
though you were not one of his favorites.”
Lannan stopped,
holding me, listening but not turning.
“I read her memories
as I sucked her veins. Myst has one thorn, one vulnerability: her
anger at the girl. Betrayal has become her enemy and offset her
vision. Use the girl as bait, set mother against daughter. Geoffrey
will know what to do. Or bring her to this temple and the Blood
Oracle will feed and turn her. Either way, the war has begun. There
are too many variables yet to predict the outcome. But blood shall
run, like a river to the ocean.”
And then, after a
pause, Lannan started walking again, and we exited the room. I
passed out the minute we began to shift back into the crystal
chamber and woke up to find myself on a sofa in Geoffrey’s office
with Lannan kneeling beside me. Everything was spinning and I felt
like I was half out of my body.
“What . . . I’m so .
. .”
“You’re weak. I know.
Don’t try to talk.” Lannan seemed almost tender, but I didn’t trust
that look. “Here, you’ve lost a lot of blood. We have to treat you
or you risk passing into the shadow, and becoming one of Crawl’s
shadows is not something you should ever wish.”
I blinked. “What? I
don’t understand . . .”
Lannan held his wrist
up and with one long nail slit it expertly. A drizzle of blood
formed on it. “You must drink,” he whispered. “My blood will
strengthen you, keep you from passing into the veil. And you do not
want to go into the veil, my Cicely. No matter what you think of
me, it’s a thousand times worse there.”
I didn’t know what he
was talking about and tried to push his wrist away from my lips,
but I couldn’t move my arms and then I realized I was
paralyzed.
“I can’t
move—!”
“I know, but the
paralysis will stop if you drink. You are under Crawl’s thrall now;
he has a hold on you and only by drinking my blood can you break
the charm. If you were to die now, you’d come back as a shadow tied
to the Blood Oracle.”
“I don’t want to be a
vampire . . .” I began to whimper. “Just let me die . .
.”
“No—if you die you
will be far worse than a vampire. And you will not become one of
the Vampiric Fae . . . not at this point. I am not trying to turn
you. My blood will strengthen you. So for fuck’s sake, just drink it, woman.” He slammed his wrist against
my mouth and I had no choice; the scent of the blood was suddenly
tantalizing and I sucked eagerly, feeling the warmth slide through
me, race through my body in a sensuous trail of
droplets.
The heat started in
my feet first, my toes suddenly awake and aware, and trailed up my
legs, leaving a luxurious feeling like I’d just woken up after a
long, long nap. I ached, but it was a hungry ache, and as the heat
reached my pelvis, all I could think about was fucking. I was so
horny that I thought I was going to scream, and I shifted slightly
as the heat traveled still farther, to my breasts and arms, and
finally through my head. Letting out a low moan, I pushed myself up
on my elbows.
Lannan was kneeling
there, looking radiant and gorgeous, and his hair was the color of
spun gold. I reached out and played with the strands, suddenly no
longer afraid of him.
“You have the most
glorious hair,” I whispered, wondering why I’d resisted him for so
long.
He tensed, like a
coiled cobra waiting to strike. “Cicely . . . don’t tempt me. I
won’t hold back.”
I could hear the rush
of blood through my body. Everything around me seemed enhanced to
the point of ultraclarity, and every breath of air on my body was
like a sensual caress. I sucked in a deep breath, reveling in the
feeling of breath in my lungs. My thoughts were a blur, but I knew
that I was hungry and that I wanted the touch of a man on my
body.
My wolf began to
growl, but I ignored it. Grieve couldn’t find me. Grieve couldn’t
save me. Grieve was lost in the woodland and I couldn’t do anything
to help him. Not now. Not until I found a way to defeat
Myst.
Lannan’s smile grew
dark and triumphant and he slid one hand up my thigh. I shifted as
the cold touch of his skin made me shiver. He laughed, low and
sultry, as he walked his fingers under my dress and toward my inner
thighs. I gasped and parted my legs as he tipped me back on the
sofa and moved against me, his weight making me catch my
breath.
“I’m going to fuck
you so hard you’ll forget anyone you’ve ever slept with before.
There will only be me, Cicely. I am your master, I am your lover, I
am your everything.” His lips nestled in the crook of my neck and I
felt his fangs trail along my skin. “I won’t drink from you
tonight—you’ve lost too much blood. But oh, the next tithe, I can
barely stand the thought of waiting.”
I let him slide
between my legs, thinking only with my body. The white heat burned
so strongly within it clouded every other thought except that of
being touched, being stroked, being nibbled on and teased and held
down by the weight of this glorious golden vampire as he fucked my
brains out.
He shifted and I
heard him working his zipper. “I’ve waited for this. Tell me you
want me. Tell me, Cicely. Say it.”
“I want you,” I
whispered, my hands running through that glorious hair, which was
as soft as it was golden. “I want you to put that gorgeous cock of
yours inside me and take me away from all the blood and death and
darkness, Lannan of the golden hair. My angel of darkness, make it
light for me.”
Lannan moaned, and
ripped at my dress, and I was suddenly naked. He began to circle
one nipple with his tongue and I let out a shriek, coming quickly
and sharply, but as soon as the orgasm hit me, another wave built
and I felt the heat curling up inside, a serpent forcing me ever
higher.
“Is this the way you
always feel? This desire?” I whispered to him.
He gazed down at me
and nodded. “Always, forever eternally. Some learn to corral their
feelings, but I choose to give them free rein. I do not deny my
nature.”
Gasping, I sought for
him, letting out a low cry as his icy-cold shaft plunged deep into
me, sliding up to the hilt. But even as he entered me, the door
slammed open and he quickly pulled away, hissing over his
shoulder.
“What are you doing
to her?” Rhiannon’s voice echoed through the room and, in a haze of
lust, I tore my gaze away from Lannan and stared over at her. Her
mouth was hanging open and I wanted to scream at her to get out, to
leave me alone, but then I saw Leo, and behind them Geoffrey and
Regina, and a thin trickle of common sense began to race through me
and I realized what the fuck I was doing.
“No . . . no . . .
what . . . Lannan, let me up.”
He slowly moved back,
smoldering, but I could sense unspoken communication between the
three vampires. I sat up and caught sight of myself in a mirror. I
was naked; my mouth was streaked with blood, as was my arm where
Lannan had cut me and Crawl had fed. My hair was wildly askew and I
was bruised and battered from where Crawl had slammed me to the
floor.
“No . . . oh no . .
.” I tried to stand up but fell, still weak and caught in the haze
of lust that Lannan’s blood had fed into me. “I need to go home . .
.”
Geoffrey motioned to
Leo. “Let me carry her. You cannot take her out there, reeking of
pheromones like she is. Every vampire in the house would descend on
her and ravage her. She’d be drained before you made it to the
door.” He motioned to Regina. “Go get the limo. I’ll bring them out
through the French doors. Lannan, you attend me to make sure no one
protests. We’ll discuss this later.”
Lannan nodded, giving
me a long look. He leaned close. “We’ll finish this later, Cicely.
Trust me, there’s no going back from here. I’ve had one taste of
you, and I will have the rest. I will forever be your angel of
darkness.”
I bit my lip as
Geoffrey wrapped me in a blanket, then silently carried me out
through the doors, with the others following. We swung around to an
empty part of the driveway and within seconds, a limousine had
pulled up. After he deposited me on the seat, Regina climbed in
beside me and motioned for Rhia and Leo to take the front
seat.
At my questioning
glance, she turned to me and said, “To make sure the driver minds
his manners.” And then, before another word could be said, the door
slammed shut and we were on the way home, and all I could think
about was how desperately I needed to release the fire burning
within.