Bound by the Vampire Queen (37 page)

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Authors: Joey W. Hill

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Fiction

BOOK: Bound by the Vampire Queen
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“Being part of the vampire world for centuries has been good preparation for the challenges of the Fae one, Your Majesty. We do not regret our visit.”

“Well spoken.” As he looked toward the portal, Jacob noticed that Keldwyn stood somewhat apart from the three retainers closest to the king. One was a silent woman with skin black as onyx and topaz blue eyes. In black tight breeks and vest, armed with a variety of blades, she had the look of both bodyguard and assassin. The other two were armed, but they had the demeanor of friends, those who’d been the king’s comrade-in-arms in the past, and served as advisors in peacetime.

Like Rhoswen, the king appeared more than capable of protecting himself. But Jacob knew the guard for a capable leader was often there as a buffer, to give him time to rally if there was a surprise attack. His Aussie friend and fell ow servant, Dev, had said as much once about his Mistress, the Lady Daniela. If his skill gave her a few extra seconds to survive before he was taken off the grid, then he’d done his duty. Jacob didn’t disagree, and for that reason felt an affinity for those in the same role. Even when they treated him like a distasteful bug under a microscope, like Cayden or the ebony woman now.

Nearly a third of the Unseelie train had disappeared through the portal. As they passed, the green lightning crackled, and waves of magical energy wafted down the hill in heated winds. The slope on which they waited looked across at all four castles. Though Jacob had heard there’d be major light shows later in the evening, when the Hunt and Haunt returned, there were minor explosions of fireworks going on now, practice runs of aerial shows by different groups of the flighted Fae, everything from traditional fairies to dragons, griffins and others.

“It’s a display worth seeing,” Tabor commented.

“There is no night quite as special to us as Samhain.”

“I thought Beltane would be more significant,” Lyssa responded, with a slight smile. “The celebration of life and fertility. Growth.”

“Insightful. It’s perhaps like comparing Christmas to Easter in your world. One is for celebration; one is for remembrance. And though celebration is needed, remembrance is vital.” He gave her that intent scrutiny again.

“You have his eyes,” he said, his voice lowering.

“And I do not mean the color. There was something… fathomless in Lord Reghan’s eyes.

For a Fae, that is saying something. He was unique in our world, so it comes as no surprise that you are as well.”

Keldwyn shifted on his horse, ostensibly to look at the fireworks. Because of the play of dark and light, Jacob thought he saw sadness in the male’s eyes.

Then it was gone.

“Not so much to the untrained senses, but to the ancients, like myself, Seelie and Unseelie abilities are very distinct,” Tabor continued. “With one breath, I can tell if you are Seelie or Unseelie. Like him, you are both, a rare thing. But you are even more, because your Fae form suggests the Solitary folk, our Fae who are not of the high court. You bring all of them together, an unclassifiable and therefore unknown quantity.”

The ebony woman shifted closer to Tabor’s side, the way Cayden had done when Rhoswen had to introduce Lyssa as Reghan’s daughter. However, this time it was Tabor who offered reassurance in his glance, the nod of his head. Then he looked back at Lyssa, his attention sharpening upon her.

“Your power is strong, wild. Your years of discipline as a vampire queen have given you an instinctive rein on it, even without training, but the savage side of that blood will unleash it in defense of those you care about. He, too, had that quality.”

“So why did you sentence him to death?” Lyssa asked evenly.

The ebony woman’s face hardened. A percussion wave of energy pushed over them, an unpleasantly claustrophobic feeling.

“Dahlia, enough.” Tabor said. When Dahlia shifted irritably on her horse, the feeling eased back.

“Aidan, Leigh, leave us. All of you,” he added, looking pointedly at Dahlia. “I would speak to Lady Lyssa alone.”

There was a brief silence, a battle of will's. The king scowled at Dahlia. She jerked her horse’s head around, followed by the two males. Though high court Fae weren’t inclined to open mirth, Jacob noticed the men had something close to grins playing around their mouths, as if they would tease her about her overprotective nature.

The king sighed. “He was executed because our species is not exempt from being reactionary, particularly when our world is in an uncertain state.

Your father’s actions—cleaving to a vampire, getting her with child—came at a time when things were going badly between the Fae and human world.

Superstition was closing in. Many unpleasant incidents occurred…”

Tabor closed his eyes, shook his head.


Unpleasant
. The wrong word for so many horrific acts. Only the distance of centuries would permit it, to make those times sound even more distant, when we all know an act of barbarism is usually as close as the nearest fear, whatever that fear may be. It is not an excuse, because I was hardly more enlightened at that time, but I will tell you I was not king then. My brother was.”

Peripherally, Jacob was aware of the procession of Unseelie continuing to file through the portal, the murmur of conversation and movement along the Seelie train, but like his lady, his attention was captured by the king’s words, the import of them and his steady glance. “I can tell you that many of the years where we shut ourselves off from your world have been violent, terrible ones. For all of us. It is why I cannot always blame Rhoswen for the way she feels about things. Killing a brother is a terrible thing”—shadows crossed his visage—“but to kill a mother is to kill the root of your self. Though it has been several centuries since it occurred, it is a wound that perhaps never heals.”

He glanced at the ebony-skinned woman, whose horse stood apart from the others as she continued to stare fixedly at him, even from a distance. “As you can tell, Dahlia is my version of your vampire.

Though the other two are my men-at-arms, my personal guard, she is my true protection, an incomparable sorceress as well as a good friend.

She is, however, singular in her defense of me, brooking no disobedience or insolence from anyone.” He smiled faintly. “It’s perhaps good that I am king and not her, for your question was a fair one. You deserve an answer, after so many years.” He shrugged. “Each year we celebrate Samhain in this way. We go to places where there is still belief, where there is less technology and the agriculture practiced is still the way of the earth. And sometimes, in the reflection of those who catch a glimpse of us that night, I still see who and what we were when we were allies, human and Fae.” There was a squeal, a thunderous clatter. Firewind shifted restlessly, but as Jacob steadied him, he saw the Unseelie ranks part for a male in a chariot. His team of frothing, blood-colored horses barreled toward the portal. Thick mist followed in his wake, but then Jacob saw it wasn’t mist at all, but a cavalcade of twisting wraith spirits, with dark eyes and skeletal faces. The chariot wheels were pale flame, and rattled with a dragging train of human bones. He sincerely hoped it was an embellishment from the pavilions. The chariot plunged through the portal, its passage illuminated with a bill ow of white light and blood colored smoke, as well as an extra explosion of fireworks above it. Appreciative cries erupted at the display.

Tabor shook his head. “Gwyn ap Nudd, as the Welsh cal him. The king of the Underworld. He goes to collect the souls due to the afterlife this night. As frightening as it looks, it’s actually an honor to die on Samhain. The Veil is thin. It’s a good night to pass, with many helping hands to take a new soul through the gate. The ride in the chariot will take the souls through the seven levels of Heaven and many other remarkable places before the night is done.” A group of harpies flew through then. Not to be outdone by their flamboyant predecessor, they conducted an impressive midair choreography before the portal. It reminded Lyssa of a parade, with Rhoswen as the parade master. She stood by the portal entrance, evaluating each group’s ability to strike terror into human hearts.

Following her gaze, Tabor nodded. “To know about your father, you need to know about the women in his life. Rhoswen’s mother was young, opportunistic, spoiled and ultimately corrupt.

Because of her youth, and because there was in fact something quite unique about her—a shining gem, much like her daughter, though with much less heart

—she was able to turn his head for a short time.

Long enough to get with child, which of course does not take very long. But she couldn’t disguise her true nature, and he would not cleave to her. He did acknowledge the child, cared for her with a true fondness.”

“He loved her.” Lyssa stared at Tabor.

“Most decidedly. He was a very big part of Rhoswen’s life until…” Tabor shook his head. “It enraged Magwel that he would not give her the regard he gave the daughter she bore him, so she thwarted him from seeing Rhoswen. I suspect she poisoned Rhoswen’s mind against him as well, making her believe that he didn’t care for her, even though he continued to try and reach out to her. In later years, I was able to reveal this to Rhoswen, but by then, your mother had happened, and it became more complicated.”

Lyssa shifted against Jacob’s body, her eyes darkening as she remembered Rhoswen’s bitter words.
Children are like acorns. Some are left to rot…

“When he fell in love with your mother, it was not a love we as Fae could understand. But I have eyes, and I knew it was true. Rhoswen’s mother was close to the Unseelie queen. It took time, but eventually the unthinkable was done. Your father, one of our strongest, was sentenced to death.

“He could have fought my brother and the others who spoke against him, and the loss of life would have been grievous, because the Fae courts were very divided on the issue. However, he agreed to accept the sentence if my brother agreed the Fae court would not seek retaliation against his vampire mate. The Seelie court abided by that. The Unseelie didn’t. I do not hold the Seelie court blameless, however, because my brother did nothing to stop the Unseelie court. He felt that our honoring the agreement was all that was required. Even though he was lovers with the woman who sent the assassins. Rhoswen’s mother.”

Earlier, she’d told Jacob that something that happened a thousand years ago shouldn’t have such a hold on her now. Yet getting the answers she’d always lacked was more overwhelming than she’d expected. Tabor had paused, was studying her face.

Jacob’s mind touched her in warm reassurance as he picked up on her uncertain spiral of emotions.

“My apologies, Lady Lyssa. I did not adequately prepare you for the import of what I intended to tell you. I felt it was significant to meet you tonight, to tell you these things on the night of endings and beginnings. However, perhaps I set too much store by symbolism. We can wait until—”

“No.” Lyssa shook her head firmly. “There may not be another time, Your Majesty. I welcome anything you can say that might help me understand the confusion of my childhood.”

“No child should have to deal with what you and your mother faced. Fortunately, the vampire world resorted to the talents of a mortal sorcerer to stop the assassination attempts. Unfortunately, on this side of things, it was not over so quickly. I could no longer in good conscience support my brothers, so our world divided into factions. We suffered through on-and-off armed conflicts, no sense of cohesion, for centuries. When I kill ed both of my brothers in battle, Rhoswen’s mother, now Unseelie Queen, became my bitter enemy, and things became far worse. Until Rhoswen took her mother’s life and called for a truce.”

He looked back at the portal as a group of sinuous women, dressed in elaborate wrapped cloths, like Indian women in saris, proceeded toward it. One transformed while they watched, her brown skin becoming overlapped with scales, her eyes large and unblinking with the slitted pupils of a snake.

Flicking a long, forked tongue at the other women, she amused them as her legs disappeared and were replaced instead by a long snake’s tail that propel ed her even more quickly to the portal. They shifted to catch up, laughing as they did so.

Lamias,
Jacob supplied.
It’s said they trap faithless men in their coils with seduction and then strangle them to death.

Well, they seem in a cheerful mood for it.
Lyssa closed her eyes. Hearing what Rhoswen had done to end the civil war in her country, she’d found a common link, an empathy she wasn’t sure she wanted.

“There’s much I do not know about the relationship between Rhoswen and her mother,” Tabor said, “or what made her decide to do it, after she’d stood behind her through so many battles. However, after the truce, Lady Rhoswen mourned in seclusion for five years, during which Keldwyn stood as her regent. When she came back, he stepped aside and became liaison for both courts.”

His mouth tightened. “Since, as you say, we may not have an opportunity like this again, I will say the most important thing. I owe a debt to your father.

Though Queen Rhoswen and I act as equals on most things, I have the power to overrule her court decisions. It is a power I try to use rarely, because I understand the danger of undermining her authority, given the beings that reside in her portion of our world. Do you understand?”

He held her gaze a long moment, until she nodded. “I do.”

“Good.” He shifted his attention back to the portal.

“She is a mixture of contradictions, the worst of her mother and the best of her father always warring within her. Her Fae respect her, but she won’t let them love her. Being barren does not help matters, for we have never had a barren Unseelie queen. Her mother cursed her with barrenness when Rhoswen kill ed her.”

Reghan has another daughter. A daughter with a child…

Some wounds couldn’t heal, even over a thousand years. Particularly when every day was a reminder of the past.

A troop of hobgoblins marched through the gate, naked, short and long-limbed, bearing an array of noisemakers that created a din that vibrated through the ground as they tested them out. Rhoswen managed an approving look, though Lyssa imagined she wanted to rub her temples to stave off the headache they were probably seeding. Though they didn’t need masks to be scary to human perception, many had purchased from the vendor Lyssa remembered anyway.

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