Night Myst (17 page)

He tilted his head and smiled, fangs lowering. I felt myself falling, falling deep, falling wide, falling like I’d fallen into Grieve’s embrace but this was different, there was no sense of connection other than the slender thread of unspoken communication that was passing between us.

I felt myself moving toward him, toward that beautiful, rich voice that echoed in my thoughts. I wanted to go, to find out what he was promising.

Leo grabbed my arm even as a tiny voice inside shrieked,
Don’t look in his eyes . . . don’t listen too deeply to his voice . . . don’t let him smell your fear . . .

Regina laughed. “I see you respond to my brother’s charms. Most women do. Lannan, this is Cicely Waters. Cicely—my brother. Now, onto our proposition: We know of your connection to the Fae named Grieve. He’s a member of the Indigo Court.”

I struggled to keep my voice neutral, but inside, I jumped. The vamps held no love for the Indigo Court, so I wasn’t surprised they were aware of Grieve’s presence. What did surprise me was that they knew about Grieve and me. But I couldn’t let them think they’d thrown me for a loop.

“And . . . ?”

“All we want is for you to continue what you’re doing. Keep an eye on him. Infiltrate his world, and apprise us of all you see and hear. Before you say no, consider this: We know you understand the nature of the Indigo Court . . . the history of what they are, and how they got that way. There will be no playing off sides here. You will be
our
agent.” Her eyes, like steel marbles, glistened in the dim light.

“Why me?”

“The Queen has her reasons. If you choose to work for us, you will receive a handsome monetary recompense and other . . . shall we say,
perks
? And you will be under our protection. But if you refuse to volunteer your help . . . we’ll be forced to think of other ways in which to ensure your
cooperation
.” Her voice dropped and I gazed into her face again. The primal fierceness in her gaze sent me reeling back into my chair.

“So, I either cooperate or . . .”

“Or we’ll find less generous methods of engaging your services.” Regina leaned down and planted a kiss on my forehead, her lipstick forming a burning pout on my skin. I wanted to wipe it off but she might consider that an insult.

“Can I think it over tonight and give you an answer tomorrow?” Stall for time, any time. I hadn’t expected to be offered a job, and one that came with such steep ramifications.

“No. We have to know your answer now. Will you help us?”

I stared at her, feeling trapped. Either I helped, or they’d punish me. And perhaps my friends. “Why do you want me to do this? I have the right to know.”

Lannan spoke, laughing gently through his words. “Let’s take her to see Crawl. He might convince her.” He looked too eager, and I wanted to scrunch away, out of sight, unnoticed.

Regina gave him a hard glance. “Crawl? Are you joking?”

“No. Take her to Crawl. He’s hard to resist.”

Geoffrey shifted, looking uncomfortable, but he held his tongue and a look passed between him and Leo. Leo hung his head, even though Rhiannon was not-so-gently poking his arm.

“Perhaps you are right.” Regina motioned to me. “But I’ll be the one to take her. Between you and the Blood Oracle, there’d be nothing left of the girl to help us.” She slid her arm around my shoulder and led me over to a bookshelf.

“Wait—where are you taking her?” Rhiannon called behind me.

“Patience, firecracker,” Lannan said behind me. “You and Leo stay here. Have a drink with me. My sister will keep your cousin safe. As long as she behaves herself.”

Regina pressed a book on the bookshelf—I didn’t notice which one, and it slid open, silently, to reveal a dark passage. I followed her in, knowing that I had no choice. I’d left choice behind when I walked through the front door.

“I would not do this,” she said once it closed, “but my brother makes a point. This will perhaps convince you more than what we have to say.”

“What’s the Blood Oracle?” Better forewarned than be taken by surprise.

“Better to ask
who
.” She blinked. “The Blood Oracle is the seer of the Crimson Court. He’s held his office for two thousand years. His name is Crawl, but never address him directly. You must ask all questions through me. He will no longer speak to mortals, be they magic-born or human.”

We passed into a dark room. A table sat in the center, illuminated by a single bulb from the ceiling, and on the octagonal-shaped table rested a crystal, hovering above a clear crimson slab of glass that softly glowed. The feel of magic hung heavy in the room and crawled up my arms like scuttling needles, prickling my nerves. This was heavy magic, old magic. Dark and ominous. The rest of the room was cloaked in inky shadows and I had the feeling that to step outside of the dim illumination would be to put my life in danger.

I started to ask what it was, then stopped. Regina was staring intently at the crystal, her fingers hovering above it, and I didn’t want to interrupt her train of thought because I could feel how deep she was sliding. I folded my arms, suddenly cold and dizzy. The magic churned like waves cresting over a boat, and the room started to spin. Regina reached out and grabbed me by the wrist, and the next thing I knew, everything had gone black in a massive rush of wind.

The scent of a thousand years raced by, turning back the calendar month by dusty month. Smog and dust and the smoke from a million fires gusted past. Voices—cries lost in the depths of time, whispers from old ghosts wandering past, and the howling of wolves rocked the wind.

My wolf let out a whimper, waking as he stretched to learn what was going on. I tried to comfort him—for I knew it was Grieve feeling my fear, sensing my tailspin, but he snarled as I brushed my hand over my stomach.

A cacophony of sound assaulted my ears and I tried to pull away from Regina, to cover my ears, but then all fell silent.

We stood in a softly lit room. The chamber was huge, with a table in the center identical to the one back at the mansion, crystal and all. The same hum of energy rang through the gem and I tried to memorize exactly what it looked like so I could figure out what it was later.

The chamber we were in stretched farther than I could see, and the ceiling was a good thirty feet high. The walls were covered with a crimson paper, and the light came from some hidden source. Benches lined the walls, and the floor was covered with magical symbols. Heavy magic rolled like mist around my ankles, making my skin twitch. Whatever had been done here had upset the balance and created a force greater than just about anything I’d ever felt.

Regina touched my shoulder. “Come. Stay on the walkway.”

She began to move toward what appeared to be the back of the chamber and I followed, wondering where the hell we were going. We walked along a narrow path of Tuscan gold, bounded by thick black lines on either side. There were no symbols on the tiles and, as we made our way up the walk, I began to realize that if I stepped off the path I’d land on one of the sigils. The runes were active and aware—there was no telling just what sort of spell I’d set off.

As we came to the end of the chamber, a dais rose a good five feet off the floor and Regina lithely glided up and on it. She stopped, turning back to me, and leaned over, extending her hand. I reached up to grasp her fingers and, with barely a murmur, she yanked me up and onto the dais. Blinking at her strength, I waited for her to make the next move.

The curtains covering the back of the dais parted.

“What the fuck . . .” I caught myself before I said anything I’d regret.

Regina gave me a sharp look and I nodded, understanding her meaning.
Shut the fuck up and do what I tell you.

There, sitting in front of us, sat a bent and twisted creature. Maybe he’d been human.
Once.
It was hard to tell. He sat on a cushion raised a good five feet above the dais, hunched over, his skin blackened from what looked like old, leathery burns—charred and long dried. His hair had devolved into ratted clumps, dreadlocks of the worst kind, and his eyes were glassy, unfettered by eyelids, which seemed to have been burnt away. He wore nothing but a crimson loincloth, and his ribs protruded so strongly that he looked like a stick figure or a praying mantis.

In front of him, a fountain of blood bubbled merrily, ringed by perpetual flames that neither wavered nor changed in intensity. They burned brightly, and the blood in the center smelled warm and sticky and fresh.

Regina stepped up to a pillow on the floor next to the fountain and knelt, her head down. “Great Father of the Sight, I come seeking your wisdom. Crawl, Blood Oracle of the Crimson Court, I seek your vision.”

He let out a laughter that sounded like the wind whistling through dried corn husks and I smelled decay and dust and the scent of the tomb. “Regina, Crawl’s favorite. The Blood Oracle recognizes you. Stand and ask, lovely bloody daughter, and offer payment for the Oracle’s services.”

She rose, her skirt brushing the ground. She was wearing a crimson leather bustier and a long black chiffon skirt. Now, she brushed back the skirt where it slit up one side to the thigh and pulled out a golden dagger. She turned toward me and motioned me forward.

“Wait—you aren’t going to open my vein with that.” I’d keep quiet as long as I thought I was relatively safe but this whole scenario wasn’t quite what I’d expected, and things were looking worse the deeper into the night we went.

“You will make a small donation for his service. And you will do so without complaint. Do you understand?” She leaned close and her lips brushed my lips, soft and silken and utterly inviting. I sucked in a deep breath and her tongue slid inside my mouth for just a moment—just long enough to wake my hunger. I tried to pull away but found myself firmly wrapped in her arms.

“Do as I say,” she whispered in my ear. “If you resist, he will come off that throne of his and eat you down to the bones. Crawl is older than almost every vampire alive and you’d do best to appease him with a measly quarter cup of your blood. I’m trying to save your life here.”

Her voice cut through the sudden haze of lust that her kiss had sparked off and, shaking, I nodded. She backed away and held up the dagger. “Give me your hand, child.”

I held out my hand, trembling, praying to whatever god might be listening that she wasn’t going to turn on me and slice me to ribbons for a feeding frenzy. She poised the blade above my palm and with one quick motion sliced through the pad near my thumb. The blade was ultra-sharp and a thin weal of blood rose up.

Crawl leaned forward, his eyes gleaming as he watched the blood seep out of my flesh. Convinced I’d been insane to allow her to bring me here, I tried to control my fear. Regina dragged me to the fountain and waved her hand over two of the flames, which died down immediately. She held my hand over the bubbling blood so my own dribbled into it. After about a quarter cup had been spilt, she gently pulled me back and leaned down, licking my hand clean. As it began to heal remarkably fast, a shudder ran through her and for yet another moment I worried about her self-control, but she let out a long breath and stood again.

The flames around the fountain rose once more and she turned to Crawl. “The payment has been made. Now tell me what I need to know.”

Crawl scuttled forward, reminding me of a spider or a long-jointed crab, and leered at me. “She is the one. Tell her that you are correct. She will bring about the war and start the road to our reclamation. You’ve done well, lovely daughter.”

I wanted to pull back, to turn tail and run because Crawl was giving me the creeps big-time and it seemed only a matter of time before he lunged for me and I’d be dead as a bug on the windshield.
Splat.