Silver in the Blood (36 page)

“You had me drugged! I could have died! And so could Dacia, fighting with Mihai! And now she's killed him—you made a murderer of your own granddaughter!”

“I did nothing of the sort,” Lady Ioana snapped. “Dacia chose her own fate, just as you chose yours. We are Florescus, we have great power!”

“Which you have chosen to use for evil!”

“It is not evil to use one's power the way God intended it to be used!” The old woman clenched a gnarled fist in Lou's face, and Lou did her best not to flinch away. “Mihai could have made us great! Mihai would have risen to the highest heights, with our family surrounding him!”

“Well, he's dead now,” Lou shot back, ignoring the sickening lurch she felt in her stomach at saying it again. She wondered if it would ever be easier to think about Mihai . . . and Dacia . . .

“You have destroyed the future of this family, and our country,” Lady Ioana said. “If I could strip you of your powers, I would! You, Dacia, Radu, and all the Claw! They are traitors, and they will be made to pay!”

“You are an unnatural creature,” Lou sputtered. Lady Ioana began to sneer, but Lou cut her off. “Not because of your powers, but because of the blackness of your heart! Murderer!”

“I am a murderer, Dacia is a murderer, in your eyes we are all murderers,” Lady Ioana said in a taunting voice. “What does it matter anymore?”

“It matters,” Lou said. “It matters that you killed your own granddaughters! Mihai deserved to die, but did they?”

“They would have taken my power from me,” Lady Ioana said as though it were obvious. “They would have taken all that I have fought for! Katarina weakly let you live, and see how much destruction
you
have brought!”

“I haven't destroyed anything,” Lou protested.

“That is because you don't understand what really matters. Family. Power.”

“No, I—” Lou began to argue, but her grandmother cut her off.

“You little fool,” said Lady Ioana with disgust. “I am done with you!”

And she flung herself backward out of the tree. Lou screamed and stretched out a hand reflexively, but her grandmother changed into her bat form before she could be hurt, and flapped off. The others of the Wing, who had been circling the tree in consternation, flew after her, chittering in relief.

Lou tried to go after her, but couldn't find the strength. Flying at Lady Ioana's left wing was a bat who used to be Lou's mother. Lou could not bring herself to face her mama, not tonight. And what would happen if Lou did capture Lady Ioana? Would her grandmother be imprisoned? Executed? She was evil, but she was also a very old woman.

Lou couldn't be responsible for that. She was not like her grandmother.

Well, not like her Florescu grandmother, anyway.

With the last of her strength she became Smoke and
slithered out of the tree. She oozed back to the palace grounds and into Theo's coat, which he still cradled in his arms like a baby.

“Are you well, my houri?” His voice was tender, and Lou blushed.

“Did you catch that old bat?” Dacia licked her lips in anticipation, then grimaced as she tasted some of the blood that was still smeared across her face.

“I did,” Lou said. “She threatened us all, but there was nothing I could do . . .”

She felt foolish now, and weak. Lady Ioana was completely without scruples, and should have been stopped at all costs.

“Does she know that Mihai is dead?” Aunt Kate was wearing a soldier's coat with a darkly stained bullet hole in the left breast.

“Yes,” Lou said shortly.

“Well, there's that at least,” Kate said. “She'll want revenge for our betrayal, but at least she knows not to try and instigate another coup.”

“What shall we do now?” Lord Johnny looked around, chewing his lower lip. “The king and queen are safe, I think all of Mihai's men have been captured. We need to see to the bodies, and Mr. Carver—”

“Must we?” Dacia hunched her shoulders. She raised her sleeve and scrubbed at the blood on her face, wavering a little where she stood as though her legs weren't very steady.

“I know what to do,” Aunt Kate said, a touch ominously.

Dacia looked up. “No!”

“No, please!” Lou struggled down from Theo's arms, trying to make herself taller, but she'd been closer to her aunt's eye level when she was being carried. “Aunt Kate, I can't stand any more killing!”

“I am trying to show our family a better way,” Dacia said at the same time.

Aunt Kate looked at them in great astonishment. “Dacia! My dear Lou! You don't think . . . Good heavens! I have no intention of
killing
William Carver! I've known him since he was in short pants! You and Dacia should go to bed at once, there has been entirely too much excitement this evening!”

Lou stared at her aunt for a moment, and then she started laughing. It wasn't her usual laugh; no, it was the laugh of a madwoman. Staring at Aunt Kate, who was wearing a dead soldier's coat but still sounding exactly as she always did in the parlor at home in New York, Lou laughed and laughed.

She only got herself under control when Dacia started to sob.

 

FROM THE DESK OF MISS DACIA VREEHOLT

24 June 1897

Dear Mr. Carver,

I am quite distressed at your accusations, and little know how to reply.

However, I must say that your ludicrous stories about my family are hurtful in the extreme, and your insistence that we were involved in the murder of a Romanian aristocrat has had me prostrate with horror these past two days.

I can only hope that you seek help for these delusions. It is shocking to find a gentleman of your tender years so indulging in drink, and I hope that you can find the strength to stop before you come to grief. Far be it from me to harm anyone's reputation through malicious gossip, but if you persist in spreading these lies about my family, I will be forced to counter your slander with the true tale of how you were found, drunk and raving, in the gardens of Peles Castle last week!

I think it best if you and I have no further contact, save that which polite society demands of us.

With best wishes for your recovery,
Dacia Vreeholt

“Give it to me! Give it to meeeee!”

“It's mine!”

A book sailed past Dacia's ear as she sat at the little writing desk in the corner of the sitting room. It hit the wall and fell, cover askew, beside the letter she was just finishing. Without looking around, she picked up the book, straightened the crumpled pages, and then put it down at the edge of the desk before blotting her letter. She calmly addressed an envelope while the whining behind her became screaming, put the letter inside, sealed it, and rang for a footman.

“Please deliver this by hand,” she instructed the footman, raising her voice to be heard over the racket that her twin cousins were making. The footman took the envelope and fled with relief, and Dacia went to the doorway and called across the entrance hall to Radu, who was in the library with his father and Uncle Daniel.

“What is going on in here?” Radu said when he came in.
He looked in disbelief at Lou's younger brothers, who were scuffling on the floor for possession of a single, now very crushed and unappetizing, doughnut.

“Hold them down,” Dacia said.

Radu reached down and grabbed each of the twins by his collar, picking them up and pinning them to the sofa with one movement. Dacia went to the writing desk and got the book they had thrown and came back to face them.

“Be quiet and listen to me, both of you,” Dacia said, after getting their attention by smacking the book loudly into her palm.

“Why should we?” David looked at her sullenly.

“Because if you don't, I'll turn into a wolf and bite the both of you,” Dacia said in a low voice.

That silenced both of them. They had heard some very strange things since arriving in Bucharest with their father a few days before. First from eavesdropping on Lou and Dacia as they told Uncle Cyrus their story, then from having a disheveled Will Carver, still unwashed and reeking of whiskey, arrive on the doorstep to accuse Lou and Dacia of being murderers.

“You can't really—” began Adam, but Dacia interrupted him.

“Oh, can't I? Are you really willing to risk testing me?” She leaned over them, and they shrank back. “Your mother is gone, and I am sorry. I do not know if you will ever see her again. If you wish to cry for her, by all means cry for her, but the rest of your bad behavior stops today.

“There will be no more fighting, whining, screaming,
stealing, lying, or arguing. You will do your lessons quietly and stop playing pranks on your tutors. You will speak with respect at all times, and above all you will be kind to your sister.

“You are Neulanders,” Dacia reminded them, “from a very old New York family, and also Florescus, from an even older line. You will start acting like it. Today.”

“What if we don't want to?” Adam had his lower lip out so far a raven could have perched on it.

“Radu,” Dacia said.

Radu grinned. He leaned over the back of the sofa, so that the twins could see him grinning. As they watched in horror, his teeth became longer and longer, and his face stretched to accommodate them.

Dacia smiled. “Do I make my point?”

The twins looked back at Dacia, whose hands had shortened while her nails had grown increasingly long and hard. With apparent casualness, she scratched three long lines in the soft leather cover of the much-abused book. The boys nodded.

“Good. You may go.”

The twins fled from the room, and Lord Johnny came in, chuckling. Dacia quickly returned her hands to normal.

“That was brilliant,” he told her.

“Thank you,” Dacia said, putting the book down in embarrassment.

“Nice to see you,” Radu told the young lord. “I'll just be going . . . ?” He edged toward the door, shooting Dacia a wink.

“Actually, I need to speak to both of you. And to Lou,” Lord Johnny said.

“She's gone to lunch somewhere with Theo,” Dacia said, a little bubble of pleasure rising in her chest at the thought.

She was coming to terms a little more each day with her murder—execution—of Mihai and his men. Her nightmares did not cease, but she thought they might as time blurred the edges of the memory. She knew that it troubled Lou a great deal also, though her cousin seemed more concerned about the whereabouts of Lady Ioana, and her mother, of course. But Lou was blossoming under her newfound power, and also under the tender attentions of Theo Arkady, who had met with Lou's father's approval as well.

“Ah, he'll probably tell her, then,” said Lord Johnny. At Dacia's gesture, he seated himself on the sofa so lately occupied by the terrified Terrible Twins.

“Tell her what?” Dacia sank down on a chair opposite, steeling herself for more bad news.

Radu hovered between sofa and chair, clearly torn as to what to do. Radu had done a lot of hovering lately. He seemed relieved that the Wing were gone, and that the Claw had sworn fealty to King Carol, promising to plot no more against the rightful king. But even though his part in the treasonous attack had been unwilling, he still smelled of guilt at times.

“I have an offer for you, from my employer,” Lord Johnny said.

“Your . . . employer?”

“The head of our Society,” Lord Johnny clarified. “He would like to invite you . . . that is, you, Dacia, Radu, Lou, Miss Katarina, and any other Florescus who might be interested, to join us in our battle against people such as Mihai.”

There was a long silence.

“This represents a very bold move on the part of the Society,” Lord Johnny said, somewhat awkwardly. “This is the first time that persons who are known to have . . . natural power . . . have been offered a position with us.”

“Instead of just being hunted down?” Dacia said, but without any malice.

“Er, yes,” Johnny said, sheepish.

“Well,” Radu said finally. “I can speak only for myself, of course, but I'm certainly willing,” he said with a faint grimace that was belied by his pleased smell.

“Capital!” Lord Johnny stood up and shook hands with Radu.

“I'll go tell Aunt Kate,” Radu said, ducking out of the sitting room. “Maybe this will bring her out of her room.”

Their aunt had retreated to her room the morning after the Night Attack.

Mattias Dracula, though he had quarreled with his nephew and fled rather than take part in the battle, had surprised them all by retreating to a monastery in Bucovina for a period of reflection, stopping only briefly to bid Aunt Kate farewell. Aunt Kate had said nothing, merely gone to her room and shut the door.

Dacia was staring down at the pattern in the rug. Finally she looked up at Lord Johnny.

“I know what I have to offer you—your Society, that is,” she said bluntly. “But what do they offer me?”