A Vampire's Rise (17 page)

I missed Annabelle.

* * * *

With no time to grieve, I pushed the ache away.

No part of what I saw around me, or experienced now, reminded me of my old life. It had passed so quickly, and at no time had I considered that it would one day become a memory.

The carriage came to a stop.

Sunaria stroked my leg with a comforting gesture. “I’ll follow you.” She paid the driver several coins and we watched the horseman drive it away out of sight.

“Find us somewhere to sleep,” she commanded in that husky way of hers. “And it better not be a graveyard.”

The thought of having to find shelter and delay our visit made me wary, but we had no choice. I relented, agreeing that it was actually better to face Vigo with a clear head.

Sparrows burst into song, announcing the imminent daybreak.

With minutes before sunrise, I surveyed the well kept cemetery, trying to ignore Sunaria’s disapproval. The grand mausoleum was a slight improvement over the one we’d slept in the day before.

I read the inscription of who lay within: Thomas A. Haywood, aged 37, and rubbed away the dust to read the epitaph.

Sunaria yanked on my sleeve. “Now that’s creepy.”

I raised my eyebrows only to quickly lower them again when the idea of being buried alive came to mind. A soft bed beckoned, a luxury I’d once taken for granted. The next time I got to lie on sheets, I promised myself I’d savor every second.

Despite that, as we settled into the mausoleum, I drew comfort from lying with her. We fell asleep in each other’s arms. Nightmares came and went, providing a myriad of images, a restless sleep. I’d been fighting an invisible force, held in some continuously revolving bad dream.

I awoke with a jolt and found myself alone.

Sunaria had left my side without waking me. My breath left me and I was gripped with fear. I slid open the stone slab and climbed out.

Sunaria had reassured me that she’d placed Jacob with my sister.

What if she’d lied?

Outside, I turned around and around, trying to get my bearings. Leaves and twigs rustled as small creatures scurried away, and then voices carried. I followed them down a grassy bank. The gravestones were smaller here, many of them sunken and tilted.

Sunaria was in conversation with a young man dressed in a well-cut suit. I tried to hide my panic. Sunaria flirted with him, stirring my jealousy.

“What do you think?” She glanced at me.

“About what?” I kicked up yellow, dry leaves.

She gestured to the stranger and he approached me, conveying nervousness intermingled with excitement.

She smiled at him. “Arnold, isn’t he everything I told you he’d be?”

He nodded.

I cringed. “What?”

His smile dropped.

Sunaria threw her arms around him and he leaned into her and grinned.

My glare made him let go.

Sunaria pointed to Arnold again. “His clothes will fit me.”

“What are you talking about?” His mouth gaped.

Sunaria’s tongue traced her upper lip. “Thirsty?”

“I am a little, yes.” He glanced from her to me.

“Daumia?” Sunaria smiled.

I knew to refuse would displease her, but I hesitated. Despite my recent attack on the soldiers, this was wrong, cruel even. Trying to get my head around the situation, I sensed her growing impatience.

My gaze locked with his and he seemed to catch the subtle change in me, as I focused in on him, the mark of a hunter.

He bolted.

Sunaria’s hands rested on her hips. “Well?”

I shrugged.

She sent a pulse of anger my way.

I tracked Arnold through the graveyard and into the woods, and with a shove, I had him down and flipped him over. Sunaria ran her fingers through my hair and then her pressure increased, as she held me there.

Arnold struggled beneath me. A familiar rush as his blood tingled in my mouth. All became familiar and knowledge flowed as he drifted. I rocked, grateful for both the sustenance and the information. Tracing his steps through time, he unwittingly introduced me to people he’d known, adventures he’d taken, cities he’d visited, and the books he’d read.

Arnold the architect. Amongst the scattered designs within his mind, we settled upon one of the plans he’d drawn, followed the ink upon the page as it manifested into structure. I recognized these corridors, bedrooms, and staff rooms, and as we passed through the courtyard, I dug deeper, willing him to go on ahead as I lingered, taking my time in Felipe’s senatorial office.

Chapter 25

WE STOOD FIFTY FEET or so outside the senatorial residence. Sunaria had stripped our architect and now wore his clothes. Arnold’s jacket concealed her curves.

“Easier to get about.” Sunaria twisted her hair and poked it beneath her cap.

I’d dragged Arnold’s body into the mausoleum where we’d slept, petitioning Thomas A. Haywood, aged 37, to watch over him.

I tried to fathom how taking his life was so natural, like how I’d imagine an animal might feel after a kill, as though we were privileged to choose who lived and who died, gifted with the ability to be another’s undoing.

Or cursed.

Such a cruel trick for Sunaria to appear so alluring, so exquisitely bewitching, the moonlight reflecting off her dark locks, shimmering off her pale skin, lulling everyone, including me.

“After what Ricardo did to you,” she said, “you still want to rescue him?”

I studied the windows of the great house. “He had no idea what he was doing.”

“Still.”

“He’s my nephew.”

She pursed her lips. “Let’s deal with the senator first.”

“He’s my unfinished business.”

She squeezed my shoulder. “And now you have the layout in your head.”

I turned to her. “You think you’ll pass as a man?”

“I’ve done it before.”

Her attire convinced me, but her demeanor would have to change.

“I’m ready.” I nodded, trying to persuade myself that I was.

“Stick to the plan.”

That had sounded like an order. I questioned whether I could. Within moments, we landed on the senatorial roof. I peeked over the edge at the sheer drop, astounded that I’d just scaled a building. We pried open the loft door and entered.

“Felipe’s office, go,” she whispered.

I hesitated.

She frowned. “I’ll be fine.”

Stepping mindfully over the rafters, I proceeded ahead and quickly found the room, but when I turned to show Sunaria, she was gone.

She was going through with it.

Peering down, I had a good view of Felipe’s office, and saw him sitting at his desk, scribing away. With all my will, I resisted the urge to descend and strangle him.

The painting had been replaced by a smaller, less significant portrait. He must have panicked when he’d discovered me gone and his decimated Belshazzar’s Feast there.

Sunaria entered with a member of staff who introduced her to Felipe as a royal representative. With the shake of their hands, Felipe welcomed her. Sunaria’s voice was a tone deeper, her mannerisms masterfully imitating that of a man, an effeminate one at that.

Felipe bowed. “How is the king?”

“He sends his deepest regards.” Sunaria tilted her head in greeting.

I closed my gaping mouth.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of such an unexpected visit?” Felipe gestured to a chair. “My staff will prepare a room for you.”

“I won’t be staying.” She sat down. “This is the king’s time, therefore, I must be brief.”

“What brings you here?”

She frowned. “Propaganda is devised to mask the truth.”

“I quite agree.”

“The Church must keep its ministerial throne secure in these times of unrest.”

Felipe showed impatience. “Go on.”

“As you know, I have served the king for many years.”

This he didn’t know, but he hid it well.

“His highness,” she continued, “has chosen well . . .”

Felipe’s intrigue was palpable.

“In you,” she emphasized with a long stare.

Felipe nodded.

“Intelligence reports indicate that there is a plot against the throne.”

Felipe sat back.

“The king needs evidence.” Sunaria leaned forward. “Proof before he convicts the queen’s favorite courtier.”

“Does her majesty know?”

“He wishes to protect her, just in case the information is—”

“False?”

She smiled and loftily raised her chin.

“What is required of me?” Felipe asked.

“Travel to Palos—”

“When?”

“Now.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes. The queen’s ship is due to set sail.”

His brow furrowed. “The Santa María?”

“Yes.”

“But I—”

“At seven o’clock tomorrow night, you must be in The Captain’s Table Inn. Wait for further instructions.”

“I don’t think I can make the port, even if I leave right this minute.”

“What shall I tell the king?” Sunaria rose.

Felipe flinched. “There must be some mistake.”

“This is your message to his majesty?”

Felipe’s stare searched the room. “Tell his highness that my utmost discretion is assured.”

She gave a deep bow. “The throne expects nothing less.”

* * * *

“You think he fell for that?” I kept my voice low.

“Yes.”

“It can’t be that easy.”

She grasped my chin with long fingers, and then she softened, tracing my cheek gently.

I avoided her insistent stare. “I think it’s this way. I hate being back here.”

“I can only imagine.”

Within minutes, we’d found the nursery. With ease of step, I followed Sunaria in. Six-year-old Ricardo slept in a corner bed and appeared well cared for. In the other corner, his nanny snored lightly, a young girl of twenty years or so. On the floor, near the foot of Ricardo’s bed, lay a wooden, broken soldier splayed out. Someone had tried to rip its head off. Ricardo’s penchant for violence left no object safe.

Sunaria nudged me toward him and, with one hand over his mouth, I picked him up, and he squirmed and bit me.

The nanny stirred.

“Go,” Sunaria whispered.

With Ricardo in my arms, I flew out of the window and landed on the lawn behind the far wall and knelt beside him, trying to calm his wails. My hand pressed against his mouth. “I’m taking you to your mother.”

He calmed a little.

I eased my hand off, ready to ram it back if needed.

“Mama’s dead,” Ricardo sobbed.

“Why do you say that?”

“Papa told me.”

“Well, she’s not. She asked me to bring you to her.”

Ricardo made me unbearably uncomfortable. If it weren’t for the fact I adored my sister, I’d have shoved him back into the house. Sunaria came up behind us several minutes later.

There was immediate relief to see her. “What happened?”

“The nanny won’t remember,” she whispered. “I gave her a ‘little drink.’”

After a brief pause, I said, “What?”

Sunaria stared down at Ricardo. From her expression, she didn’t like the boy, either.

“Can nanny come?” Ricardo asked.

Sunaria sighed. “Nanny’s too busy writhing in ecstasy.”

I tapped Sunaria’s arm in disapproval.

By the way Ricardo clutched my hand, Sunaria had scared him. Hoofs clopped along a gravel pathway. We sidled along the wall until we reached the front of the manor.

Sunaria peeked around. “Felipe’s getting in.”

Despite the fact that Ricardo’s teeth gnawed into my hand, I smiled.

* * * *

Aware that Ricardo would soon be in his mother’s arms and out of mine, inspired more speed. The thought of seeing Jacob consumed my thoughts.

We reached the Ocean View Manor by ten in the evening. It was a perfect sanctuary. Sunaria had memorized Miranda’s instructions on how to reach their residence. We arranged to meet afterward, just before sunrise, as Sunaria being with me would invoke even more questions. A cross-examination I wasn’t prepared for. Despite having covered Ricardo’s eyes, the events of the night, which included throwing myself out the window with him in my arms, would have to be explained away if he brought it up.

We passed through an avenue of tall cedars that led to the front of the house. Sunaria rose on her toes and planted a kiss upon my cheek. She knew what lay ahead for me and, through her gesture, assured her support.

Ricardo remained uncharacteristically quiet, not surprising considering the last two hours we’d spent flying through the air at great speed. I’d held him toward me, his face tucked into my jacket to protect him from the wind chill, and the remarkable view.