Incarnation (38 page)

I was seeing far too much in his quick, sidelong glance and the smile that did not reach his eyes. He could not possibly know what had happened in the bedroom of the Golden Dawn, nor was it any of his affair.

That such dissension should rule even in so dark an hour when the fate of both species hung in the balance angered me deeply. Mordred must have sensed my thoughts. Softly, he said, “It can be different someday, Lucy, but first we have to win.”

He was right, of course, though I would not give him the satisfaction of admitting it. As he, who had been born a warrior and never lost the instinct for close combat, turned his attention to the killing ground, Marco drew me a little apart. “I want you to be inside before the attack starts.”

I objected vehemently. “For what reason? You and I—”

He gripped my shoulders, compelling me to silence. “If you are with me, I will be too worried about your safety to fight as effectively as I must. Our feelings for each other will endanger us both.” When I was still disposed to argue, he added, “Besides, Mordred will be far more concerned with stopping Blanche than he will be with protecting Victoria or her guests. If worse comes to worst, you may be the last line of defense for them.”

As much as I longed to deny that possibility, I could not. Even so, I still resisted. “You approved of this. It could have been avoided, another time and place chosen—”

“What time?” he asked. “What place? When else do you think that all the factions—Protectors, werewolves, Mordred
and his supporters, ordinary humans—would come together to fight a common foe? The queen empress is right to make her stand here and now. She is the living symbol of the realm we love and for it she is prepared to give her life.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say that was well and good for her, an elderly woman who could look forward to only a handful more of years whereas he—I could not bear to think that he might fall; the pain was too great.

“I do not want to leave you! There are others who can—”

“No,” he insisted, “there are not. Do you imagine that Lady Blanche has kept secret her suspicions that you are a halfling? The others will know of that. Until the coming of the next Slayer, you are the being they fear most.”

I was disarmed, unable to muster any further argument. My defeat was bitter but, I vowed, it was the only one I would suffer that night. Scarcely able to speak, I murmured, “You will take every care?”

He assured me that he would. We embraced heedless of who might see us. As we stepped apart, the first guests were arriving at the gates. Ahead of them, striding across the lawn, came Nicolas, and he was not alone. A dozen men and women, all lean and agile, followed close on his heels. In their human forms, they were undeniably attractive, but they had about them a feral energy that could not be denied.

The brothers clasped hands. “Are you well enough for this?” Marco asked.

Nicolas laughed. “Would you have me miss it? Besides, I promised Mother that I would look after you.” He saw me and grew more serious. “You found Mordred not a moment too soon, Miss Weston. Now let us hope that together we can end this war right here and now.”

I was about to reply when the last rays of sunlight slipped below the trees. As they did so, Mordred’s legion of vampires arrived, coming out of the sky with dark, sinister strength that reassured me they would be a formidable force.

Everything seemed to speed up after that. Marco and I shared a last lingering glance before his brother dragged him off. Scarcely had I stepped back inside the palace than I was swept away by the beak-nosed lady-in-waiting to, as she put it, “be seen to.” When I protested that I had no time for such nonsense, she silenced me in the most effective way possible.

“It is the wish of Her Imperial Majesty.”

I yielded. A gown of midnight blue silk of exactly the sort I had coveted, but as an unmarried young woman had been denied, had been found for me. I was slipped into it with admirable speed and efficiency. Embroidered with pearls, the bodice and waist hugged me closely, while the skirt flared just enough for me to be able to dance.

“This won’t do,” I said. “I may need to move very quickly.”

The harried seamstresses, two of whom were scrambling about on their knees trying to finish the hem, looked at me in dismay. Realizing that what I was asking for was impossible, I resolved to make the best of it.

My untamable auburn curls were swept up in a chignon secured by ribbons embedded with sapphires and diamonds. Slippers of absurdly fine silk were placed on my feet. I was tugged at, smoothed, scrutinized, and pronounced fit.

Released, I hurried back to the central hall where Her Imperial Majesty was greeting her guests near the fountain. I hung back a little but had a good view of who was arriving. Truly, the cream of British society was on display with dukes and duchesses all but tripping over one another while baronets
and esquires were far too numerous to count. Nor had the new men of science and business been neglected. I saw several who looked familiar. Though I could not yet put names to the faces, I knew that I recognized them from social events at my family homes in London and Whitby.

I was still trying to remember who they were when a flash of violet silk caught my eye. The woman wearing it was in her middle years but still undeniably lovely. She smiled anxiously as she tried to take in everything without appearing to do so. Her escort was a dapper gentleman with a white beard and mustache. With them was a lovely young woman, too thin but beautiful all the same, whose upswept blond hair revealed the purity of her features.

At first, my mind refused to comprehend what I was seeing, but it would not be long denied, the evidence was too clear. My family had withdrawn from society following the events at Whitby. They had picked the worst possible moment to return.

My first instinct was to run to them and tell them to leave at once. But I could foresee all too clearly the pandemonium that would result as they confronted the daughter they had mourned for dead even while fearing that she had met a far more macabre fate. I would have to wait, as difficult as it was, until I could approach Amanda alone. I hoped I could convince her to plead a headache or some such and persuade my parents to end the evening quickly.

The queen empress and her guests proceeded into the gala. Musicians played as waiters circulated with flutes of champagne and trays of canapés. There was a great deal of excitement as people queued up for a turn to have a few “private” words with their sovereign. To be seen in conversation with her and to be able to recount it afterward to the unfortunates
who had not been invited would be the high point of the evening for some.

Shortly, dinner would begin. Until then, I could do nothing but avoid unwanted notice while staying alert for any sign that the battle had begun.

Struggling to do both at once, I took no notice of Sebastian de Vere until he was standing directly in front of me.

CHAPTER 29

E
asy, Miss Weston,” de Vere said when he saw my reaction to his presence. His hawkish face beneath a full head of silver hair wreathed in a mocking smile.

A red mist moved before my eyes. Visions of Mordred chained to the rack threatened to overwhelm me, but so, too, did thoughts of Jack, the lab animals, and the grotesque experiments performed in the perverted name of science. As much as I had been tempted to reveal myself to my family, I felt even more keenly the need to seize hold of the monster before me and rend him limb from limb.

Drawing upon all my self-control, I asked, “You know who I am?”

“Of course, I suspected the moment we met.” He tapped the side of his nose. “One develops an instinct for your kind. Although I must admit, Marco’s affinity for you is a puzzle. He’s always been the predictable one in that family, at least until now. By all rights, he should be your foe, not your ally.”

“Perhaps you’ve missed something.” I loathed de Vere and despised everything that he stood for, but as soon as the words were out, I regretted them. It was foolish to say anything that might arouse his interest.

With a flick of my skirt, I said, “You will excuse me.”

“Wait. I should be very upset with you but in fact, I’m not. You made a mistake freeing Mordred. He is far too weak to reclaim his power but he will try. When he does, how long do you think the existence of your kind will remain secret?”

Determined to resist the impulse to violence that threatened to overwhelm me, I said, “Why should I care if we are revealed? Humans imagine themselves masters of nature, capable of reshaping the world however they will. They should know that they share it with a species superior to them in many ways.”

“Not for long,” de Vere said. “I learned a great deal from my study of Mordred. And even without him, I have what I need to learn more. The cellular changes in your kind are remarkable but they will yield to science. We will come to understand how to take what we want from you and destroy the rest.”

He leaned closer. The copper scent of his blood made my nostrils flare. Seeing that, he touched a hand lightly to his chest. “Do not challenge me, vampire. You will find me more dangerous than you know.”

“Because you possess a stolen heart?” At his look of surprise, I said, “You betrayed the first duty of a Protector, to preserve humanity. Instead, you want to destroy it as surely as you want to eliminate my kind. What will be left in your barren world, de Vere? Only yourself and your ‘supermen’?”

Disgust filled me. I whirled away. Several guests stared at us but I ignored them. With a quick glance around, I realized that my parents and Amanda were no longer in sight. The doors to the vast dining room had been thrown open. People were moving in that direction. I went along with them.

The queen empress was seated on a dais from which her loyal
subjects could observe her every move. She was chatting with Gladstone, who was at her left, a place of honor surpassed only by that of the dour Salisbury to her right. Victoria and the lion had their heads together. Others were already wagging at their unexpected accord. Some of the more astute guests had also noticed the large number of grenadiers stationed throughout the room. A gentleman near me opined that the concern no doubt was for the anarchists, who had blown up the foundry.

With a sigh of impatience, I moved on. My family would be somewhere in the crowd, but try though I did, I could not see them. A majordomo approached with an offer to seat me but I brushed him off. In the grip of a desperate need to act, I moved toward the glass windows facing the park.

Bright spotlights of the new fluorescent variety had been lit outside—the Faraday generators again. I was relieved to see that the human defenders would not be taken by surprise by an enemy that could move at will through the dark. Several of the cold white beams had been pointed inward. The glare turned the windows into a wall of light that was impossible to see through. I had to admire the ingenuity of whoever had thought of that. Her Imperial Majesty’s guests could dine with no awareness of what was happening outside.

Provided, of course, that Blanche and her supporters were stopped before they reached the palace itself. Frustrated at being unable to learn if the battle had been joined, I debated what to do. I had told Marco that I would remain inside but being literally blinded was intolerable. Surely it would do no harm for me to take a quick look.

Behind a pillar entwined by a fragrant honeysuckle vine was a small door that led outside. Stepping just beyond it, I squinted into the glare. At first, I saw nothing. Hyde Park had
boasted a fine herd of deer from the day when it was Henry VIII’s favorite hunting ground. The present sovereign had not changed that. Deer fed at night but I could neither see nor smell any. The smaller animals that I also should have sensed—rabbits, owls, and the like—were similarly absent. That could mean only that they had gone to ground.

I stepped farther away from the building in an effort to see better. A flicker of motion caught my eye. Several of the vampires who had gone over to Mordred were keeping watch not far away. Beyond, nearer to the wall, I saw the Protectors. Wolves moved among them.

Reassured that nothing had happened yet, I started to return inside. As I did, one of the wolves threw back his mighty head and howled. The eerie, primal sound raised the hairs on the back of my neck. I looked again to the wall just in time to see vampires soaring over it, their dark shapes seeming to come directly out of the night itself. One by one, dozens in all, they alighted inside the park. First to reach the ground was Blanche. I saw the glow of her pearls before I glimpsed her face taut with the lust for blood. Her fangs were already unsheathed.