The Eldritch Conspiracy (20 page)

So my hair was fluffed, my makeup in place, and my smile fang-free when I stepped out of the plane and onto television screens throughout the world.

Adriana embraced me with actual warmth. To my surprise, Chiyoko hugged me, too. Her posture was so stiff she might as well have been wearing a whale-bone corset under her pretty red suit. But while it was obvious she didn’t like me any better than she had the last time we’d met, and hated having to touch me even the littlest bit, she smiled like a pro for the cameras and said all the right things.

I was expected to say a few words, so I told everyone how happy I was that King Dahlmar and Princess Adriana had found each other, and added that I was incredibly flattered to have been asked to be part of the bridal party.

One of the reporters in the back tried to ask probing questions about my mother and my childhood. I pretended not to hear, answering other, lighter questions instead. Then I posed for a few more photos, before we were whisked across the tarmac to the motorcade.

We drove swiftly through the city, our path cleared by an advance team. Neither Chiyoko nor Adriana seemed to want to talk, which was fine by me. I contented myself looking out the car window.

Serenity City was a lot like L.A.—minus the movie stars and plus a lot more flowers. There were lots of boutiques and a handful of high-end department stores. There were few signs of the earthquake that had roused me from sleep that night at Bruno’s, though I knew from news reports that it had been felt here, too. If there had been any damage, it had already been cleaned up thoroughly. Everything had been gussied up for the royal wedding. Banners of black and silver alternated with ones of purple and gold above all the main streets. Posters of Dahlmar and Adriana’s engagement photograph hung in shop windows that also displayed commemorative plates, knickknacks, and anything else you could think of. Adriana looked stunning, nearly ethereal. Dahlmar looked regal and elegant. I think they’d added a little more black to his hair than he really has. But hey—artistic license and all that.

The place was pulsing with life, too. Gulls wheeled and cawed overhead, their voices competing with the sounds of the city. Baker commented that the roads were packed because so many people had come to witness the first half of the wedding festivities. It had to be a security nightmare, but an electric current of excitement ran through the town, and for the most part everyone from the mainland seemed happy in their ill-fitting lavalavas and Bermuda shorts. They lined the streets, shouting and waving wildly as we went past, cameras and cell phones clicking away, capturing fleeting images of royalty. Adriana and Chiyoko did the tipping-hand “royal wave” as we drove down the street. I couldn’t bring myself to, so I just smiled a lot.

We’d reached the highway leading to the east half of the island before Adriana broke the silence. “What is the status of the bridesmaid dresses?”

“They should arrive at Levy’s today.” I smiled. “Isaac and Gilda have agreed to do the tailoring and the spell work. Agent Baker told me that they’ve cleared their background check, so no worries there.” I hadn’t been worried. I’ve known and loved Isaac and Gilda for years. But Adriana had wanted reassurance from her own security people. Her big days were coming up very quickly and things hadn’t exactly been going smoothly. She needed to know that something, at least, was going according to plan. Well, plan B. Or C, or whatever plan we were on by now.

“You should be using one of the royal tailors, not some stranger.” Chiyoko didn’t even bother to look at Adriana when she said it. It was a small slight, but a deliberate one. Since she outranked my cousin, she knew she could get away with it.

Still, Adriana isn’t one to let things slide. She smiled ever-so-sweetly and answered, “Isaac has done all of Celia’s tailoring for years. In fact, that’s one of his outfits she’s wearing right now. Cousin, how many weapons do you have on you at this moment?”

I took a quick mental inventory. “Two guns, a pair of knives, two One Shot guns with holy water, about a dozen various spell disks”—I paused, knowing I was forgetting something—“oh, and the garrote.”

Chiyoko turned away from the window, her eyes just a little bit wider than usual. “Truly?” She stared at me, looking me up and down very carefully. “I can’t see any of it.” Her voice was more curious than disbelieving.

I don’t like flashing my weapons, but I could tell that Adriana was up to something. So, sighing, I pushed up my left sleeve a bit to reveal the hilt of the sheathed knife. At Chiyoko’s raised eyebrow I opened my blazer enough to let her see the holstered gun and the small loops that held my squirt guns.

“What are the empty loops for?” the queen asked.

“Stakes, usually. I’m not wearing any because there’s never been a vampire on Serenity.”

“Until you.” She smiled like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

“I … am … not … a … bat.” I spoke softly, almost gently, but enunciated every word past smiling teeth. She obviously wanted to provoke me, was counting on my getting angry and saying or doing something that would cause trouble. I wasn’t going to oblige her.

“And yet obviously not fit for the throne.”

“Very true. I made that clear the last time I was here. I don’t want the throne.”

She smiled again, and this time it was the cat that ate the canary. “Then your aunt, Queen Lopaka, has neither heir, nor any prospect of one.”

Aha. There it was, out in the open. I smiled again, and this time I made sure my expression was every bit as predatory as hers had been. “Oh, I don’t know.” I looked at Adriana to confirm whether my suspicions about her vision of the other day were correct. “My cousin is a prophet, and I believe she’s seen who the new heir will be. It isn’t me.”

The car turned and stopped; apparently we’d reached the gates to the queen’s compound. Perfect timing. I couldn’t wait to get out of this car, but Chiyoko needed to hear about the future High Queen of Serenity from the princess who had seen her.

“It’s true, Aunt.” Adriana used the familiar term that I suspected was more a tradition between the royal houses than a fact of biology. “You should check with your own prophet. My sister-to-be will someday look remarkably like Celia, but without the fangs, tattoo, or scarring.”

“You lie.” She spat out the words, glaring at each of us in turn.

“Be careful, Aunt. Do not assume I will not call for a duel. Or Celia, either. She’s quite the fighter, as I’m sure you remember from watching the two of us duel.” Adriana kept her tone light, but her green eyes were flashing dangerously and there were spots of color on her cheeks.

Oh, hell. I didn’t say anything, but I thought at her, hard.
Don’t drag me into this.
Yeah, I’d fought a duel with Adriana—I’d had to. But I did not want to fight another one, thank you very much. And against Chiyoko? Unh-unh. Nope. No way.

Adriana smiled without mirth. “You needn’t worry, Aunt. My mother will bear a suitable heir before I, myself, have children with Dahlmar. This I swear.”

I wondered a moment at her wording. Was she preggers? Oh crap. I mean, no big deal to the sirens. But Rusland’s ultra-religious types might have a fit.

I’m not pregnant yet,
Adriana admitted in my mind.
We have abstained by our own choice. But I will be, soon enough after the wedding that they’ll be counting on their fingers.

The car had started up again, apparently we’d cleared security. Just another minute or two and we’d be pulling up to the main building.

Um. Congratulations?

This time the smile lit Adriana’s face.
Thank you.

I glanced over at Chiyoko, trying to see if she was listening in or not. She probably was. Most sirens do. They shouldn’t; even they admit it’s rude. But they do. The queen’s visage might have been carved from granite. “We shall see.”

The Secret Service agent opened the car door. I got out so fast it made him blink. Adriana announced that she was going to her office to take care of some business. She said that she’d be under guard and occupied until dinner, and suggested I go unpack.

That sounded like a great idea to me. I got as far as my old rooms in the guest house before Queen Lopaka’s assistant, Hiwahiwa, appeared at my door. She wore a green lavalava and would’ve looked perfectly elegant if she hadn’t been so obviously upset. While I didn’t know exactly what her relationship was to Laka and Okalani, I was betting there was one and it was close.

“Princess, please, can we talk?”

I wanted to say no. I really did. Instead, I stepped aside, letting her walk past me into the living area.

My suite in the guest house is very, very nice. It takes up most of the top floor, and since the security was so good, I felt perfectly fine about opening the French doors to the balcony off of the living room so that I could listen to the waves and smell the ocean breeze. I could feel the sting of spelling at the edge of the balcony but it was so elegantly done that I wouldn’t have noticed without my vampire blood.

The cabinets, dresser, and built-in desk were solid oak. The desk held a top-of-the-line computer. The curtains were dark gold, the color a perfect match for the carpet, and both had been color coordinated with the cream, gold, and brown checked comforter on the bed. There were half a dozen throw pillows in brown and gold, although at the moment most of them were piled in the far corner of the room rather than on the bed. I didn’t like throw pillows much.

A conversational group was arranged at the other end of the room, all of the furniture equally expensive, comfortable, and color-coordinated. The final touch was a beautiful, abstract oil painting that used all of the colors in the room. It was huge, taking up most of one wall. But it was gorgeous, the kind of thing I could stare at for hours while noticing more and more details.

Hiwahiwa walked straight over to the conversational group, waiting expectantly for me to join her. I tried not to sigh as I took a seat, which gave her permission to sit down. The sooner we got through this, the better it would be.

“Laka sent you?”

“Yes, Princess, she did.” Hiwahiwa looked at me with sad eyes. “Okalani hasn’t returned. Not knowing what else to do, Laka sought the advice of a prophet.” The tears that had been brimming in her eyes spilled over. “In the vision, her captors said they had to keep her alive for now, but she is terribly injured.”

Captive? Was that even possible? I mean, Okalani was the strongest teleporter I’d ever even heard of. I knew she could teleport through shields. What could possibly hold her?

I should have known Hiwahiwa would be listening to my thoughts. I simply had to learn shielding if I was going to spend any time on this island.

“There was a demon.”

I didn’t know what to say. Demons. They are the worst of the monsters. Fully evil, frighteningly intelligent, and literally hell-bent on the absolute destruction of humanity. I’ve run into them before, even had one specifically targeting me for special attention. There is nothing in this world that is worse. Then again, they’re not from this world—they have their own dimension. They can only come through here and wreak havoc when invited. And still, bad as they are, dangerous and evil as they are, there are idiots who will call them up. With the right protections, they can sometimes be trapped within a casting circle. But get one thing wrong … I shuddered, my flesh crawling with goose bumps.

Emma had been captured and abused with the aid of a demon. Her father and brother had betrayed me in order to save her. In the end, I’d helped them willingly. We saved her, got her out. But she’d had to have the memories magically wiped to stay sane.

“I’m so sorry.” I was. More than I could say. Because Okalani wasn’t just in physical jeopardy. She’d done things that could damn her soul. Unless something was done, she could be the demon’s plaything for all eternity. I didn’t know if hell was real, but souls most certainly were and demons could claim them, leaving the body an empty shell. I’ve been told by priests that it’s worse than death.

“So am I.” Hiwahiwa was actually wringing her hands. “Laka is … not right. It’s as if she’s lost her mind. The doctors have her sedated.”

I could see that. How bad would it be, knowing the child that you loved was in such danger and that there was absolutely nothing you could do to save her? Worse, Laka probably blamed herself. Although there was no way she could’ve stopped this from happening.

“Princess, before she passed out, Laka gave me a message for you. In the vision the men controlling the demon were talking. They said that you had been captured, that they were going to use cameras to film them feeding you to that thing and broadcast it on the Internet.”

I managed to make it to the bathroom before I threw up.

I took a few minutes to clean up, brush my teeth, and try to pull my thoughts together. It was hard to do. My emotions kept getting in the way—foremost among them panic. I forced myself to take deep, soothing breaths. I could do this. There were no demons here, now. I was fine. The future isn’t set in stone. Every choice we make can cause changes, ripples in time and reality. Visions show probabilities, not facts. Even Vicki, who had been one of the most powerful clairvoyants born, had admitted that. This could change. I could change it. Sometimes, just the knowing of the future is the changing event.

When I managed to get myself under control, I went back into the living room. I found Hiwahiwa standing at the French doors, looking out at the ocean.

She spoke without turning around. “I’m sorry for my indiscretion, Princess. I shouldn’t have upset you. You won’t be able to save her. No one can. Her body is broken. She will …
die
.” Her voice broke on the last word. She gave a harsh gasp. “But she repented what she did. She was trying to make it right. If you kill her … her soul…” Hiwahiwa couldn’t finish the sentence.

Her soul might be saved? Maybe. I didn’t know. I’m not religious. I’ve had exorcisms performed on me to remove demon taint. I’ve received last rites from a warrior priest, even though I’m not Catholic. I’ve had rabbis, imans, and monks pray over me. I didn’t know for certain if Hiwahiwa was right. Redemption is a tricky thing. But I believe in God. I believe he/she forgives us if we truly regret our sins and try to make amends. I believe. But I don’t know.