The Last of the Red-Hot Vampires (22 page)

BOOK: The Last of the Red-Hot Vampires
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“Wait a second,” I said, stopping him as he was about to open the door. “Are you saying that the person running the Court doesn't bother to put in an appearance once in a while?”

The dapifer's face reflected mild annoyance. “The sovereign does not choose to make its physical form known.”

“How incredibly convenient,” I said, shaking my head. “Why?”

“Why?” The dapifer's eyebrows went up. “Why what?”

“Why does the sovereign choose to not make its appearance known in the Court, its own home, if I understand the premise correctly. Is it afraid of something?”

The murmur of conversation that had accompanied the crowd following us hushed into a pregnant silence.

Portia, you are treading on very thin ice,
Theo warned as the dapifer's eyebrows rose in startled surprise at my question.
I urge you to discontinue this line of conversation. It can do no good to you, nor does it have any bearing on our situation.

No, but surely I can't be the only one here to find it more than a little suspicious that the almighty sovereign, the supreme being of everyone here, doesn't bother to pop in now and again and see how things are going.

I turned to the people filling the hallway as far back as the eye could see. “Doesn't anyone here wonder about the fact that sovereign has never been seen? Doesn't anyone question that policy?”

Sweetling, you must stop before this goes further.

So free thought isn't allowed here? Is no one allowed to question the existence of a supreme being that no one has ever seen?

The existence of the sovereign is not in doubt by any members of the Court,
he answered, and I could feel how carefully he picked his words.

“Is there any empirical proof that the sovereign is even here now?” I asked, amazed that something so basic had escaped everyone. “Does no one even wonder if the whole idea of a sovereign is…untrue?”

“No,” the dapifer said, his face once again bland and emotionless. “It is a matter of faith.”

“Faith? Because you believe the sovereign exists, it follows that such a being must be?” I shook my head again.

Theo turned so Carol's foot whapped me on the arm.
Sweetling, cease. We have more important things to take care of, and you arguing the logic of faith will not help our case.

He was right. I had met fanatics before—I'd lived with them for eighteen years—and I knew well that such people were not often open to logic and reason. This would be a battle for another time.

Sarah was watching me closely, concern in her eyes. I gave her a weakly reassuring smile and waved a hand at the dapifer. “Sorry to hold you up. We're ready if the mare are.”

The dapifer opened both doors with a grand gesture, sweeping in to make a bow to the dais at the far end of the room.

“Hol-ee cow,” Sarah said, her eyes huge as she spun around looking at the ballroom.

I had to admit, it was a pretty impressive sight. The walls were paneled in a warm, amber oak, with two rows of long windows running the entire length of the room. Sunlight poured into the room, leaving bright pools dappling the glossy, polished parquet floor. More pictures were on the walls between the windows, portraits this time, beneath each of which sat a silver and blue upholstered chair.

“They're going to need a whole lot more chairs than that,” I said softly as we proceeded into the room, Theo carefully making his way around the pools of sunlight.

“Will you look at those chandeliers?” Sarah's mouth hung open just a smidgen as she ogled the ornate silver pieces of art that hung from the ceiling. “Are those swans in them?”

“Looks like a whole mythology theme going on in this room,” I answered, unable to keep from looking at the mural on the ceiling. Although at first I thought it was the sort of allegorical painting one normally found on a castle ballroom ceiling, closer inspection showed elements of mythology rather than religion. Satyrs and fauns romped with sylphlike women clad in gauzy gowns in a sylvan setting, while on the far side of the room, nearest the dais which we were approaching, the scene changed to one of black and red, with figures of leering men, and small brown humanlike beings that I took to be some sort of demon.

Clustered to one side, between the woodland paradise and the fiery depths of Abaddon, but part of neither, stood a small cluster of men and women with downcast eyes, their expressions and body language depicting shame and remorse.

“Those are the nephilim,” Theo said, nodding at them.

“Right. It's brass-tacks time,” I said, squaring my shoulders as we stopped in front of the raised dais. Three chairs sat on it, two of which were occupied by the elderly mare named Irina and the acerbic Disin.

Theo set the struggling Carol down. I moved around to her far side, keeping a possessive hand on her arm. Theo bowed to the mare. I thought fleetingly of curtseying, but the fact that I had no idea how to perform such a move, coupled with an independent spirit that rejected such notions as someone being “better” than me, left me with the decision that a head bob would be sufficient to show respect.

“Good afternoon,” I said, nodding to both the mares. “I am sorry to disrupt you without warning, but—”

“Portia Harding,” Disin interrupted, her voice booming like thunder as it rolled down the room. People were still filing into the ballroom, but at her bellow they froze, a good half of the large ballroom filled with a solid mass of apparently lifeless bodies. “You have defied the judgment of the Court of Divine Blood by returning here without first being summoned to do so.”

Theo moved closer to me. Overhead, a small dark cloud formed. I willed it away, taking Theo's hand instead.

“I am not aware that the hearing you held constituted a legal trial, complete with judgment,” I said, keeping my voice as non-confrontational, while still firm, as possible. “As I recall, you ordered us to find the murderer of Hope the virtue by the new moon.” I waved my hand to the bound woman next to me. “We have done so.”

The crowd moved forward a few feet. I recognized a few familiar faces: the nameless boy proctor who'd taken me to the Akasha, Gabriel, the messenger Theo had stopped. Probably another two hundred people had joined them, filling half the ballroom. Each and every one of them turned to look at Carol Lee.

“Your cruel and callous treatment of this woman is yet another slap in the Court's face,” Disin said, her voice flinty and hard-edged. “Release her immediately.”

“I realize that kidnapping someone is an extreme action, and one I do not undertake lightly. However, given the circumstances, there was no alternative. I could not have convinced her to come to the Court on her own. If I release her now, she will simply escape.”

The crowd made murmurs of disbelief. Disin drew herself up until she seemed a good three feet taller than normal.

It began to snow inside the ballroom.

“Your impertinence is beyond all bounds. Release that woman immediately, or I will have you jailed for contempt.”

She looks mean enough to do it,
I muttered to Theo as I pulled out a small pair of nail scissors from my purse.
Keep an eye on Carol. She's going to bolt the second I have her hands free, I just know it.

Have a little more faith in the security of the Court, sweetling. Despite appearances, the mare will not allow anyone to leave if they do not desire it.

I cut the duct tape on Carol's wrists while Theo untied the gag. The second her hands were free, she attacked me, knocking me down to the ground, both hands clutching my hair while she banged my head on the ground.

Theo pulled her off me while Disin yelled for order.

“I told you,” I said softly as Sarah helped me up to my feet.

“There will be order,” Disin yelled, her hands gesticulating wildly toward us. “You will, all of you, display the respect due the Court, or I will take such measures as to ensure you will not darken our presence again!”

As a threat, it had sufficient punch to calm Carol down. She jerked her arm out of Theo's grip, but limited herself to a couple of murderous looks my way.

The snow moved to fall only on Carol.

“You will cease with such unseemly dramatics,” Disin ordered, pointing at me.

“I would if I could, but I don't seem to have a very good grasp on weather control,” I said.

Irina shook her head, her all-seeing eyes on me. “Child, child. This is not worthy of you.”

I cleared my throat as a little blush warmed my cheeks. “I hope that once I am formally accepted as a virtue, I'll be able to learn how to control the weather effects a little better.”

Sweetling, you will never be an actress.

I smiled at the soft brush of Theo's mind.

“Such an event is not yet in your grasp,” Disin answered with a distinct threat in her voice. “Nor will it be, if your present actions continue.”

I made an effort to dismiss the cloud, arranging my expression to be something a little less antagonistic, folding my hands together and waiting for Disin to continue.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm late I know, but I was held up in the mortal world. Goodness, is it snowing? How interesting.” Suria, the third mare, pushed her way through the crowd, giving the snow-covered Carol an interested look before taking her seat on the dais. “What have I missed?”

“Portia Harding has effected an act of violence against an outsider, and brought her to the Court without either permission or the knowledge of the mare.” Disin's glance flickered over to Sarah for a second. “Two outsiders. Such an inconsiderate disregard for the laws of the Court of Divine Blood is not to be tolerated!”

“Portia has little knowledge of Court etiquette and laws,” Theo said, moving closer to me. “We ask your graces to show the leniency for which you are so well known in regards to her accidental violations.”

“Accidental?” Disin asked, her face tightening. “Do you consider kidnapping a woman accidental?”

“It would, perhaps, be prudent to allow Portia Harding to explain her reasons for conducting such an…extreme act,” Irina said softly.

Suria nodded, her normally sunny face pinched and worried. “I will confess that I, too, am curious as to why Portia would go to such lengths. Who exactly is this woman you have abducted?”

“She goes by the name of Carol Lee, and is wife to Milo, who conducted the fourth trial.”

Immediately, a buzz of conversation started up behind me.

“And you say that she is responsible for the death of the virtue Hope?” Suria asked.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” I slid a glance toward Theo. His face was expressionless, but his warm presence gave me much comfort.

Go ahead, sweetling.

You speak with much more of a Court flair than I do. Maybe you should be the one to explain.

No. The honor goes to you. You figured it out—you should be the one to explain.

“You will explain your actions, child,” Irina said in her soft voice. The undertone of steel was enough to warn me that she wasn't going to be supportive if I didn't offer up enough proof.

“What do you mean, in a manner of speaking?” Disin asked, her words lashing the air with whiplike accuracy. “Did she kill Hope or not?”

“No.”

The buzz grew in volume.

I raised my voice to be heard over it. “She did not kill Hope for the simple fact that she
is
Hope.”

Chapter 22

She is Hope.
The last of my words echoed eerily from the back of the ballroom.

I licked my lips, nervous now that I had to lay the facts—such as they were—out before everyone.

You are doing fine, Portia.

Disin frowned at Carol, who stood as frozen as a statue. “You claim this mortal is a virtue? Do you think us so ignorant that we can't tell the difference between a member of the Court and an innocent mortal?”

“I don't quite understand how she can appear to be someone else, nor do I know about the mortal business, although I thought someone told me that you had to be a member of the Court to be immortal, and it follows that if she isn't a virtue anymore, she would no longer be a member, and thus lose her immortal status.”

The three mare gaped at me.

“I could be wrong on that, though,” I said, squirming slightly under their combined looks of disbelief. “I'm not very current with all the intricacies of Court life.”

“You are correct, as it happens,” a man's voice said behind me. We turned en masse to see Terrin at the door, a rumpled Milo beside him. He bowed to the mare, shoving Milo forward. “Your graces, please forgive me for this disruption, but I found this man sneaking into the Court, and felt it might have some bearing on a recent conversation I had with Theo North.”

“You are welcome here, scholar,” Irina said, bowing her head graciously. “Bring forward the one who was banned and readmitted into our grace.”

“Your grace,” Milo said, stammering slightly as he stopped in front of the mare. He shot his wife a look out of the corner of his eye as he bowed to them. “There has been a gross injustice done to my wife. She is, as you can see, mortal, and not in the least bit like the late virtue Hope as Portia claims.”

I nibbled on my lower lip. Carol's appearance was my one weak point. I was too unfamiliar with the denizens of the Court of Divine Blood to know if it was possible for someone to change their appearance.

“But you are a vessel,” Theo said slowly. I took his hand, drawing strength from the contact.

“It is true,” Milo said, squaring his shoulders as he looked out at the people gathered. “I have the honor of holding the position of vessel. Even a nephilim, however, must be aware that it is not within my powers to change a mortal's appearance.”

“This is so,” Disin said, turning to me. “You say that the mortal Carol Lee is really the virtue Hope, but you offer no proof for such a supposition. How do you answer this discrepancy?”

A smug look replaced the one of hatred in Carol's eyes. I knew I was right about her, I knew without a shred of doubt that she was Hope, but how did she do it? How did she morph into someone else?

“I…uh…that is…” I bit my lip again.

There has to be some way he can change her appearance. Is there a magic spell or something that would fool everyone?

A glamour? It is possible to confuse another mortal with a glamour, but not members of the Court, and certainly not the mare.

“Can you explain it, Portia Harding?”

“Er…”

There has to be some way, something we've missed, someone who has the power to change her in a way that would fool even the mare.

Theo's eyes opened wide at my words.

“It is evident that you cannot.” Disin waved her hands toward Milo and Carol. “You may leave, mortal. Portia Harding, I order you taken into custody, to await arraignment on the charge of gross abuse of power—”

What is it?

He smiled. Two Hashmallim suddenly appeared, wafting over to flank me. One person shrieked, while the others backed up a good ten feet. Sarah scooted over until she was near Terrin, who stood on the far side of Milo and Carol. Only Theo stood firm, apparently not at all concerned by the Hashmallim.

I really, really hope it's good.

Oh, it is.
He turned to Milo and asked in a deceptively mild voice, “Is it not true that one of your charges as a vessel is to serve as a conduit between the mortal and immortal worlds?”

“Yes,” Milo answered, his eyes confident. “But the ability to go between mortals and the Court of Divine Blood is not sufficient to change the appearance of one of them. All I do is act as a courier, someone who passes along communication, and arranges for meetings.”

Theo's smile got even wider.

What is it? What do you know?

Shhh. All in good time, sweetling.

Theo! How would you like a head full of snow?

His laughter echoed in my head. “And what of Abaddon?” he asked, and instantly, I knew what it was I had missed.

Oh, you're brilliant.

Thank you. You're not so bad, yourself, you know. I'd never have thought to look at a mortal for Hope.

“Abaddon?” Milo's confidence faded. “I suppose that technically it is possible, but not very likely—”

“Is it not, then, within the scope of your powers to arrange for a meeting between a mortal and a demon lord? Someone who, I need not add, has the ability to change the appearance of a minion such as a demon, or imp…or mortal servant.”

The gasps of surprise from the crowd were loud, as was the resulting torrent of conversation.

“Silence!” Disin shouted, jumping to her feet. “There will be silence here!”

Irina smiled slightly, leaning back in her chair. I had the feeling we had just won her over, and smiled back.

“Such a thing is against the laws of the Court,” Milo protested, his face pale. A light bead of sweat broke out on his forehead, and I knew we had him.

“Far be it from me to cast stones from the sanctity of my glass house, but you haven't been horribly concerned about following the laws of the Court in the past, have you?”

The look he gave me could have stripped cement.

“My past situation with the Court has nothing to do with this.” His lips tightened. “To imply that just because it's theoretically possible for me to contact a demon lord for the purpose of changing the appearance of a mortal, I have done so, is not only ridiculous, it's damned near obscene. I am a member of the Court of Divine Blood! It would be impossible for me to conduct any act in such opposition to the tenets of the Court.”

Is there any way to tell if he's been in contact with a demon lord?

Theo rubbed his chin.
Not here. A Guardian might be able to, but I doubt if it would be possible to tell if Milo has been near a demon lord lately.

“Your graces, I beg of you, please allow my lady wife to leave. She has suffered much trauma by the abduction and resulting indignities, and I fear for her well-being if she should be made to stand here while this person throws her smoke screens and misdirection.” Milo's head bent solicitously over that of his wife, the very picture of husbandly concern.

“Oh, for reason's sweet sake…smoke screens and misdirection. Like I'm the one trying to pull something on the Court.” I didn't even try to temper the disgust in my voice.

“Everyone here knows the true reason you summoned and destroyed the virtue Hope,” Milo said, his voice ringing clear and loud as he turned to confront me. He gestured toward Theo, whose fingers tightened around mine in warning or anger, I didn't know which. “You are the only one here who has an ulterior motive, not me.”

“Hey now,” I protested.

He continued before I could say anything more. “It is an established fact that Theo North has for centuries sought someone who would present the Court with an order of exculpation, thankfully to no avail. Until you agreed to help him by granting him the exculpation the moment you were made a member, his cause was lost.”

“I did not agree to anyth—”

“Do you deny that you intend to ask for a pardon?” Milo shouted, the entire ballroom silent but for the echoes, just as if everyone was holding his or her breath.

Theo's eyes were a light slate grey. His muscles were tight, as if he was poised to spring. I cleared my throat nervously, and looked at the mare. “I do not deny that I intend to speak to the Court about Theo's situation, but that was not my plan when I came to England, nor did I ever agree to take on the duties of a virtue. I didn't even know why Hope showed up when she did! I thought she was a hallucination at first!”

How distant those days a week ago seemed.

“You lie,” Milo drawled, his face hard. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you spoke the spells of summoning. Why else would you so conveniently have the spells upon you when you breached the sacred ground?”

“I told you that faery ring was real,” Sarah said in a whisper, nudging the back of my shoulder.

I was about to refute Milo's ridiculous accusations when something occurred to me. “How did you know that Hope was summoned by a spell?” I asked, wondering if at last a glint of luck was turning our way. “The only people to whom I explained what happened are my friend Sarah, and Theo, and I'm sure neither of them have spoken about it to anyone here.”

Both of them shook their heads.

“I heard of it from Terrin the scholar,” Milo said, crossing his arms over his chest as he nodded toward Terrin. “We had a discussion regarding your trials, and he told me the far-fetched tale you'd spun him.”

“I don't believe the method of summoning the virtue was ever broached,” Terrin said thoughtfully. “All Portia said was that she had inadvertently summoned a virtue, and received the Gift without understanding the importance of the act.”

“How is it you have such insight into the method of summoning Hope if you did not hear the details from the woman herself?” Theo asked, his voice as smooth and rich as milk chocolate.

We have him.

Possibly.

“I…it's only common sense,” Milo sputtered. “Virtues can only be summoned by spell, thus it was safe to assume that Portia Harding used such a method.”

“That's not true!” Sarah startled me by bouncing forward, apparently ready to battle Milo on our behalf.

“Sarah—”

“Who is this mortal?” Disin asked, giving Sarah a narrow-eyed once-over.

“My name is Sarah Wilson,” she answered, making an incredibly graceful curtsey. “I am Portia's oldest friend. I also happen to be an author, and am the one who gave Portia the spells. I thought they had a slight chance of working, but Portia was absolutely skeptical, disbelieving there even was such a thing as a faery ring.”

“This is all very interesting, but hardly has relevance—”

Sarah shook her head and interrupted Disin before she could continue. “It does have relevance. Once we discovered that Portia had inadvertently become a virtue, I did some online research into the history of virtues. One of the things I discovered was that, although virtues are rarely summoned, it can be done, most commonly by means of an invocation.”

There were a few snorts of disbelief, but out of the corner of my eye I saw several people nodding.

“What Portia used was a general summoning spell, not an invocation pleading for a virtue. According to my research, the spell could have summoned anyone in the Court.”

I gaped at my friend. “Why on earth didn't you mention that to me?”

She shrugged. “It didn't seem important at the time.”

“It didn't seem…good gravy, woman!”

The mare leaned their heads together.

Theo took advantage of their inattention to drive home the relevant point. “All of which brings us back to the point whereby you knew that Portia had used a general summoning spell, rather than the more common invocation. How do you explain that?”

“We are curious as to that point as well,” Disin said as the mare sat back in their respective chairs. She pinned Milo back with a look I was thankful wasn't, for once, turned upon me.

“Yeah!” I said.

Disin's gimlet glance descended upon me.

“Sorry,” I murmured, folding my hands and going for a contrite look.

“You will now explain how you knew in detail what method Portia Harding used to summon the virtue Hope.”

Milo looked decidedly nervous. I sent Theo a private smirk, and watched as Milo squirmed under the combined attention of the mare.

“I…that is, we…I…”

Carol leaned into him, whispering furiously. Milo's gaze was shifty, but he nodded a couple of times before straightening up and puffing out his chest. “By virtue of my role as vessel, and as a member in good standing in the Court of Divine Blood, I demand a renascence!”

There was a collective stunned gasp behind us, then utter silence.

He can't do that, can he? Overthrow the hierarchy like that?

I think he just did.

The mare got to their respective feet, all three standing in a tableau that reminded me, for some inane reason, of the three furies.

“On what grounds do you demand the renascence?” Disin asked, her voice deceptively soft.

Milo pointed at me. “The Court has been compromised. A non-member mortal holds the title of virtue, which is against the laws to which the hierarchy of the Court is bound.”

“Portia is not yet a virtue,” Theo argued, his arm sliding around my waist. I leaned into him, more than a little sick that everything had spiraled so far out of control. That I could be used as an excuse for the overthrow of the Court was unthinkable…wasn't it? “She will not claim that title until she completes the seventh trial.”

“Which I am certainly not going to do now,” I added.

Milo smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

Uh-oh. What's he smiling about?

I have a bad feeling it's about something Terrin was about to tell me when you showed up with Carol in tow.

“You are unfamiliar with our laws, nephilim. When a renascence is called, all scheduled business is completed before the Court is disbanded and remade.”

BOOK: The Last of the Red-Hot Vampires
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