Lothaire (61 page)

Lothaire rubbed his tongue over a fang.
I’ve got your evaluation.

In the council room, there’d once been an ornate round table, indicating equality among those seated.

He’d had the table destroyed, replacing it with a rectangular one. A throne dominated one end. No chair at the other.

And if Lothaire got any pushback on his redecoration, there’d be no council at all.

He was actually getting pushback on other things. Stelian was often too drunk to be afraid of Lothaire and so foolishly spoke his mind. Mirceo usually thought Lothaire was kidding, believing he could jest with his uncle.

Without his Bride, Trehan cared not whether he lived or died. Viktor longed to battle his king, taking every offense in the mean spirit with which Lothaire intended it.

Kosmina adored her new “foulmouthed but well-intentioned uncle.” Because, as she put it, “Perhaps we aren’t meant to understand him. Perhaps he’s as much a puzzle as he is a puzzle master.”

Hear, hear, Kosmina. But I’m still sending your ass to Louisiana.

Maybe the royals needed to witness a demonstration of Lothaire’s unmatched power. As yet, they merely thought him a besotted fool who’d been laid out by his female.

Still reeling . . .
After weeks in Dacia and numerous days of dreaming, Lothaire still had none of Elizabeth’s memories. His consciousness seemed to sidle at the very edge of them.

He knew that vampires never saw anything in their visions from which they couldn’t mentally rebound.

What lies in Elizabeth’s memories that could scar me worse than I already am?

Stelian cleared his throat. “Before we get started, we’d like to talk to you about your queen.”

Lothaire steepled his fingers. “Obviously, I have none.”

Mirceo said, “You’re a monarch with a Bride, my liege. That means she’s our lady, and we serve her. Right now, she’s a target for your enemies.”

An eighth of an inch of tendon.
“I don’t bloody want to hear this!”

Stelian said, “If for no other reason, you require your Bride for heirs.”

“I need none. I plan to live—and rule—forever.” So heirs were unnecessary. But what about simply having children? He’d grown pleased at the
idea of offspring with Elizabeth.
Yet another thing she stole from me!
He narrowed his eyes. “You scowl, young Viktor? My ruling for eternity doesn’t delight you?”

The towering vampire stood, his fists balled. “Your agenda is not what we envisioned,
Cousin
. You seek to plunge us into a new war and believe we should reveal ourselves to all in the Lore? This will no longer be
Dacia
.”

With his quiet intensity, Trehan said, “We vowed allegiance to a king
and
a queen.”

Viktor added, “We swore to protect Queen Elizavetta—”

In a flash, Lothaire lunged out of his chair, tracing forward to slam Viktor’s head against the table. “I told you never to mention that name to me!”

Viktor freed his sword and launched a strike, but Lothaire caught the blade, squeezing it. “If you’re not with me, you’re against me.” His blood gushed over Viktor’s disbelieving face. “You’ve erred for ill.” Lothaire gave a brutal yank, hurling the weapon from him.

When the others drew their own, Lothaire swept through the room with a speed they couldn’t comprehend. Claws bared, he disabled his opponents—rending a tendon in a dominant arm, slashing a hamstring. . . .

Back to Viktor. He palmed his cousin’s head. “Now,” he grated as he began crushing Viktor’s skull. “Do we all concede that we do not fuck with Lothaire? That I might be your relative, but I will
always
be the Enemy of Old?”

Stunned, reluctant nods all around.

“Above all things, I am your
king
.” He stared each one of them down as they fought to catch their breath or stanch a bleeding wound. “You obey
me
. Your undivided allegiance is to
me
. Vow this.”

Unlike Elizabeth, they’d be bound to him.
But I’d wanted her loyalty more than anyone’s, more than anything.

Once each royal had made his vow, he released Viktor, who crumpled to the floor. “Lothaire endeth the lesson.”

They dragged Viktor away, then traced from the room, all but Stelian, who clamped a gushing arm. “You’ve earned a lifelong enemy in Viktor.”

“I’ve earned respect!”

“Viktor’s too much like you to take the lesson you set out to teach him.”

Lothaire absently licked the gash in his hand. “Then he’ll soon perish under my rule.”

Stelian shook his head. “Now that political ambitions have been neutralized among us, your cousins are a good and true lot. They could unite as a family once more, if you would but lead them.”

“You’ve missed the point, Stelian. They might be good and true.” Lothaire bared his fangs. “But
I
am not.”

Hag strode in then, clad in conservative Dacian garb—stained with hot-pink and neon-green potions. “We need to talk, Lothaire.” She’d told him she’d address him as
sire
as soon as he called her Balery.

Or when hell froze over.

“What is it,
Hag
?”

“I don’t know what, exactly when, or how—but the first threat to your kingdom looms . . . soon.”

 56

W
here am I gonna go?” Ellie asked Nïx as she scratched at her new bandage. She and the Valkyrie, who seemed lucid today, stood on the front porch of Val Hall, waiting for the sun to set.

Though most of the coven had wanted Ellie to stay, Cara had put it simply: “She lingers; she dies.”

Despite being penniless, with only a single change of clothes, a hoodie, and a quart of blood packed in a grocery bag, she would heed Cara’s decree.

“It was never supposed to go like this,” Ellie told the soothsayer. “How will I feed myself or protect myself from the sun? How do I make a living?”

Nïx’s palms flew to her cheeks. “I meant to teach you how to join the typing pool!”

“I’m serious, Valkyrie! I can’t exactly use my degree to get a job. I don’t even have an identity I can use. Hey, maybe I can go to New Orleans, get a job in a Lore shop somewhere?”

“I suppose this would be a bad time to tell you that many beings will kill you on sight just for being a vampire. Werewolves, Furies, berserkers, and witches would try to do you in before they ever got around to figuring out who you are and why they should fear you. I’ve been sending out memos, but these things take time.”

“Why would Lothaire cast me off like this?
‘Rot in hell?’
What was
that
?”

“I know, right! Over one near decapitation? Unfortunately, he’s still stewing—could stew for decades. Time doesn’t mean the same thing to the very old. Think of it this way: Lothaire has lived so long that three weeks would feel like scant hours. His internal clock is telling him he’s been away from you for an afternoon.”

“So I should just wait for him to see reason? After that package, why would I want to be with the unbalanced undead?”

“Well, don’t forget that he came to me for help to save you. Considering that he loathes me—thinks I betrayed him—this was huge.”

“
Did
you betray him?”

“Yes. Often.” She shrugged. “Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.”

“I don’t follow—”

Nïx shoved her into the front yard, into the light of a blazing afternoon sun. “Flap your wings, little butterfly!”

Ellie traced back in; the wraiths tossed her back out. She hunched and hissed, but her skin . . . wasn’t burning.

“What is this, Valkyrie?” She stared at her unmarked arms. “How is this possible?”

“Did you hear Lothaire when he made his wish to turn you?”

Ellie shook her head slowly.

“He’s exceedingly bright. Surely he would have phrased his wish to, say, ‘make Elizabeth a vampire with all their strengths and none of their weaknesses.’ ”

Lothaire had told her he had a surprise for her. He
had
listened to her when she’d told him how much she would miss the sun.

And he’d given her a gift no other man could.

All the sunrises for eternity.

Unfortunately, she’d all but beheaded him before he could present his offering to her.

She raised her face to the light, still in disbelief.
I’m truly free.

After years of captivity, of answering to others, she could go wherever
she liked, do whatever she pleased. She could travel the world—without fear of burning.

But Lothaire’s selfless gift—after all, he could never enjoy it with her—only reminded Ellie that there
had
been a chance between them. When tears welled, she dashed them away, embarrassed for Nïx to see.

Needing her family, if only just to watch them from a distance for a spell, Ellie collected her bag and hastily waved good-bye to Val Hall, to the wraiths, to Nïx.

“Adieu, Queen Ellie!” the Valkyrie called.

“Thank you for everything, Nïx.” Ellie shrugged into her hoodie, pulling it over her head, just in case someone happened to spot her. Then she traced to the woods near her mother’s trailer.

The forest blanketing the mountain was old growth, the pines and hardwoods so dense that sunlight barely reached the moist ground—not that she
had to worry about that any longer. As she strolled along familiar paths,
she gazed up, watching the taller treetops rake a steady ridgeline breeze.

Her senses were so acute now. Here, she could smell the very earth. The sound of the cicadas was like a roar in her ears.

Every time she stepped on green pine needles, their crisp scent erupted. A bite of evergreen.

Like Lothaire’s scent.

Don’t think about him, Ellie! Look forward, never dwell.

From the edge of the woods, she spied her old trailer, finding it dingier than ever in the daylight. The aroma of cooking food carried from within. Though no longer appealing to her appetite, it smelled like home.

How would she ever be able to leave this mountain again? She knew she couldn’t stay, but where could she go?

Ellie briefly considered living in one of the exotic locales Lothaire had taken her to.
And how exactly would I get blood from Bora-Borans—

Oh, there was Josh! He played with some of his cousins on a broken-down, rusted swing set.

Look how much he’s grown!
His dark hair had more of an auburn tint than hers did, but their eyes shared the same color.

How she’d missed her baby brother! As she watched him, she got lost in memories of him as a chubby toddler, recalling how he’d barreled around the trailer like a Weeble, always leading with his stubborn chin.

Those tears of hers gathered and spilled—

“Hands where I can see ’em, or I’ll blow your head off!”

Uncle Ephraim. In the woods behind her.

She froze.
Oh, my God!
So much for not making contact with her family.

And he was such a quick trigger, she wondered if she could even trace away before a bullet plugged her.
Trace away to where, Ellie?

“Hands up, I said!”

She dropped her grocery bag, raising her hands. “It’s me, Uncle Eph. It’s Ellie.” She eased around, then uncovered her head.

His weather-beaten face paled, his wide jaw slackening as he lowered his gun. “Ruth!” he yelled in the direction of the trailer. “Ruth, come quick, your daughter’s losing her eyes!”

Ellie cried, “What?” Oh, the tears! “Wait, I’m not losing my eyes! Don’t call her—”

Too late. Mama came charging out in her house slippers, nearly tripping down the steps. “What is it?” She shoved her thick red hair out of her face, tossing a cigarette.

Ephraim covered Ellie’s shoulder with his callused hand. “Just stay calm, girl, and we’ll get you to a hospital fast as lightning.”

“I’m fine. This is just how I cry now.” As if that made
any
sense.

But when her mother reached them, she took one look at Ellie and shook her head sadly. “Ellie Ann, are them tears? What’d that feller
do
to you?”

When Josh came bounding toward them, Ellie whirled around. “Send him down the mountain. I don’t want him to see me like this!”

Mama headed him off, shooing him back to his friends, then said to Ellie, “You best come in.”

She nodded, and the three of them trudged to the trailer in silence. Inside, once her mother got a closer look—her gaze darting over Ellie’s tear tracks, black claws, and small fangs—comprehension dawned.

“Oh, Ellie,” she murmured, “don’t you know that when you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas?”

She knows what I am!
How would she react?
Will she shun me? Be disgusted?

“Don’t mean I ain’t gonna love your flea-bitten hide.”

Ellie wanted to sag with relief. When Mama opened her arms, she was tempted to run to her, but stopped herself. “I can’t be hugging anybody yet. I’m kinda strong-like.”

Ephraim gazed back and forth between them. “Ellie, I think you got a heap of talkin’ to do.”