Bloodline Read online

  I’m not sure how to feel about this new information. I understand the Council wants to prevent widespread panic, but it feels wrong. Don’t our people have a right to know? How can we expect them to protect themselves if they are completely unaware of the danger? The frequency and brutality of the attacks is alarming. Especially since Shaye’s whereabouts continue to be unknown.

  So much for staying in touch. She hasn’t called again, and I’m worried about her. What good is joining the Council if I can’t protect the people I love?

  I sigh and reach for the discarded parchment. Time is running out. I need to focus because, honestly, I have no idea how I’m going to do this. The phrase “in over my head” doesn’t even begin to do justice to my current situation. “Totally effed” seems more fitting.

  I’m working on the last parchment, racing the clock, when there’s a knock at the door. I look up to see Viktor’s bald head peeking in.

  “Come on in,” I tell him with a wave, thankful for the distraction. “I could use a break.”

  “Lincoln says you haven’t fed today. That’s unwise,” he says handing me a pint of blood with a raised eyebrow. He’s right. I need to keep up my strength.

  “Thanks. I’m a little pressed for time.” I sniff the glass, confirming it’s not human before bringing it to my lips and draining it. No need for manners with Viktor. The coppery substance goes down with ease, quenching the thirst I’d been ignoring all day.

  Viktor slides into the leather chair next to me, casting a curious glance at the papers that litter the table before him. “Still studying?”

  “Shouldn’t I be?” I ask, twisting my hair into a loose bun and pinning it at the back of my head. “I’m a little lacking, don’t you think?”

  “You’re going to do fine,” he assures me. “Just remember, you must take the oath and your position seriously. And whatever you do, do not show them fear or weakness. They’ll eat you alive. Damn vultures.”

  Viktor’s concern is touching, but his words are solemn and I have no doubt he’s right. I seriously doubt my presence on the Council will be welcome. Far from it. My age won’t be the only disadvantage. They’ll have a hard time accepting me due to the fact that I wasn’t raised among them. They don’t know me, and I don’t know them. That anxiety cuts both ways.

  “I’m a little surprised we’re doing the ceremony face-to-face,” I say, changing the subject. Actually, surprised is an understatement. It seems a fool’s errand. Why not paint a big old target on the mansion and invite the Order to take their best shot? It’s not often the entire Elder’s Council gathers in one location, but I imagine it would be the ultimate temptation for a secret society looking to destroy us. Security has been quadrupled, but we won’t know if it’s enough until it’s too late. Seems like an awfully big risk just to swear me in. After all, the ceremony is just a formality. My acceptance is a foregone conclusion given my bloodline. “Wouldn’t it be more prudent to do this virtually, without the entire Council under one roof?”

  “Yeah, well,” Viktor says, scratching the back of his head thoughtfully. “I dare say they’re hoping to dissuade you.”

  “You mean intimidate me?” I counter. I’m no fool. And I’m not a coward. I have no intention of backing down.

  “Don’t take it personally. It’s natural they would try to close ranks to an outsider. Not only are you a wildcard, you’re powerful. You may only be eighteen, but the Lescinka name carries a lot of sway. Don’t let them get in your head.”

  “I know, I know. I have to be strong; I’m the heir, and there’s nothing they can do to take my power… unless they find out the truth.”

  “They won’t.” He growls, and I know he’ll do whatever it takes to protect me. “Anyway, you’ll have allies.”

  “DeVanie and who else?”

  “Me,” he says with a smirk. “The rest? Well, you can’t really trust any of them, can you?”

  “Bloody hell.”

  **********

  Dressed in the black hooded robe DeVanie provided, I descend the stone stairs deep in the basement of the mansion. The silky robe swirls around my ankles as I step into the dark antechamber, the small space lit by a single torch which hangs from the wall. Talk about grim and foreboding. My fingers itch to smooth out the fabric of my robe, but I resist the urge. No fidgeting, I remind myself. I may be on the verge of a spaz attack, but I can’t let it show. I take a deep breath. I only have one chance to make a first impression on this lot, and whatever happens, it’s not likely they’ll soon forget.

  There are Linkuri guarding the door. A guard I don’t know stands to my right, Lincoln is to my left. Our eyes lock, and he gives me a wink of encouragement. I return the gesture with a slight nod. I square my shoulders and smooth my face into a mask of confidence as they pull the heavy wooden doors open. It’s now or never.

  The inner chamber is dark, lit only by a roaring fire that casts shadows across the small room. Like me, the other council members are indistinguishable in their black hooded robes. It’s impossible to determine who’s who among them. Just as well. I’d rather not see their judging faces right now. There will be plenty of time for scrutiny later.

  I’m the last to arrive by design. I enter the room with renewed determination and take my place, standing shoulder to shoulder with the others at the round stone table. My eyes dart around the massive table, settling on the small fire that dances at its center, writhing and twisting in the dark.

  The tension in the room is nearly palpable. I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible, but apparently I’m the only one who feels that way. The Elders seem hell-bent on dragging it out as we stand there in silence for what feels like an eternity. I’m pretty sure this isn’t part of the ceremony. They’re giving me time to break, to change my mind, but I will not be intimidated. Even if there is a swarm of butterflies doing their thing in my belly. After all, I’m all that’s left of Aldo’s legacy.

  Finally, one of the robes speaks. “It is time.” His voice is deep and gravelly. I can’t see his face, but I’d bet this guy puts the elder in Elder’s Council. My assumption that he’s older than dirt, and his accent suggest he’s Spiros Vlahos of Greece. I give myself points for identifying at least one of my new cohorts without a visual aid. Studying paid off. Know thy enemy and all that. Vlahos spreads his arms, palms up, before continuing. “In this, our darkest hour, we gather to preserve the integrity of the Consiliul de Batrani, ensuring our circle of power is once again made whole. Katia Lescinka, heir of the Lescinka bloodline, tonight you will bleed with us, swearing your undying allegiance.”

  For the first time, I notice the firelight glinting off the blades resting on the table. A small, golden dagger has been placed before each of the Elders. Each bears the sigil of the house it represents on the hilt. I can make out a few of them in the dark chamber, identifying the Elder who stands silently behind it. I’m wedged in between Erich Wolff of Germany and Caterina Rinaldi who hails from Italy. DeVanie is at my three o’clock.

  My eyes flit to the dagger pointing at my own gut. I knew about the bloodletting, of course, but that doesn’t make it any less disturbing. I’ve been punched and kicked and even shot, but the idea of cutting my own flesh still gives me the heebie-jeebies. Because really, how archaic is a blood oath anyway?

  I feel the eyes of the other council members on me, boring into me from under their dark hoods. That’s my cue. I begin reciting the oath I’ve memorized for tonight’s ceremony. Like the bloodletting, it’s dramatic and dated. Thankfully, it’s also short and sweet. I’m able to get through it easily; no wavering, no stuttering, just a cool, detached recitation. When it’s over, I reach for the dagger that’s been placed in front of me. Etched into the hilt is the mark of the lion. Ferocious. Courageous. Powerful.

  Before I can overthink it, I grip the cool metal of the hilt and draw the blade across my palm, slicing my flesh and allowing my blood to flow freely from the burning wound. I cup my palm, preventing the prec
ious fluid from spilling and move my hand over the fire. The flames lick at my hand, reaching for my flesh, seeking my blood. Such a small flame, but it burns hot, threatening to blister the hand that hovers just out of reach.

  Purposefully, I look at each member of the Council, giving my best attempt at eye contact. Their hoods remain up, but I know they’re watching me like a pack of wolves about to devour unsuspecting prey. I rotate my wrist, allowing the warm fluid that has pooled in my palm to splash into the fire. “With this blood, I, Katia Lescinka, swear my eternal fealty to the Consiliul de Batrani. By my life and death, I will protect the Consiliul de Batrani, its secrets, and the old way of life, putting the will of the Council above my own.”

  One at a time, each of the Elders follows suit, slashing their palms and spilling their powerful blood into the flames. While I wouldn’t accuse any of the Elders of being quick about the task, I notice one who hesitates longer than most. His sigil bears a dragon. So Li Wei Yao does not approve of me. I doubt he’s the only one. Just the only one doing a piss-poor job of hiding it. It doesn’t matter. This isn’t a popularity contest, and no matter how much they detest my presence, their own ancient laws mandate they accept me. The gesture of the bloodletting is purely symbolic, their way of honoring my allegiance and sealing the commitment. For eternity… however long that may be.

  Chapter Eight

  Once the ceremony is complete and the last Elder has bled, the chamber doors are unsealed, allowing support staff to join us. The small group files in, making quick work of the torches that line the circular room. The added light reveals a second ring of chairs lining the outer wall of the chamber. Viktor moves to the chair directly behind me and stands at attention. I notice some of the Elders have two advisors and smile inwardly at the irony of the advisors outnumbering the actual Council members. Apparently this group isn’t as all knowing as they’d have the vamp world believe.

  The other Elders throw their hoods back and take their seats, so I follow suit. Once the last Elder is seated, the advisors are permitted to sit as well. I scan the table, giving myself a quick mental quiz to ensure I can associate each face with a name and coven. Twelve pairs of eyes stare back at me, and I can’t help but think their wary, skeptical looks are the result of my presence among their ranks. A few of them, including Yao, glare at me openly. I groan inwardly. Gaining their acceptance will be an uphill battle all the way.

  I remind myself I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome. DeVanie warned me not to expect much, and even that was an overstatement based on the reception I’m getting. Although the table has no head, it hums with power. I drink it in, awed by the fact that I am sitting shoulder to shoulder with the most powerful vampires in the world. Just being in the company of so much power is unnerving. It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that I am one of them now. The implications are mind-blowing. Thankfully, although I inherited Aldo’s place at the table, I did not inherit his position. If Aldo does not return, we’ll need to elect a new head. In the interim, it’ll be a free-for-all, with each coven pushing their own agenda.

  “Shall we get started?” DeVanie asks, taking charge immediately. He appears perfectly at ease, despite the troubles that plague the Council. “We have much to discuss this evening.”

  They don’t bother with introductions. They all expect me to know them. They also don’t bother to offer kind words of welcome and get right to business.

  “What do we know about Aldo’s disappearance?” The speaker is blond, appears middle-aged, and has soft brown eyes. She wears her hair in loose curls that flow past her shoulders. Madison Witte. Like DeVanie, she’s an American and calls the City of Angels home.

  “Not much,” DeVanie admits, tenting his fingers on the table in front of him. “The Linkuri—”

  He’s cut off by Samir Tarik before he can finish the sentence. “The Linkuri are half the problem! Where were his guards, anyway?”

  “Samir!” Madison scolds her Egyptian counterpart, her eyes flashing angrily. “The Linkuri are the best defense we have against these rebels!”

  “If that’s true, we’re all in trouble, aren’t we?” he returns with a scowl. “The head of the Council disappears, and they have nothing! Nothing!”

  “He has a point,” agrees Vladimir Smirnov. He’s a big man with a big beard that he rubs thoughtfully as he speaks. “What are the Linkuri doing to protect us?”

  “I spoke with the Commander earlier today. He’s offered to increase security and provide additional guards to each member of the Council,” DeVanie offers. This gesture does little to placate the group and sets off a new round of arguing.

  “To what end?” asks Victoria Garrott, crossing her arms. “They’re spread thin as it is. We have no idea where or when these monsters are going to attack. We don’t need additional protection. We need bodies in the field seeking the enemy.”

  “Your English pride will be the death of you,” challenges Takashi Nakamura, pounding a fist on the table. “Do not be a fool!”

  “You dare call me a fool?” she returns, nostrils flaring angrily. “Only a fool would give up the hunt and cower behind additional guards. Guards who, need I remind you, were unable to protect Aldo.”

  I can almost feel Viktor stiffen at my back. Her words are like a slap in the face for both of us, but she’s not wrong. I straighten my spine, fighting the urge to interject, and remain silent. This is the time for me to observe and learn everything I can about the other Council members and how they interact with one another.

  “Victoria is right,” Lefevre argues, reminding me that these two are my best chance for allies outside of DeVanie. I make a mental note that they seem to be allied with one another as well. “We can’t even communicate with our enemy because we don’t know who they are or where they are. They’re terrorists in the night.”

  “Having fun yet?” The words are spoken so softly I nearly miss them. When I glance to my left, Wolff smiles at me with a devious glint in his eye. He’s not unattractive, although he sort of looks villainous with his dark hair slicked back Draco Malfoy–style.

  “Are they always like this?” I whisper, taking a chance and hoping he’s not offended.

  “You have no idea.”

  Hell’s bells! My head is already spinning from all the bickering. It’s a wonder the Council ever gets anything done. Then again, patience is probably at an all-time low as a result of Aldo’s disappearance.

  “We must strike back,” argues Eduardo Cardoso. “If we continue to sit idly by while they maim and murder, there won’t be any power left to usurp! Every life they take is an insult to the authority of the Consiliul de Batrani. My people are getting restless. They demand answers I cannot provide. It is time we take the offensive and crush these vermin.”

  “How exactly do you propose we do that?” asks Wolff with that same devilish smile. “Our enemy is a master of guerilla tactics. And we, well, we can’t agree on anything, now can we?”

  They go on like this for hours, arguing like a bunch of blood-thirsty teenagers. I slip my hand into my robe and gently caress the bloodstone amulet that hangs around my neck. A gift from Aldo, I treasure it above all else. It’s part of a matched set, and wearing it makes me feel closer to him, wherever he may be. What would he do in this situation? Would he allow this squabbling to continue endlessly? It’s counterproductive at best. A waste of time we don’t have at worst. As I sit there playing with the precious stone, I feel the heat of Viktor’s gaze on the back of my neck. Right, no fidgeting. Perhaps it’s time I take a more active role in the Council.

  “Silence!” I command, speaking for the first time as three of my fellow councilmen argue in a vain attempt to speak over one another.

  Once again, twelve pairs of eyes dart in my direction. Twelve silent pairs of eyes I tell myself, celebrating my success. They aren’t silent long.

  “Who are you to speak to us this way?” Smirnov looks like a teakettle about the blow.

  “This is exactly why children do
not belong on the Council!” Tarik admonishes, his cheeks stained with embarrassment at being silenced by a girl. They spew their outrage, finally finding a common enemy they can collectively assault with their pent-up frustration. I expected as much.

  DeVanie comes to my aide. “Aldo named Katia his successor. We’d all do well to remember that, given his whereabouts are unknown.”

  “Is that a threat?” Smirnov challenges, anger burning in his black eyes.

  “Not at all.” I give him my brightest, warmest smile. It isn’t much, but it’s all I’ve got. “I want nothing more than to get to the bottom of this nightmare so that we can bring Aldo home and put an end to the violence. What do we know about the Order? Surely we must have some leads?”

  “The Linkuri haven’t turned up much over the past six months,” Witte informs me, her brow wrinkled in displeasure. “Their attempts to date have been… disappointing.”

  “That may soon change.” Nakamura gives the group a cryptic smile, seemingly enjoying his moment in the spotlight. “The Order is getting sloppy. Earlier this week, a rather prominent Japanese family was attacked in their home. The family was slaughtered, but through a piece of good luck, the Linkuri were able to apprehend one of the attackers. He’s being held for interrogation.”

  “Why are we just hearing of this now?” demands DeVanie. A vein in his forehead pulses rapidly. I don’t know the man well, but I’m pretty sure it means he’s pissed. “The Commander should have reported this to the Council immediately!”