Burning Both Ends Read online

  “They’re beautiful, but I’m surprised Sebastian had such excellent taste.” She took the necklace and held it to her throat as she looked in the mirror.

  “They are not from Sebastian’s coffers. The emeralds have been in the De Luca family since the time of my great-grandmother. They were originally fashioned to match the emerald worn by the male head of our family, a ring that has since been lost.”

  “A family heirloom? I can’t wear this.” She shoved the necklace back in his hands. “What if something happened to it?”

  “It is only a necklace, cara mia. I am much more concerned about the neck it will adorn.” His face softened. “It will please me to see the emeralds worn again. Turn around. Let me fasten it for you. Then I will leave you to complete your toilette.”

  Ari smiled at his language. She’d grown to like the quaint words and phrases that popped out from time to time. He made the process of getting dressed sound so elegant.

  As she watched him in the mirror, he lifted her hair and slipped the chain around her neck. The emerald’s fire glittered against her bare skin. His hands touched her throat briefly, and her pulse jumped. She kept her eyes on the necklace. It would look spectacular with the ivory outfit she intended to wear. She turned in his arms and planted a quick kiss on his lips. “Thank you for thinking of this.”

  “My pleasure always.”

  Ari pushed him out the door soon after that, before they both forgot the rebel vampires were on the way.

  Turning back to the dresser with a smile, she picked up the curling iron. It took her longer than it should, but when she finished her hair was up off her neck with long, dangling, spit curls framing her face. It was an approximation of Claris’s creation on another occasion. Claris was so much better at the girlie stuff, but Ari decided her efforts weren’t too bad. She stepped into the ivory silk pants, full and flowing at the bottom, and matching blouse. Slipping on the strappy heels and adding the other jewelry, she surveyed the results in the mirror. She hoped Andreas would be pleased. The off-the-shoulders top showcased the sparkling emerald, and the femininity of the flowing sleeves and pant legs fit the overall delicate style of the jewelry. Once she added her arsenal, concealed in pockets of the flowing fabric, she was as ready as she could be.

  Walking down the hallway toward the audience chambers, smiling at the soft swish of her fabric, she was caught off guard by the vibration of her cell phone. She dug it out of a pocket and checked the ID. Defying compound protocol, she’d kept it turned on since her return so she wouldn’t miss this call.

  “Horatio, what did you find out?”

  “Told you I’d call in time, didn’t I? That name you gave me? It appeared on a flight roster out of Galena into Chicago on the same day you left for Toronto. It showed up again on an incoming flight a week earlier. Is that what you expected?”

  “Yes.” A part of her was sorry she’d been right.

  “Going to make this official?”

  “Nope. That’ll be up to Steffan and the others. Thanks, Horatio, I owe you.”

  “I have something else of possible interest. When you got off the plane to make your connecting flight, a man was tailing you. Dark red hair, medium build, maybe 35 years old in a blue shirt and jeans. Had a slight hesitation in his walk. I spotted him quite easily, so I believe he is an amateur. He waited and took the flight after yours to Toronto. Do you need me to follow up with an identification?”

  Ari stopped in the hallway outside the audience chambers. A clear image of Percy, Marta’s human consort, popped into mind. His awkward gait. The unruly auburn hair. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been with Marta when Ari had arrived yesterday. That would be consistent with taking a later flight. A fascinating development. Why would he be following her? Was he doing this for himself or for Marta? Did the vampiress even know? Maybe he was acting on his own to make certain his lover became the next Toronto prince—or would Marta be called a princess?

  Ari returned her attention to the phone. “No, Horatio, don’t do anything. I’m sure I know who the tail was. Unexpected news, but thanks.”

  “Glad to help, my dear. Anytime. Have you taken care of your vampire problem yet?”

  “Just about to do that.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ari took a deep breath and opened the chamber doors. Andreas, Gabriel, Marta—and her redheaded consort—and several other vampires and werecreatures were already gathered. As planned, Lilith and Russell weren’t present yet, as they were patrolling the hallways to keep anyone from wandering in on Gilbert and the other hidden reinforcements. The werelion couple would join them as soon as the rebel group arrived.

  Andreas’s smile sent a shiver of pleasure through her the moment he saw her. He started forward but Gabriel reached her first, grabbing her hands in his. “You look marvelous.” Gone was the sour mood of last night. Gabriel bowed over her hands. “Please forgive my doubts,” he said softly. “I was blind to everything except Andreas’s needs.”

  She could hardly fault him for that. In fact, hadn’t she counted on him to watch Andreas’s back? “Forget it,” she murmured.

  Gabriel flashed his brilliant smile. “Allow me to seat you, my lady.” He pulled on one hand, urging her toward the raised platform area. It had been covered with dark red velvet for the occasion. Eight elaborately upholstered chairs in a similar red and muted gold were arranged in a row.

  “I believe this is my privilege,” Andreas said, smoothly cutting in and taking her hand from Gabriel. “Go find your own lady.”

  When he gave Gabriel an approving eye, Ari knew he’d overheard the apology. Good. The last thing she wanted to do was come between old friends.

  “Spoil sport.” Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows in comic fashion and stepped back. “You never were any good at sharing.”

  “I do not intend to start tonight.” With a quirk of his lips, Andreas turned his back on Gabriel and his smile broadened. “He is right about one thing. You look delightful, Arianna. But your hand is cold. Nervous?”

  “A little. I feel naked without my derringer. It’s too heavy for my pockets, and there was no way to make an ankle holster inconspicuous with these strap heels. It would kind of ruin the friendly image.”

  Gabriel peeked at her over Andreas’s shoulder. His face was puckered in a puzzled frown. “Why do you need a gun? You have the witch fire.”

  “The derringer allows me to be proactive.” When he still looked confused, she clarified. “It’s not limited to defense. I can shoot first and ask questions later.”

  “I don’t get this witch’s oath. What’s the good of having a magical advantage if you don’t use it?”

  “It’s a white witch thing. At least in America. It's because vampires have no defense against fire. It always kills and is capable of widespread destruction. All American fire witches are required to enter an oath to use it only for defense." Ari didn’t know how to explain it any better. It was a matter of fairness. Maybe Gabriel couldn’t relate to ethical restraints, that some things were just wrong. Maybe that’s the part vampires lost—the spiritual stuff. Yet the moment the thought crossed her mind, she rejected it. Andreas understood. Wasn’t that why he was insisting on diplomacy tonight? Maybe Gabriel had spent too much of his life around vampires like Sebastian and the O-Seven.

  Andreas led her toward the covered stage, where the chairs were arranged in a semi-circle for easier conversation. She’d be able to see each of them, judge body language and facial expressions. Yeah, sure. Not much to see among a bunch of vampires. Except for the eyes. Sometimes the eyes gave them away. Yeah, she’d watch for that.

  Andreas guided her to the third chair in the row. He took the seat on her left, Gabriel and Marta on her right. Oliver stood behind Andreas, and Russell would soon join him. The other four seats awaited their guests.

  It was 9:59 when Lilith and Russell slipped into the room. The rebels were within the compound. On the stroke of the hour, the chamber doors opened, a flare of power flow
ed into the room, and the guests were announced. Ari studied each vampire as they entered. Only one of them had been in Sebastian’s court that first night.

  The tall, dark-skinned vampire with a shiny, bald head entered first, indicating his rank. Ezekial had been Sebastian’s second lieutenant, right behind Marta in the chain of command. He mounted the stage with an air of command and took the chair next to Andreas, assuming the role of spokesman for his group. He was accompanied by a fierce-looking, female werewolf, who took a position directly behind his chair.

  The other vampires were newcomers to Ari. Jamal, not as dark as Ezekial, but not a product of the northern European countries, wore his black hair long enough to touch the shoulders of his gold leather jacket. He walked with a swagger, a female vamp with red hair and black leather by his side. She was content to retire and watch proceedings from the far side of the stage. Obviously not a player.

  Edward was European, and, in fact, spoke with a London accent. Brown hair, hazel eyes, a suit of tweed and leather, and an easy manner. He produced an engaging smile. Under other circumstances, Ari might have considered him charming. He, too, had an escort: a vampiress, regally draped in a full-length black gown. She joined the other female on the sidelines.

  Bartholomew was the last to enter, but decidedly not the least. A bear of a man, Bartholomew easily reached six-and-a-half feet and three hundred pounds; most of his bulk looked like muscle. His brown hair was shaggy and his face bearded. Intelligent and assessing dark eyes flashed from under all that hair. A man to watch. The male vamp with him paled in comparison—small, wiry, but she noticed the sheath of a stiletto at his waist. He faded into the shadows next to the platform. An assassin. Ari caught Lilith’s gaze and gave a nod. The lioness moved in his direction.

  None of the extra personnel were introduced, and Ari assumed they were emergency muscle rather than dates.

  She turned her attention back to Andreas, waiting for this strange meeting to begin. The audience room door suddenly opened again. Two human women entered. Young, attractive, and discreetly covered in long, flowing capes of black and silver, they seated themselves on the edge of the stage, directly in front of the visiting vampires.

  Ari looked at Andreas. His magic had flared for an instant. He wasn’t happy the women were here. Not his idea, then. Why would the rebels bring them? They didn’t look like bodyguards. She shifted in her seat, uneasy. She hoped the rebels hadn’t brought their own brand of entertainment. That could mean trouble.

  When Andreas spoke, his voice and manner were free of the tension she’d felt in that brief flare. “Welcome, my brothers. You and your guests are most welcome in this court.”

  Ari found the next ten minutes pretty boring. Andreas said all the right things; they had all the right responses. Eventually, Andreas asked them to state their business. At least that was Ari’s interpretation of Andreas’s much more formal and circumspect words.

  Ezekial spoke up, as expected. “We thought it was time to discuss the future of the Toronto Court.”

  “How kind of you to express an interest in my affairs,” Andreas said, his tone feigning mild surprise. “But hardly necessary. There is nothing that should concern you.”

  “Isn’t there?” Ezekial’s face assumed a harsher aspect, jaw jutting. “I…” He looked at his companions and started over. “We have heard otherwise. Several have deserted your court…” He left the sentence open, inviting comment.

  “Only seven have left,” Andreas corrected. “The four of you, plus three others who unfortunately are no longer with us. No one else has followed your lead. While I regret losing your support, it is of little significance to my future plans.”

  Ari’s hand tightened on her wine glass. That was rather blunt. But apparently no one thought it was offensive; they didn’t react. Weird vampire politics again.

  “Are you also unconcerned about the reaction from Europe?” Ezekial bit off his words, his manner barely falling short of rudeness. “The ruling council doesn’t support your claim to the crown.”

  “If you are accurate, and I have seen no proof, you are better informed on the subject than I am,” Andreas said. “I have heard nothing from Europe. No concerns or complaints. Have you initiated contact with the O-Seven regarding my affairs? That would be carrying your interest beyond the limits of friendly concern.”

  More inflammatory talk. She was still trying to get the hang of vampire diplomacy. Maybe if you made it sound polite, anything was OK?

  “What is or is not appropriate interest depends on your point of view,” Edward offered in his soft British accent. “I believe we have a legitimate concern about the future of such a large community of our brethren. A community to which you are a virtual stranger.”

  “That’s the heart of it,” Bartholomew bellowed. His voice was as large as his person. “You’re not one of us.” He eyed Andreas with a dubious look. “You’re too young. I don’t think you have the power to rule.”

  Andreas’s eyes flashed. “Your concern is noted.” He seemed to gather his next words. “Since you have all given formal notice of a challenge, I assume you intend to go beyond merely expressing your concerns. Therefore, I must digress long enough to make my own position clear.”

  No one stirred.

  “I will not abdicate the throne to any of you. Nor do I intend to share its management with you.” He held up one hand as Bartholomew started to speak again. “I am willing, even eager, to discuss an alliance and to participate in a larger community where all of you have an equal voice. A united Ontario province would be a much stronger territory. There is room for us all.”

  “With you in the capital city.” Jamal’s mouth twisted in a sneer.

  “Yes, that is a given.”

  Ari didn’t like Jamal’s tone or his general attitude. He slouched in his chair, arrogant, disrespectful. He had not been prepared to listen to anything Andreas had to say.

  Andreas wasn’t finished. He turned his head to pin Jamal with a daggered look. “This court is mine, Jamal, to handle as I choose. Rightfully won. I must insist you respect that.” He paused, as if prepared to force the issue, then seemed to change his mind. “Let us not squabble so early in the evening. There is always time enough to argue. Perhaps refreshments will clear our thoughts.”

  At his words, several lycanthropes appeared with three large, round tables which they set on the main floor in front of the stage. Gold tablecloths were spread over each, glasses and bottles of wine, beer, and blood placed on top. Crackers, cheese and fruit were provided for those who ate such things. To Ari’s surprise, the vampires rose without protest and gravitated toward the tables. She joined them at what appeared to be an anticipated intermission. How come everyone but her seemed to know the program schedule? She watched as each of the bodyguards came forward and tasted the wine or blood before any of the four master vamps indulged. Not very trusting, these guys, but it was exactly what she would have done under similar circumstances.

  She considered it just short of miraculous that conversation turned to mundane matters while drinks were served. Another part of vampire protocol? Or maybe the discussion was tabled simply because serving people were within the room. Despite the casual conversation and the bland, even friendly, faces, Ari sensed the tension in the room. She kept a wary eye on the rebels and their guards. Would the oh-so-polite hostilities reopen as soon as the servers disappeared?

  “Have you no entertainment for us, Andreas?” Bartholomew’s voice rose above the noise.

  “What, Bartholomew? You expected jugglers? I had not envisioned a social event. I could arrange a little music, if you like.” Andreas’s voice had grown careful, putting Ari on immediate alert.

  “That will not be necessary. We brought our own amusement,” the giant vampire rumbled. He gestured toward the two robed human females. “Come, my dears.”

  Ari tensed. This was trouble. She couldn’t imagine any amusement that involved human females was going to be acceptable to Andreas
. Or to her. Keeping an eye on Andreas for his cue, she edged toward the door. Whatever happened next, she wanted Gilbert and his recruits available to back up Andreas’s position.

  The women walked toward the bear-like vampire. With brittle smiles on their faces, they opened their cloaks and let them fall to the ground. The women were naked, except for a red lace ribbon around each of their throats.

  “What is this?” Andreas asked, his face expressionless.

  “We have arranged a blood-letting,” Bartholomew said, watching his host. “An ancient tradition. As you can see, these women are willing donors.”

  “Not tonight,” Andreas said quietly. “Not here. I have forbidden the sport within the confines of this court.”

  “We had heard that,” Jamal said, swaggering forward. “But I, for one, thought someone was kidding. Such practices have been common for us throughout history. Are you actually forbidding one of our most sacred rights, the taking of human blood?”

  “In this manner? Yes. You do not have the right to defy the treaties or demean another being. Blood-letting is punishable by execution.”

  Jamal’s harsh laughter echoed in the silent room. “Are you afraid, Andreas? We’re not breaking any laws. These lovely creatures are here by their own choice. It’s no different than consenting sex. Not like the old days when our people took by force whatever they wanted.” His voice was wistful, yet taunting.

  Ari froze in place. Jamal was deliberately picking a fight. She looked at the faces of the rebel group to confirm her suspicion: they had orchestrated this confrontation. She tipped her head at Lilith, and the lioness nodded. Trouble was about to erupt.

  “We have a different view of willing,” Andreas said. He glided toward one of the women and stopped to study her face. “These women have been drugged or enthralled. Even if they were not, I still would not condone the entertainment you propose. Like consenting sex, consenting blood sharing should be private. It is not a public sport.”