Summoning Shadows: A Rosso Lussuria Vampire Novel (21 page)

Aye, Piph. Get up.

I turned my head, using my hands to push myself upright. Cuinn’s orange and coal face seemed larger than it should’ve been.

That’s it, come on.

“Cuinn.” I sat up, trying to see past his visage. “Where the bloody hell am I?”

In your head. Where else?

There was nothing, a vast nothingness, save Cuinn and me. A soft orange glow surrounded him, illuminating the darkness around us.

I felt dizzy and sick. “Why?” I asked.

You’re unconscious.

“Morina,” I said, remembering. “Renata, Iliaria. Cuinn, the others!”

Pipe down! There’s not a thing to be done now.

I grabbed him by the ears and pulled his face to mine. “Cuinn,” I said, a bit more sternly than I’d have liked, but in the moment, I didn’t particularly care. “Cuinn, you have to wake me.”

Cuinn didn’t struggle or attempt to fight off my hold while I clung to him. His features turned gentle and compassionate.
I cannot, Piph. The Great Siren’s drained you close to death. I cannot wake you here.

I panicked, uncertain what to do. Would she kill me? Would I feel it if she did? Or would I forever be lost in this place of nothingness?

If she was gonna kill ye, you’d be dead already, methinks.

“Then why am I unconscious and where are the others, Cuinn? Do you know where they are?”

Regretfully, Cuinn shook his head and sat back on his haunches.
Nay, I do not. As for why you are unconscious, you remember her biting you, don’t you?

“Yes.”

I’m sorry, Piph,
Cuinn said, momentarily losing me. I wasn’t sure what he was sorry for, and then he stepped forward and bumped my left hand with his snout.
Look, lass.

I did so. There, on my wrist, were flowing black lines. The letters were more sharply tipped in places than Iliaria’s mark, but that’s what it was: a mark. I raised the sleeve of my gown and found the dark ink-like sigil merged with another. A long branch of flowing black veins that traveled around my arm and up toward the bend of my elbow like an elegant vine. I checked my other wrist and sighed with relief when I found Iliaria’s still embedded in my skin.

“How?” I asked Cuinn. “How can she mark me? I already bear Iliaria’s mark.”

It does not seem to matter. She’s done it anyway. That and more.

“What more, Cuinn?”

She’s tied herself to you, Epiphany.

I blinked, trying to understand. “I don’t understand, Cuinn. She’s tied herself, how? I’m tied to Renata because she’s my Siren, and I’m bound to Iliaria through her mark, and I’m tied to you through the sword, but you make it sound as if Morina’s done something different in the way of binding…” I raised my arm. “Why does this travel all the way up my arm, Cuinn?”

She’s tied her soul to yours.

“That’s possible?”

Aye. A bit like a Siren ties a piece of herself to her vampires. Only, this is a Great Siren we’re speaking of and essentially she’s made it so that if anyone hurts her, they hurt you and vice versa.

The carnelian glow of Cuinn’s power began to dim.

“Cuinn?”

The blackness seemed to stretch and grow, threatening to swallow him.

Time to wake up,
he said.
I’ll be with ye when ye wake, Piph. I’m always with ye. Never forget that.”

As if I could
, I thought sadly.

I woke with skin pressed against my lips. A hand cradled the back of my head and held me upright.

“Rise, vampire. Rise and drink.”

The hum of fresh blood was a promise against my mouth and seduced me. It awakened a fiery hunger at the pit of my belly and tainted my thoughts. Driven only by instinct and need, I did as I was told. I bit that sweet wrist and honey blood welled between my lips, coating my teeth and tongue before I swallowed.

I raised my hands and held that wrist to my mouth, drinking the nectar of someone else’s life. Even if I had wanted to stop, I would not have been able to do so. My hunger was too great a void and the only objective I had was to fill it.

Metallic and velvety, stronger and richer, in some part of me I knew it was Draculian blood. In some part of me I recognized Morina’s smooth alto voice when she had bid me to rise and drink from her. In some part of me, I knew I should’ve cared, but in the throes of a gut-wrenching hunger, I didn’t.

Morina continued to cradle my head while I drank from her. Her blood pooled at the corners of my mouth, dribbling down my chin as I frantically tried to take in more than I could swallow.

“That is enough,” she said, but still, my hunger had not abated. Still, I did not stop.

She grabbed me by the hair, jerking my mouth from her skin and forcing me to swallow.

“Enough! You’ll drink yourself into a stupor, vampire.”

I licked the blood from my mouth. “If I am now your prisoner, lady, a stupor does not sound so bad an idea.”

Morina smiled cattily. “So soon you resent me, vampire? We’ve not yet had the pleasure of becoming well acquainted enough for that, I think, but not to worry. There will be plenty of time.”

She released me and stood tall and straight, her wings relaxed behind her. I sat up in the bed she had placed me in, trying to think as Renata would have encouraged me to do in such a situation. The only light in the room was a fire that burned beneath the mantel of a beautiful fireplace. Plum and burgundy draperies covered the canopy. Though not necessarily exquisitely furnished, the room was warm and cozy and well kept, making me think that it was someone’s home. Or had been, before Morina had brought us here.

“Where am I?” I asked.

“Here for now,” Morina said. “That is all you need to know.”

“Where are the others?”

“The clan of Ravenden, I imagine.”

“You have brought me here against my will. They will come looking for me,” I said.

“Terribly sorry, but that’s mostly the point,” Morina said. “I have faith they will come looking for you, vampire. Precious as you are.” She reached out, touching my cheek. I recoiled, glaring at her. Morina seemed to find that amusing, offering a low, rumbling laugh that sounded like some great cat’s purr.

She lunged forward, catching me by the wrist. She jerked my arm toward her and I didn’t fight. She was Dracule, and vampire or no, she could’ve torn me limb from limb. I wasn’t willing to find out just how much damage a vampire could withstand from one of their kind.

Morina pushed up my sleeve, baring the tattoo on my arm, revealing her mark as if she thought I didn’t know it was there. “But when they find you, as they will, there is nothing they can do to me.” She jerked my arm up higher. “If they hurt me, they hurt you and vice versa, vampire.” She tossed my hand away from hers suddenly and abruptly, as if it disgusted her. “That, I think, will keep them from doing anything stupid.”

“Why me?” I asked.

“Because,” she tilted her head, “she values you.”

“Iliaria?” I asked. “Why do you despise her?”

Morina smiled sweetly, unnervingly. It didn’t match the look of hatred in her crimson eye. “That’s a story for another night,
love
.” She lowered herself, putting her face close to me. I didn’t give ground, forcing myself not to reveal my fear and disgust. “Now, while you’re in my keep, you’ll behave, won’t you? I’m showing you courtesy. The room is nice, is it not?” She touched my hair, petting me in an idle manner that set my skin to crawling. I bit my tongue and shut my eyes, trying to block out the sight of her. But she continued to pet me, stroking the curls of hair back from my face. “If you try to flee, I will find you. If you try to contact Iliaria, I will know. I will not be as courteous if you fail to heed my words.”

Gratefully, she stepped away from me and motioned to the room. “You are free to explore, so long as you remain within the walls of this castle. I will only give you that warning, vampire. Do not displease me. This is a paradise compared to what lies in store for you if you disobey.”

And with that, she left, leaving me alone with a wave of anxiety that threatened to spill in tears from my eyes.

Don’t, Piph,
Cuinn’s voice whispered soothingly.
It’s not worth crying about.

But it was too late. I stifled a sob and buried my face in the pillow to keep from making any noise. The last thing I wanted Morina to know was that she had the power to upset me, but I couldn’t stop the overwhelming flood of dismay that came over me.

I thought of the others and wept.

*

In the days that followed, there wasn’t much to do. I had learned to live without certain luxuries among the Rosso Lussuria, but I had never really reckoned how blessed I was living in Renata’s kingdom. Being trapped in Morina’s prison made me aware of the small blessings the Sotto provided. Sitting in my chambers in Morina’s castle, I found myself wondering if I would slowly be driven mad by sheer boredom.

Cuinn tried to keep me company and did his best to keep me distracted. He attempted to strike up conversations with me, but more often than not, I found myself at a loss for words and not in the mood to converse. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts, and when Cuinn figured that out, he left me with them.

For the most part, Morina had become completely standoffish. She entered my chambers only to provide me with enough sustenance to keep me alive. She brought her freshly spilled blood in an ornate chalice studded with rubies. She had not offered me her blood directly from her wrist since the night she had taken me. Strangely, she didn’t seem keen on the idea of touching me again. For that, I was thankful; for she no longer sought to stroke me as some stray animal she had found and decided to keep. On the other hand, her increasingly cold demeanor left me feeling more and more the prisoner I was.

We talked, sometimes. Though when I tried to engage her in conversation, she spoke as little as possible.

“What day is it?” I asked.

“It does not matter.”

And since she wouldn’t tell me, I found other ways to keep track of the time that passed, marking the wall beside my bed with ash from the fireplace. I hid the markings behind the spill of the heavy draperies.

Wherever I was being held, the sun did not seem to rise here. Not once did I feel its pull beyond the shielding power of the ring. The only way I could surmise that a day had indeed gone by was when Morina came with her blood.

Three days passed, and even though she had given me permission to explore, I didn’t have any desire to do so. It was as if, by exploring my
cage
, I was more a prisoner somehow.

On the fourth day, the boredom broke my resolve. I paced my chambers, catching glimpses of my disheveled and unkempt hair in the mirror. I wanted a change of clothes and a bath. It’d been too long since I’d had either.

I slipped from my room and walked around a banister at the top of the stairwell. I could smell a fire burning from somewhere downstairs and took the stairs as carefully and quietly as I could.

If Morina had brought me to a castle, it was not a very large one by any means. There were no great and spacious rooms. In fact, it appeared to be more of a castle-like country home than an actual medieval keep. No pictures or tapestries hung on the walls. No family crests indicated family history. The furnishings were minimal and dingy. The cold stone floor was bare of any carpets. The only decorative touches to the place were a few wall sconces used for lighting, and even those were drab.

I touched the rough wall, letting it slide beneath the tips of my fingers as I descended the stairs.

Laughter, love, joy…in the back of my mind I heard music, or perhaps, I felt it singing in my blood. I don’t know. The night seemed suddenly alive to my senses. I could smell the sweet and savory scent of meat roasting, could hear bubbling laughter ringing and pulsing like an echo in the stone. Once, this place had been someone’s home. The walls whispered memories of celebration and cheer.

And then my hand trembled lightly. In some part of me, I was aware I had stopped on the steps as I let my power find what it would.

The memories had their way with me, rolling ahead in time. A door crashed open, there were screams, and terror gripped my chest. I forced myself to stay focused, to not lose the threads of memory that came to me.

There was violence and bloodshed. The walls continued to whisper their secrets, and as much as I wanted to pull away, to stop them from telling me their tale, I did not.

A group of men had come seeking shelter from the rain and were turned away, so the bandits took the place by force.

Not just the home they had taken by force…the women…

I pulled my hand away, stifling a shudder of rage and disgust.

“What do they say, empath?” Morina stood at the foot of the stairs in a pair of dark breeches and flowing gray shirt.

“What did who say to me?” I asked, taking the last few steps.

Morina put her arm out to block my path. “The souls that linger here, vampire. What did they say to you?”