Read Summoning Shadows: A Rosso Lussuria Vampire Novel Online
Authors: Winter Pennington
“You were the only one that knew!” Morina said and her voice was raw and unstrung. It pained me to hear it. “I trusted you. You were my friend,” she said a bit more calmly as she tried to rein in her emotions. “I trusted you and you betrayed me.”
“No,” Iliaria said. “I give you my oath and I would have given it then had you not attacked me like a rabid beast in your grieving. I have never betrayed your trust, Morina. In the entire time we have known each other, I have not betrayed it, not once.”
Even without the gift of empathy, I would have been able to tell that what Iliaria said was the truth. The surety of it was there in her expression, in the patient confidence of her stance. I didn’t think she felt compassion for Morina’s troubles, not exactly, but the bonds of old friendship made the situation complicated. As was everything to do with Morina.
“I would’ve helped you find the true traitor, Morina, had you not been so hasty to condemn me.”
Morina rushed her then, a blur of onyx attire and ivory skin. She pushed Iliaria up against the wall and Iliaria didn’t try to protect herself. She appeared unperturbed by Morina’s attack.
“You know I didn’t do it,” she said slowly, as if she were trying to talk a madwoman from the ledge of her madness.
Morina growled and leaned in close. “You were the only one that knew.”
“Can you give your oath on that with absolute surety?” Iliaria asked. “I don’t think you can, Morina. You know as well as I how many of your cousin’s spies liked to linger.”
Morina growled but released her. Her tail whipped snake-like across the floor as she turned her back.
“Easy to blame my cousin when he is
your
enemy.”
“Damokles?” I asked. “Damokles is her cousin?”
Iliaria stepped away from the wall but kept a watchful eye on Morina. “Yes.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself.
Morina startled at my laughter before giving me a venomous glare.
“You think that is funny?”
“I think, lady, the fact that you would blame Iliaria for your lover’s death but not Damokles, well, it’s ridiculous, quite frankly. Did you not say once that he killed his own sister, Iliaria?”
“He did,” she said, “for bedding a vampire. He murdered her in her sleep.”
“The court never found any proof of that,” Morina said.
“No, they never found proof, but it is something the entire Regat knows, Morina. What happened when Andrella died? Who whispered in your ear that I had betrayed you? When you learned of her downfall?”
“Stefauni.”
The name fell like a rock between them. I half expected it to clink and bounce lightly on the bare floor.
“Your cousin’s closest ally,” Iliaria said. “You’ve always been too easy to blindside, Morina. As much as I cared about you, discerning deception has never been your strong suit.”
Morina made an expression as if she tasted something sour. “But it has been yours, Princess?”
Not only did Cuinn’s ears prick at the word, my attention did as well. “Printessa,” I said, “Princess.” I shook my head, mumbling more to myself than anyone else in the room. “I do not know why I did not draw the connection sooner.” I met Iliaria’s surreal gaze. “Does she speak truly?”
Morina smiled then like a cat that had finally cornered its prey. “She did not tell you?”
“She does not need to know, Morina.”
“That you stand in line to the Draculian throne? Oh, I think she does.”
I did wonder why Iliaria hadn’t told me. Yet, I also wondered what difference it would have made if she had. “I don’t expect her to tell me everything, Morina. If you think to ignite a lover’s quarrel between us, you won’t.”
Iliaria considered me. “You are not upset that I withheld information from you?”
I thought about it. “No,” I said. “You may not have bothered to tell me who you really are among the Dracule, but you never outright lied about it either, for I never asked.”
“Strange logic,” Morina said, “to find your lover and ally keeping such intimate secrets and not care.”
“Why should I give a fig?” I asked.
“Because,” Morina said and she moved toward me again, “how do you know she is not using you to climb to the throne, little vampire?”
“The same way she knows how to expose the truth, Great Dracule.” Cuinn got to his feet and came to stand beside me. “I think, Piph, it’s time to use your charms to see if she’s telling the truth.”
“What do you suggest, Cuinn?”
He canted his head slightly and gestured to Morina with his snout. “Use your power and the binds between you,” he said. “Those who have nothing to hide do not fear being exposed.”
“Hmm.” I touched his head, scratching idly behind his ear. “That’s not a bad idea, Cuinn. What say the two of you?”
“What are you asking, vampire?”
“Do you think you can control your power enough to do it?” Iliaria asked me.
“I’m fairly certain I can.”
“Then I will consent to it if it is the only way to prove my truth.”
“How do I know you will not bend the truth, vampire?” Morina must have understood what I was going to try to do, though she didn’t trust me enough to do it.
“Her power bends nothing, Dracule. It seeks and finds and brings things into the light; that is all.”
“Are you saying she can share our memories?”
“Aye,” Cuinn said. “That’s exactly what I’m saying she can do. How badly you want the truth or not depends on the two of you.”
Iliaria and Morina stared at one another for several long moments. Finally, Morina shook her head. “If you play me falsely, vampire…”
“I will not,” I said. “You have my word.”
Iliaria pushed away from the wall. “Let us do this thing and have no lies between us.”
“You seem quite eager for someone about to have themselves laid bare before a vampire’s eyes.”
Iliaria didn’t even bother to glance at her whilst she came to me. “I’ve laid myself open in other ways. I do not fear the truth.”
I took the hand she offered and held the other out to Morina. With some hesitation, she took it. The instant her bare skin touched mine, the power flared to life between the three of us, and I found myself caught between the two of them. Iliaria’s power rose around us like the wild night breeze. It tangled the curls of my hair. Morina’s power mingled with it and made it something more crisp and icy. At that small touch of power, my control tumbled away from me. Empathy opened me wide until I could feel it like a living thing in the center of my body. It called and drew and drank the energy around it. I sank to my knees, only vaguely aware that the others followed me. Iliaria’s grip tightened on my hand in a way that was almost painful.
“Focus, Epiphany.”
I tried to focus, but I couldn’t. Their energy overwhelmed me like a tidal wave that threatened to swallow me whole. Cuinn pressed his furred body against mine, and the wave receded enough that I could draw a ragged breath. I felt his paws at my shoulders a second before he laid his head in the bend of my neck, putting his fur against my bare skin. The storm stilled when Cuinn touched me.
“Now focus,” he said at my ear. “Focus on one of them and let your power take what it will.”
“Morina,” I said while Cuinn ground me.
Morina’s gaze met mine and she looked like a woman bespelled. She leaned toward me as if she couldn’t keep herself from swaying into the call of my power.
Her lips met mine and I had a moment to think that they were surprisingly soft and gentle before the memories came unbidden. They hit hard and fast, drowning out the room and the sensation of her silken lips.
Too quickly, her memories passed. Too quickly for me to see and understand. Cuinn’s voice flowed through my mind,
Slow ’em, Piph.
All it took was a thought and the memories slowed.
Morina passed through two incredibly tall doors and into a room lined with small orbs of light. A hundred Draculian eyes turned to look at her from their round tables as she approached. I only had a glimpse of them before Morina knelt before the Dracule that sat on the highest throne. The Draculian queen wore no crown to mark her status. Only a collar of sapphire and diamonds graced her black furred body. A silver chain swayed from the collar when she leaned forward, a tear-shaped diamond sparkling like a star against the blackness of her smooth stomach.
The queen turned her angular face and looked to the Dracule standing beside her. As soon as Morina turned to look at her, I knew it was Iliaria. They were harder to tell apart in Draculian form, despite their variety of colors. But even without Morina’s memories filling my head, I would have known her, would have recognized her by the way she moved as if the night itself had created her. There were subtle differences in facial structure and body that set the Dracule apart, but that special grace was Iliaria’s alone.
Iliaria moved down the dais when the queen dismissed her with a gesture. She stepped down to meet Morina with her wings drawn back behind her, revealing the dark glory of her body without shame. A chain much like the queen’s dangled at her hips. A smaller tear-cut diamond danced against the blackness of her left thigh.
I willed the memory to rush along and slowed it again when I saw Iliaria standing closer. The two stood on a balcony overlooking a dark and rocky landscape. I heard Morina tell Iliaria about Andrella as if the words had come from my own mouth. Iliaria listened, watchful and patient. Morina did not know what to do and she confided in Iliaria, telling her about Andrella wanting to leave her family to be with her.
“I cannot bring her back here,” Morina said.
Iliaria shook her head. Witch or no, it was too dangerous for Andrella to live among the Dracule. The only safe way for Morina to be with her was to leave. It wasn’t a response Morina liked, for Drahalia was her home and it was where she belonged. Morina was torn between her love of the witch and her loyalty to her homeland. If she left and the Regat knew, would she be able to return, or would she become an exile?
The vision sped along again and the perspective changed. I saw Morina then from Iliaria’s height, Morina in Draculian form, her fur like white snow with dustings of ash and coal at the tips of her ears, traveling down the slant of her nose and eyes like artful makeup. Her gaze was whole and unscarred, black with a tint of crimson when the moonlight caught it. Morina left when they were done speaking and I felt Iliaria’s concern and pity. She knew that if any of the others knew, it would put Andrella at risk. The possibility of their coupling being frowned upon was a high risk among the court nobles.
But Morina had made her decision. She would find another place to go with Andrella, even if she had to hide amongst the human world.
And Iliaria had made her own decision to keep Morina’s secret. Iliaria remained on the balcony for some time after their conversation until she was interrupted by the presence of another.
“Printessa.” The tall Dracule offered a slight bow as his ears swiveled flat against his dark skull. Something about the figure and his demeanor seemed familiar. At last, I recognized who the figure was before Iliaria addressed him.
“Tell my mother I’ll join her in a while, Anatharic.”
Anatharic bowed and disappeared beneath the archway he had come through. Again, the memories propelled forward in time. Iliaria dined with her mother, and when her mother inquired about what Morina had wanted, she made up some excuse about Morina seeking her hand. The queen seemed to believe it, as Iliaria had known she would, for most of the court thought them lovers anyhow. At one time, they had tried to be, until they had realized that though there was some love between them, their acts in the bedchamber were purely physical and not a romantic bond.
I came back to myself with Cuinn lying across one side of my body, his snout still buried in the bend of my neck. He got to his feet and moved away to give me room. Iliaria had pulled me into her lap and cradled my back against the front of her body.
“I can’t hold it anymore,” I said, feeling weightless and weak.
Morina released my hand.
“Just because you did not tell your mother does not mean you didn’t tell anyone else in the Regat,” Morina said.
“Surely,” I said, holding Iliaria’s arm around me, “if I could feel as well as see, you did too, and you know she didn’t tell anyone.”
Morina got to her feet and walked away to the far side of the room by the doors that led out onto the balcony, as if she wanted to put as much distance between us as she could.
“You have tasted my memories and still you call me a liar,” Iliaria said, her voice low and hurt. I touched her hand with mine. “Let her believe what she wants, then.” Iliaria helped me to my feet and I let her. “We have tried to show her truth. We can do no more than that.”
“A sad day when the truth is wasted for a cherished lie,” I said.
How could Morina not see the hurt she had caused in someone who had once considered her a friend?
Iliaria was still touching me and I caught a flash of Morina: Morina screaming, hurt and enraged, Morina challenging Iliaria before the court, Iliaria protecting herself, the crescent blades raised high as she drew one of them in a whirlwind of defense. Morina sank to the floor and shielded her eye with a hand. She screamed herself ragged in the memory, over and over, as if she would never stop.