The Gathering Storm (40 page)

“For what purpose?” Danilo said through gritted teeth.

“Urgent matters of state.” George turned to me and offered his arm, which I took, gladly.

“This is an insult to my family. I will not allow this.” Danilo grabbed for me, his fangs visible.

But the grand duke was faster. He took my arm and swung me out of the crown prince’s reach. He threw a punch at Danilo’s jaw. The crown prince stepped out of the way just in time.

I was too scared to scream.

I looked around the room wildly as the two princes scuffled. George had managed to land a blow somehow, as I noticed Danilo’s lip bleeding. I saw the Oriental vase in the curio cabinet wobble as Danilo shoved George into the wall. I ran to catch the vase before it tumbled off the shelf, and turned around to hit it over Danilo’s head.

Something sharp poked me in the back. “Don’t even think about it.” Elena’s voice behind me was menacing. “Tell the grand duke to leave, or I will kill you, Katerina Alexandrovna.”

I tried to twist away from her, but she held me by the hair. I let out an unladylike yelp.

Just then, Danilo punched the grand duke in the stomach and he staggered back into the wall. George slid to the floor, dazed.

“No!” I cried, trying to break free. Elena pulled me back, pressing the blade a little deeper.

Danilo turned toward me, his eyes darkening and his fangs growing longer. I couldn’t let him have my blood. He would have the power to kill the grand duke. Or worse.

“Your Imperial Highness!” I pleaded. “Get up!” He was still conscious and trying to regain his bearings.

We had to get out of there. I kicked backward at Elena’s
shins and she let me go. “Bitch!” she screamed. I pulled away before she could reach me again.

“He cannot help you now,” Danilo said. He laughed as he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me close. His breath was warm on my neck. “You belong to me, Katerina.”

“No, she does not,” George Alexandrovich said grimly, throwing a punch that struck Danilo in the jaw. He let go of me and fell back.

Elena screamed and jumped at the grand duke with her dagger, but I snatched the back of her dress, causing her to stumble. She dropped her blade. I kicked it across the floor and the grand duke picked it up.

“Now,” he said, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. “I am taking the Duchess of Oldenburg to the tsar. And there will be hell to pay if anyone makes another attempt to stop me.” He offered his arm to me. “Your Highness.”

I felt a little giddy. He
had
come to my rescue. Even if it was only because the tsar needed me. We stepped over the Montenegrin siblings and ran out the door.

Right into my father.

“Katiya! Where have you been? Your mother has been frantic since you disappeared with the crown prince.”

“She is safe, Your Highness,” the grand duke said. “We have no time to explain, but the tsar is waiting for her.”

“The tsar?” Papa asked. “Whatever for?”

“The bogatyr must be summoned.”

“The bogatyr?” Papa asked. “But what does this have to do with Katiya?”

“She is the only one who can perform the necessary ritual.” The grand duke turned to me. “We must hurry.”

I saw fleeting bewilderment on my father’s face. But he was a clever man. He knew what the grand duke meant. “Go, quickly, Katiya,” he said. “We will have much to talk about when this is over.”

“Please take Maman to the grand duchess Miechen at once, Papa. She is in danger of losing the twins.”

“
Mon Dieu
. I will see that your mother attends her immediately. And that the doctor has been sent for.”

The grand duke helped me into the carriage. He scowled silently as we rode off across the park. The chapel was only a short ride from the main palace.

“Were you hurt badly?” I asked him.

“I’m fine, Duchess.”

More scowling silence.

I sank back into my seat, folding my arms. “I’m fine too, thank you ever so kindly for asking.”

He grunted. “Were you really planning to marry that creature?”

“They said they would hurt my family! My brother.” I risked a glance at him. “Even you.”

The grand duke seemed to relax slightly. He reached over and touched my cheek. I felt dizzy as my world tilted a little bit. “Katiya, they cannot harm your family. Or me. Please believe that. You need never fear them again.” He turned his attention back to the road ahead. “Once Konstantin
and his army are defeated, the tsar will have nothing more to do with the Montenegrin king.”

But how could he be right? There was a horrible bond now between me and the crown prince. I was afraid I’d never be safe from the Montenegrins.

M
embers of the Order were stationed around the Gothic Chapel. We were met at the chapel entrance by the tsarevitch. “Georgi! Thank goodness!” he said. “We must hurry.”

I took a step back, startled to see the silvery white wolf sitting quietly by the tsarevitch.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” he asked. “It just showed up this evening. It won’t come inside the chapel, but it won’t leave either.”

The Gothic Chapel was a tiny square building with beautiful rose windows on each side. This was the imperial family’s private chapel when they stayed at Peterhof.

Inside, the empress stood next to her husband in the chapel hall, smiling tightly. “Katerina Alexandrovna,” she addressed me. I knew she was terrified for her husband.

I curtsied low. “Your Imperial Majesties.” I forced myself to look up into my sovereign’s eyes.

The tsar stared at me hard. Even seated in an ordinary wooden chair, he seemed majestic. When he stood up and towered over me, I thought my heart would burst in fright. There was a reason he was called Sasha the Bear by the Dark Court. “The time has come for you to accept your responsibilities as a princess of the imperial blood,” he said. “Although your family belongs to the Dark Court, you still owe your allegiance to me, your tsar.”

“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” I whispered.

“A necromancer is the only one able to summon the bogatyr when Russia has need of him. My son tells me you have the dark gift.”

I glanced at the grand duke, whose face betrayed nothing. “I have the gift—or curse,” I said. “But I do not know the ritual.”

“The patriarch will instruct you,” the tsar answered.

It was almost like the ascension ritual of the Montenegrin Vladiki. Three priests stood chanting in front of the icon-covered doors. Only they wore white robes, with golden embroidery, instead of black ones. Incense burned, creating a smoky haze.

A heavy wooden chest was carried into the chapel by two young pages.

I was sprinkled with holy water, then anointed with oil as the patriarch chanted prayers over me. He did the same with the tsar and his sons, only the prayers for them were much longer. The tsar, who had been kneeling, stood up stiffly. The empress discreetly assisted him.

The young pages opened the chest and the patriarch
lifted out a bundle wrapped in linen. Inside the linen was a jeweled medallion.

I shuddered. Another talisman.

The patriarch’s voice boomed across the chapel. “Katerina Alexandrovna, walker among the paths of the dead, place your left hand upon the amulet of His Imperial Majesty the tsar Pavel and place your right hand in the hand of His Imperial Majesty the Sovereign Emperor, Alexander Alexandrovich.”

It was the same medal, a Maltese Cross, the symbol of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, that I’d seen in the portrait of Tsar Pavel. Trying not to shake or tremble, I did as the patriarch instructed. I felt a tingling as something cold flowed through me from the amulet into the tsar’s hand. But I was thankful this ritual did not require my blood.

The tsar let out a roar as the cold hit him. I cringed, and tried to break off but the tsar gripped my hand tightly. He appeared to grow two feet taller, looking even more like a bear than ever.

When the summoning was complete, he finally let go of my hand. I stumbled back into the grand duke, who put out his hands to steady me.

The tsarevitch handed his father a large sword that looked very old. And very deadly.

The heavy wooden doors to the chapel burst open. A bitterly cold wind blew in, extinguishing all the candles.

The patriarch continued his chanting. The other priests rang bells and sprinkled more holy water on the tsar, now imbued with the spirit of the bogatyr.

Making the sign of the cross, the patriarch stepped back. A holy light blazed within the tsar’s eyes. I dropped to my knees, bowing my head, as he strode past me.

The bogatyr stormed out of the chapel, his voice booming across the gardens. “Konstantin Pavlovich!” he bellowed. “You are no longer welcome in Russia!”

Grand Duke George Alexandrovich helped me stand before joining his father and brother. The light burned in his eyes as well. A holy light I never wanted to taint with my curse. I hurried after them to the arched doorway and looked out.

Konstantin the Deathless stood unnaturally tall, like the bogatyr. Closing in behind him were the undead knights of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem. The Dekebristi. Johanna’s last gift for her vampire lover.

Konstantin had been a short, ugly man in his time. Death, and undeath, had not been kind to his body either. “Alexander Alexandrovich, stand down, or you and your sons will die horribly,” he warned. “As did your guards.”

“
Mon Dieu!
” I whispered. Could it be that every last one of the tsar’s men who had been guarding the chapel had been killed?

“Your Imperial Majesty! We come to serve you!” the Montenegrin king shouted as he ran toward us. He had arrived in a carriage with Danilo. Queen Milena stepped out of the carriage after them, looking pale, with a bandage wrapped around her neck. She had been fed upon. No doubt by both father and son.

I did not see Militza, who must have been using all her shaky new influence to keep the vampires out of the fight.
Or perhaps she feared losing control of them if they saw Konstantin.

The tsar barely acknowledged the Montenegrin king, who took a position safe behind his wife. The tsar raised his sword high and glared at Konstantin the Deathless. “No blood drinker will ever sit on the throne of Russia,” he declared.

The tsarevitch and the grand duke held their swords ready. I was frightened for them as well. The silver wolf kept close to the tsarevitch, fangs bared.

Danilo stood smiling, an evil gleam in his eye. He did not bother to raise his sword as an undead soldier advanced toward him.

Queen Milena muttered some kind of incantation under her breath and the undead soldier fell to the ground, motionless. The queen turned toward me with a vicious smile. I knew no incantations to fight with. Except the spell of shadows. My gift of necromancy would be no help on this battlefield. I shuddered.

A low rumble alerted me that we were about to have company. The undead soldiers were closing in on us. “George!” I shouted, praying that protocol infractions were forgivable in the middle of a life-or-death battle. “The undead!”

The undead soldiers trampled toward us. I wanted to cry when I saw the poor creatures, but I knew they shared no such human compassion. They were intent on feeding and were under the control of the false tsar.