Lost Kingdom: The Darkfell Vampire Clan : 3 Page 2
Hugh Cormier loaned me the money for this ridiculous ball, and given the dire straits of the kingdom, I should have refused him. “Tonight is a mistake,” I said for the hundredth time. “I should have told Hugh no way.”
“He would've been offended if you hadn't accepted his offer. As your chancellor, he knows how important it is to put on a show for the royalty. This is a strategic move, Fina. Holding an official coronation event is a mainstay in vampire society. We’ll use tonight to our advantage.”
Cyrus wasn’t just a pretty face. He was ruthless, especially when it came to court games. He knew vampire politics better than anyone—except perhaps Deston. Cyrus understood the power dynamics and how to use them to our advantage, which was why he was escorting me tonight.
“Still, we shouldn't be spending money we don’t have,” I said firmly.
Ever since I’d set foot in my new world, the sheer amount of wealth vampires possessed was mind-boggling. I guess when you lived ten lifetimes, you couldn’t help but accumulate money. Maybe the dollars multiplied on their own, who knew?
Not me.
I'd grown up dirt poor, with Mom and Gram both working part-time jobs to keep us afloat while we moved around, trying to stay one step ahead of Viktor's huntsmen.
Frugality was a lesson that stuck.
A handful of months ago, I'd been a broke college student, surviving on student loans and scholarships. This morning, I signed off on spending a hundred thousand on flowers, and the financial whiplash made my head hurt.
Now Gram and Mom were gone, and I had a society of almost thirty-five thousand vampires who looked to me for leadership. Basically, I was in charge of a small town.
“Ready to go home?” I nodded and stepped into Cyrus's waiting arms, and a second later, we reappeared in the grand entrance of the royal palace.
Speaking of ridiculous, this place was insane.
Every time I stepped over this threshold, I had conflicting feelings. The palace was a haunted mausoleum, had been painted in blood more times than I knew, and surrounded by an omnipresent aura of evil dread, kind of like supernatural radon.
On the other hand…
I’d never had a real home before. So, despite the obvious drawbacks, I’d begun thinking of the palace as mine.
The second we were through the front doors, Cyrus pressed me up against the wall while I squirmed to get away. “There are tons of people around, Cyrus. Let me go.”
“You’re their Queen, Fina. This is your palace. You can do whatever you want.” Despite my protests, I sagged against him, my body wanting more. We’d done little more than fall into bed exhausted every night, and I missed our romps. Something we had to remedy.
Soon.
“I expect the first dance tonight, my Queen.” He nibbled my lips open, and I happily obliged. “No whining about a bum leg, though I know you’ve considered it. I plan on whirling you across that dance floor, for all the world to see.”
My palms went instantly sweaty; my feet grew three times bigger.
“You can whirl me all you want, but I’m warning you right now, I have two left feet. So, good luck with that.” Dear God, just when I thought the day wouldn't get any worse, I had to dance. In a dress. In front of people.
Cue anxiety attack.
“I cannot wait to have you in my arms and show you off. Then you can sleep in as late as you want tomorrow.” His tongue slid between my lips, and I fell into the kiss. I’d missed this, and Cyrus was the world’s best kisser. He tasted heavenly.
“I'll be back in the dungeons, playing exterminator, while you laze away in bed.”
“I'll go with you,” I offered quickly, wondering how twisted it was that I’d rather be a hundred feet underground facing malevolent creatures than dancing publicly for the first time
“Seraphina. It won’t be that bad,” Cyrus placated, while he eased a bit of his soothing magic into me. My body relaxed so much he gripped my waist to hold me up. I stopped him.
“While I appreciate the effort, I need to be on my toes tonight, Cyrus.” I kissed him softly, letting my lips linger on his, wishing we had more time. “Especially since half these vampires want me dead.”
Regretfully, I put my palm over his thumping heart. “That means no more of your magic Xanax.” I waggled by eyebrows at him. “On the other hand, keep it up and knock me out completely before the ball starts. I'd be down for that.”
“And miss all the fun?” His eyes softened. “Luthor and I will be by your side all night. I promise, you only have to talk to half the horrible people in attendance.”
“Make it none, and you totally have a deal.”
2
Seraphina
Experimentally, I lifted the skirt of the dress Tessa had picked for me tonight, and the light-as-air tulle slowly floated back down, leaving behind a shimmer in the air.
“Isn’t it amazing? The fabric’s imbued with an enchantment spell,” she explained excitedly, and we both watched the sparkling fabric shift in the light.
For my first ever event, she’d dressed me in twinkling stars and the night sky, the magic leaving behind a glimmer of stardust every time I moved. The top of the dress was molded armor, midnight black metal that followed the curves of my body as if it was painted on. The light-as-air skirt was floor length, and I looked like I was floating.
Tessa had slicked my hair back tightly before it exploded into a long cascade of dark curls, painted my eyes black, and my lips brilliant red.
I looked powerful.
I looked wicked.
I looked nothing like myself.
Which was the only reason I had the courage to walk down the steps and face these awful people tonight. Prove to them I was their Queen. That I deserved the throne.
“I covered up the mark on your nose. I cannot believe that happened on such an important day,” my friend lectured sternly before she stepped back, looked me over in approval. “You are a proper queen,” Tessa assured me, her eyes glittering with tears. “Oh Fina, you look perfect.”
I wasn’t perfect, but I felt merciless enough to face the throng of adversaries.
“Tonight’s ball will be a success.” Tessa’s endless optimism, which was usually contagious, slid off me like butter. “You’ll find more allies, and your enemies can fuck right off.”
I was pretty sure tonight would be a qualified disaster, but I kept my opinions to myself.
She was so happy about this ball.
I was terrified.
What I’m feeling is just simple social anxiety, I reassured myself. That's all this is.
Not because I’d had such terrible dreams.
Not because something awful loomed on the horizon.
I met Tessa's blue eyes in the mirror, which flashed with worry. “Fina…. Don’t you like the dress? We can change it,” she said quickly. “Or your makeup, or your hair?”
“I'm just surprised.” I spun, scattering glittering stars around the room. “I had no idea I could look like this. Thanks, Tessa, I owe you. You accomplished the impossible.”
Her smile returned in spades. “I keep telling you… stop wearing tennis shoes and hoodies if you want to be taken seriously. You’re a vampire now.” She took my hands. “A queen. You have to dress like one.”
She pulled out a clip and pinned one of my curls higher. “I know you don't like this fuss, Seraphina. But royal balls are like battlefields. You’re waging war tonight, whether you want to or not. This is the best armor I can give you.”
She stepped back, then nodded in approval. “They expect a young, untried queen. You give them something to fear.”
When I heard the low whistle of approval from behind me, my face heated. When I shifted my eyes to Cyrus, though, I was every bit as appreciative.
“You clean up pretty good, Lord Rayne.”
“That’s Second Commander Rayne, my Queen.” His confident swagger only s
howed off the perfect fit of his tuxedo, the size of those broad shoulders. His hungry gaze ate me up, sparks of silver gilding his green eyes, and heat rocketed through me, despite my nerves.
His gleaming blonde hair was pulled back with a leather band, the tail long enough to curl down between his shoulders. Cyrus wasn’t huge like Luthor, but lean like a tiger, moving with the lethal grace of a predator.
Dressed in Tom Ford’s finest.
With one hand, Cyrus tugged my head back, splayed the other on my chin, and with a growl, tipped my mouth up to his. I vaguely heard Tessa’s quiet good luck before she closed the door.
Cyrus’s eyes were quicksilver when he pulled back, his fangs touching his bottom lip, stained red by my lipstick. “You have no idea how much I’ll enjoy stripping this dress off you tonight. But keep the hair.” He pulled down a curl, wound it around his finger. “I like it.”
“Looking forward to it,” I murmured. “It’s been too long since we were together. At least, doing something besides sleeping.” Eyeing his lipstick-stained mouth, I touched my lips. “I have to put lipstick on again, don’t I?”
“It was worth it.”
I rubbed his bottom lip clean and applied another layer to my own. The blood-red shade was something I never would've worn, but for tonight, I would take Tessa's advice. I needed every bit of help I could get.
This was my chance to prove I was up to this.
Prove to Luthor, to Cyrus—to myself and everyone else—I was queen material.
Cyrus offered me his arm. “I have been looking forward to this for months,” he whispered sheepishly. “And you were close. I ordered this tux three weeks ago.”
“Totally called it.” I punched him in the arm. “But you look amazing.” We descended the stairs, and I kept my chin lifted, just as Tessa instructed. Look over their heads, Seraphina. Not at their faces. Make them work for your attention.
I hated putting on a show for these pompous monsters.
But a grand entrance was what they expected. A heartless Queen, ready to spill their blood if any of them so much as stepped out of line.
After recent events, I was perfectly willing to play along with that illusion.
With every step we descended, the air grew heavier with tension and anticipation. The vampires gathered below us were more like a pit of vipers than cultured royalty. All of them hissing behind their perfect manners, looking for an opportunity to dart their head out and bite.
None of them wanted me on that throne.
To them, I was a fraud, a young Queen with no allies and a bloodline that was eradicated a hundred years ago. Each and every one of them wanted to see me fail.
Some of them wanted me dead.
Cyrus glided like a cat down the stairs, with a predatory grace that was as dangerous as it was effortless. Beside him, I felt like the clumsiest woman on the planet, especially in these heels.
Like we’d practiced, we stopped on the middle step and waved.
“Stop worrying, Seraphina.” His soft breath heated my ear. “You're the most beautiful woman here.” He indicated the rapt crowd below. “None of these soulless bloodsuckers hold a candle to you. None of them ever will.”
He covered my hand with his own. A trace of his magic trickled into me, instantly relaxing me.
“You rule these people. Make them believe it.”
I tipped my head higher, willing myself to become the Queen everyone else thought I was.
At the bottom, the crowd parted, opening an aisle to the throne room where the walls of gold-framed mirrors reflected the frescoes overhead, the sparkling chandeliers, the pillars of fresh flowers that scented the air with their heady perfume.
Once, Deston had conjured up this place for me, as part of a training exercise. I’d killed King Viktor in this very room, using magic and my wits and nothing else. For a month, I’d sat on the throne, listening to disagreements and signing paperwork.
But nothing prepared me to walk down this gilded concourse, every eye in the room following my progress with hatred and jealousy.
This is makes it official. After months of this being some far-off dream, I was about to become Queen, and the closer I got, the more the throne looked like an electric chair.
I held my head higher, staring that fucker down. The crushing responsibility that came with the title made my stomach churn with nerves. I never asked for this life, but here I was, and I meant to demonstrate I was the rightful Queen.
Luthor waited on the dais.
Otherworldly blue eyes glowed with approval in his expressionless face, his brown and silver hair pulled tightly back. His wide shoulders stretched the uniform tight across his back, narrowing down into a trim waist and powerful legs. He took my breath away.
Beside him, the black, glittering crown was set with thousands upon thousands of diamonds in black gunmetal, the crown itself topped off by eight sharp spikes, one for each royal house. Every spike was tipped with a razor-sharp diamond. The thing was breathtaking. And deadly.
The crown had once belonged to Lyra and now was mine.
I’d reduced Viktor's crown to ash, along with what remained of his body. Just to be sure.
Keeping my back rigid, I climbed the steps before Cyrus made a great show of lowering me into the throne. We’d practiced this so many times, muscle memory took over. “Give them hell,” he said, then stepped back as Hugh Cormier took his place beside me.
“For the first time in two hundred years, the Clan Darkfell crowns a new queen.”
I stared straight down the empty concourse, sensing their spite. Their hate. Their envy. “Tradition dictates our Queen bleeds for her kingdom.” His voice rang hollowly off the ostentatious surroundings as he handed me a dagger.
I kept my face straight as I drew the blade across one palm, then the other. I grasped the arms of the throne, curling my hands over the heads of the fantastical beasts carved into the chair. Red blood dribbled over their faces, down along their scaled bodies, over the sharp claws. Once it pooled at my feet, only then did I allow my wounds to heal.
Hugh placed the crown on my head. It was heavy, the edges cutting into my scalp, and I cast a sliver of magic around my head to relieve the pressure.
“Our clan’s roots go back to the beginning of time, to when our race was founded. There is no responsibility greater than the Queen’s.”
Hugh surveyed the crowd’s cold, unsmiling faces. “Seraphina Marvelle, do you swear to protect your people from all threats, no matter the cost?”
“I do.”
“Do you swear to hold to vampire law and enforce our rules?”
“I do.”
“You have sworn the oaths and bled for your kingdom.” Hugh stepped back. “I declare Seraphina Marvelle our rightful Queen.” On cue, I wrapped myself in Luthor’s magic, the shadows blending with the otherworldly skirt of my star-dusted dress.
My shadows crawled down the stairs, across the floor of the center concourse. Small tendrils of darkness skimmed over the top of pointed stilettos and handmade Italian shoes, brushed the hems of glittering gowns.
Some shifted back a step; others stayed right where they were.
No one said a word until someone began clapping from the back, the slow, mocking sound causing everyone to turn.
One of the Dubois twins shouldered through the crowd, and vampires scattered away from his progress until he stopped in front of me.
“Queen Seraphina. Let me be the first to congratulate you. May your reign be long.” Octavio’s shallow nod, just short of a bow, was just respectful enough to pass.
The look of sheer loathing that he shot toward Tessa and the Cormiers was not.
I’d already refused Octavio and Brooks Dubois for my court. They’d insinuated I was young and weak and unfit to rule. They could say whatever they wanted about me, but nobody insulted my friends.
My first test as Queen was here, and I’d be doing this on an empty stomach.
Hunger made me cranky.
&
nbsp; As this pompous asshole was about to find out.
3
Cyrus
That little fucker.
It took everything I had to remain still when Octavio insulted Seraphina, then thought he could turn his back to my Queen without consequences. Ripping Dubois’s head from his shoulders would make a bold statement, but retribution wasn’t my statement to make.
It was Seraphina’s.
Rage turned to delight when Dubois's thin shoulders stiffened beneath his tailored jacket, and he froze in his tracks. He and his brother were fools, but tonight, they’d find themselves outmatched.
Satisfaction rippled through me when the tendril of Seraphina's magic tightened around his throat like a serpent. Royals backed away, spilling champagne in the process. While I could only guess what he was thinking, I knew he’d heard the rumors. They all had because I’d planted them.
She flayed the flesh from the King and melted him from the inside out.
She can call up the dead.
Octavio had made a grave error insulting Seraphina. Instead of getting an untried queen, he’d get a powerful female who’d killed revenants, survived an attack of dragon-fire, had taken on the most powerful queen of our kind and survived. Part of me would love to watch her flay Octavio like she’d done Viktor.
But we’d already decided, no one would die tonight.
While there’d be no public executions, they were fools to underestimate her. Fools to throw down the gauntlet so soon. Octavio should have waited before he made his move.
But Octavio was an impatient fool and would make a good example.
I couldn’t help myself. I whispered in Seraphina's ear, “Lucky for us, Octavio is as bad at judging character as he is at cards.”
Her red lips curved upward, banked fire glowing in her golden eyes, that wicked, fanged crown on her head. If Seraphina only knew how she looked. Not a girl playing a part, but a woman who would bend this kingdom to her will, even if she had to break a few things to get there.
Seraphina forced Octavio around to face her.