Page 53 of Light Fae's Love
And that perhaps he will find the Dark Haven of Florence not so easy to take over—especially not if I have anything to say about it.
“Most cherished Vampire Council of Rome. Thank you for granting me an audience before you tonight,” Quinn demonstrates his smoothest grace as he gives his best fellow-well-met smile, opening a hand as if he truly is grateful they’ve invited him here.
He’s not, but he needs to be magnanimous because he still wants to claim a seat among them. I’m not so sure, however, as I see the features of the Council members in the darkness where they sit in shadows behind the torchlight. Some of them are so old and decrepit, they look like Nosferatu, as my gaze travels over them.
But like Florian, some are hale and well, young as Quinn.
“We have Summoned you before us tonight, young Master,” an ancient Master says now as he rises from his seat, moving into the torchlight, “because you have boasted of being able to return Vampire Revenants with your power, and the power you now possess Kissed to your Dark Fae. We would like to see this power in evidence. For it intrigues us very much.”
They’re decent enough words from this Council member, a tall, gaunt man with a balding pate and long, curling wisps of hair at the margins. He has a craggy face and folds his hands before him like he was once a monk; something about him remains monkish, and I half expect to see a rosary dangling from his robe’s belt, though there is none.
“Thank you, Master Parnassos of Meteora.” Quinn is peaceable, nodding to the man who I feel is not his enemy—and might even be an ally if Quinn could gain the Council’s ear. “But it is no boast; I have indeed captured a Revenant in a box of my design, twice, and returned them to body and sanity both times. The box in question is being shipped down from Florence today and should be here soon, if you would like to examine it.”
“We are interested in your capturing device, yes. We are more interested in the magic that powers it, however, and returns the Revenants to themselves—your power, Quinn. Unless you are lying?” Another voice speaks now as a woman rises, stepping forward to stand beside the gaunt man. Short and buxom, she’s stunning as she smiles at us, flicking long honey-blonde hair back over her robe. She’s wearing her robe open, showing a smart pink and white designer pantsuit with matching heels, a gold filigreed necklace with a massive diamond nestled between her breasts. Her eyes are a blue so light I wonder if they’re even blue at all.
Her attention pins us like knives, however, despite her pleasantly delivered words. I feel like she could flay me as soon as look at me, as if that is one of her powers.
“Mistress Elena Iliescu of Romania.” Quinn has an edge to his voice now, as if this woman is not his ally. “I would be happy to give the Council the demonstration they seek, and show them I am not lying.”
“We know you’re not lying, Quinn. You’re not even sweating an ounce,” Florian says. He gives a chuckle, though rage is in his green eyes now as he pins Quinn. I feel another thought from him then, that he’s furious Quinn’s being so charming with the Council today, and so calm despite being nearly dead earlier.
Clearly, you underestimate Quinn’s patience with assholes. I think to Florian, again focusing as much as I can.
His green eyes flick to me—pinning me hard yet again.
“Very well. Let us wrap this up,” an exceedingly ancient member of the Council says now, standing up near the middle of the thrones. A tall, lean black man with skin so dark it shines in the torchlight, he steps forward. His eyes are chartreuse, a color I’ve never heard of or seen on any Twilight Lineage. I don’t know what kind of creature he was before he was Vampire, but power boils off him like a hurricane, though he does nothing but stand there.
“All in favor of having Master Quindici DaPonti and his Dark Fae present their Revenant-returning demonstration before us in three days’ time?”
Hands go up all down the line. Only one doesn’t, a Master I can’t see in the shadows, though from her slender build she seems female, and I wonder if the Wanderer is in attendance tonight. But again, I don’t know if these are all the Council members, or just a preparatory gauntlet for Quinn to go through.
They probably agreed on this Summons well in advance and already knew how they were going to decide tonight.
“Master Quindici DaPonti,” the tall black man says now, pinning Quinn with his strange, vibrant gaze, “You will appear before the full Council in three days’ time, one hour after sunset, to present your Revenant-returning contraption and abilities. If you achieve success, you will be allowed a series of visits with this Council, to argue for your Sire’s seat among us. If you fail at your demonstration, or fail to come in three days, we will support Master Florian Delano of Monaco and the Council in annexing the Dark Haven of Florence. And your additional smaller associate Dark Haven at Pisa. You have three days to prepare. Use it wisely.”
As the man gives Quinn a nod, the rest of the Council does as well. As one, those who stood return to their black thrones, though Florian gives Quinn a nasty little smile. I’m certain who was behind that last bit about annexing Florence as Quinn and Florian share a long glance. Hate burns in Quinn’s eyes now, though he only gives Florian a cordial nod.
Triumph sears in Florian’s gaze, as if he knows Quinn can’t do what the Council’s asking. Doubt takes him, though, as he glances at me.
That’s right, fuckface. I send the thought viciously, putting my everything behind it. You think you’re coming for us. But really, we’re coming… for you.
Shock lifts Florian’s blond eyebrows just for a moment. Something inside me feels vindicated as Quinn turns and escorts me out.
Though we still have no idea what we’ll do in three days.
Or if we’ll be strong enough by then to do it.
21
TRAP
Back at Arturos’ manor, Quinn, Arturos, and I stand before Quinn’s Florentine Box, delivered off a truck this afternoon to Arturos’ circular drive. The last evening sunlight sparkles off its silver bars as the containment runes written upon them shine subtly. Its blue velvet drapes are open, and it looks like a cage meant to trap a lion or a rhinoceros for the 1900 Paris world’s fair, or a Barnum & Bailey circus spectacle.
Monstrous in its Victorian elegance.
As Quinn and I stand before it, both dressed now after sleeping all day, yet still feeling like shit, I note the Revenant-containing box is enormous. We’re supposed to go out hunting a Revenant tonight, because part of the deal with the Vampire Council is that we have to trap one before returning it to its sanity and flesh.
We have to get one first, though. And I have no idea how we’re going to hunt a Revenant while lugging this massive thing around.