The Eldritch Conspiracy (Blood Song) Read online

  how to get rid of him.

  Kevin gave a low growl, blocking the

  stairway.

  He knew. The wolf could

  sense what I wanted.

  I fought my inner bat for control and

  won, but it wasn’t easy. “I need …

  food.” The words sounded sort of

  strangled, my struggle reflected in my

  voice.

  “There’s a tray at the bottom of the

  stairs.” Emma stepped into view and

  patiently repeated what her brother had

  already said. “Kevin didn’t think it was

  a good idea for anyone to bring it up.”

  Kevin was so freaking right.

  He pushed Emma back. “Get away,

  Em. She’s right on the edge.” He looked

  up at me with an expression that mixed

  anger and respect. “I’ll be barricading

  the door.”

  I forced myself away from the half

  wall as he closed the door and locked it

  audibly—making it very clear that I

  would have to go through him to get to

  anyone in the room beyond. I flowed

  down the staircase to a tray that couldn’t

  possibly hold anything that would

  compare to what my body really

  wanted … needed at that moment.

  I guzzled the diet shake on the tray

  first, hoping it would take the edge off. It

  did, but not enough. My hands were still

  shaking hard enough that it was all I

  could do to get the lid off a jar of

  strained-beef baby food. I couldn’t seem

  to get the spoon into the jar. In the next

  instant I wrapped my lips around the

  opening and poured it into my mouth,

  sucking at the goopy contents and

  swallowing as fast as I could. I stabbed

  and slashed at the glass, feeling my fangs

  slide uselessly against the sides of the

  jar. Only then could I make my fingers

  work right. The shakes finally stopped

  after the second serving of baby food.

  By the time I finished the third—peaches

  —I was actually able to think clearly.

  I sat down on the bottom step,

  breathing hard, as if I’d been running.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  Slowly my brain started to focus. Had

  Kevin said video conference? I’d asked

  him to set one up, but hadn’t really

  thought he would. He’d been so damned

  uncooperative last night.

  I knocked gently at the door. I couldn’t

  smell him anymore, but I bet the wolf in

  him could smell me. Hopefully he’d

  realize that it was safe—that I was safe,

  now. He opened the door a crack and

  peered in at me, estimating the threat,

  while I squinted past him at the living

  room. My plain human vision showed

  me that he’d set up video equipment in

  the center of the main room. All right

  then.

  “I’m going to hit the bathroom and

  change so I look presentable for the

  camera.”

  He nodded, pleased that I didn’t press

  to go to the others right away. Vampires

  are tricky, so my backing down

  hopefully helped him realize I was

  probably back to normal. At least I

  thought I was.

  Bruno had brought the bag sitting at

  the bottom of the stairs. I could tell by

  what he’d packed—all things he could

  pick up at my office, including a change

  of clothes. He’d even brought my spare

  makeup kit, which I kept in my desk.

  Best of all, he’d brought weapons—not

  mine, he couldn’t have gotten into the

  safe, but a sweet little Glock with an

  ankle holster. And people wonder why I

  love him.

  Twenty minutes later, after a shower

  and makeup, I was fit to step in front of a

  camera. The front room was already

  buzzing, but I easily spotted Bruno, who

  looked like he’d been through the

  wringer. There were dark circles under

  his eyes, he had beard stubble, and his

  eyes had darkened to almost black, the

  way they do when he’s really, seriously

  angry. He smiled when he saw me,

  which softened the harsh lines of his

  face a little. But only a little, and only

  for a minute. He was wearing black

  jeans and a black Bayview college

  sweatshirt that had the sleeves chopped

  short and had a vertical slit cut in the

  neckline.

  “Morning, sunshine.” Bruno tried to

  shake off his weariness for my benefit.

  He came over to give me a hug and a

  quick kiss. “Mnn. You taste like

  peaches.” He licked his lips.

  “Baby food,” I admitted, giving him a

  quick squeeze. “Better than snacking on

  you guys. What’s up?” I asked. He shook

  his head. Apparently he didn’t want to

  talk about it, at least not in front of the

  others. Okay, we’ll go with a safe topic.

  “What have I missed?”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but

  didn’t get the chance as Dom Rizzoli

  tapped me on the shoulder. He’s the only

  FBI agent I know well enough to be

  friendly with. Short, dark, and as Italian

  as pasta, he was wearing his “fedley”

  suit: nice, dark gray suit coat and pants,

  white shirt, blue tie, and black shoes

  with a high gloss.

  “We’re on.”

  I didn’t want to leave Bruno’s side,

  but there was no arguing with Rizzoli

  when he used that tone. Besides, he was

  most likely in the thick of things, and I

  needed to know what was going on. So I

  gave my sweetie another hug and walked

  over to the video setup. Kevin pointed to

  a masking-tape X on the floor and I stood

  on it.

  “Good morning, Princess.” On the

  monitor in front of me, Hiwahiwa

  bowed at the waist. “It is good to see

  you well. Princess Adriana will be

  joining us in a moment.”

  I dipped my head and shoulders

  slightly in return. “And good morning to

  you.”

  “Hello, Celia.” King Dahlmar’s

  voice. The video screen in front of me

  now split into four sections. Hiwahiwa

  was in the upper left, Dahlmar in the

  lower right. I spotted Creede standing

  next to him. I hadn’t expected him to be

  there, but should have. After all, John

  Creede has saved the king’s tail more

  than once. It would make sense for the

  king to call on him for such a special

  occasion as his wedding.

  John’s a handsome man, with a strong

  jaw and good cheekbones. His eyes are

  the color of honey, his hair a warm light

  brown with golden highlights. He keeps

  it cut short, or it would fall in

  unmanageable and unmanly curls. His

  nose is sharp, not quite a beak, though

  there is something like a bird of prey

  about him.
/>   “Your Majesty. You look well.”

  He made a small scoffing sound that

  most kings wouldn’t be seen making.

  “My future wife was nearly killed. Her

  mother is in the hospital. My country is

  turmoil and terrorists are plotting.

  Hardly well, I’m afraid.”

  There wasn’t much to say to that, so I

  didn’t respond. Creede gave me a brief

  nod. His expression was odd. Part teeth-

  gritted anger; part sad, puppy-eye regret.

  He looked good, but like he’d already

  been through a long day. As usual, both

  he and the king were wearing splendid

  suits.

  I wasn’t thrilled at my own image, in

  the fourth segment of the screen. I didn’t

  look great. Nobody had mentioned it yet,

  but only because they were all too

  polite. If it’s true that television adds

  twenty pounds, I was in real trouble.

  I’ve been dropping weight for a while

  because of my nearly all-liquid diet and

  it was really starting to show. I’d gone

  from fashionable to gaunt in the last six

  weeks. But at least I was dressed in my

  own clothes, which mostly fit. For a

  moment I imagined what I’d look like in

  Emma’s duds—we are so not the same

  size or body type—and my stomach

  turned over.

  Before I could say anything, my image

  disappeared,

  replaced

  by

  Queen

  Lopaka’s. That made sense.

  She was propped up in the hospital

  bed. Standing on either side of her, out

  of the way of the medical equipment,

  was a pair of her personal guards,

  looking

  grim

  and

  determined.

  I

  understood the grim. I hope the full

  complement of four were in the room,

  two out of sight of the video camera. In

  the background, I caught a glimpse of the

  aquarium. A pair of angel fish floated

  next to a seahorse in the blue-tinted salt

  water, while a starfish crawled up the

  side wall.

  “Greetings, niece, Dahlmar, Mage

  Creede.” I noticed that she didn’t

  address Rusland’s ruler as “King.”

  Well, they were about to become family.

  First-name terms for her future son-in-

  law seemed reasonable.

  At least I’d finally learned enough

  protocol to know that when the siren

  queen addressed me as family, I was

  supposed to do the same. “Good

  morning, Aunt Lopaka, I’m glad to see

  you up and about.” I was. She didn’t

  look good, but she was alive and

  upright. And if she was online, she was

  out of ICU. Chances were good she’d

  recover fully given a bit of time.

  “Thanks to you in great part. Without

  your warning I’d be dead. As it is, I

  believe I may actually wind up with

  scars to rival yours.”

  Hiwahiwa’s image was replaced with

  that of the queen’s daughter. As always,

  Adriana was a vision of auburn-haired

  beauty. Today she was wearing a raw-

  silk suit in forest green, a cream-colored

  blouse, and emerald jewelry. She made

  me feel like a toad. She looked directly

  into the camera and for some reason I

  was sure it was my image she was

  staring at. After a moment, her eyes went

  distant and I knew she was having a

  vision.

  I’d been with Adriana once before in

  a vision. She seemed to work best when

  helped through the images. I wasn’t sure

  anyone else had noticed her going out of

  focus, so I held up one hand to keep the

  others from speaking, leaned forward

  slightly, and said, “What do you see?”

  “You have … fangs, and scars.” Her

  voice was gentle and floaty.

  “I do. Is that important?” Most of the

  worst scars were covered, but the tank

  top I wore under my blazer had a scoop

  neck that didn’t completely conceal the

  claw marks where a demon had gone

  after my heart.

  I motioned to Bruno for a paper and

  pen and waved at Hiwahiwa to come

  closer to the camera. I wrote down a

  message on the pad Bruno handed me

  and held it up for Hiwahiwa to see. Put

  a cool, wet cloth against the back of

  her neck.

  It had worked before to help Adriana

  out of a vision. Because, realistically,

  we didn’t have all day for her to get lost

  in her head. Hiwahiwa leapt to obey.

  She pulled the scarf from around her

  waist, quickly wet it with some water

  from a pitcher, then carefully placed the

  damp scarf against the neck of her

  princess.

  Adriana laughed abruptly, coming

  back to herself in a rush. “Oh! I’m such a

  fool.” She was talking to herself, so I

  didn’t answer.

  “Adriana?” Lopaka’s voice was both

  sharp and concerned. The queen warring

  with the mother.

  “I’m sorry, Mother.” Adriana turned

  slightly, addressing the image of her

  mother, I suppose. “I just realized it

  hasn’t been Celia in my visions. So

  many visions since I met her, but not her.

  It’s someone who looks like her, but

  without the scars or fangs.” She was

  having a hard time containing her

  happiness, which was a little weird

  considering the circumstances of the

  meeting, but probably made perfect

  sense to her in terms of the vision.

  She turned to Hiwahiwa and touched

  her shoulder. “The cloth helped.”

  The secretary looked startled that

  Adriana had touched her. She bowed her

  head and was modest. “It was Princess

  Celia’s idea, Highness. I was only the

  instrument of her instruction.”

  Adriana looked at the camera and

  smiled. “My thanks once again, cousin.”

  I just nodded. She could have thanked

  Hiwahiwa, too. But it wouldn’t do any

  good to step into that mess. I’d learned

  long ago that Adriana considered her

  staff mere tools, whereas I thought of

  them as closer to friends. Of course,

  Adriana had touched her, which is

  something I’d never seen her do. Maybe

  I was rubbing off on her or maybe she

  was preparing for her new role as

  queen. Today’s royalty have to be more

  hands-on than in the past. Princess Diana

  changed a lot of things.

  “I see.” Lopaka obviously didn’t, but

  she wasn’t about to let a little thing like

  a vision derail this meeting. She spoke

  briskly, in a tone that made it clear she

  wasn’t interested in anyone’s reaction to

  what she was saying. “Celia, I know you

  are going to object, but as your queen

  and your aunt, I in
sist that you have a

  security detail, at least until after the

  wedding.”

  “No.” My voice wasn’t angry or

  insulted. It was just firm.

  She tried reason again, maybe

  understanding she had no real way to

  make demands of me. “You have been

  specifically

  targeted

  by

  terrorists

  because you are a member of our family.

  They may also have seen, as our

  prophets have, that you are instrumental

  in keeping Adriana alive and seeing her

  safely wed. So, object if you must, but

  I’m going to insist that you have at least

  one agent with you at all times.”

  I opened my mouth but was

  preempted.

  “I agree,” Dahlmar said firmly. “The

  wedding must go forward as scheduled.

  We cannot show any sign of weakness.

  But Celia’s life is too important to be

  risked needlessly. She should be

  guarded as well as the rest of our

  families.”

  Adriana was nodding wordlessly.

  Maybe reason would work in reverse,

  too. “What you’re asking simply isn’t

  possible,

  Aunt.

  I

  appreciate

  the

  sentiment. I do. But the roles of protector

  and protectee are very fixed. Adriana

  saw me as part of her wedding party in

  the role of a protector. I’m happy to take

  that role because it’s what I’m trained to

  do. But I cannot be watched and guided

  and followed at the same time, just as

  you could not be both queen and

  waitstaff at the same dinner. If I’m

  guarding Adriana, I cannot allow anyone

  else—including another guard—to be

  close to her. The risk might be from the

  guard—intentional or not. Can you see

  my concern?”

  Lopaka entered my mind, and her

  voice was the angry sound of chimes

  caught in a hurricane. Celia, don’t be

  dense. This is another situation like the

  one at the shop. The eyes of the entire

  world are on us. It is necessary that

  you be publicly acknowledged as the

  valued member of the royal family you

  are. You must have the same kind of

  protection as any other member of the

  royal family. I will advise my head of

  security to assign someone you approve

  of to work with you and to help you

  select a team who will facilitate your

  work in protecting my daughter. I must

  insist on this.

  I didn’t like that but there had to be a

  solution that would satisfy everyone.

  Give me a moment to think.

  She turned so smoothly to address her

  daughter that I doubted anyone knew she