Covet the Night, page 6
"Oh, hush, my sweet girl. Sweet, sweet child." Madame Roux passed off the blade to cup Rebecca's face tenderly. She placed a kiss on either side of the girl’s face. "You've done a great favor for the Roux Household, but now you may step back, child."
Madame Roux retreated as well. She glowed with pleasure before them. The sisterhood gathered closer. Each face was lit with radiant pride. Gwen absorbed the palpable energy, letting it wash away all sense of sadness the dagger wrought.
"You have pleased the sisterhood most assuredly. Go now and rest. Your sister lines will tend to you and see to your needs after this trying night. May your night's journeys remain yours and yours alone." Madame Roux's piercing regard lingered on Gwen before she slipped into the crowd of sisters pushing forward to their charges.
Before Gwen could dwell on her words, cold hands latched onto her arms and herded her away from the cluster that had formed.
"You did so well tonight, pet," Laurel said next to Gwen's ear. Somewhere between accepting smiles and fond squeezes upon her shoulders and hands, Gwen was back in the private parlor and boudoir of the Violet sister line and ushered to the same velvet vanity bench. Laurel's fingers went straight to her hair, undoing her beautiful creation.
Gwen sat silently as the sister line spoke excitedly to one another, praising the gifts accumulated with fervor before abruptly turning their attention to her. A healthy flush lingered on Gwen’s cheeks, the remnants of her adrenaline. She smiled at the sisters, but it faltered as a pin was plucked roughly from her hair. Gwen hissed. She raised a hand to the afflicted area, only for it to be batted away.
"Pet." Laurel's voice was sweet as honey. "Did you forget my instructions? Did I not tell you to mind your tongue? Sisters are cut down for less. And to disobey so readily after Madame's rebuke of Britannia. What were you thinking? We've only just found you. We don't want to lose you."
The sisters voiced their agreements, their expressions varying from disapproval to worry. Gwen caught Lily's eye, who wore the latter expression.
"Tansy quite literally had her tongue cut out for speaking back to Madame Roux," she explained with a commiserating cringe. “And next her—"
"Lily." Violet's lambaste cut through the room like a whip. "Speak not that traitor's name. Once gone, they are forgotten. You ought to learn to mind your tongue too."
Lily balked and ducked her head. "Yes, Sister Violet. Sorry, Sister Violet."
The rosy ambiance of the room buckled for a moment in taut silence before Laurel spoke up.
"You're very lucky that Cassia intervened." Laurel plucked another pin—this time with far more care. A parade of tingles danced up and down Gwen's spine as Laurel’s icy fingers ran over her scalp and let loose stiff curls. "She has Peony well in hand."
"Pity for Cassia," Lily quipped.
"A pity indeed." Gwen spied Laurel's smirk in the mirror's reflection. "I can't understand why Peony holds her in such high regard when Cassia's clearly vying for her seat as the new Madame Roux."
Surprise alighted on Gwen's features. Laurel was quick to catch her wide-eyed shock. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to Gwen's temple. "Never you mind that, pet," she said as she straightened. "Only promise you'll be more mindful in the future."
"I promise. I swear," Gwen supplied readily.
"That's all we ask, pet. It is you, after all, who will bear the burden of our sister line's honor as you go through this initiation. We wish you to do it justice. You understand, don't you?" Gwen nodded. "Good." Laurel gifted Gwen with a dazzling smile. "I know you'll do marvelously. We couldn't have dreamed of a better outcome for your prize—a sunlight ring! How impressive, my pet. Isn't she a wonder, sisters?"
Praise rained down on Gwen in baffling heaps. She shook her head and waved her hands about in mild acquiescence until they stopped, and her face was beet red. "Thank you," she said, unsure of how else to meet such appreciation. The flush on her cheeks spread upward to the tips of her ears.
"And what nerve you had for requesting use of the ring so quickly," Hazel remarked above the others.
"Yes, indeed!" Lily agreed and matched Hazel's sharklike grin. "It was positively audacious. I couldn't have hoped for a more sordid affair—but one always does wish to see someone strike out boldly. And to Madame's face!" Lily leaned across Hazel's lap to fan herself dramatically. "One does love to see the flames stoked for our Madame Phoenix."
"As long as we aren't the ones holding the poker." Lily laughed gaily at Hazel's quip and reared back to the far end of the divan they shared.
"Come, girls, do show some decorum," Poppy's light rebuke was softened further by the impish smirk she wore.
"Yes, sister," they chimed in unison.
Gwen marveled at the oddness of their speech and formalities. Their easy banter walked the line of playful dissidence and dangerous offense with remarkable grace. She felt out of time and yet thoroughly engrossed all at once. It was a strange, heady feeling to be so immersed in it, to be welcomed and embraced. Her heart had ached for this deep familial bond for years. And with enough wit and bravado, it could be hers. Forever.
"… if only it hadn't been Cassia." Gwen caught the tail end of Hazel's address and watched as her upper lip curled back in a sneer.
"Darling, don't let her disturb you so. I hate to see you in your rages," Poppy chided her childe. Gwen caught the pointed look Poppy sent to her other childe, Lily, who heeded the wordless command and dragged her sister into her arms. With an audible sigh, Lily rested her chin atop Hazel's shoulder and leaned her head against hers. Poppy had given immortal life to Hazel and Lily in 1753 and 1754, respectively, and the pair was as thick as thieves.
"Listen to Mother, Hazel. Don't be cross."
Hazel let out a little humph and slumped into her sister's hold. They stayed entwined for several moments until, all at once, they did not. With speed Gwen had difficulty keeping up with, Hazel was suddenly on the opposite end of the divan, arms crossed over her chest. Lily and Poppy both cast her admonishing stares.
"She should be cast out—or better yet, put to her final death," Hazel seethed, her face transforming into something monstrous. Gwen swallowed thickly at the sight and tensed.
Whether she sensed Gwen's unease or heard the uptick of her heartbeat, Laurel's hands stopped their preening to sit directly behind Gwen.
"You needn't be afraid, pet," Laurel said tenderly, and immediately, Hazel's vicious scowl dropped. "It's only that there's bad blood between our family lines that goes back decades. Cassia's interference tonight was surely in part to continue to make amends for the misdeeds of her children."
Hazel sniffed, gaze pointedly elsewhere. "I suppose," she relented.
Gwen shifted in her seat, folding her hands over themselves in different patterns before one finally settled firmly across the other. "I assumed everyone got along."
The room's occupants broke out into swift laughter.
"Oh, Gwen," Laurel's chortled, "you're even sweeter than a sampling of AB-negative."
"No, O-negative," Lily objected. "It's by far the sweetest."
"But not the rarest," Laurel said, causing another peal of laughter from the vampyrés.
Gwen giggled along uncertainly. When their laughter subsided, she found her gaze ensnared by Violet's.
"One cannot help but assume that centuries of being together might rub certain relationships raw and draw others closer. Despite these factors, you may always rely on our loyalty to one another because we know we are stronger together than alone. It is Roux above all.
"Cassia's sister line may be a stain upon our household, but not one of us would hesitate to defend her outside these walls." Violet quieted, her gaze going distant. "But should one of our rank step too far out of line or show a weakness too great, they will be culled." The poignant admission drew the hair up on Gwen's arms. "This is how we remain strong. This is how we survive centuries at the top."
Poppy nodded sagely, as did Laurel, Hazel, and Lily ducking their heads along a second behind.
"What did she do? Why is her sister line a stain? Does everyone feel that way?" The rapid-fire of her questions were met with a calm, pensive stare from Violet.
"Simply put," Violet answered, picking a piece of lint from her dress, "her sister line is a failure. None know why our mother, Coral, sired her, but it was always obvious that she was favored most as her youngest childe." Violet rolled her eyes heavenward. "Be a dear and fetch me a goblet of that whore from yesterday, Sister Laurel."
Laurel quickly did as she was bid, returning in as few as three blinks.
"But why? Why was her sister line a failure?"
All eyes fell on Gwen.
"Gwen, dearest pet. Once gone, they are forgotten." Poppy glanced at Violet, who gave an approving nod and then turned back to Gwen. A frown had ensnared her features. "I feel pity for that poor girl—Rebecca, was it?—for the burden of the Cassia sister line will surely haunt her. And you should too."
Hazel, Poppy, and Lily whispered their agreement, but Violet said nothing.
The eldest vampyré downed the remainder of her blood, thrusting the empty goblet in Laurel's direction. Relieved of the goblet, Violet thumbed off the dregs of blood left on her bottom lip. "Bless Cassia," Violet said, her hungry stare dragging from one sister to the next until their spines straightened and chins rose. "And her childe-to-be, Rebecca. They need it more than we."
"Yes, Sister Violet," they all recited.
Violet's crimson gaze landed on Gwen.
She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. "Yes, Sister Violet."
The crimson drained from Violet's eyes. "Rebecca brought the Roux Household an exquisite offering. The enchanted snarkho dagger can cut through anything, save time and space itself. How she got it will undoubtedly be kept a mystery—" Violet spared them all a wry grin. "—but such secrets give us strength. Just as our Gwen will keep the ways and means as to how she obtained a sunlight ring a secret."
Hazel and Lily cried out in protest, causing both Poppy and Violet to laugh. Gwen caught Laurel's eye. The glint she saw lurking in there told Gwen she would not be complying with Madame Roux's echoed command.
"Is there anything else I should know about the other sister lines?"
Lily opened her mouth to reply, but Hazel was faster.
"Let's make it a game, shall we? We’ll each pick a sister line and use one word to describe it."
"Yes," Lily seconded with great enthusiasm, "let's!"
"I'll go first," Hazel announced before a word of protest could be given. "Cassia's sister line—sanguine."
"Oh, dear." The soft comment came from Poppy, who gave her childe an appraising look. "That was spot-on… and absolutely savage."
Lily clapped for Hazel, who stood and curtsied for the room with her voluminous black skirts. "Now you, Poppy!"
The ageless vampyré thought for a while, her lips pursing and forehead crinkling before a slow smile spread itself across her face. "Madame Roux's—Peony's—sister line—tenacious. Now you, Lily."
"Rosemary's sister line—poisonous."
Hazel and Laurel gave appreciative cries and congratulations to her clever answer while Poppy and Violet laughed in amusement.
"Me next," Laurel insisted once they'd calmed. "Orchid's sister line—widow-makers."
"That's not fair! That's two words."
"It's hyphenated," Laurel said with her nose stuck up in the air, a smirk attached to her lips. "Besides, we all know it's true." More laughter followed, though Gwen's stomach clenched in worry along with a flutter of excitement at hearing the titles they gave to each sister line.
I must be absolutely crazy for coming here. But Gwen didn't care. If she needed to become some sadistically cheerful poisoner or a widow-maker to become a vampyré, so be it. Second chances like this were impossible.
"Sister Violet can't do her own sister line," Hazel said with a scrunch of her nose before brightening. "Gwen, pet, it's your turn, then! Tell us, what one word best describes our sister line?"
Unprepared for the game to turn in her direction, Gwen's mouth dropped open comically. Several words came to mind. Sly. Clever. Passionate. Ruthless. What one word could encapsulate them all? She studied their beautiful faces a minute longer before inspiration struck.
"She has it!" Hazel cried and pointed at Gwen. "Look at her cheeks. They're as red as roses! Tell us, Gwen. What did you come up with?"
Gwen's eyes flickered to Laurel's nervously.
"Don't be afraid," Laurel encouraged. "Say it."
"Vulpine." Gwen ducked her chin when no one said a word.
"Vulpine." The word rolled across Violet's tongue as if she were tasting a fine wine. "How primal. I adore it, Gwen."
She snapped her head up to look at Violet, who wore a satisfied smile. "You do?"
"I think she's calling us 'foxy,' Hazel. What do you think?"
Hazel giggled and nodded at Lily.
"Do you know what I think?" Laurel asked the room. "That it's time for Gwen to retire. She's had quite the night. What with completing her first test and snatching up that sunlight ring."
Gwen was hyperaware of the taut delivery of Laurel's last words, but the sisters paid it no mind. Violet quickly agreed with Laurel and took it upon herself to usher the others to their rooms upstairs. Left alone in Laurel's company, Gwen's shoulders slumped.
The night's rush and excitement had finally caught up with her. Exhaustion was settling neatly into her bones. She'd almost died tonight. Twice. Gwen pressed her knuckles to the spot between her eyebrows and closed her eyes, holding back a strained laugh. What have I gotten myself into?
"Are you all right, pet?" Laurel asked.
Gwen opened her eyes and nodded.
"Just tired."
Laurel narrowed her regard. "Tired how?"
"Not in that way," Gwen assured her. "Tonight was just… unexpected. I've never felt so alive and terrified at the same time."
"You handled it all very well, pet," Laurel said and headed to the back of the room, where a staircase and hallway presided. "Come, I'll walk you to your room."
Gwen rose and followed. Her room was at the end of the hallway and directly across from Laurel's. Laurel stopped before her door, leaning against the dark wooden frame to study her childe-to-be. She let the silence stretch, waiting until Gwen started to fidget to speak.
"How did you win the sunlight ring, Gwendolyn?" Laurel cocked her head.
"With my body," Gwen answered without missing a beat.
Laurel suppressed a grin and eyed her for a long moment. She suspected there was far more to the story but allowed Gwen respite. "Very well, then. Good night, pet. Sweet dreams."
"Wait. Laurel?" By the time the words had left Gwen's mouth, Laurel was already half inside her own room.
"Yes, pet?" Laurel turned, a look of concern weighing heavy on her brow. "What is it? What's wrong?"
Gwen folded her hands behind her back to keep their fiddling out of sight. "The other initiates. They all seemed… prepared for the first task."
"So?" The lofty retort made the color on Gwen's cheeks flare.
"So why wasn't I?"
"Because I trusted you. If the other sires-to-be didn't have faith in their chosen sister to complete the test unaided… well, that says far more about them than it does you or me, pet."
The teasing lilt to her voice relaxed Gwen.
"Now, get some rest. In two nights, there will be a ball held in honor of you and the other initiates. Think of it as an introduction to court. A debut!" Laurel's eyes sparkled. "I've got just the gown picked out for you, pet. You'll leave everyone's hearts on the floor."
"A ball?"
Laurel laughed and nodded. "Yes, a ball. There will be dancing, drinks, and debauchery. But don't worry, this will be a semi-private ball. We don't want you too overwhelmed at once. Only the Royal Households—ourselves, the Delacroix, and Vranas—will be there, plus some favored courtiers—pet, what's wrong?"
"Hmm? Wrong? Nothing's wrong." Gwen cringed internally at her profuse word vomit.
Laurel's smile turned static. "Your heart is racing. What's got you all in a tizzy? You needn't lie to me. I never want that."
"It's just… when I was speaking with the other initiates, they made mention of the Vranas." Gwen's pulse jumped speaking the household's name. Vrana? As in Irina Vrana? Her heart raced on as she made the connection.
"You've nothing to fear from them. Nevertheless, it's best not to become too friendly with them." Laurel's smile hardened. "They're nothing but trouble. However, since they took the Thorburns’ seat among the Royal Households some fifteen years ago—or was it twenty?" Laurel gazed off to some point beyond Gwen's shoulder for an elongated moment before pulling herself from her reverie. "It doesn't matter how long. The point is that they are now. We must give them the respect their title deserves to show a united front of the Royal Households, for if we break from each other, we're bound to burn. Every last one of us. Didn’t we go over this all at some point?"
Gwen's face turned ashen as she nodded back mutely.
"Oh, dear, I haven't upset you, have I?" Laurel asked.
"No, no, of course not. Thank you for reminding me about it. There’s so much to remember."
Laurel smiled and gestured toward Gwen's door.
"Rest. You need it for what's to come."
With her parting words, Laurel closed her door, leaving Gwen alone to her thoughts. Unfortunately for Gwen, her thoughts were nearly as tired as she was. She prepared for bed with robotic movements, going through the motions with little enthusiasm until her head hit her pillow with a wistful sigh.
She had survived.
Tonight, at least.
V
