Prince of Twilight (12 page)

“Thanks.”

Lupe nodded, leaving Stormy to wonder why the girl was helping her, whether it was a trick, a trap or honest assistance. And then she knew it didn't matter. She was on a path here, and she wasn't going to get off until she found where it led.

Stormy thanked her and headed into the next room after Melina. “Melina, just one thing.”

Melina turned to look at her.

“This…exorcism. Do you know how to perform it?”

Licking her lips, the other woman shook her head. “No.”

“Do you know anyone who does?”

“No, not offhand. But I'm sure we can find someone.”

“You don't need to. I…I know someone. Probably the best—maybe the only—person for the job.”

S
tormy returned to her room to make the call. Of all the vampires she'd ever encountered—and there had been many—Rhiannon was the one she was least fond of. She'd never been 100% certain just why. But there was something else. Rhiannon had helped her. She'd been there, in Romania. She'd been the one to return Stormy to her home, to Max and Lou and her old life. How it had happened, why, she didn't know. And maybe part of her was grateful while the rest of her resented being separated from Vlad. Even though staying with him would probably have killed her.

And still might.

Max liked to believe Stormy's dislike of Rhiannon was because she and Rhiannon were a lot alike, but Stormy didn't buy that. Sure, Rhiannon was tough, full of herself and fearless. But she was also,
Stormy knew, dangerous. More dangerous than the others she'd known. Except, perhaps, for Dracula himself.

She hated to bring the haughty vampiress into this mess, but there was no denying her powers or her skill. No one knew more about this type of thing than she did. She'd been a priestess of Isis. Besides, Rhiannon knew the backstory. More of it than Stormy did, at this point. And she knew Vlad, and for some reason she had tried to help before.

Stormy slid her PalmPilot from its case. The contact list was password protected, and she changed the password weekly. This week it was DRAC-2006. Yeah, he'd been on her mind big time even before she came here and ran into him again. Then again, he always was. Still, lately it had been worse.

She used the stylus to enter the password and opened her file of confidential contacts. She had a direct number for Rhiannon's cell phone, complete with voice mail. She never knew what time zone her vampire contacts might be in. Nor did they.

Stormy was taken by surprise when Rhiannon answered on the second ring.

“Well, well, well,” she said when she picked up.
“If it isn't the spunkiest little mortal I know. It's been a long time, Stormy Jones.”

“I'd be real impressed by your psychic skills, Rhiannon, if I didn't suspect you had caller ID.”

Rhiannon laughed. It was slow and sexy. “Don't belittle my powers so quickly. I imagine I can tell you why you've phoned.”

“Fine, I'll play.” Stormy crossed the room, picking up her videotape on the way, and sank into the cushioned and elegant chair near the French doors. “Why am I calling?”

“Because the deadline is approaching. Time is running out.”

She blinked, then frowned. “Deadline?”

Rhiannon was quiet for a moment.

“What deadline, Rhiannon? Does this have to do with that Red Star of Destiny shit?”

“I…I assumed you knew. Vlad hasn't contacted you by now to tell you?” she asked, her voice very low and way more gentle than Stormy had ever heard it. That alone was enough to shake her.

“No, Vlad didn't tell me about any deadline. But if it involves me, I think I have a right to know, don't you?”

“There's no question. I wouldn't even consider keeping this from you, though he, apparently, is
foolish enough to see some benefit to it. Tell me this. Do you know the rest yet? That ring you're searching for, do you know what it is?”

“How do you know I'm searching for a ring?”

Rhiannon sighed. “I keep very close tabs on you—and on Vlad, as well. This situation—it's coming to a head, I'm afraid. Tell me, do you know about the ring?”

“Yes. I know that if it's put on my finger and some rite performed, Elisabeta will return, and it will probably cost me my life. That's what I'm trying to prevent.”

“Good. It helps that you're aware of that much, at least. But there's more. Stormy, the magicians put a time limit on the magick they used to ensorcell the ring. If Elisabeta's soul hasn't been restored to life by the time the Red Star of Destiny eclipses Venus, they said, the magick would die. Elisabeta would be free.”

“So I've heard.” Stormy turned the video in her hand, wishing for a machine right now, here in her own room.

“They included all the women she had ever been or would ever be in the wording. If you
are
her reincarnation, Stormy, and the deadline passes, you, too, would be…set free.”

“Meaning?”

“Dead.”

Stormy went icy cold. She'd been afraid that was what the cryptic words in the journal had meant, but to hear them confirmed chilled her to the bone.

“Don't panic yet, child. There's still time to prevent it.”

“I'm not prone to panic, Rhiannon. And I'm no child.”

“Compared to me, you're a newborn.”

Stormy lowered her head. “When is this Red Star of Fate—”

“Destiny.”

“Whatever. When does it eclipse Venus?”

“Once every five and a half centuries or thereabouts.”

“And that would be when?”

“Midnight on Tuesday,” Rhiannon said.

“You're shitting me.” Stormy closed her eyes, feeling as if the words had been a hammer blow to her gut. “Tomorrow's Monday,” she whispered. “So I'm going to die in two days and Vlad didn't even bother to tell me?” She was going to kill that undead bastard herself.

“Apparently.”

“What if we had the ring?” Stormy asked quickly. “Do you think you could exorcise her spirit from me if we had it?”

“Of course I could. There's no question.”

Stormy nodded. “And would that prevent my untimely demise?”

“I can't be certain, Stormy, but I believe it would. Call it an educated guess, if you wish. But there is no one
more
educated in this area than I. Not alive, at least.”

Stormy nodded, knowing it was true.

“You have the ring, then,” Rhiannon said.

The woman never missed a thing, did she? “Yes.”

“Does Vlad know?”

“He's in town,” she said. “He knows the ring is here, that someone has it, but I have no idea if he knows it's me.”
Yeah, I wish. I know damn well he's the one who brought that cursed thing here tonight.

“Then you have nothing to worry about. It's too near dawn now, but I can leave at sunset and come to you. Where are you, Stormy?”

“Edmunstun,” she said. “It's in—”

“New Brunswick. Canada. Gods, tell me you haven't got yourself entangled with that nest of Athena vipers.”

Something cold seemed to waft from her words,
chilling the blood in Stormy's veins. “Why do you say that?”

“By the gods, you have, haven't you?”

“They're the ones who tipped me off that the ring was in town. They tried to hire me to steal it, actually, but someone beat me to the punch. I agreed to help them find it, and it turned up in my room.”

“Your room where?”

Stormy swallowed, because her voice was getting hoarse. “Here at Athena House.”

“Are you using their phone? By the gods, child, it's probably tapped.”

“No. I'm using my cell.” She was getting a very bad feeling, a dark foreboding in the pit of her stomach.

“They're not to be trusted, Stormy. Especially not one called Brooke, if she's still among them.”

Stormy blinked, and her throat went utterly dry.

“Where is the ring now?”

She could barely move her lips. She glanced at the window, saw that the sun had risen. “By now Melina and Brooke are putting it in a vault for safekeeping.”

“By the horns of Isis, Stormy, go after them! Now!”

Stormy snapped her cell phone closed and was halfway to the bedroom door before she realized she still had the videotape in her hand. Belatedly,
she shoved it under the mattress, then headed back to the door and raced down the hall.

She met Lupe halfway down, gripped her arm.

“Where are the vaults?”

Lupe's eyes widened. She shot a look down the stairs and then whispered emphatically, “I'm not allowed to tell you that. Only a handful of the women here know where they are, even fewer how to—”

“Don't give me that bullshit. You're third in command, after Brooke and Melina. I know you know. Get me there.”

Lupe stiffened her spine, shook her head. “No.”

“Dammit, Lupe, there might be a problem.”

“Might be?”

“Just trust me on this. I have to—”

“I'll go. But I'm not taking you.” She turned away.

“But—”

Lupe whirled to face her again. “Dammit, Stormy, do you have any idea what happens to women who betray the trust of the Sisterhood of Athena?”

Stormy went still, her eyes widening a little at the grim tone in Lupe's voice, the expression on her face. “No,” she said. “I don't. What happens to them, Lupe?”

Lupe stared at her, and her eyes said volumes,
though her lips didn't speak a word. “Never mind. Come with me.” She led Stormy down the stairs and through the mansion, into the library. “The phone in here has a two-way radio function. There's another in the vaults.” She leaned over the phone, reaching out to hit a button, but before her finger touched down, a crackling sound came from the telephone's speaker.

Frowning, Lupe hit the “speak” button. “Melina? Brooke? Is that you?”

She released the button, her eyes seeking Stormy's. Stormy strained her ears to listen, and then the crackling came again, along with a single quiet word.

“Help.”

“Melina?”

Stormy leaned past Lupe and hit the button herself. “Melina? What happened? Are you all right?”

She released the button, and when no answer came, she hit it again. “Melina, where is the ring?”

She waited. No reply. Then she shot a look at Lupe. “We have to go. And I think under the circumstances, you won't get into too much trouble for taking me with you.”

“I could. But at this point, I'm willing to risk it. Come on.”

S
tormy followed Lupe through the mansion into the sunroom that had been added on at the rear, a room that was like a tropical rain forest. Enclosed in glass, filled with plants and trees, fountains and a bubbling hot tub, and paths that wound amid them all. She barely had time to appreciate the ingenious beauty of the indoor paradise before they were exiting through a glass door and heading along another path. This one led through an even larger paradise, an outdoor garden that seemed to cover acres.

The entire area was heady with the almost overpowering scent of countless flowers. Above them, between the colorful limbs of flowering trees, was a broad expanse of sky painted orange and pink by the sunrise. The path they took wound and branched until Stormy wasn't sure she could find her way
again without an escort. At the center of the garden, or what Stormy presumed to be the center, stood a giant granite sculpture of the goddess Athena. She stood proudly, an owl on her shoulder, a staff in her hand and a crown of stars encircling her head. Her stone robe flowed from one shoulder to pool around her feet and drape in places over the square base on which she stood. The base had been chiseled with twisting vines, and a few real ones had begun to creep over it. The entire image was utterly amazing.

“My God,” Stormy whispered.

“God
dess
, you mean.” Lupe knelt in front of the statue's base, which was at least four feet high, and touched one of the leaves that were carved there. Immediately a part of the base slid outward, along hidden tracks in the ground.

Stormy gasped, shocked. She hadn't even realized there were seams in the granite, they were so cleverly hidden by the pattern of the vines.

“This way,” Lupe said, and she walked into the black void behind the chunk of stone.

Swallowing hard, Stormy followed, and as soon as she stepped inside, the stone slid home again, blocking out any light.

“Stay still a second,” Lupe said. Stormy was sur
prised to feel Lupe's hand, palm flat against her shoulder, as if to ensure she obeyed.

Then there was light, and Stormy blinked in the sudden brightness before she realized Lupe was holding a glow-stick in one hand. Lupe held it out ahead of her, and Stormy saw that they were standing at the top of a set of stairs that vanished downward, into the darkness, plunging deep into the earth.

“You guys take this secrecy shit seriously, don't you?”

“We have to. Follow me.” Lupe started down the stairs.

It was a long flight, with a hundred-yard tunnel at the end of it, and a door at the end of that. When they finally reached the door, Lupe punched a code into a numbered panel mounted to it, and the door opened.

She led Stormy inside, closed the door behind her and hit a switch. A light came on near them, then another and another, each one revealing more of the incredible room they had entered.

Room? It was more like a mini-stadium: huge and round with a concave ceiling. And the entire thing was lined in books. Hundreds—no, thousands—of them. Perhaps tens of thousands. She couldn't even begin to examine titles or subjects; she only got a sense of great age, and that could
have come as much from the musty smells of old paper and leather as anything else.

“What
is
this place?” she asked in a whisper. Because it seemed appropriate to whisper in there.

“The Library of Athena,” Lupe said. “There's barely a subject we can't research here. We have a hundred women employed at a separate facility, transcribing the books into computers, one by one. They don't know who they work for or why they're doing what they are. They just type and save, or scan the ones that are solid enough to withstand it.”

“That's probably wise. If there were ever a fire—”

“There was, once. At our library in Alexandria.”

Stormy blinked, stunned. “That was…?”

“This way,” Lupe said. She crossed the vast room, and at the far end, she took a book from one of the shelves and reached into the space left behind. The shelf behind her swung open to reveal a hidden doorway. “Follow me.”

Stormy followed her into the shadowy dimness, down another set of steps—a smaller one this time—and at the bottom there was a far smaller room. It was square, and its walls seemed to be made of rows upon rows of small doors in various sizes. One section held tiny doors, another slightly larger ones, and another, still larger ones. Some were tall
and narrow, others short and wide. Each one of them had two things in common: a lock and a number.

Two of them were very different from the others. Both were tiny. And both stood wide open.

The room was dark and shadowy; the only light came from the still-open doorway into the stairway. But as Stormy stood there, staring at the two tiny open doors, her mind racing with the possibilities they suggested to her, she heard a moan and tore her eyes away from the little vaults.

“Melina!” Lupe shouted. And then she was darting into a dark corner of the room, falling to her knees beside the limp form that had to be Melina.

Stormy joined her there, kneeling on the other side of the fallen woman. She lay on her back, eyes closed, and the dark blotch on the right side of her forehead looked suspiciously like blood. Stormy touched her cheek, patted it. “Melina. Wake up, come on. Tell us what happened.”

Melina's eyes fluttered. “The ring,” she whispered.

“That's right, the ring. Where is the ring?”

Melina's eyes opened. She tried to focus on Stormy, then on Lupe. Her eyes grew wider. “Oh, God, the ring!” She sat up rapidly, then swayed to one side, but Lupe gripped her shoulders and held her upright.

“Easy, Melina. You're hurt. You're bleeding.”

“Help me up. Hurry.”

Lupe and Stormy flanked her and helped her to stand. As they did, she stumbled a few steps forward and stared at the open doors. Then her hand flew to her neck in search of something. A key, Stormy recalled. She'd worn it on a chain, but it wasn't there.

“The key. God, she took the key.”

“No. Look, it's right here.” Lupe bent and picked up the broken chain with the silver key still on it. “And here are the others.” She scooped up another ring, this one huge, with more keys than Stormy could have counted.

“I don't get it. Look, someone better start explaining some things to me, and fast,” Stormy said. “What happened down here, Melina? And where the hell is Brooke?”

“Brooke.” Melina lowered her head. “Oh, God, Brooke. What the hell is she doing?”

“That's what I'd like to know,” Stormy muttered.

Melina lifted her head, met Stormy's eyes and nodded slowly. “We came down here with the ring. I was going to use my key, the master key, to open vault number one.” She nodded to the first tiny door that stood open. “That's where all the other keys are kept. I'm the only one with the master key.”

As she said it, Lupe replaced the giant key ring in its vault and closed it. She used Melina's silver key to turn the lock, then handed it back to her. Melina eyed the broken chain. “She hit me with something,” she said softly. And she lifted a hand to the back of her head. “I turned around to face her, and she hit me again. I went to my knees, felt her yanking the chain from my neck. She took the master key and…I don't know. I lost consciousness.”

“Where was the ring at that point?” Stormy demanded.

“In my hand.” Melina lifted her hand, opened her palm and blinked at its emptiness, her eyes wet. “I can't believe Brooke would betray me—betray the Sisterhood.”

“She took the ring, didn't she?” Stormy asked.

“She…must have.”

“But why? What the hell could she want with the ring? Unless it's just the value of it,” Stormy said. “She could sell the stone. It's probably priceless.”

“It's not money she's after,” Lupe said softly. She was staring at the second of the two little doors, the one that still remained open.

“What was in that vault?” Stormy asked.

Lupe looked at Melina, who looked to the open door. Her face changed. It was overcome with some
thing that looked a lot like fear. She moved closer and peered inside, but clearly there was nothing there.

“What was in that compartment?” Stormy demanded.

Melina pursed her lips.

“I can only guess,” Lupe said. “But if it was what I think it was…” She turned to her mentor. “It was, wasn't it? We have to tell her, Melina.”

Sighing, Melina lowered her head. “The rite.”

“The…
rite?
” It took a moment for the meaning of the words to sink into Stormy's brain, and when they did, she damn near gaped. “The rite that's supposed to be used with the ring? The one that's supposed to restore Elisabeta to life? It's been here all along? And now Brooke has it?”

“It looks that way, yes.” Melina closed the door. She didn't lock it.

“But why? Why the hell would you keep something like that from me?” Stormy demanded.

Melina averted her eyes. “You're an employee, hired to find the ring. You had no need to know—”

“Don't give me that bullshit, Melina. You knew about my connection to that ring and to Elisabeta. That's why you hired me. My fucking life is in the rifle sights here, and you had the only bullet. You should have told me.”

“It wouldn't have mattered.”

“No? You don't think so? It's
my
life, Melina. Shouldn't that have been my call?”

Melina sighed. “I'm sorry, Stormy. I did what I thought was best. I hope you can believe that.”

“Yeah. What was best for you and your damned Sisterhood, maybe.”

Melina only shook her head. “Let's get back to the manse. We've got to get to the bottom of this.”

“You're damn right we do,” Stormy said.

 

Brooke sat in a darkened room in an empty house a few miles away from Athena House. The torn, ragged remnants of curtains that remained in the windows were drawn as tightly as they could be, dimming the early morning light. The only other source of illumination came from the flickering candle that stood on the small round table before her. The other items on the table included a round slab of balsa wood, on which was painted a series of letters and numbers, an upside down wine glass, a pad and a pen.

Brooke had two more items to add. She took them from her pockets now and laid them within the pool of light at the base of the candle. The carefully rolled parchment, bound by a length a yellow ribbon, and the ruby ring. The Ring of the Impaler.

She took a few deep breaths and placed her fingertips on the bottom of the wineglass. “Elisabeta Dracula, I am calling you. Speak to me, Elisabeta. I've done as you asked the last time I contacted you. I have the ring and the scroll.”

At first nothing happened. But Brooke was patient. The reward Elisabeta had promised her was enough to instill patience in her. She repeated her words and waited some more. Eventually she felt a breeze rush into the room. She saw it in the way the candle flame flickered, felt it icy cold on her face. She closed her eyes as was her custom. The wineglass began to move, only slightly at first, but then its motions grew stronger, until it was gliding over the smooth balsa wood in sweeping arcs and circles. When it stopped, Brooke opened her eyes to look and see what letter the glass covered, wrote it down and began again.

The spirit board spelled out: G-O-O-D.

“What do you want me to do now?”

G-E-T the spirit spelled. Brooke took one hand from the glass to jot down the letters of her target. The glass was moving quickly now, and in a far more agitated manner than it had before. T-E-M-P-E-S-T.

“And do what with her?”

P-U-T-R-I-
Brooke frowned at the letters and kept scribbling as fast as she could, even while keeping one hand on the glass, which was flying over the board now. It barely paused on one letter long enough for her to ascertain which one it indicated before sliding to the next.

N-G-O-N-H-E-R

Brooke's pencil fell from her hand and rolled to the floor. She bent to get it, removing her other hand from the wineglass to reach for it, snatched the pencil up and reached for the glass again.

And then she just sat there, staring. Because the wineglass was moving again, still spelling. All by itself—she wasn't even touching it.

A door slammed, but no one was there.

P-A-Y-A-T-T-E-N-T-I-O-N

“I'm sorry. You…go ahead.” She looked at the notepad and read what she had written there. PUT-RINGONHER. Put ring on her.

“You want me to get Stormy Jones and put the ring on her finger. Yes? But she's not going to let me do that, Elisabeta.”

F-O-R-C-E

“Yes, yes, I understand.”

P-E-R-F-O-R-M-R-I-T-E

Brooke nodded, but disappointment was rushing
through her now. There was still nothing about
her,
not a word about how Elisabeta would keep her promise to grant Brooke the gift of immortality in repayment for her help.

“I understand,” Brooke repeated. “I take her, put the ring on her and perform the rite. By force, if necessary. It's very simple.” She cleared her throat. “And after I do all this, assuming I can pull it off, what happens then?”

I-L-I-V-E

“I got that, Elisabeta, but what I want to know is, what happens to me? You promised me immortality. So when do I get it. And how?”

A-F-T-E-R

Brooke frowned, disappointment washing through her. She didn't trust this Elisabeta, had suspected a trick from the beginning. “No,” she said slowly. “No, I don't think so. You need to tell me now. Tell me how it's going to work or the deal's off.”

The icy wind returned, blowing harder now than before. It blew so hard that a shutter slammed outside the house and the door burst open. The candle went out, and the wind kept coming.

Brooke rose to her feet. “I'm not asking you to do anything. Just tell me, that's all. Tell me how it can happen!”