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    The Eldritch Conspiracy (Blood Song)

    Page 28
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      my weapons choices. Had I had the

      option of wearing a jacket it would have

      been easier, but Adriana had vetoed the

      idea, saying that this really wasn’t that

      type of an event. So I had a small gun in

      my evening bag, along with breath mints

      and a tube of lipstick.

      “My parents are here this evening,”

      Gunnar said.

      Adriana gave him a startled look that

      he ignored in favor of staring directly at

      me. Looking at him, I saw that despite

      his careful grooming, his face reflected

      the strain of the last few days.

      “My father asked for a word with you,

      Celia. Apparently he has a message from

      my grandfather.”

      Adriana’s gulp was clearly audible

      over the voices of the crowd and the

      muted background music. Apparently I

      was missing something important.

      “Your grandfather?”

      “Yes. You should be flattered. Odin

      doesn’t often take an interest.”

      Odin? Oh crap. Thorsen wasn’t just

      Gunnar’s surname. He was actually

      Thor’s son? His father, the God of

      Thunder, was here at the party. Um, okay

      then. Wow. It was my turn to gulp. I

      suddenly wished I’d snagged one of the

      flutes of champagne that had been

      circulating around. I really needed a

      drink.

      I managed to choke out a response, but

      it wasn’t easy. “Oh, I’m flattered. I’m

      also alarmed.”

      Thorsen threw back his head and

      laughed.

      “Shall we join my parents then?” He

      winked at me. “I promise they won’t

      bite.”

      “Of course.” Adriana looped her arm

      through his. I couldn’t read her thoughts,

      but her expression was enough. She

      wouldn’t miss this for the world. Gunnar

      held out his other arm for me and I took

      it. Not just for show, either. I needed the

      support.

      Thor, God of Thunder, son of Odin

      Allfather, looked great in a tuxedo. Like

      his son, he was big and blond. Unlike his

      son, he seemed to be having a marvelous

      time. He was all smiles as he introduced

      his wife. “Father, mother, this is

      Princess Adriana of Serenity, the

      daughter of Queen Lopaka.” They

      murmured their acknowledgment and

      greetings. “And this”—Gunnar gestured

      to me—“is Princess Celia Graves,

      granddaughter

      of

      Queen

      Lopaka’s

      beloved brother, Kalino.”

      “Ladies, it is a pleasure.” Thor

      stepped forward. Taking Adriana’s hand

      in his, he kissed her knuckles, bowing

      just the tiniest bit at the waist. “King

      Dahlmar is a lucky man.”

      “And I, a lucky woman.” She smiled

      as he released her hand. Then he turned

      his attention to me; his wide blue eyes,

      the color of a midnight sky with flecks of

      starlight, took me in from head to toe.

      He took my hand, as he had

      Adriana’s, laying a gentle kiss on my

      fingertips. I felt a jolt of electricity pass

      from him to me and gasped in surprise. It

      made him chuckle, a low, wicked sound

      that earned him a poke in the ribs from

      his wife. “Stop playing games and give

      her the message,” she scolded. He gave

      an exaggerated sigh, but released my

      hand and slid his arm around her waist,

      pulling her close to him.

      “Very well. My father said to tell you

      these words. ‘Have faith. The right

      weapon can overcome what will come

      against you.’”

      That was encouraging, if vague. “I

      don’t suppose he told you which weapon

      or what is coming against me?” I put a

      wheedling tone in my voice. It made him

      laugh.

      “I’m sorry. No. He probably shouldn’t

      have said anything at all, but he likes

      you. You remind him a bit of the

      Valkyries.”

      That was a serious compliment. I did

      my best to remember what little I’d been

      taught about the Norse pantheon back in

      my university days so that I could phrase

      my thanks properly. “My thanks to you

      Thor, Thunderer, and to Odin Allfather.

      I’ll endeavor to be worthy of such high

      praise.”

      He leaned forward, close enough that

      his beard tickled my ear when he

      whispered, “You already are. Your

      exploits will someday be written on the

      walls of our great hall. So it has been

      foretold.”

      What could I say to that? I was

      literally speechless. Fortunately I was

      saved from having to reply by the ringing

      of the chime that signaled dinner was

      about to be served. Gunnar, Thor, and

      his lady melted into the crowd moving

      into the dining room without saying

      good-bye. Adriana, meanwhile, grabbed

      me by the arm and began dragging me

      bodily down the hallway to the back

      entrance.

      “Come on, we’re late! We were

      already supposed to be in there at the

      head table when the chimes rang.” She

      wasn’t quite running, but she was

      walking damned fast. At the end of the

      hall, the Secret Service agents standing

      guard came to attention. One opened the

      door. The other pulled a small holy

      water squirt gun to confirm we were

      who we seemed to be.

      “I’m coming. Will you relax? It’s not

      like they’re going to start the party

      without you. You’re the bride, for

      heaven’s sake.”

      She glared at me over her shoulder.

      “Only you would say something like

      that.” She offered her hand to be

      sprayed. She passed, of course, and

      scurried through the door and onto the

      dais. I was seconds behind.

      The head table was long and narrow,

      with all seats facing the crowd. King

      Dahlmar and Adriana were in the center.

      I was seated to her right. Igor was to my

      right. Natasha had the last seat on our

      side. Dahlmar’s side consisted of the

      king, Queen Lopaka, Dahlmar’s brother

      Arkady, and, finally, Olga. I didn’t know

      who’d made the seating arrangements,

      but I was happy with them. I was near

      enough to Adriana to protect her if need

      be, and Olga was as far away as we

      could decently manage.

      While the tables below had only

      candlelight to see by, we had stage

      lighting. It made it difficult to see clearly

      out into the crowd, but put us on display

      nicely. Of course it also made me

      nervous as hell. I so didn’t want to do

      something hideous and embarrassing in

      front of hundreds of people. And it

      would be just my luck for it to happen.

      I shook my head. Don’t even think


      about it.

      It took a few minutes for everyone to

      be seated, but eventually the guests were

      all in their places and only the servers

      were on their feet, moving quietly among

      the tables, filling wine and water

      glasses.

      “Ladies and gentlemen, honored

      guests.” Dahlmar spoke without a

      microphone, but his voice was clearly

      audible throughout the room. All

      murmured conversations ceased as every

      eye turned to him. “I want to thank you

      all for joining me in this celebration. I

      am happier than I can even express at the

      prospect of marrying my beloved, and

      truly overjoyed that you have chosen to

      join us. We met by chance and were

      paired by duty, but have had the

      extraordinary luck to find love.”

      He turned to Adriana, and his smile

      was warm and adoring. Either he truly

      loved her or he was one hell of an actor.

      “This morning the Princess Adriana was

      baptized into my faith. I did not ask this

      of her. It was her choice, her decision.

      But I am most glad to know that she

      shares my beliefs and the beliefs of my

      people.” I heard gasps from several

      places in the room. So Adriana’s actions

      had been a surprise to some, at least. “In

      honor of this, I wish to present her with

      a very special gift.”

      He gestured to Igor, who reached into

      the jacket of his tux to produce a jewel

      case, which he passed to the king.

      Dahlmar opened the case, laying it on

      the plate in front of Adriana. She stared

      down at it, her eyes gone wide with

      shock.

      “The Eldritch Cross was one of the

      great magical artifacts of my people. Its

      powers are legendary. Its loss, during

      the sieges of the Second World War,

      was a devastating blow to our people.

      The seers among us have stated that

      there will be continuing strife within the

      ruling family so long as it remains

      missing.”

      He turned to Adriana, taking her hand

      in his. “Would that I had the original to

      give you. Alas, I do not. But this, the

      copy made for my mother by my father

      with his own hands and his own magic,

      is my gift to you.”

      He let go of her hand to take the

      necklace from its case. He held it up so

      the crowd could get a good look. It was

      a lovely piece, a large cross, encrusted

      with emeralds, pearls, and golden topaz,

      colors that perfectly suited Adriana’s

      beauty. He fastened it around her

      delicate neck, kissed her tenderly, and

      turned back to the crowd.

      “With your indulgence I have another

      bit of business to attend to before we

      eat.” He stood, and everyone in the room

      followed suit.

      “There is an award given to citizens

      of Rusland whose actions on behalf of

      King

      and

      Country

      show

      such

      extraordinary courage and valor as to

      provide an example for all to aspire to. I

      am, perhaps, a bit tardy in bestowing

      this honor on its recipient, for her

      actions in thwarting not one, but two

      political coups surely earned her this

      honor long before now.”

      He turned to me, and I found myself

      blinking stupidly as cameras flashed

      blindingly. “Princess Celia Kalino

      Graves, I present you the Silver Eagle of

      Rusland with my deepest gratitude, and

      that of all my countrymen.”

      He crossed the stage to stand in front

      of me. He embraced me, then stepped

      back. Reaching into his pocket, he

      withdrew a loop of black ribbon with an

      exquisite silver bird hanging from it. He

      put it on me, settling the weight of it on

      my shoulders before turning to face the

      crowd. “I give you Princess Celia, hero

      of Rusland.”

      “Huzzah!” Male voices, scattered

      throughout the room, called out the honor

      the first time. But the second and third

      cries were voiced by nearly everyone, a

      joyous shout that echoed through the hall.

      King Dahlmar hugged me again,

      discreetly passing me a pristine white

      handkerchief as he did. I wiped the tears

      from my eyes as Dahlmar moved back to

      stand behind his seat. “Now, our

      business is done. Let us eat.”

      26

      The bachelorette party was scheduled

      for a late start, but the dinner ran long,

      so we didn’t have time to change before

      dashing to the limo that would take us to

      the docks. Milena, Adriana’s best friend,

      was officially hosting the party even

      though it was being held on Adriana’s

      yacht. The Secret Service had derailed

      the original plan of renting a cruise ship

      and hiring caterers due to “security

      concerns,” which I hadn’t been privy to.

      Yet. So Adriana’s own crew and staff

      had been pressed into service.

      The limo was a little crowded, what

      with me, Adriana, and our security—just

      Helen Baker for me, but a team of four,

      plus the driver, for the bride.

      The day I’d arrived on Serenity, the

      harbor had been busy but not too

      crowded. Now … my, how things had

      changed. Every slip was filled and more

      ships were anchored offshore; their

      passengers and crew probably used

      small boats to get back and forth from

      the island. The landward ends of the

      piers, this side of the security barriers,

      were crawling with paparazzi and

      crowded with onlookers hoping for a

      glimpse of the princess. What a freaking

      security nightmare!

      When the car doors opened we were

      buffeted by a wave of sound—people

      calling Adriana’s name, and even mine

      —and the flashes of dozens of cameras.

      We each gave a brief wave before the

      guards hustled us onto the yacht.

      The sun was setting, bathing the low-

      hanging cirrus clouds in a blaze of reds,

      pinks, and purples that were reflected in

      the ocean. We were met on deck by the

      hostess and the other three guests.

      Adriana introduced me to Milena, a

      pretty redhead with lots of freckles and

      the most amazing amber-colored eyes.

      I’d wondered about Adriana’s best

      friend from earliest childhood and was

      surprised to find that she was mostly a

      subdued, serious woman with an acerbic

      wit. She soon had all of us in stitches as

      she detailed how she’d been followed

      around all day by none-too-subtle

      members of the world press, many of

      whom had offered her obscene amounts

      of money for the “inside scoop” and

      pictures from the party.


      Nani and Naneka were identical twins

      with honey-colored hair and blue eyes. It

      would have been impossible to tell them

      apart if Nani wasn’t hugely pregnant.

      They

      were

      bright

      and

      cheerful,

      chattering away like a pair of birds.

      Keohi, on the other hand, was a sultry,

      sloe-eyed, dark-haired beauty who hung

      silently back, watching the others, but

      only rarely saying anything. When she

      did, it was worth listening.

      Adriana noticed me watching Keohi

      and spoke into my mind. You are right

      to be impressed; Keohi is quite

      brilliant. She works as a marine

      biologist, studying the effect of oil

      spills on ocean ecosystems and

      developing natural methods to contain

      the spills. She went on at length, talking

      to me about her friend while laughing at

      the jokes of the others. I found it

      fascinating that she could carry on two

      entirely different conversations at once.

      Keohi once told me she was only able

      to first become published in scientific

      journals under a male pseudonym,

      because people saw too much beauty to

      believe she had brains.

      I’d never had that problem. In the land

      of the Hollywood butterflies, I’d always

      been a useful brown moth.

      But now you are royalty, Celia. A

      pedigree has its own beauty.

      Yeah, but that’s not the sort of fame I

      ever wanted. Adriana looked at me

      curiously, truly not understanding why

      being royal had so little value to me.

      I went back to chatting amiably by the

      dancing light of a string of party lanterns

      hung around the deck. The drinks were

      plentiful, the conversation excellent. It

      didn’t take long for the atmosphere to

      lull me into a sense of complacency.

      That’s why bodyguards are seldom

      guests at the party, but to hell with it.

      There were plenty of other guards there.

      I decided to have a little fun.

      I discovered, to my delight, that the

      Michelin-star chef on Adriana’s yacht

      had previously worked at the secure

      facility where Vicki had lived for much

      of her adult life. He’d once made me

      Belgian waffles and syrup in liquid

      form. Today I was treated to all the same

      appetizers as the other guests, liquified,

      in a trio of chilled martini glasses. I

      found that both clever and touching—

      someone, the hostess or the chef, had

      taken time to think of me.

      All four of Adriana’s buddies were

      nice, funny, intelligent women. They

     


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