Page 44 of Blood as Sweet as Roses

Crimson

“Absolutely not,” Renata snaps. “Amrita, you’re not summoning a demon in my conference room again!”

With a mischievous grin, Amrita stands up and flings her phone aside, seemingly unaware of its fragility.

Lexi shrieks and reaches out a long arm to catch it before it tumbles to the floor.

But Amrita doesn’t notice or care. Her gaze is fixed on me.

“Crimson, if you’re serious about ousting Oana, we need to find out what she’s really up to.

And we can’t do that by chasing her around in the shadows, guessing what she might do next. We need to seek the answers we desire…”

All of the vampires and witches in the conference room turn toward me. Subtly, the lights in the hall all dim at the same time, which I’m sure is due to Amrita’s magical prowess and not the electric dimmers. I glare at the vampire-witch, furious that she’s putting me on the spot like this.

I dabble in witchcraft, yes, but not to the extent that Amrita does.

And I have a very personal reason for disliking this type of magic.

Every witch and vampire in this room knows the prophecy that was foretold about me.

It’s how I got my title, the Crimson Stake, which I appreciate for instilling fear in the magical community and giving me the reputation that I’ve built my power around…

But it also foretells my weakness, one that I don’t want to lend any credence to.

I’m in a tough position.

And ultimately, I have to lead with strength. I can’t be afraid of some whispered witch prophecy, especially if Oana is out there, using her magic to accumulate power. I have to play on the same level she is.

“Fine,” I concede. “I’ll help you summon…whatever you want to summon.”

“This isn’t a question for a particular Demon or Deity,” Amrita clarifies. Without explanation, she hops onto her chair, and then steps onto the circular oak table, using it like a raised, circular platform. Renata stares in horror at the witch’s bare feet on her recently-varnished table.

Amrita paces around the edge of the table, thinking.

“I don’t believe Morgan, Hecate or Lucifer would be able to answer what we’re asking. No, we need to call upon the fates themselves. And for that, we must all give something of ourselves.”

“Blood?” I ask, reaching for the dagger at my belt.

“No, something more precious,” Amrita replies. “A secret, in exchange for the secrets we’re asking them to reveal.”

With a dramatic flourish, she pulls a wooden box from the wide sleeve of her violet robe. It’s about the size of a jewelry box, and engraved with complex runes.

“Where was she keeping that?” Lexi says.

“Whisper your secret into this box, and we’ll offer it up to the fates,” Amrita instructs, surveying the vampires and witches around the table. “There are plenty of us here, I’m sure the fates will accept that as a reasonable offering.”

“What sort of secrets?” Sabina asks, looking suspiciously at the box in Amrita’s hands.

“Something you’ve never revealed to anyone,” Amrita replies, putting on her hushed, High Priestess voice. “Something that nobody else could know. I’ll go first!”

Standing in the center of the oak table, she closes her eyes, then opens the box. Her lips quiver as she whispers something to it, her words so quiet even my vampiric hearing can’t make them out.

When she’s finished, she opens her eyes, and comes over to me.

“Now you go,” she says, passing the box down.

Again, I resent her for putting me on the spot. I’m not pleased about being forced to reveal a secret, even if it’s only to the fates.

But I can’t deny her here, in front of all of the other coven and clan leaders.

How can I come up with a secret? I’ve accumulated so many, over the centuries.

“It has to be worth the answer you’re asking for,” Amrita says. “Something equal in size.”

The words seem to come from the box itself, rather than from her lips.

Suddenly, I notice that we’re no longer in the conference room.

We’re still seated at the oak table, but now, we’re surrounded by the black, imposing night, stars twinkling overhead, a grassy field under our feet.

I don’t know how that’s possible, and I don’t like it.

Trying to focus, I close my eyes, and reach back into myself.

What’s a big enough secret? One I’ve never revealed to anyone…

And now that I’ve quieted my mind, I can hear the throbbing ache in my chest, feel its agonizing pull.

The ache from this morning, when I left Paige alone in our suite. It never stopped.

Because I never stop thinking of her. No matter how I try, she’s always on my mind. How she waits for me, always patient even when clan business takes most of the night. How her brown eyes shine so passionately when she’s speaking of something she cares about.

How her voice softens when she calls me her king.

How she stays, even though she knows who I am.

Without thinking any more, I lean forward, and I whisper my secret into the box.

There’s a hushed, heavy atmosphere as Amrita goes around the table, collecting secrets from everyone. As she goes, the stars seem to glow more vibrantly in the sky, the grass becomes dewy and long under my feet, and the night expands with magic.

Amrita floats to the center of the oak table, her owl familiar hovering beside her, her robes billowing out in waves around her. She holds the box of secrets over her head, as though offering it up to the night.

“Fates and fortunes!” she declares. Her voice booms out of her like a sudden clasp of thunder.

Many of the witches and even vampires jump at the sound. Startled, Lexi falls from her chair with a shriek. Vampires don’t often engage in these sorts of rituals, and I’m feeling horribly out of my depth. Instinctively, I reach for the dagger at my belt.

“I am Amrita Vyas, the High Priestess of the Morgan Witches, the Most Ancient Vampire to Walk This Earth, and…” she flashes a cheeky grin to the sky. “The Patron Saint of Doom-Scrolling!”

“That’s not fair!” Lexi protests, scrambling back into her seat. “You’ve only been on social media for like, two days! You can’t claim that title!”

But Amrita ignores her. Her feet leave the oak table as she rises into the air, the box of secrets floating out of her fingertips and up into the blackness of the sky.

“I am joined by the most powerful witches and vampires of the region, who join me in offering our darkest, our most forbidden secrets to you, Unspoken Universe, the invisible fabric of time and space, the eyes that see everything and nothing at all, the hearts that beat deep under the earth and sing through the heavens!

“My word is my bond, and I think that you’ll find,

“We’re ancient as you, so bear that in mind,

“We offer you secrets, for secrets in kind.”

The box opens wide, radiating a powerful, white light across the sky. It’s terrifying, for a vampire who hasn’t seen the sun in three hundred years. The other vampires are also shaken, cowering against the light. Even the witches look warily up at the floating box and Amrita’s glowing frame.

And then, unceremoniously, the box snaps shut, and the light disappears. It tumbles into Amrita’s arms as she, too, falls out of the sky and back down onto the oak table.

As suddenly as it started, we’re back in the conference room again, the wall sconces at their full brightness, although not as bright as the supernatural light we all just beheld.

“Should have just let her scroll on her phone,” Sabina grumbles beside me.

Amrita shakes her head, purple dust dissipating into the air like glitter from her dark hair. Eagerly, she opens the box, and pulls a tiny scroll of paper out.

As Amrita reads, her eyes widen.

“What does it say?” Murad asks, his voice hush and his brow furrowed.

Desperately curious, I lean forward as well. I’m glad I don’t have a heartbeat that could be detected by the other vampires in the room.

Amrita whispers,

“‘She’s made of light…

“‘She burns the night…’”

Sabina frowns. “What does that mean?”

“And what does that have to do with Oana and Cedric?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at the vampire-witch before me.

But she’s got a far-away look in her eyes, and I can tell we’re not going to get a clear answer out of her.

“I’ve…I’ve got to go,” she says.

“What?” Celine asks. “But the conference has only just started…”

“Sorry, everyone!” Amrita’s face breaks out into a large grin. Carelessly, she tosses the wooden box to Celine, who snatches it out of the air. “Damien, cover my classes at the academy while I’m away!”

Damien frowns at her. “Amrita, I’m not…”

“Thank you!” she answers cheerfully. Then in a blink, she disappears, vanishing into a cloud of violet smoke.

“She…left her phone?” Lexi says, holding up the glittery purple iPhone.

Celine opens the wooden box. “Wait, everyone. There’s another piece of paper in here…”

She pulls out another roll of parchment, then hands the box to Renata, who pulls out another roll.

“There must be one for everyone,” Amara Moonfall says. “One scroll for every secret. Keep passing it around.”

The box goes around the table, each person pulling out their scroll.

“Mine doesn’t have anything to do with Oana or Cedric,” Amara sighs, reading the small scrap of paper in her hands.

“Neither does mine,” mutters Renata, although her eyes stay fixed on the words in front of her.

“My scroll does,” says Damien, his expression dark. “It just says, ‘Oana knows your intentions.’”

“Mine says the same, about Cedric,” Celine adds, crumpling her scroll in her fist.

“That doesn’t bode well,” Murad mutters, taking his scroll from the box.

Then he hands it to me.

I take the tiny slip of paper. It’s thin, with curved, elegant writing.

There are only two words on my paper.

The worst two words I could imagine.

My scroll reads,

“It’s her.”