Page 19 of Saved by the Vampire Goddess (Dark Wine Vampires #1)

Chapter nineteen

Valroy

Minnesota Ark Prime—Moments earlier

T he angel continues arguing without taking offense at Evelina’s blatant disrespect. I keep my eyes lowered. If we can get inside the dome, I’ll be able to track down Tina, ensure she’s well, maybe smuggle her out if I need to—I want this to work.

But as I listen to Ingvar’s explanation, something about the emperor’s plan makes little sense. If he explodes the bomb inside New Rome, he’ll kill everyone, including himself.

“Where are the controls for the dome?” I ask.

Ingvar freezes mid-sentence, then slowly turns to me. “You don’t need to know that.”

“But there are controls.”

“Yes—”

“And I bet they’re near the reclamation container.”

Ingvar straightens his spine, his wing feathers standing on end, but doesn’t answer.

Evelina takes my hand and squeezes.

So I keep going, trying to piece things together. “On the news feeds, the emperor has been ranting and raving about Armageddon, the fall of the dome, claiming the gods will give us more lands, a larger dome, if we bring Armageddon early. I’ve always taken that with a grain of salt, dismissing it as posturing for the masses.”

Ingvar says nothing to refute my analysis, but his wings remain frozen.

“The emperor won’t explode the bomb inside the dome.” The recognition comes fast, like a runaway horse. “He’s going to push it through the reclamation container and blow up the controls to drop the dome, isn’t he?”

Ingvar tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling.

Evelina tsks . “What an idiot.” She looks over at me. “All your people will die from exposure to subzero temperatures and cataclysmic storms—”

“That’s assuming the dome protects them from being at ground zero.” Ingvar shakes his head. “We’re not certain it will.”

“I said it before and I’ll say it again—what an idiot.” Evelina swings around to glare at Ingvar. “What will that do to our arks?”

With a sigh, he makes a starburst gesture in the air. “Boom.”

“Boom? That’s all ya got to say? Boom?”

“Yes, boom. We’re not sure your arks will survive.”

“That’s a pretty big boom.” Her eyes widen. “Wait. Daisy, Percy, Ricky, Lucy—all of them… We have to stop him.”

“The explosion will never happen. Not in the emperor’s mind.” She’s been right up to this point—I know nothing about the world out here. But I do know the politics in New Rome. “Klienet expects the angels to intervene before the bomb goes off, and he’ll confront them when they arrive. He’ll demand a larger territory.”

“And why in the world would he think that?” Evelina asks.

Ingvar shifts on his feet. “We may have provided aid before.”

From living in New Rome, it doesn’t take much for me to guess what he’s referring to. I tick off each one on my fingers. “The vaccines, birth control, other medicines—”

“You, hush,” Ingvar says as he points at me.

“What don’t you want me to know?” Evelina’s eyes narrow. “Your reports mention the regular vaccines and other stuff for pre-Collapse diseases and such.”

Ingvar’s wings shake, his feathers standing on end. “If you must know, when people were dying from an illness unknown to the doctors in New Rome, the emperor prayed for relief and we provided a vaccine and medicines.”

Evelina’s glare could light fires. “How in the name of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph did you figure out which virus? If you don’t go inside—”

“We offered your predecessor more clone blood in exchange for New Rome blood bags. We tested the blood, found the mutated virus, and produced a vaccine.”

She huffs. “There’s more to the story than that.”

“When we placed the supply in the reclamation bin, we included a note instructing the bin watcher to deliver the vaccine vials to Diana’s temple, and they inoculated the dome residents. The note was signed ‘from the merciful angels.’ We needed to convince them to use it right away on everyone—vaccines are most effective with herd immunity.”

“Herd what?” I ask.

“Herd immunity.” Ingvar straightens, reminding me of a teacher about to deliver a lecture. “Some people can’t receive the vaccine because of preexisting illnesses or allergies. But when a sufficient percentage of a population is vaccinated, they become immune to the infection, and it reduces the likelihood that the individuals who lack immunity will be infected, and the virus dies off because there aren’t enough hosts to keep it alive.”

“So there was enough vaccine for everyone?” I ask.

Evelina waves at me to hush, then thrusts her hands to her hips.

I’ve seen that pose before. Ingvar is in for it now.

“Why wasn’t this in your past reports?”

Ingvar sighs and crosses his arms. “We monitor what’s happening in the domes to learn about anything that might threaten the dome’s survival, such as a new disease or a proposed bomb. There’s no reason for you to know everything we do.”

“Well, that’s gonna change.”

I raise one eyebrow. Something about his story doesn’t make sense. “You said you heard the emperor’s prayers.”

Ingvar stands there, impassive.

My head swims. For them to monitor our prayers… I can’t believe what I’m about to say. “You’re using the temple of Diana. The temple’s tower.” I tug on Evelina’s hand. “It’s a… What did you call it? The radio rod? That’s how they’re monitoring things, isn’t it?”

Her eyes grow round, her pupils solid black. “An antenna?”

“Right.” I turn back to the angel. “You hid the antenna in the temple’s tower.”

Ingvar shakes his head, his silvery, straight hair slithering across his shoulders. “I will neither confirm nor deny—”

Evelina huffs and hooks a thumb in my direction. “Because Valroy is right.”

“Fine. We monitor your news feeds, but also the confessions and the prayers spoken in the temple, in case the emperor censors the feeds.”

“Those poor people—” Evelina starts.

“Are lucky to be alive.”

“You eavesdropped on their prayers.” She shakes her head. “They think you’re angels. For cripes’ sake, how are you going to fix this?”

“We’ll deal with the sociological consequences if this planet heals and we’re able to bring down the domes.”

“Enough,” I say, holding up my hand to stop the current debate. “What are you doing about the emperor’s plan to explode the dome?”

Ingvar makes a sound of disgust. “Mortals always want more territory than we can provide. They’re never satisfied. Conquer everything.” He reaches for his wrist. “I will confer with my superiors about your suspicions.”

And he disappears.

Evelina raises her hand. “High five there.”

I’ve seen this in movies and so I slap her palm with mine. “Why are we celebrating?”

“Because of what you told Ingvar. We now know the Lux are desperate to stop this bomb, and more importantly, why. So I’m going to read his contract and double our demands. He’ll meet ’em. He has no choice.”

“I see.”

“Now hold still.” She takes a tape measure from a kitchen drawer and gets up close and personal as she measures different parts of my body and dictates them into her handheld device.

“I gave you my measurements—”

“I’ve never made a vampire before. You’ll be stronger and faster than your mortal self. Your hair will stay its current length and not change. But I don’t know if the process gives you a glow-up. I didn’t change much—I felt prettier, but my body stayed the same even though I’m stronger and way faster. So I’m checking to make sure nothing changed.”

“Oh,” is all I can think of to say. I watch as she zips through my measurements, although she seems to linger when she stretches the tape measure along my inseam.

When she rises, I catch her about the waist and stare into her beautiful eyes. I try to work up the nerve to ask what her new attitude means. Has she forgiven me for trying to sneak out of the ark to rescue my sister? Or is the blood-bond thing influencing her reactions?

“Come on, Lord Hot Stuff.” Evelina steps back, grabs my arm, and marches me toward the warehouse elevators. “We have to gather clothes for this job. Make sure we have what we need to blend in. We’ll start with the party.”

The moment passes, and I follow her. The riches she hoards never cease to amaze me. When we reach the basement’s second floor, she leads the way down an aisle, then stops to turn on a motor that slowly spins racks of men’s clothing on hangers covered in transparent plastic. It reminds me of a compact Ferris wheel. These racks are six feet wide, and metal arms hold them, turning on a central axle. They’re different from the large bins that stored folded ski clothes.

“Stop,” I say when she reaches the formal wear, my jaw dropping open. “Where did you get these?”

“I cleaned out a Rent-a-Groom. One of those shops where men about to be married rent their tuxes.” She checks a chart on the handheld device that guided us here, then bends a label at the neck of the jacket to read it. “You’re probably looking for a forty-two long, based on the measurements I took.”

I rifle through the jackets, find my size, and lift the exquisitely tailored jacket from the rack.

She snorts a laugh.

“What’s wrong?” I like the fact she isn’t afraid to express herself, even if she appears to be laughing at me.

“Put that back.” She grabs the coat hanger from me. “You don’t want a tailcoat. You’ll look like Fred Astaire.”

“Who?”

She shakes her head. “A movie star from two hundred years ago. That cut of jacket was popular back then.”

“So it’s old?”

“Kinda.”

“Then that’s exactly who I want to look like.” I take the hanger back, brushing her fingers as I do, and feel an electric charge run over my skin. “You don’t understand New Rome. People with old money have pre-Collapse clothing. But to have something this pristine? It’ll mark me as someone who not only belongs, but someone whom the guards will never question. I don’t know if Ingvar’s invitation will be enough. But a tuxedo like this?” I hold out the tailcoat. “This will get us inside without a problem.”

“Oh for Pete’s sake. I bet you want me to wear a long formal.”

“Excellent. With domino masks.”

Evelina groans. “And how are we supposed to go sleuthing around in formal wear?”

“Simple. We’re expected to bring a gift to the emperor. We hide another change of clothes in the box with the gift.”

“What if we carry our gift in a wheeled suitcase?”

“Perfect. So long as the gift is expensive. An expensive gift will mark us in the right way.” I remove the coat from the hanger and try it on. Running my hand over the sleeve, the texture soft and smooth, I can’t believe I’m wearing something this fine. “Why is the fabric not moth eaten? In New Rome, our pre-Collapse clothes have holes chewed through them.”

“Lux devices. They have some sort of electronic contraption that keeps moths away.”

I take her into my tailcoat-clad arms, set to twirl her through a ballroom dance, only she breaks off.

“Stop.” She takes a few steps away.

“Evelina?”

“You’re going to use our mission to rescue your sister.”

“Of course I am. But what does that have to do with our dancing?”

“Don’t pretend with me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. You’re pretending you want me so that I’ll help save your sister. I’ve been used before. I don’t like it.”

I blow out of breath and gather my courage. “No, I’m not. I’m going to save my sister, yes. And I hope you will choose to help me. But I’m trying to dance with you because—because I love you. I told you so when I was dying.”

She pulls farther away and paces in a circle. “To get me to turn you.”

“Do you think so little of my honor that I’d lie in a moment like that?”

“No—”

“I’m not lying. Period.” I didn’t expect a wholehearted exclamation of love from her. But I hoped reminding her of my words would drop the barrier between us and open up new possibilities.

She keeps circling. “I never told ya fully about my maker. After my high school boyfriend killed himself, I hitchhiked to Hollywood and met a powerful man who wielded backroom Hollywood deals the way you might wield a sword. I only saw Bill at night. He’d troll all the ritzy nightclubs where the studio bosses and movie stars hung out, looking for his next deal, his next young starlet to promote.” She swipes a hand over her face. “Cripes, I fell in love with him. I was so stupid.”

“No, you weren’t. I’ve seen young women deceived by men like that in New Rome.”

She shrugs. “Well, it was a whirlwind romance. He paid for my gowns, my makeover, the best stylist. On his arm, we’d make the rounds through the dark rooms lit by little table candles, a quick conversation here, a whisper over there of a movie in the works, a handshake and suddenly he’s all happy and smiling and buying me celebratory champagne.”

It’s so easy to see how she got swept away by the verpa ’s attention.

“He never drank. I didn’t realize it until later. One night, he told me of a deal he wanted to make, a movie I’d star in, but a handful of men stood in his way. They needed to be shown the exit door—his words. Then he spun a tale of how he could make me young and beautiful forever. What can I say? I was a real ninny and didn’t understand how my staying young and beautiful had anything to do with forcing the men to leave town, but I let him turn me. I loved him enough to want forever with him.”

A wave of empathy washes through me. That’s a terrible way to make the turn. At least I knew what I was getting into. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. I woke up so hungry, I’d have done anything to stop the cramping in my belly. He drove me to the house of one of those men and set me loose. I drained the man, not thinking about what I was doing, not caring. I was too hungry to care. After two more men, I ran away, and from a pay phone, I told him, ‘I’m not doing this again.’”

I take her hand, and she lets me. “What happened?”

“He insisted, then demanded. Ya know, makers have this ability to compel their fledglings to come when called. But I fought his command with everything I had. When my efforts succeeded, he kicked me to the curb, laughing over the telephone lines. ‘You aren’t worth the effort. Let’s see if you survive in Hollywood for long on your own.’”

“Evelina—”

“Well, I survived just fine. I loved him, but I won’t let myself get duped that way ever again.”

She loved him. Jealousy tightens my throat. “Is he still alive?”

“How the heck should I know? I left him and never looked back.”

Still holding her hand, I raise her fingers to my lips, kissing them. “I would happily hunt him down and kill him for hurting you. As you pointed out, I’m quite skilled with a sword.”

“Oh fer cute. I’m not worried about what he did. I’m worried about what you’re gonna do.”

“What do you mean? Evelina, I’m not like him. I’d never make—”

“Yeah, you could’ve fooled me. Come to think of it, you did fool me. So just stop.”

“I planned on bringing my sister back—”

“And then what? The three of us would’ve lived here like a happy little family? But that was before. Now, the whole scenario’s changed. You’re a vampire. She’ll grow to resent you. Not only won’t she have a partner, but she’ll grow old while you never age a day. Have you thought of that?”

“Perhaps we can make a deal with the Lux to take us all to a different dome.”

“Fat chance. You heard what Ingvar said when you first arrived. They won’t make an exception and let you and your sister move into a mortal/vampire dome.”

“If we succeed at stopping the emperor’s plan, they might. And you could come with us.”

“Not gonna happen. I signed a contract to work here, remember? Even with the one-year forgiveness, I got two more years to serve.”

My heart sinks, but I’m not giving up. Arguing won’t convince her. Time and dedication will. Stay on task and prove myself. Then maybe I’ll convince her that my love is true. But first things first. “We need to find you an evening gown for the party. Long and slinky.”

“With a slit down the side so I can access my weapons and run in it.”

“A slit? I like that idea.” I leer at her. “I can admire your beautiful legs flashing through as you walk.”

She huffs. “Women’s clothing is on the next floor up.” She leads me to a corner of the warehouse. We climb rattling metal steps, the sound echoing off the smooth walls, and she unlocks the door. “Through here.”

Following the map grid on the screen she holds, we walk along an illuminated pathway to another rotating rack. When she spins the rack, my mouth gapes open, my eyes bugging out. Pre-Collapse beaded gowns. By the hundreds. “Show me the ones in your size.”

“I could probably fit in anything on this rack.”

Decisions, decisions. With her pale blonde hair and deep blue eyes, she’ll look gorgeous in any of these formals. I pick one and hold it up. Royal blue, plunging neckline, the fabric draping in a sweep across the waist to a point at the hip, where a glittery beaded fastener holds the fabric in place. The soft material hangs straight from there to the floor.

My beautiful maker will look spectacular in this dress. She’ll be the envy of every man at the Saturnalia ball. If we can find a mask for her with silver beads or rhinestones… And then my mind takes a different turn.

“Fer cute, what’s got you thinking so hard?”

My face warms. I’m fantasizing about stripping the dress from her slowly, lifting the skirt, worshiping at her thighs…and her question snaps me from my daydream. “This dress will be perfect. Blue is the royal color. You’ll be mistaken for a domina, while looking dazzling.”

“Hmm. I’ll try it on later. Bring it and your tuxedo. Right now, we need a parka and winter clothing for your sister if we’re to get her out.”

My heart warms even more. “Then you agree? That we should bring her with us?”

“Uff-da. I’m an idiot. But if I don’t help you, you’re gonna do it anyway and get yourself killed. We might as well work together.”

I scoop her into my arms, hugging our outfits against her back, and cover her mouth with mine.

She stiffens, but then melts into me.

I tentatively touch my tongue to hers, and when hers tangles with mine, I lose myself in the moment. In the feel of her in my arms. In the hope that this means we’re starting over.

She pushes me away, breaking the kiss. “Enough of that. I already said I would help.”

“Evelina, I’m in love with you. I mean it. I was kissing you because you’d made me happy, not because I want to sway you.”

“You aren’t in love with me. That’s the blood bond you’re feeling. With time, it’ll pass. Like bad gas.”

“No. I felt this way before the change—”

“Yeah. Sure. That’s why you abandoned me with no discussion. Because you love me.”

My heart aches, knifelike pain shooting through my chest. She’s wrong. I felt this way long before the turn. I felt this way when we cuddled on the porch swing, watching Daisy. I just hadn’t named the feeling yet.

But how do I convince her I’m telling the truth now?