Page 17 of The Shadow Bride (The Scarlet Veil #2)

Chapter Seventeen

A Black Soirée

With an arm around Lou, I rush up the stairs and through the curio cabinet, but Dimitri catches us at the door to Michal’s study. “Whatever you’re planning, I’d reconsider. Never is it a good idea to go chasing after screams in Requiem.”

“But someone could be hurt—”

“And what of you ? Are you not supposed to be tucked safely in your room?”

Tugging my elbow out of his grip, I stare up at him suspiciously. “How do you know that?”

Lou interrupts before he can answer. “Maybe Odessa was right, Célie. Maybe we should return to your room.”

But that doesn’t sound like Lou at all. She never hides from a fight, not even while pale and weak from our time in the grotto. Concerned, I lift a quick hand to her forehead, but the difference in our temperatures is too great for such a method to prove effective now. She swats my ministrations away and rolls her eyes. “I just think in light of—well, everything , perhaps we shouldn’t charge off after the bloodcurdling shriek in a vampire-infested castle. If things go poorly, I don’t think I’ll be much help at the moment.”

“Nor I,” Dimitri agrees quickly, and for no reason at all.

I frown between them, dropping my hand. “Is there something I should know?”

Dimitri scoffs. “Isn’t said bloodcurdling shriek enough?”

“No, it isn’t—and once again, that isn’t an answer.” All the more determined now, I stride past him, grasping Lou’s hand and pulling her toward the east wing. “But you’re right—you should probably go back to our room. I’ll escort you back before investigating—”

“Oh, no,” Lou protests, digging in her heels. “You aren’t leaving me with your mother.”

“But if you’re frightened—”

“I never said frightened , but even if I did, I’ll never be frightened enough for that.” Wiping the last of the blood from her nose, she squares her shoulders and marches in front of me unassisted. Now I hesitate, tearing my gaze from that smear of scarlet and swallowing against the dull ache in my throat. I’ll need to eat soon, but I still have no idea how to do it—or rather, from who . Perhaps Odessa can help me until Michal returns.

My stomach lurches unpleasantly at the thought of her.

The lilting chords of the violin are louder up here, the murmuring voices too. Clearly, someone is hosting a soirée tonight, and as lady of the castle, I cannot help but feel Odessa would’ve known about it. Likewise, as neither Lou nor I received an invitation to said soirée, I can only assume she did not want us there. The thought stings more than it should. Though the vampires of Requiem have made it clear they detest me—and the feeling is quite mutual—I am one of them now. I have nowhere else to go.

Abruptly, Pasha’s and Ivan’s smirks rise in my mind’s eye, their sneering and satisfied expressions. They knew , I realize with a sick twist in my gut. They knew I wasn’t invited to—whatever this is.

Is this soirée the real reason Odessa warned me to stay in my room? Why Dimitri insists I return there?

Are they... embarrassed by me?

“Is there anything I can say to dissuade you?” Dimitri asks quietly.

I lift my chin in defiance. “No.”

“I didn’t think so.” He sighs as if resigned, watching Lou disappear around the corner as that peculiar jangling sound grows louder, along with the laughter. “Fine, Célie. Just—promise no matter what you might see tonight, you will not intervene.”

I scoff at him, already squaring my shoulders and turning to stalk after Lou. “I could never promise such a thing, and I most certainly will intervene if necessary.” Because in the end, it matters very little that the vampires dislike me, that Odessa might’ve excluded me.

If they’re hurting someone in this castle, I am going to stop them.

We follow the noise to the north wing of the castle, creeping to a halt outside the door of a much smaller and darker hall than the gilded ballroom of the masquerade. Sure enough, a dozen or more vampires mingle inside. Candlelight flickers upon their lovely faces, the crystal-cut stemware in their elegant hands, from a single chandelier hung high upon the arched ceiling, and instead of marble, ebony wood comprises everything from the parquet floors to the paneled walls to the minstrels’ gallery. The quartet of violinists cannot mask the guests’ soft hisses and jeers.

Because in the center of the hall—trapped in an iron cage—a revenant shrieks and claws at its captors.

Lou inhales sharply, seizing my elbow as she too spots the poor creature.

Someone has thrown a goblet of blood in its face; the liquid drips down its skeletal cheeks in macabre scarlet tears while a trio of vampires laugh, baiting it with a spear. No. Tendrils of rage lick up my throat. Torturing it with a spear.

They’re torturing it.

As if realizing the same thing, Lou tightens her grip on my arm, or perhaps she recognizes the full significance of the situation before I do. Perhaps she recognizes the green ribbon tied around the revenant’s wrist, the shredded butterfly wings pinned upon its back, because she thrusts me into a shadowed alcove near the door in the next second. She dare not speak, however. None of us do—not even Dimitri, who darts after us with a vaguely sick expression. Do something! I mouth at him, and Lou nods intently.

Grimacing, he pushes us to our knees behind an urn. Like what?

A dozen eyes flick in our direction as he crouches too, but curiously enough, the other vampires remain equally silent. Instead they smile.

Long, sharp smiles that lift the hair on my neck.

They dressed the revenant as me.

The thought should surely incite horror. It should spark fear. Vampires are vicious by nature, yes, but such cruelty transcends the bounds of usual violence—that they would ensnare and torment a helpless creature just to send a message is sadistic. It is evil . When another vampire seizes the revenant’s wings, however, jerking its body against the bars for his friend to stab it, my vision clouds not with dread, but with rage. Because this— this is the truth of a vampire.

They are not beautiful, and they are not civilized.

And I want to hurt them. My entire body shudders with the impulse. I want to smash their crystal flutes and claw at their cold smiles, their colder eyes. With a vitriol stronger than any I’ve ever felt, I want to bring them the pain they’ve brought this revenant. If not for Lou holding tightly to my arm, I’d stalk straight to the cage and unleash it upon everyone. I’d relish the bloodbath to follow, and—

And that heinous thought is enough to keep my feet rooted, to send my eyes darting around the hall in search of Michal. Because if anyone can bring a swift end to this soirée, he can.

No telltale sign of silver hair reveals itself, however, and as my gaze slides back to the revenant, I realize Michal cannot possibly be here. Even if the attendees hadn’t dressed the poor creature as me, he never would’ve approved of something like this. No. I cast one last sweeping look across the room before switching tack to Odessa, but she too seems to be absent.

My brow furrows in confusion, and I glance at Dimitri, who resolutely avoids my gaze.

For someone determined to exclude Lou and me from the guest list, shouldn’t his sister be here? Unless she didn’t know about this gruesome soirée either. Perhaps she simply suspected the vampires would resent my return after All Hallows’ Eve, and she warned me to hide as a kindness. And who are these vampires, anyway? Do they live in the castle too? Perhaps they’re distant relations, or—

Lou nudges my ribs, gesturing toward the ceiling, and every excuse I might’ve given vanishes in a wisp of smoke. Because—it’s them.

Odessa and Michal.

They’re here.

Half-hidden behind the balustrade of the gallery, they stand locked in a heated argument, wholly oblivious to the scene below—wholly apathetic—as the revenant attempts to tear the bars from its cage. I stare at them in abject disbelief, my mind struggling to reconcile how two people for whom I’ve come to care could ignore such cruelty in their presence.

It is not my job to rein in Yannick , Michal once told me, but I thought—

My heart plummets.

Foolishly, I thought he might be—well, changing somehow, because the Michal who stroked my hair in that coffin, the Michal who risked his life in the grotto, cannot be this Michal too. His eyes narrow to glittering slits as he looms over Odessa. “If you do not reveal their identities, cousin, the blood of this entire room will be on your hands. Is that what you want? A massacre?”

Odessa throws back her head and laughs in response, but the sound lacks all mirth. “How rich to pretend you care about these people. Now let this go . No one brought a revenant into the castle. According to my sources, it found its way inside all on its own, and where one goes, others will follow. This is a real threat. If we do not address it, we’ll have much greater problems than ribbon and fairy wings—”

“Butterfly wings,” he snarls.

My eyes widen as I realize about what, or rather who , they are talking.

Lou’s nails bite into my forearm now. Lifting a finger to her lips, she shakes her head when I move to rise, her turquoise eyes huge and her freckles stark. Even Dimitri places a restraining hand upon my shoulder. My mouth goes strangely dry at their reactions. Because we have nothing to fear from Michal and Odessa, which means we have nothing to fear from anyone in this room. They just need to—to stop this, whatever it is, and release the revenant. Or perhaps not release it, but—

It snaps its teeth at a vampire who gets too close, and the rest of them jeer, shifting, pacing in a way that reminds me inexplicably of the cage they formed on All Hallows’ Eve. A cage in which they trapped not a revenant, but other vampires, before tearing them to shreds. Juliet’s screams ring in my ears at the memory.

And more than one pair of eyes flit to the gallery now, tracking every minute move of their king.

“Michal.” Hissing his name through her teeth, Odessa does not cower from their audience, or the vicious light in his eyes. Instead she steps ever closer. “I do not think you realize how precarious our situation has become, so allow me to phrase it plainly: if you do not protect this isle, someone else will.”

Her threat only seems to amuse him.

“Oh?” he asks silkily, arching a brow, and I crane my neck to look at Dimitri, silently beseeching him to intervene. Why hasn’t he intervened? This is his cousin, after all, his sister, his family . “Is that someone you?”

Though Michal’s voice remains light, his bearing seems to darken with the words, to pulse with a heavy and indefinable sense of power. Of presence. When he steps closer to Odessa, she winces slightly as if she too feels his weight. “As you have spoken plainly, Odessa, allow me to speak plainer still: I am king of Requiem, and I will defend this isle until darkness claims us both. If you do not agree with my methods, you may leave— all of you may leave—but know this—” His black eyes flick to the revenant below, to the vampires around it, who have fallen preternaturally still as they watch. As they wait. “When I discover who did this, I will find you, and I will make you carve a stake from your loved ones’ bones before driving it through your heart.”

Bile rises in my throat.

He shouldn’t be saying these things. The mood of this room—it feels different from the mood on All Hallows’ Eve. It feels poised on a knife tip, and my unease deepens when Odessa moves in front of Michal, stepping right onto the balustrade to block his view of the room below.

From my vantage point, however, I can still see him.

I can still see her too.

Dimitri. I entreat him silently, desperately, but he turns his face away from me. His fingers tighten on my shoulder.

“We cannot act in the interest of one at the expense of many, and we cannot—we cannot —lose our heads.” Odessa lifts her chin in defiance, and emotion much darker than anger fissures behind her eyes when she speaks again. Emotion much deadlier. “Otherwise, one might question why you sent me to a witch’s house in Cesarine rather than to find your own family. My own brother .” A bitter pause. “If Dimitri hadn’t found us in Cesarine, would you have ever looked for him?”

Dimitri’s grip turns painful now. He still does not interrupt, however, not even as Odessa and Michal lock eyes.

In that single look, something unspoken passes between them—a dark understanding—but it vanishes too swiftly to follow. “I assumed he was dead,” Michal says, lifting a careless shoulder. “Alas, we couldn’t be so lucky.”

Odessa recoils as if he struck her.

Beside me, Lou suppresses a groan while several vampires hiss in outrage. Worse still, one tosses the blood from his goblet high, and it soars toward the gallery in a magnificent arc, missing Odessa and splattering Michal’s polished boots. The room draws a sharp, startled breath as Michal glances down at the blood.

Michal, no.

He cannot hear my silent plea, however, and when he strikes, no one can move fast enough to stop him. He simply steps from the gallery and appears with his hand at the offending vampire’s throat, squeezing until the latter’s eyes bulge. Every hair on my body stands up, and my intuition screams at Michal’s reaction—not only the violence, but also something else, something critical that I cannot see or explain. I can only feel it. This entire situation—it does not make sense. It does not belong, does not fit , and didn’t Michal defend his cousin only hours ago? Didn’t he urge Odessa to speak with him, to listen to his explanation? He seems different now , he told her. He seems better.

Yet even as this bizarre sense of wrongness spreads, the atmosphere in the room shifts again. It coils like a serpent in the grass, and Michal has not yet realized the danger.

He still squeezes the man’s throat slowly. Too slowly. “You forget yourself, Léandre.”

“Stop this at once.” When Odessa materializes behind him, I do not recognize the blazing light in her eyes. Wrong! My mind screams the word, and this—this has gone far enough. Someone must act. When I move to rise this time, however, the acrid scent of magic creeps around me, trapping me. I cannot speak. I cannot move. What is happening ? Though I glare at Lou in furious accusation, she merely shakes her head, clinging to consciousness as she slides down the wall. Her eyelids flutter as Odessa snaps, “Stop this now . You are the one who has forgotten yourself, Michal, not him.”

The vampire chokes and claws at Michal’s hand. “Is that so?” he asks quietly.

“Can you truly not see it?” Odessa spreads her arms wide to encompass both the spluttering vampire and shifting crowd. “Your priorities have clearly changed—”

He snarls at that. “Do not blame Célie for this.”

“Oh, this started long before you fell in love with a human .” She spits the last as an insult, and I momentarily cease struggling against Lou’s enchantment, stricken. “This started with Mila’s murder. For centuries, this isle has been our most jealously guarded secret, but because of you—because of your obsession with these women—the world has found us. The huntsmen will come. Perhaps not today, perhaps not tomorrow, but they will gather their courage eventually. They will bring their silver and their hatred, and they will come.” In the tense silence that follows, the revenant lashes out, catching the nearest vampire by surprise and sinking its skeletal fingers into her wrist. She hisses in pain before breaking its arm. Odessa’s lip curls. “And the revenants are already here.”

Michal tips his head, considering her. Considering them all.

I resume my desperate struggling, begging Lou with my eyes to release me. Begging Dimitri. Because what Odessa said—it isn’t all true. I told her it wasn’t true. Revenants have risen, yes, but Les éternels have nothing to fear if they act with discretion; if they remain on their isle and feed with consent, Jean Luc will never lead the Chasseurs here. He’ll have no reason to do so, except for—well—

The truth of it dawns slowly, gently, as if even my subconscious had been waiting for me to realize.

Except for me.

I am the one who attacked him. I am the one who provoked a response. I am the one who revealed the secret of Les éternels, of Requiem, of silver, and I am the one who forced Michal to make his debut to the world last month. The tension in this room—the violence—belongs solely to me, but... what else should I have done? What should Michal have done? We were trying to catch a killer, trying to protect the innocent and avenge his sister and—

My gaze slides back to Odessa’s beautiful, lethal face. If Dimitri hadn’t found us in Cesarine, would you have ever looked for him?

Odessa set aside her personal convictions to follow Michal’s leadership. She set aside her despair at her brother’s bloodlust and betrayal for the sake of Requiem—because Dimitri was dangerous, because he allied himself with Frederic.

At last, Michal releases the vampire, who crumples to a heap at their feet. “What are you saying, cousin?” Though soft, his voice cuts clearly through the hush of the room. Shadows gutter across half his face. “Do you challenge me?”

Odessa stares at him. Her eyes glint like knives, and her hands tremble. “I do not want this.”

“Are you sure?” Michal steps closer, still tilting his head. “Clearly, you are not alone in your displeasure. Did you not plan for this exact stage, this exact moment when you invited me here?” She says nothing, and when he smiles, a physical chill sweeps through the hall; it lifts the hair on my neck, and I thrash harder against the enchantment. Please, Lou. Not even a finger twitches from my struggle. Please let go—

“And yet I ask you,” Michal continues, “who has protected you all these years? Who has provided?” Though his gaze does not stray from Odessa, he clasps his hands behind his back and addresses the room. “Huntsmen, revenants—they are but a fleeting moment, and we are eternal. Let them come. We will eliminate this threat as we have eliminated all others.”

Odessa, however, does not yield. “Célie will not stand with us when the huntsmen come. Are you truly willing to eliminate every threat?”

“As I see it,” Michal says coldly, “the greatest threat before us now is you .”

Everything stills at the words. Everyone quiets.

Though I still strain to move—strain to speak, strain to scream and throw myself between them—I remain motionless, trapped in this hideous moment as if floating in a dream. It feels surreal. It cannot be happening. I refuse to acknowledge the hatred in Odessa’s gaze as she looks upon her cousin, the disgust in his own as Michal shakes his head, scoffing, and turns away.

“As I thought,” he says in dismissal.

And she strikes.

Plunging her hand into his chest cavity, she seizes his heart, and he half turns—bemused—as his mouth parts on a shocking spurt of scarlet. No. Disbelief floods my system in a staggering wave, but Odessa does not stop. She does not falter. With a swift twist of her wrist, she thrusts outward with her free hand, and the vampires scatter in blind panic as Michal’s body crashes through them. And perhaps I am screaming now, screaming and screaming as the world tilts beneath me, as he smashes against the wall in the far corner of the room, collapses, and moves no more. This cannot be real. I cling to the words, cling harder to Lou, whose entire body quakes as she whispers frantically in my ear. This cannot be happening. Get up, Michal. GET UP—

“He will not get up again, Célie,” Odessa says quietly, and to my horror, I realize I’ve spoken the words aloud; Lou’s enchantment has finally broken. Still I do not move, however, paralyzed with fear as Odessa looks directly at me. “Longue vie à la reine.”