Red-Headed Stepchild (Page 42)

“Tell me something, Sabina. Who raised you?” Her tone was casual, but I knew better than to relax.

“You did.”

“And who taught you the skills you needed to survive?”

“You,” I whispered.

“Who did you swear fealty to when you were sixteen?”

I straightened a bit. “The Dominae.”

“Correct on all accounts. So, please explain why you are challenging me based on the lies of our enemy? Has he seduced you so thoroughly that you have become blind to the truth before your eyes? He will do anything to achieve his goal of overthrowing our power. Are you going to allow yourself to be used as a pawn by some half-demon scum?”

I swallowed and shook my head. I’d lost my focus and allowed myself to doubt the Dominae because Clovis used his charm on me. It was time to come clean. “He knows about the vineyard. He plans on saving the mancies and then using the situation to wrest control of the race from you.” Part of me felt relieved, but the other wondered if I was making a huge mistake.

She thumped the goblet on the table and rose. Crimson liquid splashed over the side and slid down the cup like a bleeding wound. She paced in front of the table. “Kill him.”

I stammered, trying to think of a way to hold her off. “Domina, surely—”

She slashed a pale hand through the hair. “Tomorrow.”

My stomach coiled. “I understand your urgency. However, I can’t just walk in there with guns blazing. His guards will kill me before the first shot hits home.”

She crossed her arms and skewered me with a look. “Losing your life for your race is an honor.”

In the ensuing silence, all of my thoughts took on crystal focus. Honor. The word haunted me my entire life. She’d drilled the concept into me from such a young age, it was practically my first word. Later, honor sealed my lips when she’d told me I couldn’t become an acolyte at the temple. Honor made me ignore my better judgment when she’d told me to kill David. And now, she expected me to accept a death sentence—all in the name of honor.

“I understand,” I said. She nodded, assuming I accepted the possibility of death. She didn’t get that I understood something else entirely.

I’d always believed my grandmother cared about me. She wasn’t warm or affectionate, and she drove me hard, but I figured that was just her way. If nothing else, our blood ties should be proof of some sort of connection. But her careless disregard for the possibility of my death showed me the truth. She saw me as a pawn—a means to an end. Well, this pawn wasn’t going to lie down and die.

“What of the mages at the vineyard?” I asked.

“Excuse me?” Lavinia’s eyes flashed with fire.

“What happens when the Hekate Council finds out what you’re doing?”

“You dare?” Her voice rose. “Do not forget your place, child.”

“Clovis isn’t the only one who knows. If word gets out—”

She waved my concern away with her hand. “War is inevitable. It’s only a matter of when. Your job is to kill Clovis before he can use the situation to stage a coup. If he manages to get into power, the Hekate Council will wipe out our entire race.”

Clovis. Someone else who saw me as a pawn. While my grandmother’s attitude left me feeling empty, Clovis had caused the death of two of my friends. He needed to be taken out of the equation.

“But why harvest the mage blood? It seems like an unnecessary risk.”

“When the war comes, the blood will give us a fighting chance against the Hekate Council. We will finally be able to fight fire with fire.”

My pride demanded I protest, but something else—something weak and needy—begged me to ignore my misgivings. I wasn’t proud of my need for her approval. Like a junkie, I rationalized my need, hoping one more hit would result in the high I craved.

“But you’ll only use it if it comes to war, right? You aren’t planning on forcing a war?”

Lavinia laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I intentionally try to start a war?”

I nodded and chewed on my lip as I thought it over. A memory of the mages at the vineyard threatened to test my conscience. But I shoved it away. They were mages. I was a vampire. Clovis was the enemy. My grandmother was family. Put that way, my choice was clear.

When this was all over, I’d have to do some serious thinking about my life choices. All this political maneuvering gave me heartburn. Maybe I just needed a vacation. Or maybe I’d strike out on my own for good, and leave the intrigue to my grandmother. The thought made my stomach cramp.

Now wasn’t the time for existential crisis. I pushed thoughts of the future aside and focused on the here and now. I’d forget what I saw at the vineyard and do my duty. “I understand, Domina.”

Her fangs flashed, making her look like a cobra ready to strike. “Excellent.”

I didn’t sleep well the next day. Despite the blackout curtains Vinca had installed in my room, I was aware of the progression of the sun. Each minute brought me one step closer to completing my mission.

I finally gave up on sleep about two in the afternoon. The cat slept on a pile of discarded clothes in the corner. Even in sleep, he seemed to feel the tension rolling off me in waves. His little paws jerked and his ears flicked occasionally, as if he was dreaming.

I used the time before sunset to come up with a plan. If I could get Clovis alone, I could do the deed and then get out of there before his body was discovered. I just had to figure out a way to get close enough without him suspecting my motives.

At around four o’clock, I got dressed and woke up the cat to tell him good-bye. He wanted to come with me, to help with the plan. I’d broken down the night before and admitted everything. I figured he’d seen enough to deserve the truth. But something told me to keep him out of this. If something happened to me, I couldn’t risk Giguhl getting caught.

At five, I arrived at the temple. The place seemed deserted except for mortal guards, since most of the disciples would just be waking up for the night. One of the guards called Clovis on the phone, alerting him to my presence. At his direction, I followed him to the office.

Clovis was already there, sitting, as usual, behind his desk, looking clean-cut in an expensive suit. I wondered if he ever slept, or if his mixed genetic code allowed him to be awake in the daylight like me.

“You’re back.” He waved to the guards, dismissing them. “Did you have a nice trip?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. I didn’t have the patience to deal with wordplay.