as though it would certainly be intense, just as Tristan had predicted. I pressed my hands against my stomach, which twisted and turned with anxiety over Rina's request.
'We're ready to begin,' announced a low, booming voice.
Solomon stood at the door, beckoning all of us. I tried not to stare at him, but it was nearly impossible. After all, he was a real, live (or real, dead?) vampire. Now that I knew what to watch for, I realized he did look like a vamp, something I hadn't noticed the other times I'd seen him. His complexion was an exotic ash color–the vampire paleness of someone who'd originally been dark-skinned. His features were broad and beautiful, his hair in cornrows, the front pulled back into a ponytail, and he had an accent I was sure originated somewhere in the Caribbean. He smiled at us and his fangs were short, barely longer than a Norman's eyeteeth, much less threatening than Vanessa's and the other vampires' fangs had been.
Solomon wasn't the first vampire I'd seen in person, but he was the first good one I knew. Yet, as he continued smiling, my stomach tightened more with fear.
Rina joined him at the door, winding her arm with his. Mom stepped behind her and Tristan and I stood behind Mom. Tristan took my hand as Owen led us through the door and down a short hallway. Seeing Mom alone between Solomon and Rina and Tristan and me made my heart ache for her. She'd given up any chance for a real mate–one who could handle her love and passion–to stay with me in the normal world. She'd had a handful of Norman boyfriends throughout my childhood, but none could give her true companionship. Even if she could have revealed her true identity, they would have never understood … and never survived.
We stopped at a doorway as Owen stepped inside and announced the matriarch's entry. Wood scraped against stone–the sound of people rising to their feet–and then silence reigned. Rina and Solomon led us inside. Pillars lined the long sides of the rectangular room and on the walls at each end hung a large, ornate cross centered between two angels. But not peaceful, praying angels or cute cherubs–these angels brandished swords, daggers and other weapons, their expressions fierce and their muscles large and defined, as if tensed for a fight.
At the center of the room stood a giant, round, wooden table with throne-like seats surrounding it. In front of all but five chairs stood an Amadis council member, their heads bowed. Rina and Solomon led us to the empty seats. Solomon sat on Rina's left and Mom on her right. Mom and Tristan indicated I was to sit between them. Owen stood behind me. I felt as though I sat at King Arthur's Round Table right in the middle of Athena's temple.
As soon as the five of us took our seats, everyone else sat down, too.
Rina launched the meeting with a prayer, followed by swearing Charlotte in as 'the second's chosen confidante.' I'd gone through the Ang'dora and also had Tristan by my side, so Mom no longer needed to give me her full-time attention and protection. She would become a more permanent fixture on the council and, apparently, had chosen Char to be her personal advisor. Rina then introduced me to the council and Tristan officially as a member of the royal family. As soon as she said this, the room temperature seemed to drop a degree or two while the air thickened. I thought I'd imagined it until–
'Ms. Katerina,' murmured a man across the table from me. Well, not a man. A vampire, with dark, shoulder-length hair swept back from his lovely face, and an accent that rolled the 'r' in a way that would make most women's thighs tense.
'Yes, Armand?'
'Are you sure–'
Rina didn't let him finish. 'I am aware of your feelings. You have made them clear to me. And yes, I am sure. Do not forget we have given you a second chance.'
Armand pursed his lips and stared at the wooden table. Rina had effectively silenced him. The tension remained in the air, however, and I had a feeling Armand wasn't the only one who had an issue with Tristan and his place at the table or in the family. Whoever I'd heard in the village was definitely one of these people at this table. I scanned the unfamiliar faces until my eyes landed on one I had seen before–the first guy, the blond Were, who had called Tristan a traitor. His dark eyes narrowed at me for a brief moment. It was time I went to work.
But Rina immediately distracted me when she mentioned a coronation ceremony–as in the official crowning of Tristan and me. In front of a crowd of strangers. My insides squirmed. The conversation didn't last long, but my stomach still spasmed as Rina moved on to the next subject.
'Are there any regional updates since our last meeting of a few days ago?' she asked.
A woman of Asian descent, wearing a silver kimono and a ridiculous green hat the Queen of England would admire, stood first and delivered her report. I listened, taking time to become acclimated to the council before starting my task. That was my excuse anyway, but to be honest, nerves kept my mind from going there. The council members–not just creatures from my books, but the most powerful ones of our society–were intimidating enough. What if I screwed up? What if my wall fell and everyone found out what I was doing? I didn't have the best control under ideal circumstances, and now I'd been thrown to the wolves. Part of me wanted to know what was going on, but the other part hid like a coward.
The Asian woman said the Daemoni had pulled back, with the last two attacks in China and Vietnam nearly twenty-four hours ago, about the same time Vanessa found Tristan and me in the Aegean Sea. Finding us was easy for the vamp–she'd drank my blood, creating a connection between us. It wouldn't last, though. As she burned through my blood, consuming it as a fire consumes fuel, the connection would weaken and disappear. That's what Tristan had told me, anyway.
Other council members simply said they'd experienced the same in their regions, although two had suffered rogue attacks. One this morning had delayed two council members.
Amadis all over the world were on edge, knowing attacks could resume at any time, and the council briefly discussed options for fighting back, but I tuned them out. The Ang'dora had enlarged the capacity of my brain, or, at least, allowed me to engage those parts most humans never do use, but I still had difficulty following the conversation, being unfamiliar with my new world–or with war strategy, for that matter. I observed my subjects a little longer, needing to gain a better understanding of them before tapping into their minds.
Besides Solomon and Armand, the French vampire who'd been shut down by Rina, the only other vampire on the council was Julia, who I recognized from the Keys. As Owen had mentioned, Julia definitely appeared to be a closer advisor to Rina than the rest of the council, besides Solomon. Rina looked to her often and I suspected they exchanged silent communication frequently, though Julia never spoke aloud. The dark-haired vampire had eyed me during the meeting's opening, more closely than everyone else, scrutinizing me just as she had done at the beach house. She still felt wrong to me, though I couldn't explain the feeling.
Armand, it became apparent, oversaw the Amadis equivalent of the police–the group who ensured Amadis people managed themselves responsibly, whether within the Amadis society or while mainstreaming in the Norman world. In other words, that they didn't bite or curse people.
My gaze skimmed over the were-animals, who were nearly as mesmerizing as the vampires and easier to identify than I expected. I couldn't distinguish by sight exactly what kind of Were each was–by possessing animal bodies, the Ancients had created a Were bloodline in the form of every predatory animal on Earth. I thought one woman may have been a bird, perhaps an eagle or falcon. With thin limbs but powerful-looking shoulders and chest, round eyes and a long nose, she certainly looked like a bird.
I identified the mages easily, too–not only because they obviously weren't vamps or Weres, but while in the village, Tristan had pointed out their eccentric tastes, including their fashion styles. It wasn't so easy determining what kind of mage each was–a female witch, a male wizard, or a more powerful warlock. All I knew was they weren't sorcerers because according to Owen, the Amadis didn't have any.
'Martin,' Rina said, the name catching my attention, 'your intelligence update, please.'
The man sitting next to Charlotte stood and I bit off a small sound of surprise. I'd expected to see an older version of Owen, but my protector definitely took after his mother, except his stature, which was exactly like his father's–tall with long, sinewy muscles wrapping their lean frames.
'Yes, Ms. Katerina,' Martin said, giving her a nod. He scrubbed his hand through his shoulder-length, black hair, just as Owen would do, and, like Owen, three lines appeared between his eyebrows when he pushed them together in thought. The resemblance stopped there, however. Besides his dark hair that was nearly opposite Owen's blond, Martin's blue eyes were several shades lighter than Owen's and set into a fine-boned face that made me think 'pretty boy.'
