"No. No, and they have her. The fucking Indigo Court has taken her."
The sound of silence, and then, "Hell. Does Anadey know?"
"I told her right before I came home. Hmm, I think there's an invitation in the package. Ivory paper, red rose wax seal on the back. Should I open it?"
"How else are you going to find out what it is?"
I slit the envelope with my switchblade and drew out a heavy parchment-style folded card. The front read You're Invited . . . and on the inside:
From the Crimson Court to Ms. CicelyWaters.
Please consider this a summons to a party this evening at 7:30 P.M. We also have a business proposition we would like to discuss. Your presence is required, and your friends may attend. Address: 12495 Ranchivo Drive. Dress: Formal.
Best, Regina Altos
Emissary to the Crimson Court.
Sweet heaven. Or hell. An invitation to a Crimson Court party was like receiving a summons from the Queen of England. In a way, it was a summons from a queen. The Vein Lords ruled over the Crimson Court.
"I think Geoffrey got our message." I read the invitation to her.
"I think you'd better wake Leo up. I'll get off early and come home. This sounds important. Cicely . . ." She paused.
"What is it?"
"Regina Altos has a brother who teaches here at the school. His name is Lannan. He's . . . don't cross him. Don't get involved with him. Rumors about his habits and preferences are frightening." Her words were constrained but I sensed a serious bout of worry behind them.
"Why do you think I would?"
"Because Lannan takes what he wants. And from what I've seen around campus, you're--" Again, a pause, then, "I have to go. We'll talk more tonight."
I slowly put down the receiver and looked at the invitation again. Regina was Emissary to the Crimson Court. Her brother was a professor. A thought occurred to me and I dug through the boxes of books I'd brought back from Marta's house. Sure enough, a book that had caught my notice was sitting near The Rise of the Indigo Court.
Another history . . . this one A History of the Vampire Nation . . . The leather-bound volume smelled like garlic, and it had a silver belt holding it shut. Which meant that Marta hadn't wanted the vampires getting their hands on it.
Picking it up, I began to flip through the pages. It was typeset, not written by hand, but my bet was that there were no e-books or audio versions of this book.
The Crimson Court is the ruling body of the Vampire Nation. Ruled for millennia by a vampire known only as the Crimson Queen, the actual location of the court is held secret, and no living person knows where it is. Several investigative journalists who have made an attempt to track down the location of the court died odd and sudden deaths.
The Queen of the Crimson Court is said to be half-mad from her age--it's rumored she's well over seven thousand years old. Still other rumors place her as having never truly been human, but rather a creature from the astral plane coming into physical form. The vampire race was said to have started with her, but this is regarded as speculation.
The Queen has a harem of thirteen emissaries scattered around the world and they carry out her bidding. They are accorded authority above the jurisdiction of local vampire nests and lairs, and even the Vein Lords cannot touch the emissaries, who are--for all intents and purposes--the Queen's eyes, tongue, and hands.
And Regina Altos was an emissary, therefore not even Geoffrey could thwart her. Which meant . . . well, I wasn't sure what it meant except that Regina had to be treated with kid gloves. I glanced back at the book, rifling through the pages until I caught mention of the words deal and business.
A deal made with vampires can be a make-or-break affair. Throughout history, we've seen how the Vampire Nation has become rich through the skilled use of prognostication and by playing on the greed of mortals. Much like King Midas, many of those who could have had prosperous dealings with the vampires ruined their chances by asking for too much--or by promising too much in return.
From religious institution to world leader to rock star, a number of humans have sold themselves to the vampires with dreams of becoming rich, not realizing that the arrogance of the Vampire Nation is one that enjoys seeing others make fools of themselves, and play puppet for the Crimson Court.
Slowly closing the book, I thought about our plan to ask Geoffrey for help. Obviously, Leo had talked to him--wait a minute . . . had Leo talked to him? And if not, why had we been issued the invitation?
I set the book back down on the pile and took the stairs two at a time to Rhiannon's room, where I tapped softly on the door. No answer. I opened it a crack and saw Leo, dead to the world, sprawled in her bed.
"Leo? Leo! Hey you." Not wanting to take a chance on embarrassing both him and me--the blanket was barely covering his nether regions and I didn't want to startle it off of him--I raised my voice.
Blinking, he began to come around, then shook his head and propped himself up on his elbows, squinting at me. "What's up?"
"Need to talk to you about something. Meet me downstairs? I'll make you some breakfast."