Page 24 of Besieger
“Augustussounds better. OrCaesar?”
“And what were you going to be—Pontifex Maximus?”
Emerick let out a gasp, mischief dancing across his face.
“Who else but me can preach to others how to worship and obey you? I can be the High Priest at the altar of your flesh. I will serve them the body of a worthierChristus, an eucharist of blood.”
“…worship in Béziers,” Silvio mouthed to himself, pushing Emerick away, finally setting some distance between himself and the mirror.
An idea had started to take shape in his mind of how his coven would look. He had to send word to Paris, arrange for a lawyer and secure a structure suitable for his designs. A chamber in the centre of the building, so that their presence could ooze and cover every nook and cranny. A private bathhouse where they could cleanse and wash away their sins and past lives, and start anew.
The French Coven would be gilded and covered in gold rays and painted saints and martyrs. He was going to hire men to build winding staircases and carve the wooden railings into vines, leaves and branches. But this coven would have the one thing Silvio had never possessed as a husband—a marriage bed.
I will build us a shrine, Silvio thought and reluctantly freed himself from the embrace.Our mortal gods have failed us, so we will have to become better than the gods at our feet.We will never long for anything, for I will feed this hunger with want. I will drench myself in this thirst. I will haveyousated.
He looked about, unable to appreciate the beauty or value of the things around him. He did not understand Ingenuar, so he could not see the sentiment behind this collection. The paintings and trinkets might mean the world for the oldest vampire, or they were trophies he had been gathering along his way, like a crow drawn to the shine of broken glass.
“So,” Emerick reached for a pocket watch next to a laurel crown made of gold, and flipped the lid. The arms of the clock had stopped, forever at a quarter past midnight. “Have you chosen a gift?”
“Yes,” Silvio nodded towards the mirror, noting their reflection, how the velvet and silk of their clothes was crushed.
“Where are we going to put this massive thing?”
“Wherever we want.”
His lover stared at the mirror, eying it up and down, the two of them stood in the middle of this treasure trove, two relics among countless others. It was comforting to know that there were things older than them; and that all these things, knick-knacks and baubles had withstood the test of time. Unearthed from rocks and sand or taken from an artist’s attic, here they stood in this private collection, unappreciated by the eyes of the dead.
Casting a sweeping glance around the room, Silvio turned towards the servant and nodded. The man returned the nod, keeping his eyes down a heartbeat longer. The mirror was to be packed and travel back with them.
The thought of the journey homeward exhausted Silvio, not because of the distance. The miles would melt quickly as they dozed in the crammed space during the day. It was the nights spent in close company with Dulior that irked him. She had yet to confront him for the insult, this blight he had laid on her reputation among the other vampires.
A part of him wondered if she was going to surprise him and stay here, left behind to mingle with the rest of her kind, dismissing Silvio and Emerick as they no longer served to entertain her.
“Arrange for my carriage to be ready. We leave at dawn,” he instructed the servant.
The man acknowledged it with another sombre nod, and stepped aside to let them through.
“Marquis!” Emerick made an exaggerated bow and kissed Silvio’s hand. Mimicking the mortal, he also stepped aside to allow the Regent to pass before him. “I suppose now we have to study German as well,” theComteadded flatly, playing with the lace around his cuffs, as they walked down the corridor.
Silvio laughed, the mirth bubbling out of his mouth, drunk from all the opportunities his reign promised.
DULIOR, 1790
The two of them had debased her in front of the Coven. She stood there, head lowered, her face red and chest heaving, while that whore of a man was allowed to drink the All Father’s blood.
They had made her play the fool the whole evening. While they waited for the Master to return, she paraded around the ballroom and watched Scarlett make introductions.It was a mistake to bring Silvio’s maîtresse-en-titre here.Dulior saw the gleam in the other vampires’ eyes and resented the idea of that thing finding allies within the Coven. He did not need to be here, not when Silvio was going to makeherconsort. Even if Silvio did not love her, he owed her for this life. And what better way to repay her dark gifts if not to elevate her to the station she deserved.
It was not time to renew their vows but Dulior meant to amend their marriage by choosing a new alias, one that would complement her new title. She wanted to see Silvio kneel at the Sainte-Chapelle and call her wife again. Her mouth full of blood so that when he kissed her, his lips would finally part and allow her tongue to enter him. Dulior had seen how weak he was when offered a kiss like this. In the early days of their matrimony she almost succeeded in coaxing him to bed.
Now, bitter and having lost all her patience, Dulior was not going to give him a choice. She would be denied no longer. She was going to have all of him.
That was before. Before the Master had called out for theComte.
She wanted to scream. The All Father had denied her due but repaid her in gallons of disgrace.
During their return journey in the carriage, she sat on the bench, her jaw clenched, nails digging in the palms of her hand. Emerick kept leering at her, his mouth twisted in a smug smile.
How quick he is to shed the livery and flaunt his new position.
