Wonderful.
I flexed the hand that had wielded the sword to secure my crown. The wrist was still sore from the tattoo I had insisted on—the royal seal, reminding me always what I had done. My chuckle was bitter. “I never wanted my name associated with his. Even if he did love my mother.”
“So you do believe he loved her.”
“He must have at some point.”
He grinned. “You will be a queen to be reckoned with.”
He strolled away, heading for the rest of the overlords seated on the dais in the center. They formed a pentacle around the center throne, where the silver crown sat waiting. Lord Belshazzar was at the topmost point, and that’s where I would face when I took the—my—throne.
Their red and gold capes were trimmed with black-dyed ermine, but each was unique, reflecting the era each had become an overlord. Lord Pippin’s was the newest, appearing like something out of the painting “The Coronation of Napoleon,” and when I told him that, he winked and said he was there in the painting. I merely rolled my eyes. Lord Belshazzar’s looked like something out of a bad movie about troglodytes, and I told him that, too. He didn’t appreciate my cracks about his age—too bad, he should start to get used to it.
My own cloak was made of deep red velvet and gold embroidery, with the smallest edge of ermine I could get away with. I hated fur. I didn’t look good in it, and as a queen, I wanted to look really damn good.
I had to for Adelie.
I wanted to for the vampires I was about to rule.
Two days after they pulled me out of my mourning, they had me at the foot of the throne, ready to take my crown. I glanced at the tattoo and balled my fist again. Everything we’d fought for, right here, right now.
Lord Belshazzar stood and motioned me forward from where I was standing. There was very little pomp and circumstance in this ceremony because it was so ancient and so rare. I walked forward, cloak flowing behind, the black dress I’d chosen rustling quietly through the hushed audience. I never wore dresses, but I felt it was necessary this time.
Plus, I was strapped underneath.
A gun on my thigh, a gun at my knee, a garter of ammo, and a short sword strapped to my other leg. Let anyone try anything with me. I didn’t care who I killed at this point.
At the bottom of the stairs, Nial stood, and I couldn’t read him. I didn’t know if he was happy, pissed off, shocked, or exhausted. Maybe all four. On the other side were Felicia and Melchior. The stairs to the dais guarded by those who had witnessed my last trial.
I had been shocked to find out that no one had leaked the last trial, but then Lord Pippin had explained they had taken advantage of Niallan’s druid heritage and had him bind everyone to silence. No one in that room would, or even could, speak of what they had seen, not even to one another if there was a remote chance that anyone could hear them. Their tongues would not work.
They had also carefully crafted a story about Adelie’s unfortunate car accident that cleaved her head from her shoulders. It was easily done, and the pictures were suitably horrific in the local papers the next day.
The assholes had used my Lamborghini.
My beautiful, black estrogen mobile.
I was pissed. They owed me a new one.
I’d had a meeting with Felicia and Melchior when I came out of mourning. I found them to be marvelous allies. Maybe I couldn’t figure out which of the overlords would be a good liaison, but I knew those two were loyal.
Both Felicia and Niallan halted me with crossed swords.
They studied me.
Niallan eventually spoke. “I am the Monitor of the fourth Challenge. It shall be known to the people of the Black Heart crown that Gwynnore of Luxor, taking her grandfather’s name, has satisfied all conditions of the Challenge, as they were presented to her, by my eyes. This is sworn to by my blood.”
Felicia flipped the sword over and sliced down on Nial’s palm, scoring the skin and drawing blood.
“I am a Witness of Final Challenge,” Felicia called out to the massive audience. “It shall be known to the people of the Black Heart crown that Gwynnore of Luxor, taking her grandfather’s name, has satisfied all conditions of the Challenge as they were presented to her, by my eyes. This is sworn to by my blood.”
This time, Nial scored her skin and drew blood.
They held the swords aloft and allowed me to pass, touching the bloodied tips to the edge of the golden embroidered swords designed into the cloak I wore. As good a blessing as any vampire got.
As they mounted the stairs carefully and steadily, the five overlords stood, until one foot in front of the other placed me in front of the throne.
With a rustle, the cloak was arranged, but I didn’t sit.
Lord Belshazzar commanded the audience’s attention with his authoritative voice. “Gwynnore of Luxor, the Council of Overlords, has called you and seen that you have passed all five Challenges, along with the approval of the Monitor of Challenge and Witness of the Final Challenge. Upon this moment, you are hereby the Queen of Vampires, the Queen of Gods. We welcome you to the throne with your crown.”
Lord Pippin ambled up from behind me and held the crown out for me to take.
I grinned. I was sure that everyone watching was thinking I was smiling because I had won this crown and finally had it in my hands. It wasn’t though. It was my personal victory that no one crowned me. Only I was suited to put the crown on my own head as the queen.
I held it aloft and lowered it down until it felt just right on my head.
In fact, it felt more than just right.
It was as if it were settling in and had finally found its proper home.
Which it had. This was who I was meant to be.
Lord Belshazzar spoke again, “Gwynnore of Luxor, as the Queen of Vampires, the Queen of Gods, you are hereby granted the Black Heart Star, the very heart of your subjects. It must always be worn and guarded. Without it, you are diminished, your crown tarnished. So it has been since the beginning of time, and so it shall continue.”
This time, Cato held out a small, exquisite pillow with the ring placed on it. The crown was beautiful but impractical. This ring, with its dark black star sapphire shining from the setting, was the real sign of power, the signet that identified the queen at all times.
Some sick bastard dared to have my father offer this ring and pass the legacy to me, a legacy he had abandoned me for.
I lifted the Black Heart and slipped it on my finger on my right hand.
It was done.
I was the Queen of Gods.
The chamber erupted in applause and cheers.
I marched the curve of the dais once, looking at all the vampires that had gathered to welcome me. There were thousands here, and there were thousands more in enclaves around the world watching me as I walked.
With my head held high, I was finally where I was meant to be.
*