Since my conversation with my father and its aftermath with Keel I'd been experiencing an utter sense of unreality, like I could be unconscious and dreaming it all. War. A crown. A throne. Marriage to a vampire because a piece of paper my father signed guaranteed that wedlock would not only consolidate our power, but return my autonomy and win us some powerful allies. When I became queen, there would be no more locked doors, no more lessons - apart from those I chose to impart myself. But none of that changed the fact that this was ultimately an arranged marriage, replete with lands, treatise and citizens. The Nosferatu would become my people, and I would still belong to Keel, and it would all have to be consummated, and that's where my brain ran off the rails.
It was something I increasingly fantasized about, but felt in no way ready for.
But war was coming and we were the Nosferatu's greatest weapon - together.
Keel remained largely absent in the days following our engagement, while my father became my constant companion. He showed up at the door the night after the arrangements for my crowning were made and declared that we had fortifications to prepare and cast in advance of the coming battle, and His Majesty was wasting my talents by just keeping me sitting around on my duff all day, and that was going to end right now. The whole of him seemed imbued with a restless energy I hadn't seen in him before, but recognized in myself. So that's where it came from, I thought.
"There may not be any more time for formal lessons," he told me as we walked towards the stairs that led to the loading bay, "but this place still needs wards. And there's no reason you shouldn't be using your bond magic to fortify them."
"But that'll drain Keel," I warned. "Make him sick." My words fell between the dull thuds of our "kits" banging against our legs as we walked. The heavy, handled boxes carried an assortment of magical instruments and materials sorcerers required on jobs. Mine had been a semi-recent gift from my father, and together we'd been stocking it as part of my sorcerer schooling. I wasn't allowed to add any item or ingredient until I understood all of its magical uses, so my kit was nowhere near as weighty as the one Ephraim carried.
"I'm well aware of that and so is he. This is his compound and these are his people, and he's willing to make the sacrifice for the spell. The power of our conjuring will increase ten-fold if the magic is powered by three casters."
And so it was and so the perimeter spells were woven and cast, with Ephraim and me working side by side, and Keel contributing via the bond from afar.
My father picked me up every evening after that as we moved our preparations and casting from one series of corridors to another.
It should have been an exciting time, but things were so different, I struggled against the accompanying mental whiplash.
Evacuations of the non-essential and non-combat populace would begin immediately following the wedding and crowning, and the compound's Nosferatu were already deep in preparation for their departures. The declaration of war had stripped the last of the suspicion from their eyes regarding the sorcerers in their presence. That we let them stand nearby and watch us cast no doubt also helped. There would be no secrecy in how we were working together to protect their home and their lives. I'm not sure any of them believed we'd succeed, but stares of curiosity burned less than those of hatred.
My father also changed. The condescension and lectures I'd become so familiar with since meeting him in the parking lot in Niagara Falls had vanished, as had the looks of disappointment. More often I saw the opposite on his face now. Respect. Pride, and not just the begrudging kind, but the genuine stuff. I'd finally grown up in his eyes and he treated me accordingly. This revelation was born out by how he taught me magic now: blunt and matter of fact. Like Keel, he no longer spared me from the worst details of spellcraft or sorcerer history. If I would be queen, he explained, I would need to know it all. I would require that breadth of knowledge to make the decisions demanded of me.
It didn't shock me to learn that the sorcerers' past was as dark and littered with carnage as that of the Nosferatu. Keel and Arthos had always told me it was, and there'd been no reason to distrust them. Their stories were backed up by the displays in the museum and the histories in the Nosferatu texts. Even accounting for exaggerations, both cultures had a long, sordid and cruel history. For the sorcerers it was born from the role they came to occupy. You didn't become the supernatural world's fixers and enforcers without leaving a tremendous body count in your wake.
What did rattle me was learning that Ephraim had not merely fixed things. He'd also done "what was necessary." Which meant that on the occasions when a repair was impossible or wouldn't stick, he'd exterminate and supervise the subsequent "cleanse." A term I hadn't heard before - not in relation to sorcerers or my father's work - but Ephraim explained that it meant cleaning up so no evidence of anything unnatural remained for human authorities to stumble upon. When I'd left New York for the compound, for instance, he'd "fixed" things so that the police would assume I was just another teenage runaway, having trouble coping with life after my "abduction trauma."
"How many?" I asked, unsure if he'd share something as personal as his body count with me. It might even be considered the height of rudeness to ask. There was so much about sorcerer society I still didn't know and even with a crash course I doubted I'd be ready to occupy a seat at a table alongside other magic users anytime soon. And yet that's exactly what Keel and I had to do. I was almost as nervous about that as I was for my wedding and what would follow.
"Well over a hundred," Ephraim said, adding ingredients to the concoction we would deposit at fixed points along the hallway leading to the throne room.
I copied him, tipping items from my own kit into my bowl. The mixture would bind the magical triggers to the floors and walls, so they could not easily be dispersed with a counterspell. Magic imprinted on objects, salves and potions had more substance than spells cast with blood and desire alone. Of course, Keel already had physical surveillance in place but both he and my father worried that the sorcerers might cut power to the facility upon their arrival. Not to slow the Nosferatu, who would benefit from their superior night vision, but to disable any electronic assistance and alarms the compound might have. Employing a secondary, supernatural fail-safe was just smart tactics.
"Sorcerers?" I asked. Thinking of how much our body counts would rise if we were successful in our defense.
"Some. But I was called for plenty of other supernaturals as well. Some of those deaths I regret. Others I do not. Like humans, some supes are irredeemable and pose a constant and persistent threat to the community as a whole."
"Like Keel and me," I said, reading between the lines.
"No, not like you and the king," Ephraim said, banging his stir-stick on the edge of his bowl. "The creatures I speak of had already proven their intent with actions, with crimes."
"I've committed crimes. I've killed Nosferatu. I've broken my contract with the League."
"Not the same thing, though once, even just a year ago, I would have likely said it was. Now, those are the ones I regret; the ones who got killed simply because they wanted to live beyond the purview of the League, whether that be because they developed an affection for the human world or with someone outside of their kind."
"So people exactly like Keel and me."
He put down his stick and looked at me. "It kind of clobbers you over the head when it happens to your own family, when it's a result of your own decisions and actions, and you really realize what you are being asked to do. Unfortunately, I didn't get that perspective until much too late. Most sorcerers never get it. If you had been raised among us, you would have gone to school and then been channelled into a profession based on your talents. Since you take after me, that would likely have been in fixing, and that's a lonely life. Fixers are discouraged from forming relationships, from taking spouses."
"But you had my mom."
"A mistake made in a time of great weakness, and perhaps also great arrogance, assuming I could spare you the repercussions of being my daughter."
I laughed. "Sounds like we've struck on a family trait."
Ephraim laughed too, but his sounded hollower than mine.
"Is something wrong?" That I felt comfortable enough to pose that question spoke to just how much our relationship had changed and how quickly.
"There is something I need to tell you before your marriage, but I'm worried that-" he stopped speaking and just stared into the bowl.
"What, Dad?"
"That I'll give you new doubts."
"What's this about?"
"Has His Majesty told you how he feels about the marriage clause?"
I thought back to the conversation I'd had with Keel and all his appeals. "No, he hasn't."
"I think you should know it was the one sticking point in our negotiation. The one thing he didn't want to agree to. And it wasn't because he wanted to spare you. He didn't want to give up his absolute rule over the enclave, his power over you. There is part of His Majesty that is shrewd and smart. It's what's kept him alive thus far, but it almost- well, let's not get into that. What's done is done. Just be aware that this may not be as easy a transition for him as we'd like."
"But he-"
"He will do what he needs to do. Be how he needs to be to get what he needs done. But in the long run..." Ephraim trailed off, his words giving way to a shake of his head. "There's just something-"
"I know, Dad," I said. "It's like, will the real Keel please stand up, right?"
"I suppose you didn't need my warning then."
"No, but I appreciate it. Appreciate all of this. Really." I smiled across the bowls at him.
"You will make a fine queen, Mildred."
I laughed. "I'll be lucky if I don't get us all killed in my first week."
Ephraim turned serious. "Don't forget, as a ruler you won't be able to show those doubts in front of your people. Your belief in yourself and His Majesty will need to be steadfast, unshakeable."
"Then we really are doomed," I bemoaned.
Ephraim reached out and put his hand on my arm. "What happened to the girl who used to fight me to learn more about her magical identity and powers, or for that matter, the one who floated into the rafters on the wings of a very fine spell she cast with a vampire king?"
"She saw too much of the supernatural world. And then it declared war on her."
"On your fiance," Ephraim corrected.
"Same difference. They're coming to get rid of both of us.
"Then it'll be good for you to meet these sorcerers. I don't think you realize it, but you're far from alone in this. Many others, particularly in the were community, would like freedom from sorcerer enforcement."
"We met a were," I said, remembering the man at the drive-in. "He asked us what our plans for the weres were. Is that what he was talking about?"
"Probably. The weres have long wanted to govern their own affairs without sorcerer oversight."
I sat back on my heels and considered this. "And Keel and I are supposed to make all this happen?"
"Well, if we survive the coming war that'll ultimately be up to the two of you. I'm just saying you are not without a great many supporters, even if you haven't seen them yet. Who, for instance, gifted you your royal crown?"
I looked at him blankly. I'd just assumed it had been from Keel.
"A Nosferatu enclave in Germany, headed by a king who considers himself a collector of occult knowledge, though unlike His Majesty he has no desire to wield any spells himself," my father informed me. "And you do know that the Nosferatu Grand Council also had to approve your union, right?"
I took that in, stunned. "I always thought they were as conservative as the League."
"They are, but the prospect of sorcerer allies against their greatest enemy is a substantial enticement. Plus, they genuinely fear the king. Nosferatu have dreamed of gaining access to magic for centuries and now one of their own has done it once more. They see a tidal shift in power coming, with you and His Majesty directing it."
I sucked in a breath. It was almost impossible to picture that, though I was just a couple dozen hours away from my crowning. How could the entire supernatural world know about Keel and me? It had been strange enough being legendary among the ghosts, but this? This was like going viral times a million, because every one of those souls living and spectral expected something from us, be it victory or death. "Will we win this war?" I wondered aloud.
"I really hope so, for everyone's sake."
The morning of my wedding brought home just how far removed my reality was from that of the world topside. There was no bustling hair and makeup team to pamper me in preparation for my big day. No bridesmaids or maid of honour to joke around and help ease my nerves. Not even a bridal gown. Just me and the same bathroom mirror I stared into everyday and my usual assortment of clothes.
"You have a pair of perfectly good formal gowns that His Majesty commissioned for you," my father noted on the single occasion I sought to complain about the lack of a wedding dress. No doubt I was being petty, and there were huge risks to venturing into the human world while on the brink of war, but I didn't want to wear something I'd worn before. Never mind, did I really have to concede to everything? Then it struck me: I already had the perfect dress, and after I pictured it in my head, I knew there was no other garment I could become queen in. Bonus: Keel would love it because it would show off his marks to everyone in attendance.
As I dressed and pinned up my hair, I boggled at how different this was from any expectation I'd had of my eventual marriage. I'd never fantasized about marrying Keel, as one didn't impose human conventions on monsters, until one did. Or until one's father did it for you.
In the final hour before the ceremony, when there was nothing left to do but pace and fret, I had Ankor brought upstairs. This was not standard operating procedure but I trusted Keel would prefer it to me walking through the compound in my finery, drawing stares.
Ankor froze at the door, only one step past where the guard had freed his arm. He gawked at me in my red sequins, dark hair piled on my head but for a few errant strands that called attention to my pale, slim neck.
"You look-" he paused, allowing his eyes to trail over my body a second time, "like a queen."
"Thank you."
"I hadn't realized that was happening today. We don't get calendars down in the cells."
"It is."
Ankor, now over his initial surprise, ventured further into the room.
"Make yourself at home," I said. "His Majesty is making his preparations elsewhere."
Ankor considered his options before settling in the lounge, where he reclined on one of the couches as if he owned the place. It made me grin, but no doubt if Keel was here he'd be standing stiff-backed, scared to move or cough or breathe too deeply. I preferred things much more casual as I didn't need the constant, nagging reminder that I was Ankor's jailer. While that may hold some thrill for pure-blooded Nosferatu, there was none in it for me. Ankor also took to our small fictions, and they came to suit us both just fine.
"You know," he said, hooking his fingers around his chin in mock deep thought, "you might even convince some of the Nosferatu that they've been doing the wrong thing with women all along."
"Not likely."
"Well, I'd be willing to bet there will be a few more bleeders for The Mothering after today either way."
I cringed. I hadn't thought of that. Even my wedding day would usher in horrors for someone else.
Ankor took in my reaction and his expression changed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"It's fine," I said, slipping into the chair next to him. "It's the truth. It's not your fault truths here aren't always that nice."
"Did you want a drink?"
"That obvious?"
"I'm Nosferatu. I know the blood gives a little extra boost. Helps us face things."
"But I'm not supposed to need courage to walk down the aisle."
"I know nothing about that," Ankor said. "But I do know it takes courage to make history, to be the first at something. And I also know that if there's someone who deserves to be the first Nosferatu queen, it's you."
I was pretty sure I was blushing by the time he finished. "I don't get it, what does everyone see in me?"
"Kindness and fairness and power. A strange, but wholly attractive combo, I think."
"Don't let my fiance hear you saying that."
"I won't," he promised. "But I am starting to think you could have enthralled any of us, given the opportunity."
"Not true," I said, thinking of Boras and Keel's father, who'd be rolling in his grave like a log down a hill if he could see me now. "But I appreciate the compliment."
I slid off my chair, and kneeled in front of the couch, despite my dress.
Ankor's eyes widened at my unexpected deference. "Your Majesty, please get up."
"I'm not a queen yet, and you don't give me orders." I said it lightly, but Ankor treated it as a command nonetheless.
"Of course not. Again, I'm sorry."
"Ankor, stop." I caught his wrist in my hand. "I just wanted to tell you I'm thankful, for everything. I don't know what this crown means for me, but I promise I'll do my best to continue to do right by you."
"And that's why you'll make a great queen." He was beaming.
"Because I care about what happens to my bleeder?"
"No, because you care about people, even those who are different from you. Many would have wanted vengeance on the creatures who imprisoned them, tried to kill them, but you keep making sacrifices to save us. It defies, well, everything."
"I'm not sure what to say."
"You don't have to say anything." He twitched the wrist I still held in my hand. "Just drink."
Thirty minutes later I stepped onto the cool sand of the arena, buoyed by Ankor's blood and his surprisingly effective pep talk. The stands were jammed full of Nosferatu, from nobility and the council down front to commoners higher up. Clearly, every vampire on the premises was in attendance, even those who'd been ordered to remain at their posts. No one, it seemed, wanted to miss history being made. They all wanted to witness a sorcerer marrying a Nosferatu, their king marrying me. My knees wobbled. Don't fall, I told myself, repeating the same words I had murmured like a mantra the entire way down here. One foot in front of the other, Mills, don't fall, and no matter how tempting it is, don't turn and run.
I hadn't, and now I was here, staring out across the expanse of sand to the centre of the arena where a large platform had been erected and adorned with a wash of colourful fabric, streamers, flowers and greenery. Nothing about it looked the least bit Nosferatu, yet I knew it had all been scavenged from somewhere in the compound, as all supply runs had been ceased. I wondered who had art directed the project, Bruce or my father. Unfortunately, the decor wasn't enough to distract from what should have been on that stage, namely Lucia, my friends, my mother (was it horrible that I didn't even know what she looked like?), and my adoptive family.
Keel brushed his hand across the microphone pinned to his lapel, drawing my attention to where he stood at a podium centre stage in his crown and royal robes. As I watched from the sidelines, he began his formal address to his people about the rites they were about the witness and the treaty that would be bound with them and how it would benefit the enclave in not only the coming battle but for decades to come. The human world was changing topside, he intoned, and we needed allies and magic. And in a rare stroke of fortune, our compound acquired both just when it required them most.
Early in Keel's speech the crowd was restrained, but with each sentence they became more animated, embracing the hope their king was selling them, hope embodied in a lanky seventeen-year-old sorceress in a red sequin dress. Still too young to marry topside, here they'd place a crown on my head, and hang their entire future on me. The weight of that responsibility brought a return of that feeling of surreality I'd been fighting for days, and the arena swayed before my eyes. Steady. Don't fall, I reminded myself, imagining how humiliating it would be if I had to be carried to the stage.
Mildred. Keel's voice rang out in my head, strong, steady, impossibly self-assured.
I raised my eyes to find him watching me.
You look beautiful.
I glanced down at myself, catching sight of how each of the sequins gleamed under the arena lights. When I raised my head again, everyone on stage was staring at me - Boras, Arthos and my father, by far the strangest wedding party ever. Wedding. Party. The two-fer of words landed like a punch, and all the unreality I'd been warring with whooshed away like dry ice, leaving me feeling naked and exposed.
God, this is really happening. A shiver ran through me, and the urge to flee overtook me for the fifth or sixth time that night.
Don't, Keel warned. This is our destiny. Come and meet it with me like you promised. He raised his hand and placed it over his shoulder. If he'd been shirtless the tips of his fingers would have grazed my mark on his back. We've already made our vows, remember? Tonight we're just repeating them for the world.
A pair of Nosferatu servants dressed in black formal wear emerged from the side of the stage, where they'd been blending with the shadows, and unspooled a length of red carpet from the steps of platform to where I was standing. When they reached me, I stepped onto it, still shaky.
Okay, here we go, I thought, but my knees only trembled harder.
Keel spoke from the podium, "Please rise for Sorceress Sarker, your future queen."
The sounds of Nosferatu clamouring to their feet in the wooden stands echoed out all around me in a cacophonous din. A moment later, hundreds of sets of red eyes found me on the carpet, their hunger nearly swallowing me whole. I looked back to the stage, somehow it was less intimidating than what was all around me.
It's time, Keel said.
I looked down at my traitorous, unsteady legs and willed them to move. When they didn't, I kicked off my shoes in frustration. Screw the heels. Heels weren't me anyway. Part of being great was daring to be great. I just needed to be brave, and believe in my king.
I closed my eyes and managed the first step. Opening them again, I didn't lose momentum, but I also didn't look at the crowd. I didn't even look at Keel. Just kept my gaze pinned on my father in his immaculate three-piece black suit as I placed one foot in front of the other. He held it, and whether he knew it or not, what I saw in his eyes helped propel me forward. When I reached the stage, he crossed it, walked down the stairs and then guided me up to the middle of the platform where His Majesty was waiting. "That's some dress," he whispered.
I shrugged. "You told me to work with what I had, remember?"
"Well, at least the Nosferatu seem to like it," he said, shaking his head.
"You may sit," Keel told the crowd, and noise erupted around us once more.
By the time the arena fell quiet, Ephraim had retreated to his original spot on the stage, leaving the king and me as the main attraction. Keel stepped out from behind the podium and took my hands in his. After staring at me for a long moment as if searching for something, he guided me to the front of the platform where we'd exchange our vows and seal the blood contract. He and my father had written the ceremony based on a combination of human tradition, sorcerer contracts and Nosferatu ritual. It was an odd fit, but the breakaway sects of sorcerers and the Grand Council had all signed off on it, after demanding a few minor alterations, of course.
Once we were in position, Arthos joined us at the front of the stage, taking the place usually occupied by a preacher. He cleared his throat and began, "We are gathered here today to witness the groundbreaking union of Keel Argarast, our most revered king, and sorceress Mildred Sarker, his most esteemed consort." The body mic he wore projected his speech all the way up to the furthest reaches of the stands. "This historical joining between such disparate houses, such unusual allies, will not only bring together a man and a woman but will also unite the Nosferatu with the sorcerers for the first time in centuries. May both these marriages be long, prosperous, and fruitful.
There was a cheer from the crowd.
When the screams died down, Arthos turned to me. "Mildred, your vows."
"I, Mildred Sarker-" I began then stopped, unused to hearing my voice booming through a speaker system. Keel's voice boomed, not mine. Even this would take getting used to. Drawing in a breath, I started again, "I, Mildred Sarker, take thee, Keel Argarast, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to support and to obey, till death do us part." I swallowed and looked up at Keel, his eyes glowed down at me, and he gave my hands an encouraging squeeze. "Your Majesty, I thereto I pledge the whole of myself to thee."
Keel's vows, because he was already a king, were slightly different. It bugged me, but Ephraim, Arthos and Keel all insisted it was necessary. Some fights - the fights of politics and ritual - I would never win. And after the vows and the signatures and the sex, Keel's unique privilege would become mine too. Until then, I had to suck it up.
"I, Keel Argarast, take thee, Mildred Sarker, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to honour and support, till death do us part. I pledge the whole of myself to thee."
Boras approached and presented an ornate dagger to Keel. In the next part of the ceremony, I would take another of his marks in front of his people and then he would take one of mine. By the time the service concluded, our marriage would be bound in four ways, first with the oaths, then with the marks and the exchange of blood, and finally with the magic of the blood contract.
Are you ready, Mildred?
Yes. My eyes never left his. He'd once asked to be my anchor, now I only hoped he'd meant it. The bond itself transmitted nothing but rightness. It too was getting everything it wanted tonight.
We'd discussed the marks we would make beforehand. They'd be smaller than our other ones, just a couple quick slashes over our hearts, the middle strokes of the letters of our first initials. Keel, as in all things, would mark me first. He reached out and pulled the front of my dress down a little, then with a quick swish-swish of the blade he drew a smallish < on my chest. It stung like hell but I held my head high, accepting the pain, absorbing it into myself. The crowd scrutinized our exchange; the Nosferatu wouldn't accept leadership from someone who flinched. I wondered if my fear upon stepping into the arena had already doomed me, surely they would have heard it in my heartbeat, scented it on my skin. It was hard to hide things from vampires. I should have used a spell. I'm not sure why I hadn't. Too worried about the ritual and what would come after, I supposed. I wondered how angry Keel would be about that later.
They thought you were scared of me. Without knowing it, I think you've done me a great favour.
Why are you reading my mind?
Because you're supposed to be taking the dagger and you're just standing there.
I looked down and, sure enough, Keel was holding out the dagger to me and I was doing nothing apart from screwing up this ritual as badly as I'd screwed up the Induction one, and now, and now... Somehow I got my fingers around the hilt of the dagger and managed to not drop it onto my foot when Keel let go.
He removed his royal robe and handed it to Boras, as he yanked the black shirt he wore underneath it out of his pants and began unbuttoning it, I had a moment to try to calm myself down. I started by taking a series of deep breaths, the crowd wouldn't necessarily pick up on that.
Mills. My eyes snapped back up. Listen to me. Forget about all of them. Imagine it's just you and me, alone, upstairs. This may be for them, but it isn't about them. This is about us. You and me. Sorceress and Nosferatu. Everyone else - even Ephraim, Arthos, and Boras - is just background noise. And after tonight, when we consummate the bond and consolidate our power, that'll be even more true.
Not sure that's helping.
The red of his eyes flared and brightened. Then cut me because you're angry I'm putting a crown on your head and taking you to my bed. Go with whatever works.
Keel held his shirt open before me, waiting. I gritted my teeth, raised the dagger to his chest, and deposited my own V-shaped mark over his heart, unsure which emotion had fuelled my movement.
See, that wasn't so hard.
Boras, still holding Keel's royal robe, stepped forward to retrieve the knife. Once he'd cleared the centre of the stage, Ephraim took the space Arthos had occupied during our vows, and with a hand on each shoulder guided both Keel and I down to our knees. "Magic is of the blood. And through blood we may bond and be bonded. Blood is life, and through it we may live and be nourished and be saved." My father may have speaking but every eye in the arena was on the twin wounds spilling red down our chests. Mine because it still carried that faint hint of sorcerer sweetness and Keel's because no one dared cut a king, even ritually. And yet I had. I too found it hard to hold the king's eyes when the promise of his blood hung tantalizingly within reach, but ritual was all about perception and self control and I wasn't going to make Keel talk me back a third time. "Your Majesty," my father announced, "you may take of the blood that is now yours."
Keel leaned forward and pressed his mouth to my heart, lapping away some the blood that was seeping into the bodice of my dress. While he did so, I thought back to the Induction Ceremony and how I'd been sure Ephraim would kill us both if he ever saw me making vows to vampires and now he was presiding over just such a ritual, giving me away.
He'd rather I kill you than him.
Pardon? What did you just say?
I phrased that poorly. Your blood makes it hard to- you know. He didn't want to carry out the hit the League put on you, so he thought your best chance for survival was with me, but of course we all know the risks.
"Someday he may hurt you." Yes, we all know, I thought, as my father's words rang out in my head.
But not tonight, Keel assured me, spiking the bond with an escalating jolt of pleasure that threatened to destroy my composure.
What the hell? Are you trying to make me embarrass us?
Keel removed his mouth from my chest and straightened. He didn't bother to wipe my excess blood from his lips, which curled into a slight smirk.
Here's where it's going to get real crazy, he said.
My father turned to me. "Mildred, you may take of the blood that is now yours."
I leaned forward and the arena erupted just as Keel predicted. Royal blood was sacred; any ritual that shifted ownership of it would be seen as sacrilegious to those in attendance. I moved back without taking a taste. There had been a contingency plan for this too.
Keel did not rise to address the crowd. He remained with me on the stage, on his knees, fingers wound in mine, as if he would not be interrupted by their disapproval. I found myself thankful for the lesson he'd imparted about the crown and robes after our trip to the drive-in, because it had stripped away much of the intimidation I'd felt around him during his official moments. I still saw the fangs and claws and all the other things that forever cemented his inhumanity, but I also knew he could kiss me senseless, undo me with his hands, talk me down from ledges with just his voice. There was no one in the world closer to me and there never would be. As we waited for the outrage to be addressed, I felt calm, even safe, here under the spotlights with Keel. I hoped that feeling would continue through the night, and not depart when I needed it most.
Boras strode forward and read aloud the statement provided by the Grand Council. By the time he was finished the rumblings had softened, allowing us to continue. A Nosferatu may dispute the actions of their enclave's leader, but no one dared deny the authority of the Grand Council. Of course, they were also actively courting Keel, and I wasn't naive enough to believe that hadn't influenced their decision.
"Mildred, you may drink," my father said, and I brought my lips to Keel's bloody chest, losing myself to the ecstatic rush of pleasure and power for just an instant before pulling away, not allowing myself the same level of indulgence as Keel had. I was not a queen yet, after all, I still had a script to follow.
"And finally," my father was addressing the crowd again, "we must bind this union as all matters between sorcerers and Nosferatu have been bound for time immemorial, through the swearing of a blood contract."
He turned and retrieved a large crystal goblet from the table that Arthos had positioned behind him and set it on the floor between Keel and me, then removed the ceremonial athame from his belt. I recognized it, it was the same one we'd used when we made our first blood oath at the cabin. He passed it to Keel, who shifted the hand he was holding over the goblet. With one fast slash, blood from my forearm splashed into the glass. He held it there until the flow slowed, then lifted my arm to his mouth, making sure none went to waste. Incredibly sensual, it was in no way part of the planned ritual, but the Nosferatu in the stands were enraptured.
When it was my turn, he extended both his knife and his arm to me at the same time. Feeling none of the trepidation I'd felt the first time we'd performed this ritual, I sliced him with the same quick precision. His life force joined mine in the goblet. Once enough had spilled, Ephraim plucked it from between us and began intoning the first words of the spell that would join our blood as he stirred it. As he cast, Keel offered me his arm. Like he'd done, I brought it to my mouth and sipped away the excess. It left a hot and tingly feeling where it spilled down my throat. By the time I let go, I'd consumed enough to render me giddy and half-drunk on him.
Ephraim returned with the quill and marriage contracts. We dipped the pen and took our turns signing them, then we shared the goblet of our blood. Compared to all the magical happenings of our first blood contract, the sealing of this one was positively staid. No winds, no cold spots, no mysterious voices. Probably for the best given the stands full of onlookers, but I couldn't help wonder what it meant.
Ephraim removed the contracts, quill and goblet, and Arthos stepped into his place with a pair of white-gold rings in hand, each engraved with spiralling Nosferatu script. Still on our knees, which were beginning to ache from the hard stage, Keel slid mine onto my hand. "Till death do us part," he said.
"Till death do us part." I repeated, sliding his ring into place, knowing that despite our words even death would not separate us.
"Rise," Arthos said, and we climbed to our feet. Keel buttoned up his shirt and Boras slung his robe back over his shoulders. Arthos waited until he'd done up every last clasp of it before speaking again. "Your Majesty, you may kiss the bride."
Keel's hands encircled my waist, then he stepped forward and kissed me.
All around us, vampires erupted into boisterous cheers. For a species without a history of females or nuptials, they were getting the handle on this marriage business quickly. Or perhaps they simply appreciated a party.
As the crowd grew louder, Keel seemed to feed off their enthusiasm and deepened the kiss, wrapping me in his arms as if they were a solid cocoon of protection. An overwhelming miasma of possessiveness and ownership and desire seared out of the bond from him. He wasn't sending it to me, rather it was burning through him and licking its flames out to scald me. No, Keel didn't feel love, he felt this. If human love was a passionate kiss, this was a sledgehammer to the face. How would I ever survive it, survive him?
I'm looking forward to later when I won't have to stop, Keel murmured in my head, letting that inferno light him up.
My skin prickled. Ceremony or not, I wasn't ready and I was almost out of time.
When he had his fill of my lips, he let go and left me standing alone in the centre of the stage. Boras, Arthos and Ephraim had retreated as well, their roles in the festivities now over. All that remained was the part where Keel made me a queen.
I found myself beyond grateful for the glaring lights as they blinded me to all but a few rows of the gawking crowd.
The final portion of the ceremony was more formal and rigid than the others, not unlike the Induction Ritual, with me making series of oaths in which I vowed to uphold all Nosferatu laws and treatise as they applied to the enclave and our union and to Nosferatu society as a whole. Then those oaths were sealed with more blood. Unlike when I first arrived, however, this time I meant every word I spoke, and with each oath, I stood a bit taller, a bit straighter. When Keel placed the crown on my head, it felt lighter than when I'd first worn it. Likely nothing more than an illusion conjured with the help of the king's blood, which always invigorated me, but I allowed myself to give it additional meaning. Maybe I did belong next to Keel on a throne. Maybe I could do this. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
Keel turned back to the stands and addressed his people. "Citizens, may I introduce Her Majesty Mildred Argarast, Queen of the Michigan Enclave and Royal Emissary between the Nosferatu and the New League of Sorcerers." With that he raised our joined hands high above our heads and crowd roared anew. "Tonight, the Nosferatu walk into a new era of prosperity and unified strength. Long live the queen!"
"Long live the queen," the crowd repeated after him, chanting the phrase until the words became garbled and unintelligible.
Of course, Keel was exaggerating, first there would be war and tragedy, but the hundreds of Nosferatu in the stands seemed as determined as their leader to forget their impending troubles for the duration of the celebration. As the vampires in the stands began to rise and disperse, flooding out of the arena at every exit, Keel and I stood together and watched them go.
I turned and looked at His Majesty - my husband - and wondered what would happen now that I could no longer resist. Now that he had everything, how would he take it? Would he keep his word? Would he risk tainting the bond? How would tonight change us? That old load of worries was powering up to take another trip through the spin cycle when my father approached us, smiling broadly.
"Congratulations, Your Majesty," he said, extending a hand to Keel, who shook it with a respect worthy of his new father-in-law.
"Congratulations to you too, Mrs. Argarast," he said, and drew me into his arms. "I would have liked to see you in traditional white with a veil and heels and all that, but you looked beautiful up there. Powerful and confident enough to stand beside him."
"Thanks Dad," I said, even though my gut was winding itself back up in knots.
"He's right," Keel said. "You looked radiant. And before that radiance fades we should get upstairs and sit for our royal portrait."
"Royal portrait?"
"Yes, we will be painted tonight."
"Let me guess, Nosferatu are traditional in even this. Pictures too modern?"
"Pictures leave evidence we can not afford to leave. Paintings are art, and will be interpreted as such if they land in the wrong hands. Now, shall we?" He held out his hand and I took it, letting him guide me down the stairs of the platform, once we reached the bottom he looped his elbow in mine and we started down the carpet to the arena's exit.
"Why does it have to be painted today?" I asked. "Shouldn't we go and party with everyone else?"
"Nosferatu rulers are immortalized in oil when they are crowned. Lucky for me, I'll get a second chance at this since we now share the throne. My first one - they painted it in that house behind the motel, you know that - was rather disappointing."
"Is that why I haven't seen it?"
Keel nodded. "Not even Boras thought it should be displayed, and that's saying something."
"Just for the history books?"
"Something like that."
"So I guess there's one positive thing to sharing a throne with me," I said.
"No. There's much more than that." And before I could react, he had me in his arms and was kissing me again.
When he released me, half breathless, I asked, "Did you ever think you'd be saying that?"
Keel looked out over the now mostly empty stands. "Before the transition, yes. It was you who first opened my mind to those ideas, with a bit of help from Arthos. But that was before I understood what changing the world meant."
"And now?"
"Well, there's no real decision left is there? Either we change it or they kill us. I think I'd prefer to die trying, wouldn't you?"
I wasn't so sure. There was a lot to be said about going somewhere remote and hunkering down, even though that hadn't worked out so well in my past. But queens didn't run and I'd made my vows and put on my crown, so I would follow him right to the front of the grim reaper's line if that's what was necessary. But first, I needed to sit for a portrait.