Night Eight

Who killed Prince Grace Hartford?  What was their motivation? 

These two questions have tormented me relentlessly.  The simple facts are that Prince Grace was kind to me.  Genuinely.  Although I never remotely knew her she had my heart.  During the summit I was busy despairing over a man whose bright smile was merely icing a dark beneath.  Only ... in that statement am I talking about Jim Beasley or am I talking about me?  It all seems so foolish now.

As I allowed myself emotions to be turned at a whim, the unthinkable happened.  Perhaps it is was my youth that pulled the carpet out from under me.  These deaths are my first to experience as Kindred and have deeply shaken me.   

My grief extends to Mr. Marten Flagg as well.  At one time he was also considerate of me.  Giving me advice and the strength to continue on when there was nobody else.  In my fantasies he died protecting the Prince.  I like to think she died knowing that she was not alone.   

Politics.  My heart being ripped out was just a consequence of a mere political action.  When I sat down to think about it, a thread of events became clear.  People tell me things.  Unthinkingly they revel sinister details regarding the court of Chicago and elsewhere.      

This is what I know to be true.  Months ago there was an attack against Mika and Lord Reynolds.  Despite his personal feelings, Shane Anderson fulfilled his purpose as Scourage and stopped the assassination.  Somehow killing the assassin in the process.  Which started the snowball rolling down the hill. 

Months later seven assassins were sent to kill Shane.  Using his abilities as a powerful Merket he avoided death by turning to shadow form.  There is no evidence to suggest a correlation between the two events.  In this I will point to Occam's razor and trust the simplest explanation.            

The simplest explanation being the grandiose attack was from Flayed House.  After Shane evaded them I doubt they would simply give up and go home.  As the direct route did not work, what is the next step?  Perhaps they turned took their grievances to the Chicago court and demanded justice.  As they see themselves as enforcers of Invictus traditions they might have gone that route as well.  Seemingly, whatever their request, it was denied. 

There is another reason I consider Flayed House to be a large part of the conspiracy.  They had a presence at the Summit to my astonishment.  During the Invitus meeting there was an especially angry man throwing items.  When I enquired to who he was, I was told Prince Porter of Indianapolis.  That he was of House Flayed.  Sitting in the same room as the rest.  Making sure that he was indeed noticed.

At the Prince’s absence from that particular meeting Prince Porter was especially vehement towards her.  Joining in his complaint was Secretary White.  A former Primus of Ames, Iowa.  There is nothing else I know but I will keep eyes and ears open.  The truth will come out in time.  Somehow it always does.  Patience.

The memory I will hold closest to my heart of my Prince took place at the start of the second night.   After my little confrontation with Mr. Beasley I stood near the entrance of the main hall.  Surveying the room for Miss DeLilium and her entourage.  As Prince Grace walked by I stepped back with a small bow and smile.  Turning she saw me.  Even though she clearly had places to go and people to see, she came back.  Just so she could hug me.   A small gesture on her part but it gave me a connection to her.

Feeling the glow, I moved into the hall.  One of the first Kindred I saw was Lena Krisna and her pink hair.  Having meant once before we smiled greeting each other.  Fashionably late seems to be the Kindred way as it was still relatively empty.  Lightly I inquired if she had special plans for this exciting night. 

Nothing special was her response.  My attention was drawn away when Jim Beasley and Roger Lafferty walked by.  At this point I am certain they are conspiring together.  Not necessarily for evil, although evidence might suggest otherwise.

“I’m going to kill that guy.  That’s my plans for night.”  Smiling I was pointing at Jim when I knew that he could hear me.  So I was boasting in order to impress a pretty girl.   

“Don’t kill me yet Adrian!”  At this point Jim was still laughing at the joke.

“I like your bowtie.”  Roger drew close to me with a smile that betrayed not a thing.  Although on this particular topic I heartily agreed.  My bowtie certainly was quite nice.

Turning back to Lena I saw her looking at me regretfully.  As if she realized the existent of the mistake I had made.  All the while I was just being playful and not thinking it through.  If all is fair in love and war, I was completely screwed.  Just didn’t quite know it yet. 

In a rustle of taffeta Mika appeared with Lord Reynolds dressed as Cinderella.  Naturally she looked glorious and I couldn’t help but compliment her.  Alas there wasn’t much time allotted to fawn over her.  Too many events need to be attending too.  Beginning with the Catholic mass of the Lancea Sanctum.

Truly I did not expect to find myself in a church ever again.  Once I had told Mr. Beasley the very foundations of what formed a church made me uneasy.  Conversation with Reverend Jim had, even so, given me curiosity regarding the beliefs of Lancea Sanctum.  Certainly it’s powerful to be chosen by God to be his deadly instrument on earth.

My views is whoever God is, he or she does not bother with the affairs of earth.  Still upon this vague concept nations rise and fall.  The trail blood left behind through history for God’s love is stunning.  Viewed from that angle it is hardly surprising vampires are drawn into it’s doctrine. 

Yet here on ground is where I live.  This moment has greater importance than a possibility of eternity amongst the stars.   In the Invictus the power breathes and lives upon this earth.  In that is where I belong.  Play my cards right and it will be hundreds years and more before I have to face the emptiness of forever. 

The size of the crowd inside the church was impressive.  Many Sanctified, naturally, but the First Estate also had a strong presence. 

“Thank you for saving a seat for me.”

On my left Marquee Evengii helped himself to a seat.  To my right Mika sat prim and proper.  There was a smile on the Marquee’s face but his mood was more sombre than before.  When I remarked on the number of Invictus he replied ‘tradition’.  Leaving me to consider the possible implication of that word.  This tradition, any tradition, more than likely began before I was born.  Even before my late parents were born.  Before them and before any record of my family line existed.  With what measure do you calculate your life when time is no longer a factor? 

Years have passed since I have been in a church.  The prayers, the chants, the speakers and drinking blood from a goblet were familiar.  Thank heavens there were no hymns.   

"I am God's holy monster, the drinker of mankind. For so long, I could not see the role I would play, because I looked for it with human, mortal eyes.”

The day before I had become acquainted with Brother Brad Maxwell from Charlottetown, Canada.  As a Harpy he seemed unusually nervous and careful.  This was forgivable as he was new to the position.  The story he told me than was repeated now over the altar.  Like I had been, he was taken, embraced and than left.  Yet through his own death he had found purpose. 

“Sum Sanctus!”

The words were Latin and the crowd said them with great vigour.   As I did not know their meaning I could not say them.  As I see it now I know it means Sanctified.  Quietly the priestess, Cyanide Wax, gave her prayer and blessing. 

“Though you are Damned, your Damnation has purpose.” 

Faith is the foundation on which they stand.  On this Cardinal Eddie Brewer spoke with skin pale and eye shrunken into her skull.  In this she was passionate with her intensity.  Although many of their number had fallen, faith could be found even in mourning.  The Sanctified were above mortals and could not allow grief to pull them away from faith.  There was faith from suffering and faith growing from pain.  In this they would find fulfil their duty.

“Sum Sanctus!”

Feeling stunned and a bit shaken I left the church.  As I did not believe, was only moved, I did not partake of communion.  Carefully I made my way back to the main gathering.  My purpose was to myself, as I chanced to grow in power and knowledge.  Yet I could see the appeal of pleading to a higher power for validation on the sins of this earth.  

In the main hall I had the unfortunate pleasure of running into Nathaniel Redford.  There is no other way to explain him other than to say he seems half an inch out of sync.  Feeling charitable I offered to introduce Mr. Redford to Prince Grace.  This was helpful for hidden agenda of orchestrating a conversation with her.  Gracious as always Her Majesty returned the introduction.  Undoubtedly she had seen many new Kindred over the last two nights. 

A touch of disappointment followed when Sherri was announced as the Prince’s Harpy.  Always Sherri has been uplifting and the advancement made sense.  Yes part of had hoped it would go to me.  Just for the opportunity to show up Mr. Beasley.  To be honest I knew I wasn’t ready for such a spot.  Better to learn the ways of Kindred unobtrusively than on the frontlines.

As the Prince’s officer, Mr. Flagg was naturally at hand.  Sadly it seemed the transition from Harpy to Seneschal produced in him a new bitterness.  Actually more likely his Harpy persona had been a mask for the public.  Watching him hand his precious book to Sherri, I commented on how I liked it.

“You do?”  Disbelief mixed with disgust.  The lowered smile and warm chuckling was gone.  “Do you want it?”

“I would like to read it.”  Murmuring.  If he hadn’t been true then the same was to be said for his words.  A shame.  When he said he could see the future of Chicago in me it had helped me at that time.  So in the end that is what mattered.

Sherri had big plans for Harpy.  Starting with everyone liking each other more.  From now on any bad reports on Kindred had to be offset with good.  This was so sweetly idealistic that I could only mentally wish her luck.  At times her cheery nature seems too much as if it’s masking a secret.

“Sherri is a very maternal Kindred.”  I explained to Mr. Redford

“Aw yes but ….”  With large gestures she indicted her wish to give me a binkie and read me a bedtime story.  “I mean …” 

Wanting to spread the good news Sherri bounced off with Prince Grace and Seneschal Flagg.  Bored with everything Mr. Redford soon left as well.  My gaze was drawn to a conversation concerning a masked guard.  It seemed he had recently received some sort of position.  It was disconcerting not being able to see his face.  All the same I asked him what honour he had received.  

Plainly he told he had been appointed Regent of Elgin.  This spurned a memory of Lord Reynolds telling me of his rise to the same position.  Now concerned I inquired further.  My assumptions were correct in that Lord Reynolds had been the first choice.  Now due to his public display of temper he no longer was.  The new Regent was informed of my servitude to Lord Reynolds.  In caution he suggested I should be the one to break the news.

Knowing this would not please my Liege in the least, I sought him out.  Leaving the main hall, along with Mr. Morningway and Mika, we found a private spot.  As expected Lord Reynolds was extremely upset.   Even the words of his friend failed to calm him.  Dramatically he first wanted another duel.  Strenuously we warned him against that devastating course of action. 

Thankfully he relented but his angst gave him a longing for his homeland.  In the arms of Mother Russia he would find his relief.  Russia?  The hell?  Russia is not a place you can just pop over for tea.  Sense had no leverage over him.  Away he went leaving Mika and I looking at each other, stunned. 

Clinging to me Mika decided that we would be just fine.  Assuming that we could manage to remain together.  Guilt touched the back of my mind.  At this point I knew for nearly certain my days in the library were numbered.  If and when Marquee Evengii created a space for me, I would go.  At the thought of truly becoming the Marquee’s vassal my guilt dissipated.  Sweet as Mika was, I owed her not a thing.

Not long after Reynolds left many Kindred of importance began coming up to me.  In obvious impatience they demanded to know where he was.  Reportedly there was training from which he was absent.  In every moment that passed Lord Reynolds was digging himself deeper.  At what point did my responsibility for him end?  For now I lied about his whereabouts and hoped he would return soon. 

There was no answer forthcoming.  Moving back into the main hall I came across the Marquee.  Cheerily he informed me there was an Invictus meeting and it would do for me to attend.  As was becoming the norm, I was one of the first to arrive.  As instructed I stood silently in the back and watched Kindred file in.  Making sure to stay imperceptible as possible.  The power that soon filed the room made me wish to simultaneously vomit and run away. 

Behind me Cassandra was there to keep me grounded enough to stay still.  To my right Alder Rosso leaned towards me on his cane as if he wished for a snack.  On my left Isabella stood with Sonny.  At the end of the table was the most frightening man / creature I had ever imagined.  Imperator Protoculous never once raised his voice but it was as if he was yelling. 

Business of the Invictus was quickly gotten through.  Before the main focus of the meeting began.  Being the death threat Lord Reynolds had allegedly made against the Ordo Dracul member, James Beasley.

As if from the inside out my throat was squeezed.  It was all I could do was stay upright.  Not a single thing about this was right.  No threat had been made in any seriousness about Mr. Beasley.  Yet he had stirred the hornet's nest.  Every single one of these hornets had venom in their stingers. 

Just what sort of twisted vendetta Jim was currently engaged in, I could only imagine.  No matter the circumstance the words had been mine.  For Lord Reynolds to shoulder my imprudence was ghastly in and of itself.  Knowing this crowd did not operate under any type of morality made it worse. 

Yet there was no better admission of guilt than outright absence.  In that Lord Reynolds was succeeding very well.  Around me were demanding whispers wanting to know just where he was.  To them I breathlessly revealed the absurd truth, as I knew it.  Perhaps it would be better if he just stayed away.

“It was Reynolds and Merloy who were conspiring.”

My name brought my attention sharply back to the boardroom table of doom.  They were talking about me as if I existed.  When on earth did that occur?  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Sonny shaking his head at me reproachfully.  My only safety was in my anonymity.  Even if they had my name, they didn’t know who I was.  Yet all it would take would be their request to step forward.  If that happened I was as good as dead.  Imperator Protoculous had a mouthful of tentacles and they looked hungry.

A summoning was sent out, either by text or mental telepathy.  Just as I was losing feeling in my extremities, there he appeared.  Gasping I watched Lord Reynolds come into the room.  A list of his grievances was read out.  Beginning with his unbecoming behaviour the night before.  Absurdly Desdemona was eager to supply the details.  Ending with his most serious offence, the supposed coercion of Mr. Beasley.   

Refusing to meet my pleading eyes, Reynolds denied the charge.  After he was forcibly sat down there was much discourse on his inability to uphold Invictus standards of behaviour.  Purposefully they humiliated him.  Marquee Evengii asserted this was a matter for Chicago and it would be properly dealt with.

The words of Imperator Protoculous were whispered but crystal clear all the same.  

“I am a man of few words.  We are the Invictus and should conduct ourselves in manner that upholds the respect of others.  Meeting adjourned.”   

Kindred began to file out and it became evident Lord Reynolds was staying behind.  Holy shit he was going to die.

“Come on Sweetheart.  There is nothing more you can do.  Come on.”  Isabelle was literally directing me out the door as I looked desperately over my shoulder. 

Indeed she was correct in there being nothing more I could do.  If I walked in and told the truth, I was nothing but dust in the wind.  Yet inaction could equal the death of Lord Reynolds in my place. 

When relying this to Mika I told her as little as possible, but enough.  Moving away from the gathering we held each other.  In my arms she felt as fragile as bird.  While she held my hand on her lap I could feel the shape of her legs.  If I was to go to Evengii and Reynolds was dead what was to become of her?

Not far off Prince Grace and Seneschal Flagg spoke together in hushed tones.  Looking back I wonder if the feeling of kismet was genuine or projected.  That was to be the last I saw of either of them.  If I had stayed with them I could have done something.  Anything!  How long after my last glimpse that did they die?  Minutes?  An hour?  In moments they were to go from living, thinking, dreaming beings to dust.   

Still shaken I moved back into the hall.  Not knowing what else to do.  Two shadows made their curiosity of me clear.  Their names were not unknown to me, Micheal and Sydney but little else was obvious.  As if bemused, Sydney studied me through her sunglasses.  The menace in her smile anticipated too much.  The questions they asked were typical but I could feel them looking deeper.  Yes I was happy with Lord Reynolds and nothing was due to change …

It was the tell-tale British accent drew my attention over my shoulder.  There he was, laughing and smiling.  Utterly callous to the damage he continued to cause.  There were so many questions that needed answers.  Determined to be polite but firm I walked over to Jim Beasley.  After all he deserved an explanation if he truly believed I wished him ill.

It did not go well.

“Quiet!  The grownups are talking.”

Before I could barely begin he was insulting me.  Swallowing that back I tried to lighten it up by talking about his girlfriend from last night.  Any explanation I had was not accepted by Mr. Beasley.  His insults became more and more angry.  Then finally he geared up for the grand finale. 

“And the only way they remembered you was as the scared … meddling … little … girl!”

Those eyes of his were burning.  Nearly glowing from their spite, anger, triumph and an undeniable wish to do me harm.  The rush in my head hummed behind my eyes and filled my skull.  Reality had been pulled out from under me and lost all credibility.  The world had turned upside down and it was the fault of this man. 

Kill him.  There was no thought only an impulse.  A growing scream began far away and grew steadily closer.  Nothing left of me but a runaway train with nowhere to go.  How I longed to just fall into it.  Go to the place of no worry.  In that place there were no cares.  This was stimulation, reflex reaction, mindless and powerful but empty beast.

Was this who I was?  Needed to believe I was more than a mindless monster.  Potential.  If they saw potential it must be true.  The point was to find it and use it to fight back against the need for emptiness.  Straightening up I looked back at Jim and understood the expectancy in his eyes.  Purposefully he had attempted to trigger me.  Why?

Seeing he failed Mr. Beasley defaulted into normalcy.  Introducing me to Kindred who watched this with a detached fascination.  The simple routine of introduction helped me to calm myself.  Before Jim could make another attempt, his plans were disrupted.  Exuding calm was Marquee Evengii as he quietly joined us. 

“Perhaps you would like to continue the conversation now that we are in more distinguished company.”  My anger was still palatable but it was mine alone.

Smiling as a snake might smile The Marquee watched as Mr. Beasley became flustered.  Watching them a seed of realization began in my brain.  This was a man who was frightened.  Attacking me was not an act of hate but one of desperation. 

Caught in his nerves Jim could not stop his fight.  Had the Prisci really given the stamp of approval to assistance of the Harpy?  Yes?  Jim would have him know it would be checked into.  Not a twitch from Evengii, not a moment of doubt.  The aggressor might as well have punched a cloud. 

“Can I go?”  This was a strange question from one normally so full of confidence. 

“Of course.  I have no hold over you.”  Disdain covered by serene manners was Marquee Evengii’s speciality. 

Shaken and defeated Jim walked away.   The impulse was to go after him.  To make him understand my words had only been in jest.  Yet … could I truly hold myself blameless?  In every joke there is an element of truth.  The beast inside of me distorted my ache of unfulfilled desire. 

Pointedly I took some deep breaths to calm myself.  Too much was happening and it was becoming overwhelming.  Fate continued to not be on my side.  The predator’s taint alerted me to unknown Kindred on my heels.  Startled I turned to see a group of Kindred coming towards me.  They were certainly not from the Chicago court. 

Formally they asked if I recalled my acquaintance with a certain Lady Grace DeLilium?  You had to be kidding me.  The fair lady had been offended by my words and was now requesting a formal hearing.  Without saying a word it was made clear that either I came willing or by force.     

While being hustled along I attempted an explanation.  Hounds and sheriffs they were not interested in what I had to say.  Did I need legal counsel?  Was there any equivalent of legal counsel in this system?  If I made a break for it and ran for Evengii or Ivanovich would they spare the time?  Could I bare the shame of their knowledge of such an ignorant mistake?

All the above remained unanswered.  Forcibly I was sat down across from Miss DeLilium.  Yes this was all about blood herpes once more.  These unfamiliar Kindred of St. Louis turned their attention on to me.  Stuck in the spotlight I blurted out answers in old-fashioned jargon.

“If any and all offences I apologize most deeply for it would never be my intention to insult such a fine and upstanding lady as Miss DeLilium …  If by chance I did affront her by accident I find myself truly unsettled and deeply ashamed of my actions and only wish to have the chance to amend my untoward behaviour in the future.”

Enough of this gobbledygook seemed to satisfy them to a point.  Yet I was not free to go until I granted a major boon.  Truly I would promise anything to get out of the chair.  Carefully the Harpy recorded my pledge.  Trying to ease relations I told Grace of my assists and she seemed satisfied.

Undoubtedly that decision will come back to haunt me.  Cautiously now, I peered outside but when I saw Beasley I forgot vigilance.  Running after him I pointed out our need to talk.  Ignoring me completely, Jim walked right past me.  Oh hell no.  Not after everything that had happened. 

My anger grew by the moment as I continued to be dismissed.  Placing myself directly in his way only made him walk around.  By this point I was nearly yelling his name.

“Can you even see me?”  My annoyance was clear but there was also concern.  Very nearly it seemed as if he was in a trance.

“Yes Adrian.  What is it?”  Sad and steady, this was not the Jim Beasley I knew.   

“You took our game and made it serious …  What is wrong with you?”

The question related more to his current state than his previous motivations.  Yet there were elements of both in there.

“Cassie Twain is dead.  Now please allow me to mourn in peace.”

Unsettled I stood aside.  Watching my bright happy Jim walk away like a zombie of despair.  Who the hell was Cassie Twain?

My heart hurt in my chest.  At this point I only wanted to find a place to process the night.  The longer I stayed at the gathering the more happened.  The solution to all of it was obvious.  Only before I could do that I saw Alder Ivanovich gesturing at me.  Obedient to the end I quickly went to his side. 

The orders were to locate Jim Beasley and bring him back to Ivanovich.  My task was simple and it was my job to do it.  This was my determination to never fail Ivanovich or Evengii.  If I had to pick Jim up bodily that is what I would do. 

Even in his trance-like state it was clear to Mr. Beasley I was on the edge.  After inquiring who summoned him, he followed me blearily.  My condolences were extended despite my anger.  For the look in his eye was breaking my heart.

When I returned with Jim in tow I recognized Viscountess Olden.  As she conferred with Alder Ivanovich, Jim gave hesitating commiseration to Marquee Evengii for the death of his fiancée.  His what now?  The Marquee, for his part, just laughed it off which I’m sure didn’t help Jim’s mood.  

It became clear I had fetched Mr. Beasley, a dragon, for an Invictus Judex mediation.  The Viscountess objected to this at first but Alder Ivanovich smoothly convinced her.  In fact it was in the manner of an indulgent father.  That was touching in a strange way. 

Lord Reynolds joined our merry trial of gloom.  My status was too low to speak so I could only watch.  This time Reynolds did admit to making a threat against Jim Beasley.  My weariness prevented me from evaluating if the blame was mine.  The wronged party slumped there nearly unresponsive.  Yet he did find a way to twist the knife by announcing Evengii not Reynolds was my liege.         

The dispute was settled with an immediate boon.  If Reynolds ever took on another student he would need Jim’s approval first.  Easily promised and easily done.  The Viscountess asked if Mr. Beasley was reassured against Reynolds threat.  Yes Jim was assured of that but …  Pointedly and slowly he turned to look at me until everyone was looking at me.

Looking back now I wish I had met his eyes.  Showing him that I was sorry and never attended him harm.  Instead in that moment I made a point to move my gaze away.  For I do intend him harm.  Both of us knew it then and both of us continue to know it now.    

There was more business to attend to but I was dismissed from it.  In that moment I was more than a bit thankful to go.  The only thing I wanted right now was a nice long hot bath.  This was all too much, entirely too much for my small mind.  Seeing Evengii coming towards me I turned to address him.  Intending to tell him … I don’t even know.  At his words my mind finally gave up the ghost and just simply shattered.

“Not now.  The Prince is dead.”

There might have been shock.  I know for certain there was pain.  The air sucked away and the floor disappearing beneath my feet.  How I stopped my frenzy in that moment is beyond me.  Perhaps I did frenzy but there was just no one there to see.  Either way I lost time and place.

To the rest of the masses it was Prince Essex of DeKalb who solemnly told.  The crowds wanted to know details but there were none at first.  Easily Donovan McQuinn was suggested and then named the new Prince of Chicago.  One falls and another rises.  So straightforward it is done …

It was the new Prince who told me Seneschal Flagg had also fallen.  My resulting outburst of grief somehow pleased Sonny.  Undoubtedly he was equating me with Reynolds.  Such trivialities hardly mattered in light of my sorrow.

What's done is done but what's done is never forgotten.

At the funeral of Prince Hartford, Seneschal Flagg and Cassie Twain, Lord Jude Elliot proclaimed himself a villain and set himself on fire.  To me this does not solve the mystery in the least.  It does not end there even if that would be enough for other.  Murders do not set themselves on fire.  My search continues on.  The truth is out there.  I just have to find it, hold it and keep it for my own.