Page 24 of Dark Fae's Destiny

The next few days pass in a blur, after our trio returns from finding Iris, and our real power, in Venice. Though the Music has finally stabilized between Lucca, Ariana, and me, we have no time to enjoy it as revolution seethes all around us the moment we return to the Red Letter Hotel Florence.

Everything that transpired in Venice was a match to the flame, as some strange synergy follows Ariana, Lucca, and me wherever we go now. As if the Music vibrates the energy of revolution all through and around us now, Summer Fae, Dark Fae, and Vampires begin flocking to the United Haven of Florence the moment we return.

It’s overwhelming and incredible; Curio, Devi, and I have our hands full finding places for everyone as they take my Master’s Kiss to join the United Haven. Not only that, but Dark Fae from the Hidden City of Venice come to us, too.

Brought here by the resonance that began when the Sages helped us.

It’s amazing, far more than I could have ever hoped for, as rumor mills churn like wildfire in every direction, now that we’ve liberated the Gold Eyes’ taint from our hearts, souls, and magic. I barely see Lucca, in deep conversation with Alleno, Adicus and Illyria, and many Summer Fae Magistros and military personnel who have defected to us.

Many of those are in the Darkwatch; old allies of Lucca’s now returned to him, he meets clandestinely with them at the Red Letter Hotel Florence and at our Livingtree, flying back and forth upon his owl Altenni so his father can’t track him within Summer Fae lands. I’m no less busy, as a veritable horde of Vampires from all around Italy and further flood to me.

Overwhelming our resources at Florence and Pisa—even spilling over into Monaco.

Some kind of alchemy is happening; I don’t know if it’s Iris’ daily and nightly Ascendant Sigils she makes to help us, or if it’s some property of the Music and the way it’s resonating between my trio and the entire United Haven now, but we have become a lodestone for those who would oppose the Council. Many come to us, speaking words that once would have been treason against the Vampire Council of Rome.

I hear them, each and every one, as I wonder where all of this will go.

This evening is a tense meeting that I do alone, however, since Ariana is busy talking with some Dark Fae who have arrived from the Hidden City of Venice, and Lucca is back at his Livingtree, speaking with influential Summer Fae once more. Curio and Devi are at my sides tonight, the three of us dressed to the nines in Vampire couture, since we are housing Vampire guests this evening. The sun has descended and night has arrived; we wait in the Hotel’s vaulted porticos at the east carport.

Waiting for our guests from Rome to get here.

A cadre of representatives from the Vampire Council have requested to meet with us, contacting us just an hour ago about their imminent arrival. I have no idea what we’re in for; all my people are on red alert tonight, only doing menial tasks as they wait upon my signal for a fight, should anything with these Council representatives go awry.

As Curio stands in a glorious white and black Victorian Vampire tux on my left, Devi in draping scarlet and black lace couture on my right, I wear a slim black Armani suit, enhanced by Vampiric details of black satin and lace.

I expect only subservient Council mouthpieces as three black Maseratis pull up now through the outer arches. As they park, the drivers waiting in their cars, the three representatives step from the passenger sides.

Shock fills me—to see these are Council members themselves, rather than just representatives.

I take them in as they approach. Master Parnassos of Meteora stands lean and gaunt, dressed in homespun wool robes as he approaches, his wisps of curling black hair around his balding pate and craggy face reminiscent of ancient monks.

Once a holy man in Greece before he was turned Vampire, Master Parnassos eyes me with dark black eyes that glitter with knowledge as he comes to stand before me. Giving a slight nod, he puts his hands in prayer, an old habit as he acknowledges me. I give him a deep bow, for he is the father of knowledge and lore-keeping among the Council.

He holds me with his dark gaze, as ancientness floods me.

The second Council member who approaches is someone I don’t expect to parlay with me on any occasion. As the haughty and impeccably dressed Mistress of Romania, Elena Iliescu, steps from her vehicle, she wears a slim white pantsuit that shows off her buxom curves, her honey-blonde hair expertly curled, with spiked crimson stilettos even Devi would swoon over.

I know who the thorn in tonight’s meeting is going to be, as I set my jaw hard. She comes to me, cleverness glittering in her light blue eyes as she purses her crimson lips at me.

“Quinn,” she says, giving me a sniff and extending her hand like royalty for me to kiss.

“Mistress Iliescu. Be welcome.” I only nod rather than taking her hand, because we are not friends nor are we allies, and I do not consider myself her peon. She gazes at me for a moment, and then the slyest smile curls her lips as she shakes her head.

Rolling her eyes and facing the last Council member here tonight.

With piercing chartreuse eyes and dark ebony skin, the tall, lean man who comes to us now is of indeterminate age. Dressed in a simple grey suit and shirt with shiny black dress shoes, Master Djalu of Uluru, once known as Ayers Rock in Australia, is not a known creature in the Twilight Realm.

Though he was Sired as a Vampire ages ago, some say even thirty thousand years or more, his original species is unknown, gone in modern times. A subtle, simmering lightning crackles all around him like a Storm Dragon as he approaches. It flickers in those ancient chartreuse eyes, though Master Djalu is no Dragon.

He’s an unknown creature of unknown power as he arrives before me, quiet. His presence is utterly ancient, nearly akin to that of Iris and Staphylogenes as he regards me.

Then gestures inside my establishment. “Invite us in, Master DaPonti. For we should talk.”

“Do come in,” I say wryly now, because I have no idea what these three are doing here, much less all together. As far as I know, Master Parnassos and Mistress Iliescu hate each other, always at-odds upon the Council, and Master Djalu involves himself in no drama whatsoever, though his ancientness and power often tip the scales when there are important decisions to be made.

But what these three are doing here right now, when the Council usually sends underlings to do their talking outside of Rome, I have no clue.

Nodding for Devi and Curio to step behind us, I gesture elegantly for the three Council members to enter the Hotel. I lead, as Master Djalu walks calmly beside me, to a Hotel drawing room on the third floor that is reserved for staff meetings. It was the best I could do on such short notice; we have given our other halls over to extra beds and makeshift rooms, to house all those who have been coming to us.

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