The chapel still smelled of myrrh. The heady scent reminded me of my childhood and watching my grandmother perform the sacred ceremonies. I used to watch the secret incantations and breathe in the mysterious aromas with childish awe. Those days, my grandmother was a goddess—the breathing embodiment of the Great Mother, Lilith. Back then, before I knew better, I dreamed of following in her footsteps.
I ran my hands lightly over the red velvet covering the altar, lost in thought. Now she was more like a benevolent dictator—light on the benevolence, if truth be told. I knew part of her hardness had nothing to do with me. After my mother’s ill-fated love affair with a mage, which resulted in both their deaths, my grandmother turned all her focus on me. It was as if she wanted me to be everything my mother wasn’t and couldn’t be. But my mixed blood prevented me from ever really being accepted into mainstream vamp society. So she raised me to be the best vampire I could be, despite the limitations of my birth.
Honestly? Sometimes, I resented being blamed for something I had no control over. And my grandmother’s constant expectations and pressure ate at me. But I believed she’d done the best by me she could.
I tried not to think about why she asked me to kill David. Going there in my head led to questions I wasn’t quite ready to face. Surely, I reasoned, she had a plan. Maybe I didn’t understand it or like it, but sometimes loyalty asks things of us we don’t quite understand. At least, that’s what my grandmother had taught me.
As if summoned by my thoughts, she walked in. She glanced at me and then closed the door quickly.
“We don’t have much time to talk,” she said. “The acolytes will arrive shortly for prayer.”
She moved forward toward the altar and knelt. As she touched her head to the floor, I stood silent. When she rose, candles around the altar sputtered to life without the aid of matches. Next, she lifted the golden lotus figurine and kissed it. That done, she turned to me.
“What news?”
I knew we didn’t have much time, but part of me longed for some hint of warmth from her. Pushing the thought aside, I got down to business.
“I’m leaving tonight for San Francisco. The meeting is tomorrow.”
“Excellent,” she said. Her slender, milky hands rubbed together. “I’ll alert Persephone and Tanith.”
I nodded, but she didn’t see it, lost in thought. “Are there any further instructions?”
She shook her head. “I’ll be checking in with you via your secure phone. I’ll remind you not to give the number out.”
No shit, I thought. Resentment tickled my gut, but I knew she only wanted to be sure the mission went off without complications. She couldn’t help herself.
“Yes, Grandmother,” I said. “I’ll be careful.”
“Now, have you considered how you’ll play the meeting with Clovis?”
“Yes, I feel it’s important to feign reluctance. If he thinks I’m too eager to join him he’ll be suspicious.”
She nodded. “I expect he might also try to use your birth to lure you onto his side. Use it to your advantage.”
Her mercurial attitude set my teeth on edge. One minute she treated my mixed blood like a shameful secret, and the next she wanted me to use it manipulate someone. I nodded anyway, hoping I could get to Clovis without having to share too many intimate details with him.
“You must remember that Clovis is half-demon. He can appear quite charming when he wants to be.”
“You’ve met him?”
“Yes, his father was a trusted adviser to the Dominae when we were still in Rome. Clovis showed a lot of promise despite his father’s unfortunate affair with the demon Akasha. However, his mixed blood lured him away from the Lilim early on. He’s been a thorn in our side ever since.”
“That certainly sheds some light on the matter.”
She didn’t acknowledge my sarcasm. Instead, she turned and seemed to dismiss me as she prepared the room for midnight prayers. I stood there for a moment, waiting for something. A good-bye. Anything.
“Grandmother,” I said finally. “What do you know about the Praescarium Lilitu?”
She swung around, her eyes intense. “Why do you bring up that nonsense?”
I shrugged. “Someone mentioned it in connection with the Caste of Nod.”
“Sabina, why are you wasting my time with questions about faery tales? The Praescarium Lilitu is a myth. There is no Caste.”
I nodded. “So the birthmark on my shoulder blade isn’t a symbol of the Caste?”
She went very still. “Whom have you been talking to?”
The anger in her voice gave me pause. “Just some guy. He said the symbol for the Caste is the eight-point star.”
“Did you tell this person about your birthmark?” Her voice was intense and I got the sense the answer to this question was important.
“No.”
“Good. What have I always told you?” she said, coming closer. “That birthmark is like a neon sign advertising your mixed blood to the world. You’d best keep it to yourself.”
I still didn’t understand how keeping the mark to myself was doing me any favors. After all, my mixed scents and hair were immediate signals to all the dark races that I was mixed-blood. But I could tell from her tone that Grandmother didn’t want to talk about it any more.
“Like I said, I was just curious. Sorry to waste your time.”
She nodded regally. “You should go.”
I turned to leave through the door hidden by the tapestry hanging behind the altar. It depicted the first mating of Lilith and Cain, which resulted in the birth of the vampire race. For the first time, I noticed the serpent curled in the tree behind the lovers. The erotic picture had been a fixture in my life since I could remember, but as I looked at it now I wondered why I’d never noticed that detail before.
Shaking off the strange feeling, I lifted the panel.
“Sabina.” Grandmother’s quiet voice stopped me. I turned with my eyebrows raised. “I don’t think I have to remind you of the critical nature of this mission. Do not fail me, child. It’s shameful enough to me that your birth prevented you from entering service to the Temple.”
I swallowed the argument that sprang to my lips, and the movement felt violent to my throat.
No sense in reminding her I’d not chosen this path. When I’d reached maturity, I was told that because of my mixed blood, I would not be allowed to become an acolyte at the Temple. Instead, the Dominae decided I would train for the only profession fit for a mixed-blood. So, I was sent away to train as an assassin, despite the fact half my blood was from one of the most noble vampire bloodlines. The job usually fell to lowborn vampires, who didn’t mind the outcast status the profession required. Eventually, I accepted my role as pariah, because I was damn good at my job and it made me useful to the Dominae. At times, though, I still resented not having a choice in the matter.