“Do you care to explain yourself, Lilith?” he asks, tossing the paper toward her.
She glances down at it before passing it to the Council member to her right. That man reads it, is left in stunned disbelief, and then passes it along. So on and so on, until Asher gets his hands on it. Somehow it angers me that his grubby little fingers trace the story of my lineage. And his eyes stop on Lilith’s signature, just as Victor’s had.
“What. Is. This?” he demands, flinging the parchment to the center of the table, where it lies stranded.
With a calm, collected voice, Lilith finally speaks. “Have you never seen a Confirmation Decree, Byron Asher?”
“Of course I have! But not one for a family that was eradicated a millennia ago. Do you realize the damage you’ve done to your family by signing such lies as these!”
“You dare question the authority of my signature?” she asks, ice in her voice. She’s clearly used to dealing with men just like Asher. “In front of the Council, in front of all the families, you dare to question the honor of the Ferdinand family?”
“I question your honor, not your family’s—”
“I am the House of Ferdinand and have been so for five hundred years, longer than you’ve lived.”
Asher says nothing, perhaps realizing he can’t win this one alone.
So it is Lord Delacroix who speaks, his tone measured and controlled.
“Lilith, no one here would think to question your loyalty or honor, but we must also inquire as to why you have signed a Confirmation Decree for a family that also has a death warrant signed by all of us.”
“By our ancestors,” she corrects. “And I have to explain myself to no one. If anyone here wishes to challenge the legitimacy of this document, and of Dawn Montgomery’s claim as Old Family, then they must challenge the legitimacy of the entire House of Ferdinand. Here and now.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” another says. “Lilith, you may explain yourself in due time to all of us. But until such a time, and for the integrity of the Council, I must insist that Dawn Montgomery remain, as it were, a human, and unable to take seat at this Council.”
“No,” I say. “I demand the seat that was stolen from my ancestors.”
He looks at me, and his reasoned voice has given way to a cold stare. “Child, need I remind you that there is still a death warrant on all Montgomerys. That name, perhaps, may not be one whose weight you are ready to bear.”
“Oh, enough of this!” Asher says. “Have you all gone mad? Are we seriously entertaining the thought that this girl—who contains but a single drop of Montgomery blood—should be allowed a seat on the Council?”
“That’s exactly what we’re entertaining,” Lilith says. The room goes silent again, which seems its natural state. As time passes, Lilith looks for challengers, and when no one speaks, she does. “We’ve been very rude to our guests. Please, Dawn, Victor, Richard, and Faith, if you would be so kind as to join me in my study, we may discuss this further without constant interruption.”
She stands, and in her movements I can see the obvious grace of Old Family women. Faith has it, but Lilith’s is even more refined, as if each step were practiced a thousand times before letting it show in public.
She leads the way out of the chamber and back down the stairs, all four of us in tow. In the room where all the companions wait, I see an incredibly striking young man stand up as his mistress enters. Lilith simply waves him down and he obeys, knowing it isn’t time for him yet.
Her study is down a hall and up another staircase, and when she pulls back the door, I’m impressed by all the worldly objects crammed into a single space. Paintings and tiny sculptures and strange artifacts from across the globe line shelves and desks. At the far end is a great Gothic window that looks out onto the night, and I realize then just how high up we are.
“I knew you would come eventually,” she begins, turning toward us. “As soon as you stepped through that door, I knew. You look like a Montgomery; I could place you anywhere.”
“Lady Ferdinand,” I say, giving a little curtsy, “I thank you for your kind words in the council chamber.”
“Oh dear, there’s no need to curtsy for me. You are Old Family after all.”
“Is it true?” I ask.
“Yes. I’m sure you have so many questions, but first, let me tell you my role in this bizarre drama.”
We listen as Lilith tells us about the Montgomery family, words that I can hardly imagine I’m actually hearing, but they seem only to confirm everything I’ve always known was deep inside me. I clutch Victor’s hand and scoot up to the edge of the seat, not wanting to miss a single syllable she utters.
The Montgomery family could produce dhampirs, she tells us. Half human, half vampire. This ability, as well as these unusual creatures, was feared by all the families and a death warrant was signed, led by the Valentine house.
“My great-grandfather, Errol Ferdinand, refused to sign the death warrant,” she says. “And it was of such importance that until it was signed by everyone, excluding the Montgomerys of course, it could not be acted upon. So Errol was murdered by his own brother.”
“And there was no witness,” I say.
She smiles, strokes the necklace she wears, the Ferdinand family seal secured at the bottom. “I see you’ve been getting some history lessons. There’s a bit of a debate as to whether a witness was involved. I doubt it, but others in my family would disagree. Nonetheless, our clan was torn apart after that. Errol had not yet become ash when the death warrant was signed by the new Lord Ferdinand.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“Thank you, child.” Lilith walks over to a painting of a very handsome young man, whose features are much like her own: strong, confident, and at the same time chilly.
“Errol’s son, my grandfather, Gustav, hated what had happened. The death warrant issued for the Montgomery family represented to him all that was wrong with us: our fear of anything different. The other families’ obsession with blood purity was so great that they would eradicate an entire family. And for what? They placed such value on blood yet were willing to spill it so easily. Centuries passed, and Montgomerys were killed. Gustav eventually ascended the throne, killing the vampire who killed his father.”
Lilith traces her hand over a long, metal dagger just below the picture, and I wonder if it was with that very weapon that Gustav reclaimed the throne.
“After that, Gustav made it his life’s goal to find any remaining Montgomerys and protect them, just as his own father would have protected them had he been given the chance. It took him a century of looking, but he found him. The one Montgomery who had escaped. Gustav visited him in the loneliest cabin in the deepest woods, so far from all things. Around a small table a pact was made: The Montgomery line could continue. One son each generation, to be born to a human mother. In that way the blood would become diluted, but the name would always remain.”
“Why would he do that?” I ask. “Going against the death warrant would have been a crime. Right?”
“Yes, and punishable by death. Which is what happened to him one night. Killed by a Valentine who suspected the pact had been made. I’m afraid that’s where the rift between our two families began, Victor.” She nods toward him. “I hope we may close that chasm.”
Victor nods in return.
“Even two thousand years ago,” she continues, “the Ferdinands knew that one day there would be a war between humankind and vampires. Our differences are too great. But when they heard of the Montgomerys’ ability to conceive with humans, the Ferdinands saw their salvation. The Montgomerys could act as a bridge, bringing together both sides. In such a way, a war could be prevented. But when that death warrant was signed, my ancestors felt that we had in fact sealed our own deaths. We always thought that if we could save the Montgomerys, perhaps we could save ourselves.”