Vexed: A Tidal Kiss Novella (The Tidal Kiss Trilogy Book 5) Page 13

  “Then it would seem we’re both wrong in our assessments.” I relinquish my prior assumptions, running my fingers back through my damp hair and wrapping the towel around me tighter. At my awkward motion, Callie moves over to a pink pouf sat in the middle of the plush carpet, grabbing a black silk robe and throwing it to me.

  “Yes. I know I may seem like I have the other leaders’ respect, but I’m terrified they’ll see right through me. I don’t know what I’m doing either.” She admits the fear of inadequacy as I slip the robe over my shoulders, pulling my hair out of the collar and tying it around myself.

  I frown.

  “So, you’ve invited them to watch me put on some hideous monstrosity of a gown and stand on ceremony? What, you think that’ll convince them I’m really domesticated?” I ask her, and she smiles.

  “This is a private event. It’s not about the others. It’s about you and the Psirens. They’re your people, they need to see you as their leader. I planned this whole thing myself. It was my idea. So, before you think it’s some trick, it isn’t. You bear the responsibility of being Queen, you also deserve the same respect, and that starts with this ceremony. It’s partly my fault with the other rulers, I’ll admit. I haven’t been putting my fin down with them because I was worried they’d think I was bias. Then it occurred to me. They’re the ones who are biased. If it weren’t for you, we’d all be dead. It might be easy for them to forget that, but I know I haven’t.” She finishes her little speech, and against my better judgement, I cock my head, narrowing my eyes as I feel my temper recede to embers from my less than orthodox arrival.

  “You’re not wrong. They are biased. Not that I can totally blame them. I don’t even know if I can control the darkness within myself, let alone the others. I mean… I’m getting better at it, but I still have miles to go before I sleep,” I breathe, moving forward to the chair and taking a seat. Crossing my long pale legs in front of me, I stare at myself in the mirror.

  “It’s a complicated situation. But they don’t see it how I do. The Psirens may very well be our most powerful asset if handled correctly. Things may be calm right now, but there will always be another threat just over the horizon.” Callie looks sad and I wonder what it is she’s referring to, though I can’t bring myself to ask. Silence falls between us momentarily as the young, not so innocent, Queen runs her hands through my hair, looking over my shoulder and into the mirror with fondness. She’s not Starlet, but she’s still the closest thing I have to a sister, which I guess explains why she pisses me off the majority of the time. It’s true, nobody can push your buttons like family… unless, of course, they have tentacles and a cocky British accent.

  “I’m not wearing a freaking monstrosity by the way… and nothing pink,” I announce, giving in to the concept of the event itself.

  “Oh, trust me… I learned my lesson in the Arctic about trying to make you wear pink,” rolling her eyes, which sheen with unspoken amusement, she twists her mouth, taking in my reflection and pondering my face.

  “So, you have a dress?” I enquire, and she nods.

  “Yeah, I designed it myself.” The words fill me with dread as they ring out, high pitched and laced with enthusiasm. If it’s aquamarine in colour I’m going to strangle her with it.

  She stands behind me, continuing to run her fingers through the thick dark strands of my hair like I’m no more than a kitten.

  “Well… are you going to show me the stupid thing then?” I bark, and she jumps slightly, as if I’ve interrupted a thought bubble which has been forming too slowly in the desolate space between her ears.

  “Yeah, I have it on a mannequin here… give me a second.” Abandoning me in front of the mirror, she stalks the length of the room with square shoulders and head held high, opening a sliding door leading to a closet on the far wall. She pulls out the dress form, which is covered in a silken black sheet, setting it in the middle of the room before pulling it back. I take in the dress, cocking my head from left to right before looking at her.

  “Well, I suppose it’s not hideous.” I smile at her, impressed in spite of myself, and she gives me a wicked grin.

  “I thought you’d approve.”

  I do.

  What do you know? The girl did good.

  Considering I actively contemplate slathering Callie in tar to prevent her own fashion sense from frying my retinas on a daily basis, she really hit the nail on the head with my entire look for this event.

  I’m wearing a black, floor length wrap dress, simple, elegant in duchess satin, and yet flattering in an elongated mermaid silhouette. It’s got a spiked, bustier top, pushing up my breasts and slimming down my waist, with a slit up the front of the skirt, exposing as much bare leg as possible. My hair is insane… perfect for me, but insane. She’s backcombed it into a fauxhawk, which makes me appear feral and wild, with the long locks that usually hang past my ears braided tight against my skull. Slipping a hair clip, resembling silver coated seaweed, into the back of the up-do, which has been teased and gelled beyond what I had ever contemplated being able to sit still through, she takes me in, satisfaction evident in her features.

  “You look…” she begins, but I finish the sentence for her.

  “Badass?” I feel my mouth twist into a grin against my own volition as the black lipstick, which has been highlighted with matte azure sheen in the centre, spreads wide, exposing my white teeth beneath. My eyes are surrounded by black and accented with the same shimmering blue, and I let my pupils dilate dark, thick eyelashes fluttering, as I give her the full effect.

  “This dress, it’ll change when you enter the hall,” she reveals, and I give her a questioning glance.

  “It’s not going to make fireworks shoot out of my ass, is it?” I demand, paranoid at once, and she shakes her head.

  “Uh… no,” she relinquishes, passing me a pair of shoes. I sit down on the pouf behind me, the wildness of my hair tickling my bare spine. The puddle train of the gown pools around my ankles as I slip on the first sandal stiletto. They are Grecian in look, climbing my calves to the knee. Black in design, they boast a silver fish’s skeleton as the centre piece of the straps.

  “You really put a lot of thought into this.” I stare up at her as I slip on the second shoe and fasten it to my foot. She blushes, fidgeting on the spot.

  “I just feel like you deserve the same treatment as everyone else. If nobody else was going to make it happen, then I said to Orion that we would.” She seems to be embarrassed, and I don’t do emotional scenes unless that emotion is rage, so I cough a few times before changing the tone of the conversation.

  “Well, you made me look fabulous. Though you did have a great starting product, so I’ll deduct props for my natural pizazz,” I tease her, and she shrugs.

  “I knew you’d never come if we told you beforehand. I’m glad you like it. I wasn’t really wanting to force you down the hall towards Callista,” she gives a small giggle, pushing her hair back behind her ear yet again. It’s loose and curly, and her already applied makeup is toned down and natural. “I better get dressed.” She shuffles past me as I stand again, staring at myself, indulging vanity in the floor length mirror.

  “So Callista is doing the ceremony?” I ask her, and she nods.

  “She requested to perform it, and I didn’t see why not. She really likes you.” Callie shrugs as she pulls on a black floaty blouse and some, surprise, surprise, aquamarine sequined pants. They’d be fabulous in black, as would most of her clothes.

  “Did you ever see this happening? Me being a Queen?” I ask her, feeling suddenly raw as it occurs to me that I’m about to step into the shoes of someone I never thought I’d be.

  “Actually, now that you ask, it makes perfect sense to me that you would be,” Callie replies without pause, and I snort, rolling my eyes.

  “Bullshit.”

  “Not bullshit. Truth. I won’t lie. What’s the point? If you fail as a Queen, I’m the one who will suffer. I’m married to your brot
her, and I’d have to deal with the consequences if he lost you, not to mention what would happen to the Psirens. I mean, what would we all do without Vex’s undeniably crucial entertainment value?” she asks me, and I snort, feeling my heartrate pick up slightly at the mention of his name.

  “Yeah, I’ve had my fair share lately,” I remind her with a grimace. She shakes out her legs, righting the way the sequins fall upon her thighs as they shimmer in the light, too resonant of her tailfin.

  “How was it? The trip?” she asks me, and I open my mouth to respond, but she continues after a pause. “I saw Vex, he looked like he’d been beaten up. Bar room brawl?” she assumes, and I cuss internally.

  Damnit, why didn’t I think of that?! I came up with… mauled by a bear? Smooth, Azure.

  “Yeah, sure. Can we go now?” I ask, glossing over my reply as she puts on a single teardrop moonstone necklace before giving herself a final once over in the mirror. Her springy ringlets glow golden, a halo of goodness in contrast to the abrasive darkness of my own.

  Silent, she unlocks the door of the parlour and sets me free as I stare out onto the landing, travelling its breadth. Leaning over the dark balustrade, my head hangs, taking in the length of the staircase. My gaze is instantly pulled into the shadow where the double doors, the exit to the Lunar Sanctum, reside. I wonder if she expects me to bolt, to run, and then realise she’s probably put me in heels to prevent that from happening quite so easily.

  I guess this has always been inevitable, so I step forward, wearing shadow from head to toe, inside and out, always.

  I’m not making this into a big deal as I’m sure it had been when Callie and Orion had been crowned, not that I’d know. I was happily late to that event, and I certainly made an entrance.

  “Well, are you going to open the freaking doors then?” I bark at Orion, who looks exasperated as he stands in a black suit with a black shirt and tie on underneath. I’m definitely sensing a colour theme… though what exactly escapes me. Callie takes my hand in hers.

  “You nervous?” she asks, her face full of excitement for me, and I cock my head at her, my expression remaining serious.

  “No. Let’s do this shit and get it over with; my panties are chaffing,” I bite out. She nods at me, stifling a laugh and taking several steps forward. She and Orion open the double doors to the hall, revealing me to the room and the room to me.

  I expect to be blinded, but instead, I’m pleasantly surprised to be staring into shadow. The entire hall has been transformed from shimmering white and deep crimson in colour, with floors mapped through with gold filigree vines, to black and cavernous in its unending darkness. Ceiling to floor, the entire place is pitch black, until suddenly, as Callie claps her hand, the entire place erupts into the splendour of the deep. Bioluminescent décor illuminates the space within moments like a wicked and tempting milky way I’d like to drown in. The runner before me is lined on either side with azure fibre-optics which flicker to life, lighting my way down to the stage at the end.

  As I step through the doorway, feeling dark eyes turn to me, each body dressed in black suddenly comes alive with neon, glowing accents to keep them visible in their enormous shifting mass, which is otherwise cloaked in darkness.

  They scrutinise me, and as I hear an audible inhale, I look down at myself trying to seek the source of their fixation. The dark gown in which my body is wrapped has come alive at the shadow, peppered now with thousands of azure specks of light. Looking back over my shoulder, I see the puddle train flaring out behind me. It’s a galaxy trapped in a wave of duchess satin.

  Edged with the azure glow of the hundreds of stars left in its wake, it laps against the shores of my immense depth as I take a single step forward.

  Well that’s… unexpected.

  I turn back to look down the length of the runner leading to the stage and feel their eyes on me collectively, waiting for something. I wonder if they expect me to smile, to blush, to act bashful under the weight of their collective abyssal gazes, but I don’t. This is my damn coronation, and I’m going to own it like the Queen I’m about to be.

  I strut the length of the runner, legs protruding from the slit at the front of my dress as I proceed to the sound of primal drums toward the stage. The drapes are spotted with bioluminescent stars too, and as I get deeper into the black-lighting, I realise that the smell of bergamot and burning drift wood is coming from incense burners smoking in the corners of the hall.

  My eyes dilate fully, allowing me to take in details that would be lost on others, and I search for one particular face in a crowd, coming up empty, much to my relief. I take the stairs in my stride and come face to face with Callista, who smiles at me with that eerily serene expression that makes her look as though she’s lost in a dream. She’s wearing a long black robe that glitters, falling in asymmetry across her body, draped with casual perfection.

  “Please kneel,” Callista requests, and I shake my head.

  “I’d rather stand thanks. Let’s get on with it.” I’m bored already; not one for ceremony, formality or anything resembling either, I want it done and dusted as fast as possible.

  “Callie and Orion asked me to perform the short version of this ceremony… I cannot imagine why.” She looks at me with the unsettling alabaster of her pupils, her thick lips pulling into a half smirk, half disapproving smile as she turns from me, moving to pick up two wicked objects from the throne behind her. She holds one out to me, a sceptre made from whale bone carved with ancient looking runes and wrapped in black pearls. Next, she drops a heavy orb into my palm, a tennis-ball sized black pearl encased in a cage of black diamonds. It’s cold to touch and reflects my bioluminescent make-up back at me in a dull hue.

  “Repeat after me,” Callista exhales, her voice soothing in spite of the fact I can feel the scrutiny of hundreds at my spine.

  “I, Azure, Mother of Psirens,” she begins, and I snort. Is she joking? That’s what they came up with for my title? Is this some kind of cruel unintentional irony? I turn back to stare over my shoulder down the length of the aisle to Callie and Orion, who stand stoic, with slightly amused twinkles exuding from their crystalline irises out into the dark.

  Rolling my eyes at them, I turn, rushing my way through the words as if I’m no more than ordering a drink at a local bar.

  “I… Azure… Mother of Psirens…” I bite out and contemplate yawning, but then I wonder how my people would feel about that. Maybe they’d see the funny side, or maybe they’d all just up and leave. Either way, it could be a good thing for me personally, if not for the future of the Psiren race in general.

  Callista glares at me with a firm hard line for a mouth, imploring me to take this ridiculous spectacle seriously.

  “Solemnly vow to uphold the values and protection of the people of this world. To tame the darkness and to direct its unprecedented power on earth to the service of The Circle of Eight and my fellow council members. To place the needs of my people before those of myself and to understand that my life and death belong to the service and wellbeing of my God and his mission on earth.” The vows leave me feeling nauseous at the thought of pledging my subservience to any god. So, I cough.

  “How about… I solemnly vow to do my very best for the Psirens in my care, whether that be taming their inner darkness or allowing them to truly embrace it for the greater good of those around them?” I query her, not content with vowing something I’ll never uphold. I look back over my shoulder to Callie.

  “Good enough?” I call back down the length of the hall, and I watch as her hand comes up to cover her face in exasperation. Orion nods beside her, trying not to laugh as he gives me over-enthused thumbs up. I turn back to Callista. “Go on…” I gesture for her to hurry up, still clutching the orb and sceptre like spare parts of a machine I have no clue how to fix.

  “If you’d like to take the throne.” Callista steps aside, allowing me to examine the chair for the first time. Made from charred, black driftwood, it’s covered in cr
ustaceans and urchins which give it a jagged and completely intimidating outline even in the dimmest of light. I turn, sitting down upon the hard grain of the surface and crossing my legs casually as they protrude through the slit in my skirt, exposing my pale flesh to the crowd. I hear whispers from the Psirens as Callista moves to collect the crown from a small table beside us and narrow my eyes, looking out into the crowd and finding not respect but the lacklustre attention and mocking gazes of bloodthirsty teens.

  I stir, leaning forward and finding Celius in the crowd, turning to a blonde Psiren beside him and smirking up at me. It irks me, and as I watch the mass ripple with similar disobedience, I feel my Psiren rage returning full force.

  Callista places the crown on my head, a concoction of charred black wood, bones, black pearls and sea urchins intertwined with tiny veins of blue light. It’s heavy against my skull, painful even as the urchins dig into my flesh, but I barely feel it; I’m too busy seething upon my jagged throne.

  “I present to you, blessed Kindred of Poseidon, Queen Azure, Mother of Psirens. Please bow to receive your new ruler.” She gestures for me to stand. Sceptre and orb still in hand, I rise and survey the crowd beneath me. They don’t kneel or bow, or even so much as stir. They merely snigger like the adolescents they are. As I watch on, I place the sceptre on the floor, discreetly untying the straps of my sandals, though it doesn’t matter as hardly anyone is paying attention anyway. Picking up the sceptre yet again, I square myself, glowering.

  The weight of the responsibility I have to them kicks in, and as any good mother should, I realise it’s time they were taught right from wrong and how to respect their goddamn elders.

  I tighten my fingers around my sceptre, letting my eyes zoom in on their many faces as a full and wicked smile spreads across my face, leaving it gaping with the possibility of violence. I kick off my shoes beneath my skirt, ready once again to make a giant scene at a public event. I should seriously consider charging at this point.