Sometime later, I stir. I wiggle a little as I am in a strange bed. No, not a strange bed. My bed. I can feel the silk of the sheets and I open my eyes. Huh? That’s weird. I turn to look at the person next to me and stare into the beautiful face of my sleeping sire.
“Too early,” he mumbles to me in Italian as he pulls me towards him. “Wait until they come for you.”
Come for me? Who is coming for me? I take in my surroundings and although I am in my bed, I am not in L.A. I am at Ponte in CK’s bedroom. Well, our bedroom, I suppose it is now. I look at the clock and it says 5:45 AM. How the hell did I get here and why am I with CK? I sit up, pulling the sheet up with me and notice two odd things. First, my rings. The blue diamond and Faerie Silver wedding ring are on my left hand. I don’t have a Faerie Silver ring on my thumb and secondly my arms and hands are covered with markings. Swirls connected to more swirls connecting hundreds of tiny, I squint at them, thorns? What the hell is this? Wherever I am, I must get back. Pronto. I close my eyes and concentrate. I wish myself back to the bed in Miami and open my eyes only to find I am still in Italy. Crap. I try again and again.
And then I try again and again.
I can’t get back. I am stuck. Fuck.
“CK,” I shake him. “Wake up.”
“Who is CK?” he asks me, opening his eyes. “And why are you speaking English?”
Last year, I could have understood why he would ask me that. Most of our conversations were conducted in Italian but as we spent more and more time together and then when Cole and I got married we mostly speak now in English, even when we are alone together, so I find his question odd. Well, actually, everything about this is odd. I think I have somehow come to the future again as, clearly, I am married to my sire. Blast. That is just a pain in the arse that I can now do this in my sleep.
“Aefre?” he asks me, sitting up now with a worried look on his face as I just stare at him. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t belong here.”
“What?” he says. “What do you mean you don’t belong here? This is our home.”
“No, it’s not mine. I am not supposed to be here.” I get up and pull on the robe that is draped over the end of the bed.
“Aefre. Where are you going?” he calls after me as I run from the room. Oh, this is weird, I think, as I slow down. A variety of different species stop speaking in the hallway and turn to stare at me as I walk past. Vampires, Shifters, Demons, Dragons, some I don’t even recognize. They all bow their heads, making space for me to walk. My whole demeanor feels different. I feel far more graceful and poised than I usually do as I make my way down the stairs silently. Future me has it good. I like this show of respect. About bloody time. I descend the stairs in a steady Queen-like manner, quite enjoying this for a moment and almost crash into Ramon, who is hurtling up the staircase like a bat out of hell. Ramon? Is he a Vampire now? I sniff but no, he is still human. I frown at him as he apologizes profusely for not being on time. On time for what? I push past him, something far beyond weird is going on around here. Am I in the future? I spot a newspaper folded neatly on the massive table in the Entrance Hall and cross quickly over to it. A newspaper a hundred years in the future? This doesn’t bode well. I pick it up carefully and see the date: February 11th, 2013.
Come again. That is indeed today’s date.
“Ma’am,” Marguerite rushes up behind me. “I am so sorry for not being on time.” She holds out a cup of coffee with a slight curtsey. What was she late for? I wonder.
“Marguerite,” I say, ignoring the coffee. “What is the date?” I ask, needing confirmation as I start to glean where I am.
“Ma’am?” she asks me.
“The date,” I snap at her.
“The date?” she repeats in English to me, “It is 11th February, Your Majesty.”
“The year?” I press. That’s what I need to know, silly woman.
“2013,” she says, peering curiously at me, before she averts her eyes.
Oh, crap. I have time travelled to a different universe, not a different time, only this one is not the same as the other one. Definitely not. This is…shit. This is what Corinne wondered about there being others.
“Aefre,” CK says as he sweeps majestically down the stairs in his dressing gown. Looking stunning, I might add, as he hasn’t tied the belt and is wearing only a pair of black pajama bottoms. He is followed by two…handmaidens? “Are you unwell, my love?” he asks me, still with the Italian.
“I am fine,” I say firmly in English and all eyes go to me. The two girls bow quickly and drop to their knees lifting my bare feet to place them in slippers. “CK, we need to talk,” I say.
“Who is this ‘CK’ you keep calling me?” he asks, gesturing expansively, as only the Italians can.
Okay, clearly this timeline me doesn’t call him CK either. “Constantine. We need to talk. Can you please tell me where I can find Cole and Devon?”
“Who?” he asks with a frown.
“Cole and Devon,” I say, rounding on him with my own frown and the gathering people step back, lowering their eyes. Oh, yeah, this is more like it. There’s the fear. Apparently having had my sire give me my Queen status a thousand years ago has worked nicely in my favor.
“I don’t know who you mean, my love,” he says and shakes his head. “Marguerite,” he snaps, “do we have anyone on the service called Cole or Devon?”
She shakes her head quickly, the growing look of panic on her face is matching my own growing panic. “Cole and Devon!” I yell at him, grabbing the front of his dressing gown. “Don’t fuck with me, Constantine. Where are they?”