Everyone had dispersed after that, and Layla and her friends had taken Adrian’s jet back to Paris. Celia and Charlie had opted to fly all the way home to Seattle after everything they had endured. They were on permanent guard now with three of Rikyava’s best, hired away from the Hotel by Adrian. But Luke and Arron had decided to remain one more day at the Paris Hotel to watch history go down.
And now, it was time.
A knock came at the door and Layla turned, already feeling Adrian standing on the other side. Moving to the door, she opened it and he stepped inside, kissing her sweetly. Pulling back though leaving one hand at her waist, Adrian stroked her neck, watching her with his incredible aqua eyes. Dressed in a classic black tux with a deliciously slim fit and black satin lapels, plus sapphire and black diamond cufflinks, he looked every inch the renegade billionaire – about to cause a storm.
“Are you ready?” Adrian’s energy was quiet tonight, flowing with gentle intensity as his magic curled around her.
“Yes.” Layla spoke, ready to face what was coming. As Adrian extended his arm, Layla took it, and he ushered them into the hall. A retinue of twenty Guards stood by her door, Adrian’s escort since he was still technically a fugitive. But they had received word from Heathren Merkami that the ten Crimson Circle members Lulu Duvall had named were all in custody, and the announcement of their sentencing would go out tonight.
Layla didn’t know how that would happen exactly, but Adrian assured her they wouldn’t need to leave the party to receive the message. As she took a deep breath, she watched Rikyava approach from Luke’s apartment, dressed in a stunning blood-red silk gown with Luke in a classic black tux on her arm. Arron was with them also, though his tux had a bit of flash in the royal plum lapels. The color reminded Layla of Rhennic’s eyes, and she took an inhalation, summoning herself back to the moment.
With a nod from Adrian, everyone continued down, surrounded by Guards. The Hotel was intensely quiet tonight, all activities suspended in the wake of Adrian’s summons. Restlessness moved through the Hotel, still packed after Yule, but with everyone simply mingling and drinking tonight at the copper hall-bars. Eyes followed the heavily-guarded group as they moved through the Hotel’s main floor. Those who recognized Adrian gave a solemn nod, and with curiosity, began tailing the group. At last, Adrian’s retinue gained the Diamond Ballroom where Layla’s debut had been at Yule. It felt like a lifetime ago as they gained the ornate entrance – Hotel Owners turning and all talk silencing as the billionaire Royal Desert Dragon renegade and his Bind moved into the hall.
Stepping aside with Luke and Arron, Rikyava went to a niche by the main doors with a good portion of the Guards – protecting Layla’s friends, though Luke was entirely capable of protecting himself now. But the Hotel Owners didn’t know that, and it was a good ruse to have a locus of power near the doors if Adrian needed it.
Layla could feel her golden Bind to Luke, simmering like a kettle about to boil as he gave her a subtle nod, ready. Leaving their Guards, Layla and Adrian proceeded into the Diamond Ballroom, still sparkling with Yule decorations. No one spoke as they made their way to the stage, some faces scowling as they tracked the renegade duo, others attentively curious. But no one made a blatant move, and as Layla and Adrian arrived at the stage where the Madame and Quindici DaPonti waited, the Master Vampire stepped forward.
Dressed in a stunning dark maroon tux with black satin lapels, Quindici handed Adrian a lapel mic, which Adrian clipped on. The Vampire’s eyes were dark, their onyx depths intensely sober as he gave Adrian a nod, then gestured to center stage. With Layla on his arm, Adrian took the middle of the stage as spotlights went up, catching Adrian and Layla in their hot flare though dim enough that they could still see the hall. As Owners moved forward with drinks in hand, scowling or curious, Adrian raised his voice with smooth power.
“Owners of the Red Letter Hotel, thank you for coming to this emergency meeting tonight.” He spoke calmly, his baritone voice resonant as it moved through the room. “You have been called here this evening by the Barone Quindici DaPonti, but in reality, it was I who summoned you. You all know my story; you all know I have been declared anathema among you. Yet many of you do not know the entire tale. I will not be the one illuminating it for you. Please, open your ears, and hear of the treachery behind our beloved organization.”
As if it had all been planned to the precise moment, Adrian suddenly stepped back, moving Layla back with him. As the spotlights died, an eerie series of piercing chimes sounded all around Layla, and deep inside her mind. She wanted to clutch her ears, she wanted to shudder away from the sound, but there was no escaping it. As if someone had invested the sound through the very air inside her head, it was like Dusk’s rumbles but piercing, clarion – a riveting sound like trumpets flaring through the world.
Every person in the hall came to intense attention, many of them shivering like Layla as they jerked, shocked to stillness. In that moment, a voice suddenly flooded the air like the voice of God come alive. It was a voice Layla knew, cutting and clear, and as Heathren Merkami began to speak via whatever magical mechanism had flooded the Paris Hotel, Layla watched the Owners.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Red Letter Hotel,” Heathren spoke in his clear, viciously angelic voice, “this is the Intercessoria. You are being informed as per the Annihilation Code seven-oh-one-point-oh, that eleven members of your pinnacle leadership have been arrested for crimes against the Twilight Realm and the Human world, and have been put to death. The list is as follows: Lulu Duvall of the Faunus of France. Remi Dufresne of the Molennics of Europe. Bintni Rabii of the Kali-Makti. Lawrence Koss of the European Fumaroles. Mikhail Korotnik of the Russian Ice Dragons. Dina Armann of the Crystal Dragons of the Czech Republic. Muni Barba of the Blue Tempests of the Caribbean. Roman Adario of the Sirens of the Mediterranean. Angela Kona of the Royal Tempests of Hawaii. Maya Benny of the Desert Dragons of Nevada. And Letitia Armani of the Dark Haven of Rome.”
All around, Layla watched faces of Hotel Owners open in horror and shock, as drinks and plates were set aside. A number of Owners were glancing to the doors now as Heathren’s announcement paused, as if wondering if they could make a quick escape before the Intercessoria’s message concluded.
“This is only an initial list of the accused,” Heathren Merkami’s disembodied voice continued, cold with righteous wrath. “We have over fifty additional names of Owners involved in illegal activities and crimes punishable by death according to Intercessoria laws. We have incriminating details and have already raided numerous illegal operations around the world, both in the Twilight and Human realms. Run, and we will find you. Disappear, and we will hunt you. Your days of disrespect for international law are finished. That is all.”
As the announcement ended with the same series of ear-piercing chimes, many things happened at once. A number of Owners tried to dash for the doors, and found themselves blocked by a veritable horde of Intercessoria enforcers, snaring them into white cubes moving with gilded sigils that they cast beneath the feet of those running. The Owners that had tried to flee were incarcerated as the cubes expanded fast, trapping them in a magical gel and immobilizing them. Others who had merely spooked were surrounded, Intercessoria spears with white-gold sigils thrust around them to keep them still.
As Layla and Adrian watched from the stage, Heathren and Insinio marched in through the ballroom doors and began making the rounds in their black battle-leathers with their seven-layer wings visible tonight, spread wide with a dark grey-opal hue like angels of death. Flicking their fingers or nodding at incriminated Hotel Owners, their Intercessoria enforcers rushed in, incarcerating Owners right and left.
It was a rout. There were a few magical blowups as certain Owners tried to fight, but the Intercessoria presence was efficient and overwhelming, and those who tried to do battle were quickly subdued. As Intercessoria began magicking the incarcerated from the ballroom via their golden cubes, off to be interrogated or put to death, Layla felt a dark tension inside her begin to ease. As the process finished, Heathren finally mounted the stage with Insinio beside him. Gazing at the less than thirty people left, Heathren flared his wings in a terrible spread, Insinio crossing his arms over his battle leathers and scowling in a dark angelic fury as he did the same.
Lifting his voice in a clarion archangel wrath, Heathren’s piercing silver-white gaze swept the nearly empty ballroom. “Choose your next actions carefully. Many of your names came up during interrogations as related to quasi-illegal activities, or illegal actions for which there was no immediate proof.” Glancing behind him, Heathren’s silver-white eyes fixed on Quindici, though the Master Vampire stared him down with a cool, grave-like ease before Heathren turned back to the hall. “Restructure your organization, and keep its activities clear of the law. Or I will return. That is all.”
With one last long look at Quindici, then a nod to Adrian and Layla, Heathren flicked his fingers at Insinio and they departed with the rest of the Intercessoria – sweeping from the hall as if they’d never been.
Layla felt a shudder pass through the ballroom as the Intercessoria departed. As enormous eyes stared back to Adrian, shocked at what had just happened, he stepped forward once more. “Friends, we have a responsibility to the Red Letter Hotel. From ancient times, this organization had been one of amnesty in its day-to-day principles, each Hotel a place where enemies could come and relax, and find solace in times of strife. At its core, our beloved organization concerns itself with peace and plenty, with re-shaping the way a person sees the world in a way that fosters community, goodwill, and an uplift of heart. The crimes many of our Owners were involved in were anathema to our Hotel’s heart, and it was for this reason that I aided in exposing their corruption. Though that corruption goes all the way to the pinnacle, to the very creature who founded our Hotel, it is not what our organization is on the day-to-day. I have a sincere wish for the Red Letter Hotel to survive this, and thrive in a way it never truly has before. For how can we tolerate corruption at our heart when our mission is so beautiful? I hope you agree, and that you will join me. I do not intend to give up on our beloved Hotel, and I hope you will not allow me to.”
It was well spoken. Layla saw a number of eyes shining at Adrian’s speech, heads nodding in accord. There were still a few angry faces but they were the minority, and as Layla gazed around, she realized Adrian had far more allies among this crowd than enemies now. Stepping quietly to Adrian’s side, Quindici surveyed the room, then raised his voice.
“Fellow Owners and members of the Hotel Board,” he spoke in a pleasant way, smooth and cool. “A motion has been put forward to absolve Adrian Rhakvir of hisPunizione Completa, and to re-instate him into both full Hotel Ownership and as Head of the Red Letter Hotel Paris. Please think for a moment on your decision, and we will put it to immediate vote.”
As Quindici stepped back, Layla saw movement in the hall. People frowned, they glanced at Adrian, they sipped drinks or spoke low words with a neighbor. As talk finally silenced, Quindici engaged the vote. The vote in favor of re-instating Adrian was nearly unanimous, with only four dissenters. In a quick moment, it was done. As Quindici stepped back, his onyx eyes glittering with pleasure, he turned to Adrian with a slow smile that showed his fangs.
Reaching out, he clasped Adrian’s hand. “Hotel Head. Welcome back.”
“Thank you, Quinn.” Adrian spoke quietly, and Layla felt his deep breath, as if a great weight had fallen from Adrian’s shoulders as a warm desert wind full of jasmine suddenly flowed all around him.
Turning back to the assembly, Adrian stepped forward and spoke one last time.
“Friends. I thank you for the opportunity to be a part of this Hotel once more. In the coming days and weeks, I intend to call a series of meetings to create a firm, egalitarian, and equal structure of leadership among us. Too long has our Hotel been ruled by a shadowy elite, most of which are now removed. This is the true meaning ofRisorgimento, my friends, the re-structuring of everything we are as we remove that which corrupted our heart. Which leaves the rest of us, to take the Hotel forward into the future. Come together with me; help me create this new chapter of our existence. And we shall have true peace and plenty, as was intended at the very beginning of the Red Letter Hotel’s formation. Thank you.”
With one last solemn survey of the crowd, Adrian let the power of his presence sweep the room. And then extended his arm to Layla, escorting her from the hall.
