The Emperor sobered; we were no longer visible to mortal eyes.
No bouncers or hotel staff were in the main conference hall to see the guise of the child drop and the thing that ruled the predators take its place.
“Jester, would you like to begin the evening’s entertainment?”
It was not a question.
I nodded vigorously and produced some juggling balls from my pockets. Around me, about sixty vampires began to shed their masks. The meeting had called an impressive number of the undead, considering that we only reached two-hundred during a good century.
I noticed Caine talking to the Princess, the final female Dominus on our very short list. Officially, there were only three female Dominus: the Torturer, Scarlet and the Princess. I’m not on the list… officially.
It probably says something about us that none of the women like each other. The Scarlet was the second oldest female Dominus- she and the Princess had been at each other’s throats for most of the other’s undeath.
The Princess had been made some time in the mid-sixties‒something which reflected in her looks. She usually attended these events in a pastel dress that came directly from a Disney character’s wardrobe. While she was the picture of feminine delicacy, she could break heads with her perfectly manicured hands. Men hovered around her eagerly and would wait on her hand-and-foot if only she would be their Princess. Even Caine was not immune to her batting eyelashes and proper, fine movements. He was married.
I felt sorry for her, more than I did for any of the other women I knew who suffered from vampirism.
She had been a liberated woman; she had been allowed to vote, had burned her bras and had demanded equal pay, equal rights, and all those cute things.
Then she fell in love with a vampire, and he with her.
As it usually happened in those cases, he turned her‒seemingly accidentally‒and she was then introduced to the rest of the vampire society, a society that did not believe in woman’s right to vote or hold lands.
Oh, the Princess was powerful‒impressively so for a fledging not even chewing on her first century‒and she would be a serious threat to the Emperor in another hundred years, but she was still limited by her humanity. She did not think like a vampire yet, and that hobbled her. She had too many mortal allies, too many weak points that a man with the Emperor’s savagery would destroy. I don’t think any of us expected her to survive past fifty.
When you receive immortality, you give up everything that you used to value in morality. Immortality is the selfish present. It is a willingness to see everyone you knew and loved die, a willingness to watch as the world wilts, and remain apart from it.
We live in this world, but are no longer ‘of’ the land, as I was told once. Immortality comes with its own darkness; a writhing shadow that seethes in your soul. Your own personal fiend, sent from the primal parts hidden in men’s souls. The part that makes you a fighter, a survivor.
The Princess had been “campaigning” the vampires around her to accept change and come further into the modern century. She had killed her sire when he had claimed her as his object‒her right to do so as Dominus, but impressive for a child nonetheless. I suspect she hadn’t even meant to.
She had no master, but plenty of hopeful suitors. She drifted from city to city, at the Emperor’s allowance, but no one would be supporting her campaign beyond the usual platitudes to upstart younglings. She had to prove she had the balls to do what she wanted to achieve.
As the saying went, down with the Emperor.
The poor thing simply had not realized this unfortunate reality yet. The King was her target this evening. They were moving somewhere through the crowd, and I lost him behind elbows and sleeves.
The Emperor yawned dainty fangs at the juggling balls, starting to drift away from me.
I tossed the first ball into the air, then as fast as vampiric speed allowed, leapt and kicked the ball. It sailed across the room, smacking the back of someone’s head, dislodging a hairpin and exploding against the wall in beans.
I had the Emperor’s attention again.
His eyes were wide as I threw all nine balls in the air, bent forward onto my hands and began to juggle with my feet. Not impossible, but not practical with nine balls, even at my speed.
I kicked another ball away and someone yelled in irritation.
The Emperor began to chuckle, but I was far from done.
With a flare of my power, I ignited the next ball. The crowd drew back around me, eyes widening as that primal fiend reared inside the gathered vampires. All vampires are afraid of fire, healthy, given we burn like paper. A small fire, even from a cigarette lighter, can kill a vampire if it is not doused quickly. That’s how a number of Elders died in the Boston fires.
The ability to control or manipulate flame was rare and usually quite lethal. It was not one of my gifts.
I kicked the ball again and someone screamed. There were more screams, and then suddenly a groan as the poor fool who had been hit realized that the flame was nothing more than an illusion.
The Emperor, laughed right out now, gesturing to my antics.
“Show me something new, Jester!” He clapped.
I righted myself; balls falling around me in a haphazard halo of sand-sacks as I struck my thinking pose. Like there was anything to really think about when it came to entertaining the Emperor.
I’d had centuries to learn and master new routines; vampiric agility and illusions were my gifts and the tools of trade.
I scanned the crowd while I ‘pondered’ and my eyes settled on the Black.
He was a younger vampire, one of the youngest to make Dominus at barely two-hundred. I had picked on him before, and tonight I would do so again.
Rupert had short cropped black hair, and was wearing a French silk lined suit and a blue shirt, probably to discourage any of the younglings from assuming he was morbid. He was handsome and permitted being the brunt of the Emperor’s mirth. I snapped my fingers, tossed my hat in the air and vanished into the crowd of vampires, leaving behind nothing but a Jester’s hat.
Murmurs surrounded me as I positioned myself against the Black’s back, leaning against him just-so.
There were perhaps two hundred and fifty vampires in the whole world, roughly thirty of which were women, and four of which were Dominus, me included. There were about fifty Dominus, although the last decade had seen a few younglings finally coming into their power. The conference room had about seventy vampires inside, including a few children who were hoping to join those from another city.
Mostly, we knew each other‒if not on sight or by name, then by reputation and rumour. The crowd was not thick. We’d divided into the sort of small social circles that all social beasts do.
There were new arrivals greeting each other, a few of the first-timers chatting amongst themselves. It might have been a social for teens, if not for the lack of food and DJ.
The Black let out a sigh when he turned his head slightly and the soft jingle of bells answered his curiosity. He had two young Dominus with him, Chauncey the Wise and Morton the Bear. They were good humoured sorts, although not very adventurous.
“Anyone ever tell you how short you are, Jester?” He whispered. His lips barely moved, he was a subtle sort.
Like any of my previous victims, Rupert knew the game; until someone else realized where I was, he should not give away my position.
“We can’t all have nice, big manly shoulders,” I murmured back. He deserved a response since I was oft picking on him. I think he liked the attention.
We were talking lowly enough that our words were not even words, as much as air passing through lips. There was enough noise from people greeting old friends or giving passing insult to old enemies.
Despite popular fiction, very few vampires have super hearing.
“I bet you’d love my shoulders,” I could hear the grin in his voice.
“I bet you’d love my ass.”
“I do love your ass,” He proved it by pinching said derriere.
Despite our bantering, there still were no stirrings from the crowd. The Emperor had begun socializing and mixing. He would find me in his own time and these gatherings were important.
“You flatter me, Black.”
“I’m not the only one who’d love to get you alone in a dark room, I hear,” The Black ran a hand down my leg and I swallowed, suppressing a shiver of delight.
“Rupert, you’ve heard about that boy that the Musician turned a few months ago?”
“He must have a secret, to be able to turn so many of his flock. But does he share it?” Morton grunted. He’d had about a dozen failed turnings.
Rupert was excellent at flirting with me, but it was always an effort not to squirm when he got a little physical. His flirting would stop the second he realized I was a girl, and, while it was sad that my only romance was with a gay vampire, I was not quite willing to give it up.
We had traded kisses and small touches; he had even almost gotten me up against a wall once, before Caine had winged in and saved me from that embarrassment. Woodstock.
I believe the Black would have been the one embarrassed. I had no issue about going to bed with him, even if he was young, but I did not think would take it well that I lacked the proper equipment and had not informed him. To him I was the cute, silly eternal boy with a wicked sense of humour. I, in turn, wished he was not gay, and did not live in Germany. As an American vampire, it was a commute.
Our romance was doomed to pining and angst.
“Oh?” I was always interesting in rumours. Especially about myself.
“The Spider mentioned he wanted to bring some company to Capita ‒some entertaining company,” Rupert elaborated.
“Oh, yes, I saw Broderick about a year ago and he mentioned that the Spider was on the lookout for a second.”
Rupert turned, trying to look at me, but I was too close to his back. I turned with him, mimicking his crossed arms as if I could see through him. Still, no one noticed or found me, so the game continued.
I was not invisible, simply unnoticeable. It was not a power per se, more of a gimmick that any good Fool learns. Sometimes not being seen is important. Body language and unassertive posture go far further than flashy magic tricks.
“The Spider? I thought he was a recluse. He doesn’t let anyone set foot in that city. Didn’t he kill someone over it?” I looked around the crowd but didn’t see the long blonde hair of the spider’s anywhere. Maybe he had gotten anxious and found a corner to sit in. Caine was not around, but Caine was probably already in the council chambers. He could be such a sourpuss.
“The Goblin. They say only his fangs and lower jaw were left. He turned a neonate about twenty years ago‒the Spider, not the Goblin‒Dominus from the get-go, and a woman no less.”
That was news, “A woman?”
I had not heard anything about this, and it was big news! Of all the attempts to turn a mortal into a vampire, the chance of success was estimated to be barely ten-percent. This meant that most ended up dead, and many vampires simply did not try any more. It was a difficult process, and picking someone for immortality was a hard choice.
We do not turn people who cannot adjust properly‒ mentally unstable or physically impaired, either‒the act of giving a one-armed man all eternity to live would be too cruel; but, of those few worthy candidates you might find‒the ones that you could tell would make good immortals‒only a tiny percentage would survive the turning. The agony and destruction of the human soul, the church had said, was too much for a good Christian to bare. Though, despite my low-birth, I’d born it well enough.
It meant that the vampire population was small; we would never be a majority. You could travel much of the world and never meet a creature of the night.
Someone turned at my voice and jumped, startled by the clown who had seemingly just appeared.
The Black laughed as I stepped away from his back to bow deeply to the gentleman I had surprised. Nigel of Longarm. Reaching up, I grabbed Rupert’s muscular shoulders and used them as my spring board to leap into the air, making myself more visible to the crowd. Rupert remained still as I did.
“Yes, a woman, but no title yet‒not here, either. I suppose she’s too young, but you know how many problems the Spider has to deal with in his domain; he has all those strange creatures. It would be a change of patron for you in any case,” He said that as if I had always been with King.
I supposed, if only for the Black, two-hundred years seemed like a long time.
“Jester!” The Emperor’s voice cut through the crowd and he crossed his arms.
I mimicked him, balancing upside down, head-to-head on the Black. I even puffed out my cheeks.
“This is still all old routine. I’ve seen it all before. Haven’t you come up with anything new?”
I grinned, and held up a finger, the action appearing to the crowd like I was having an upside-down idea. Slowly sliding down from my position on the Black, I pulled my small flute from my right sleeve before inhaling deeply.
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