She carefully looked my name up on the list and nodded, “Cody, please take Mr. False to the third floor conference room.”
The bellhop all but bounced as he took the lead to the lifts. To be honest, I could have hit the number myself, but he climbed in with me, still respectfully quiet and calm. I was getting flashbacks to the twenties when bellhops had been so much more common. It was one of the perks of a hotel like this- a level of personal care that you didn’t get in a normal place. They probably had to deal with all sorts of ridiculous personalities. Mine included, I supposed.
He saw the look I cast his way and bowed his head respectfully, good body-language. It was a waste in such a job, I thought.
The lift opened into a wide ballroom.
Well, it was not quite a ballroom, but I had no other words for it.
The ceiling was lit up with honest-to-God candle-chandeliers, and there were a dozen tables neatly lining the walls, all filled with women of mixed heritages mingling and sitting. There was a stage with a full Buyo going on, although it was not getting the attention it should have. Traditionally, the audience should have shut the hell up and sat still for the whole thing, but hey— modern audiences were like that.
I felt sympathy for the dancers almost instantly. No one understood the traditional art forms any more.
The Spider was with a few of the other vampires he had taken on; the underlings were dressed in leather and vinyl. I felt myself growing warm as I found my eyes immediately on Dante’s ass in his own leather pants. A crime against women everywhere—tight, hiding very little and hugging a lot. He had let all that white-blonde hair fall loose around his shoulders, his shirt was mesh and covered about as much as it revealed. I felt my fangs harden when I saw the silver piercing in his right nipple.
I exhaled and tore my eyes away from his too-hot body as a female vampire approached me.
Ah, his baby Dominus.
My defences shot into place.
“You must be Avery,” She held out a hand.
She was pretty, and I instantly disliked her for that. With a petite frame, and breasts that were bigger than mine—not that it was hard- I could barely call my chest an A-cup. She had been dressed up in a pleasant gothic affair.
She matched the rest of the vampires in her apparel, but her skin was still vaguely pink—not pale like mine—and her cheeks showed a flush. Her heels were almost six-inches and she barely measured to my shoulders. Her hair was short, and a coppery blonde that I suspected was a very good dye-job. She had a puffy, black mock-Victorian dress on. It stopped above her knees, and the gloves covering her hands made her look vulnerable.
She was, in short, everything a man would want in a woman.
“Diana, I presume. Rumours of your beauty fail to call any justice to your person. I shall have the rumour mongers shot for such inadequacies, surely the stars themselves weep at such a delightful angel swept on the sands of this harsh city,” I took her hand and bent to kiss the ridge.
She grinned, flashing fangs, “Dante says you’re the Jester.”
“Indeed, although I would never play with your heart, my dove,” I kept her hand and nestled it in the crook of my arm.
She blushed, covering her mouth.
Great, she was going to be eaten alive by the rest of the Dominus; no wonder he had not brought her to the council.
“I don’t have a proper title yet because I’m too young to go to the council meeting, but I can control fire. Dante says it’s pretty rare.”
I nodded, “Indeed, but so are desert blooms, yet here we are. You must permit me a dance at the next available opportunity.”
We had reached our group of clichéd creatures of the night and I released Diana’s hand before the Spider could tell me to keep my hands to myself.
“Milord. Am I in acceptable attire?”
The Spider looked me up and down, “You know, Jester, this is the first time I have seen you without stage makeup on. You are quite beautiful.”
Heat raced through me and I forced my heartbeat to stay steady. It was just the expected level of compliment; nothing to get excited about. I inclined my head, “I had been hoping for dashing or handsome, but I shall take what I am dealt.”
His mouth ghosted a smile and he shook his head dismissing the comment, “When the last of the guests arrive, the show will begin. You may very well find yourself rivalled in power, Jester.”
I doubted it.
From what James had told me, the fairies glamour was everything it was said to be; make dirt into cakes, sewerage into wine, blood into flowers and bells into music. If that was the extent of their glamour, my phantasms were much more powerful.
But I was curious—deathly curious—to see these creatures I had only heard of in books and folklore. I supposed they had to feel the same about us. I could see an echo of curiosity in other faces, just like mine.
We mingled with a few of the people already in the room, but most were just entertainment, or locals that had some mix-up in the paranormal business.
James arrived shortly after me and I gave him a delightfully friendly smile. I could see he was one of Dante’s favourites from the territorial look I got from the Elder at my greeting of his donor. A good vampire did not acknowledge another’s donors.
“James, a pleasure to meet in the flesh,” I shook his hand warmly.
“You too, Mr False,” He dropped my hand quickly enough and passed Dante a phone. “Mr Randall, I recharged your phone as you requested. Can I do anything else this evening?”
“Thank you, James. Go home and get some sleep,” Dante said.
The guy needed it too. His eyes had black circles under them.
Surprisingly, the were-critters seemed extremely normal. I suppose when you are mortal, you do not tend to adopt the old ways or thoughts like vampires. I didn’t smell or sense anything strange about them- a werewolf could have walked past me on the street and I probably wouldn’t know him from another person.
The first party to arrive after me were the Kami. I felt them enter the room like a stiff wind brushing against my skin, not cold or uncomfortable, but a surge of energy that seemed to make Diana stand up straight.
They were normal looking men and women, though dressed expensively. All of them—there were six, four women and two men—were Japanese. My surprise was that their representative was a woman. She did all the introductions, her English as flawless as her skin. She had a perfect bun in her hair, long, clean nails, and a tasteful, cross-shoulder cut cocktail dress that managed to suggest a figure, but emphasize professionalism.
I liked her—Michiko Kitsune—almost instantly.
“So nice to finally meet more of Dante’s own. I had begun to think that he was the only vampire in the world!” She shook my hand like she knew what she was doing.
I was not used to seeing women handle introductions; it was unprecedented in vampire society. I gave her a pleasant smile, no fangs, “We do not like to advertise ourselves.” She gave my outfit a look and I laughed, “I am different. I advertise whatever I am performing. And, tonight, I am performing to every expectation.”
I slipped into Japanese, noticing the approving look in her eyes. It was not much effort for me, as much important art and a lot of performers had come from Japan in the last twenty years. I had also spent a lot of time in the country, travelling as a circus there. I was told my accent was unusual, but at least I did not butcher the language like the Americans did.
She waved at her retinue to go mingle while she stayed with me, “And Dante promises that you are unlike anything I have ever seen.”
Dante was saying a lot about me.
I smiled and moved out of the middle of the room, walking casually, “I think that is perhaps too great a boast, Miss Kitsune.”
“Your interests are in theatre and performance?”
I nodded.
“And what do you think of the dance on the stage at the moment?”
I turned to the dancers, taking a moment before facing her again, “The Odori is an art that many Western patrons do not seem to appreciate, but these performers are of high stock. The girl in the blue kimono is going to be your next lead, if you let her; her posture is perfect, and she has innate timing. The green peony girl is also good, but she has a bruised ankle and it is causing her a great deal of pain, she must learn to school her expression better. As for the drummer, I confess, he lets your troupe down. His cadence is uneven and he spends too much time trying to read the messages on his phone than paying attention to his task.”
She laughed again, “I like you, Mr. False.”
“Avery, please.”
“Avery, then. You have a quality to you.”
“It is all deception, Miss Kitsune.”
She had an excellent laugh, and she seemed almost electric as we spoke. I half expected her to pull some strange power show, but she remained normal. If not for the thrill down my spine, I would not have guessed she was anything strange. Naturally I’d heard rumours about Kami, did she turn into a demon fox? Did she blast electricity from nine tails? I’d no idea.
“Hopefully we can enjoy fruitful talks, then. I must make my introductions to the rabble; please, have a good night.”
I bowed my head as she drifted off to talk to other arrivals.
Another crowd of people had arrived now and I could not see the Spider in my immediate vicinity. What I could see was a foot under one of the buffet tables. I grinned deviously at the thought of scaring some drunken idiot quickly moved to the edge of the tablecloth. Only when I came closer did I catch a smell that worried me: blood, and a lot of it.
I had already fed, but my fangs sharpened in reflex. That inner demon knew gore when I smelled it. By the time I smelled the blood, it was too late; I had pulled the tablecloth up. I’d moved faster than I could stop myself.
I froze, staring at the body on the ground. My thoughts slowed as they had before; my mind began to quiet from all the usual humdrum of activity and I began to take such a calm mental listing of what I was seeing. He…it had been eviscerated. It was also not human.
So there I was, holding the tablecloth, staring at the dead body under the champagne table as blood leaked everywhere.
That was when someone behind me screamed and attention of the most hideous kind reared its ugly head again.
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