Roger knew the names. He and Faustino had tangled a few times when Seamus had first moved their group to New York. Those entanglements had included a very loud breakup in a tavern for gay men. The last Roger had heard of Abhijit, he had moved to Los Angeles. That had been in 1983, and Roger hadn’t tried to track him down.
“I think Abhijit’s probably one of the few men over two hundred that I haven’t slept with,” Roger said.
A classical song drifted from the strings of a violin into the hall. Chattering party guests were already in the hallway and in rooms. Mortal pets followed their vampire masters. Donors that worked for the Chateau wore white collars with Candide’s crest tag. They were dressed in black vests and shorts and carried trays with drinks between rooms.
A vanilla-and-floral scent enhanced the earthiness that came from vampires congregating while covering any hint of mustiness. Here and there were vases of beautiful bouquets of red and gold. Little tables had black chits laid out on them with piles of red chits at the back.
Roger picked up one of the red to closer inspect it. The chits were meant to be handed off to donors so that they could prove a recent feeding and earn their pay. They were sitting out like party favors for anyone to grab. Red meant a longer drink with some possibilities for play; black meant an intent to be rough on a donor, possibly to death.
These chits had a crest on either side of them. One was a dagger with a snake wrapped around the hilt and the blade, not quite forming an ouroboros. The other was a raven with its wings spread wide and carrying a rose.
Two new fledglings with crests were serious business. Anton and Seamus hadn’t presented anyone in society like this. Roger had been given his during a quiet night in Paris, while Anton had never graced Dmitri with one.
“Apparently, Faustino is a big shot these nights. Candide told me that he brought multiple gifts to shower upon the new fledglings,” Ezra said, carrying on their conversation. He caught Roger looking at the chit. “Ah, yes. Anton insisted on having those made. A bit darling, but a waste of plastic in the long run, in my opinion. Will you be feeding tonight?”
“I should like to.” Roger pocketed the red chit. “Do you know if they plan to abide by tradition?”
“That was what I heard,” Ezra said, and only from knowing him did Roger spot the worry in his expression.
The custom was that the new fledgling show off and drink from their prey in front of a crowd at midnight. After that, everyone else was allowed to feed.Did Seamus prepare Zack for that? Or is he hoping that he’ll freeze up and make a fool of himself?“I wonder if I’ll be able to snag a hello before we descend into revelry.”
Ezra caught Roger’s eye, and the quick nod meant he’d gathered Roger’s true meaning. “I’m sure we’ll be able to arrange that. For now, though, let me introduce you to a few of my friends. We have so many vampires from out of town that I’m surprised any of my fellow coven mates made the list!”
With the grace and charm of enduring noble manners, Ezra linked his arm with Roger’s and began to take him around the party as if he were an old friend and everyone they spoke to were complete strangers to him. Roger had endured worse, and he faked politeness while keeping his eyes peeled for Zack’s or Takashi’s arrival.
Takashi straightened his sleeves after stepping out of the limo behind Seamus’s pet collection. The three mortals shivered in the cold. Their jackets were thin, gauzy material unfitting for an Illinois winter night. But they made no complaint as they hurried along the path to the front doors behind Seamus, Zack, Anton, and Katie.
Anton wanted Katie’s debut—and therefore Zack’s—to be sophisticated in the eyes of their visitors. That was one reason they’d selected the Chateau to host the celebration rather than Seamus’s mansion or the club Devil’s Cove. Such affairs weresupposed to be classy, and though the mansion was a display of wealth, letting vampires know that Seamus’s home lacked the basic protection of a threshold was a massive security flaw. Some elder vampires would consider it a sign that he was a poor master if the mortals he kept never felt safe enough to call their house a home.
Chateau de Vampire had all the elegance of a palace and the exclusive air of a private club. As requested, the donor house was closed to the public that night. Red lights illuminated the outside of the building and the three statues along the walk. The center one, which the sidewalk curved around on both sides, was of Seamus. Between the light and the shadows, his long fangs seemed to drip with blood. The last few times Takashi had been here, he’d thought that the statue had a handsome charm, but he only saw the malice in the stone’s form from the way he grinned to the rough hold he had on the nude figure in his arms.
Another of the statues depicted Anton in a billowy shirt. The artist had pulled off the manic quality of his grin, yet Takashi couldn’t help feeling that it was a mask even for the marble Anton.
The last of the statues was of Candide in a centuries-old fashion. The full skirts of her dress nearly hid the kneeling figure at her feet, a nod to how she was known to always have a few mortals at hand.
Two other statues had once decorated the walk, but even their pedestals were removed. They’d been of Roger and Dmitri. Apparently, their fall from grace was complete. Seamus was attempting to erase their presence altogether.
Several black-clad and brown-collared security guards were checking guests in at the door. When they spotted Seamus, they bowed and motioned for him to go ahead.
“Master!” Candide said, bubbling with her French accent. Her blonde hair was in a beautiful braid, and she wore a darkpurple dress that had the lightest of sparkle in the weave. She held her hands out for Seamus to take them, and then she kissed him on either cheek as he drew close. “I do hope you and your son will be satisfied with the party tonight! Anton and Takashi have worked so very hard to ensure I nailed every detail!” She let go of Seamus and held one hand out to Anton.
Anton swept in and kissed her cheeks. “You look ravishing.”
“Thank you.” Candide turned her attention to Katie. “Aren’t you darling?”
For the party, Katie had donned a carmine satin dress that ended just above her knee. It was modest without overplaying her youth. She had a gold necklace of a raven with its wings spread and holding a rose. Anton had given it to her, had chosen it as her crest but hadn’t told her yet.
As she chatted with Candide and twirled to show off her dress and high heels, Takashi felt a distance that an elephant couldn’t fill. His tether to her was still there. He could sense her delight in the moment and her growing hunger, but he was hardly standing there inside his own skin. His gaze wandered and landed on Zack.
Zack looked dashing in his black suit. His hair was an artful mess that Takashi wished he’d taken the time to tame a little. In the Chateau’s light, he was a perfect porcelain, the pale pink undertones of his skin having gone almost white after his transformation.
“Zackery, wonderful to see you again, mon cher,” Candide said as she greeted him. Zack managed a smile for her, even when she insisted that he twirl for her, too.
After that, her attention started to drift toward Takashi.
“I believe people are waiting on us, darling,” Seamus said with a grin that was too wide.
“Of course they are. And we are clogging the entryway! Come, come. I have an arm for each of you magnificent newchildren of the night! Now, I know Zackery was here as a mortal, but did you ever have the chance, Kathleen?” Candide turned to begin leading the way deeper into the Chateau. She held her arms out for Zack and Katie to join her, and they did.
