42nd & Lex (18 page)

“I guess you’ll just have to find out later.
Smile, Abri.”

We take pictures of each other and spend
some time watching the landscape below. When I check my watch, it is close to lunchtime.
We have managed to spend a few hours here. 

“Do you want to go higher? I know how to get
to the top of the spire. It’s cold and windy and there’s the occasional bird
flying by, but totally worth seeing.” Lucan and I are sitting on the railing of
the turnstile. He is watching me as I scroll through our photographs, which he
does in fact show up in. I like the black and white ones I’ve taken of him when
he’s not looking the best. 

“Do we have to take an elevator?”

“Nope, stairs and ladders all the way to the
top of the 77
^th
floor. There’s even a service door up there that
opens to the outside, if you’re feeling adventurous.”

“Are you crazy? That’s just as nuts as you
insisting on standing outside of the apartment. What if someone saw us?” There is
no way in hell my ass is going to crawl up an eighty year old ladder to the top
of the spire. Lucan might be able to survive a seventy-seven story fall, but I
certainly can’t.

“Hmm, probably true. In light of our earlier
conversation, how about going with me to the Enclave? There are some people I
think you should meet.”

“As long as we can take the Evora,” I tease.

“Okay, but you’re driving.”

Since I was planning to go home to get ready
for my dinner with Sarah, I hadn’t packed anything decent to wear. The faded
jeans and New York Rangers sweatshirt I put on this morning are most likely not
appropriate attire to wear to the Enclave. Yesterday’s work outfit will have to
do and I set out to search for it in Lucan’s closet. Hanging up next to my work
clothes is a garment bag from Lola Bella Boutique, definitely not Lucan’s type
of place. Curious and a little bit excited that it is obviously meant for me, I
unzip the bag. Inside is a red knee-length sweater dress with a cowl neckline.

“I hope you like it. I knew you wouldn’t
want to go to the Enclave in jeans so I had this sent over. Don’t worry, it’s
not Versace,” Lucan calls from the kitchen. Damn, he can hear me rummaging
around in here!

“Very funny. Thank you, it’s beautiful,” I
yell back unnecessarily. Shucking my jeans and comfy sweatshirt, I pull the dress
on over my head. Maybe I will just wear this to dinner tonight too. Next to the
bag is a shoe box containing a pair of black satin ballet flats—so much better
than sky high heels. Confident I look worthy of the Enclave’s Council, I head
to the bathroom to reapply my makeup. Lucan follows me in to assess my new
outfit.

“Perfect,” he purrs and leans down for a
kiss. I tense up a bit in anticipation of the ampage that is sure to follow but
it is low and slow this time. We wrap our arms around each other and I relax my
body against his. A few thoughts about how crazy and fast this is begin to
creep up in my mind, but I quash them before Lucan hear. I hope.  

***

We pull up to the Enclave and the valet guy
appears as if out of nowhere to take the car. Relieved that it’s not the same one
as before, I unlock the door to allow him to help me out. We don’t touch as he
holds the door open and I’m glad to have missed being amped again. He nods and
moves around to the passenger side to open Lucan’s door.

Lucan takes my arm and leads me through the
giant iron door and its security system as the valet drives the Evora away. We
make it past the security camera and into the lobby quickly.  

Lucan cocks his head in acknowledgment of
the receptionist, a pretty, pale red head, who waves us on past her post. Adjacent
to the door that leads to the restaurant is a small hallway with a fancy
elevator. I groan. 

“It’s
only one floor,” Lucan advises. 

“I’m good, I have you.” There really isn’t
anything to be afraid of; the building can’t be more than five floors judging
by the outside. That guarantees a hydraulic pump elevator, not a car on a
cable. 

Lucan presses the call button and we wait
for the doors to open. When they do, an attendant steps forward to hold the
doors open for us. He bows slightly to Lucan and mutters something I can’t quite
hear. Lucan gives him a deep nod in return and ushers me inside the elevator. Once
we are all in the car, the doors shut again. 

“Chambers, Lord?” the young man asks in
heavily accented English.

“Please, Anton,” Lucan replies.

The elevator begins to descend rapidly rather
than going up as I had anticipated. We go down, down, down. There is no display
inside the elevator and the buttons have symbols that look like hieroglyphs rather
than numbers. A soft chime indicates each level as we pass it. One floor my
ass, Lucan.

The doors open to our destination and Lucan
places his hand on the small of my back to guide me out into the long corridor.
The lobby and restaurant are modern in their décor, but this basement is
positively medieval. The walls and floor are made of large, dark stone blocks. The
walls are rough but the floor is polished to a smooth, high shine. Heavy iron
sconces hang at regular intervals along each side of the corridor. There are no
burning torches, just energy friendly halogen bulbs, which strike me as very
out of place. Then again, going green is probably a good idea if you’re a
vampire fraught with roaming the earth for eternity. Maybe Al Gore is a vampire,
I muse. Lucan stifles a laugh at my thought.

“This is the Chambers of the Enclave
Council,” Lucan says with a wry smile as we approach a set of doors. “This is
our courthouse, so to say. The Council is made up of three of the oldest
vampires in the region. They enforce our laws and preside over any grievance
issues among the members.”

“Interesting.” It is really all I can think
to say. There is an uneasiness in the air that I can’t shake. Why do I feel
like an animal being led to slaughter? “Why do you want me to meet this Council?”

“Now that I have confirmation that a
Halfling was created, I am duty bound to inform the Council of this. They need
to be made aware of Mark and his association with Virgil Hicks. Your, uh,
meeting him and your connection to him and Sarah are things the Council needs
to hear about as well.” Lucan pauses and looks past me down the corridor as if
he’s expecting someone to interrupt us. “There is another reason, unrelated to
the Halfling, that I need you to meet the Council…” His voice trails off at the
end like it does when is uncertain of my reaction. Whenever he does it, it’s
usually something vampire related.    

“What?” I huff. We are standing in a little
alcove outside of two heavy wooden doors with brass knockers that look like
sunbursts. “And don’t tell me you can’t tell me. I’m really not fond of this über
secretive stuff. If I’m going to be involved with you and your world, I think I
should get to know all the gory details.” I immediately regret my use of the
word ‘gory.’

“I knew you were going say that. I promise I’ll
tell you after we’re done. I just need you to trust me for now.” Lucan shifts
uneasily from foot to foot. “And I know I say that a lot, but rest assured I
don’t take those requests lightly.”

“Trust has its limits. This is not about
trust, Lucan. It’s about being kept in the dark on something I have no basis
for understanding. You can appreciate that right?”

He exhales loudly and fists his hair before flopping
back against the rough wall. “You’re right. I continue to ask too much of you,
Abri. For that I am sorry.”

“It’s okay, so long as we understand each
other. Now, let’s get going. This hallway smells like fear and it’s creeping me
out.”

An expression I can’t quite decipher flashes
across Lucan’s face. Before I can ask anything he recovers and ushers me
forward again towards the wooden doors. The doors swing noiselessly on their
hinges as we walk through. The Chamber itself looks something like the
courtrooms I am used to, only there are three seats behind the bench instead of
one. On the wall behind the three standard issue office chairs is a large seal
with the Enclave crest in the middle flanked by pair of the halogen bulb
sconces. The anachronistic elements of this place are amusing. 

The massive wooden bench sports designs best
described as demonic compared to the typical blind Lady Justice motif. They are
in the style of Egyptian wall drawings, only these scenes are of vampires being
tortured and killed not servants offering grain to the gods. Overall, it’s rather
over dramatic for a place functioning as a courthouse. I am beginning to think
vampire justice is very different from human justice. It makes a cold chill run
down my spine. 

Just as it subsides, three figures appear in
a little doorway to the right of the bench, two male and one female. The
Council. I wonder if I should bow or something. Lucan takes my hand and halts
our progression towards the bench. His thoughts invade my brain, making me
gasp. Am I ever going to get used to this reverse telepathy thing? 

“Keep your eyes down. Let me speak for
you unless they ask otherwise. Relax, it’s really no big deal,”
he thinks
at me. 

“
No big deal? In my world not looking
someone in the eye and having another, especially a man, speak for you is a very
big deal
.” He squeezes my hand in what I hope is an apology. “
They can’t
hear my thoughts too, can they?
”

“No, love. I suffer alone,”
he thinks
back with a laugh. This time I squeeze his hand, and it is most certainly not
in apology.

I won’t look at them directly, but I refuse
to stare at my shoes for the next however long either. The first to enter is a
man in his forties, or at least that is what he would look to be if he was
human. The fact that he could be centuries older, millennia even, unnerves me. He
is tall with caramel colored skin and wire rimmed glasses. My grandmother would
say he had an “honest face,” someone you trusted based on looks alone. His full
lips twitch into a smile and he nods at Lucan and me as he sits down in the
seat farthest from the entrance.   

The woman enters next. She is younger
looking than man, but it is hard to say by how much. Her blond hair cascades
down her back in dozens of loose ringlets and her dark, dramatic makeup
contrasts strangely with her pale skin. She smiles a sly little smile at Lucan
and winks one of her emerald green eyes before perching herself on the second
chair. 

The last to enter is the other male figure. He
is shorter than the other two by at least a foot and he appears to be very,
very old. Until now, all of the vampires I have seen have been young and virile
but this man is far from it. His skin is so pale it’s almost translucent and
his eyes are a dull grey color. He moves very slowly to towards the final
available chair and hesitates a second or two before attempting to sit as if he
may not make it. None of the Council members are dressed in the black robes I
associate with judges, but wear typical civilian clothing. If you passed them
on the street, you wouldn’t give them a second notice.

The older man raises his hand to beckon us
forward. Lucan leads me several steps towards the bench and stops. I try to
focus my line of sight somewhere between the Council and the disgusting images
carved into their bench. The younger man speaks first.

“Good afternoon, Mr. O’Reilly. What business
have you before us?” His voice is warm and even.

Lucan lets go of my hand. “I have
information regarding the suspected Halfling, Reveré.” Lucan bows his head and
clasps his hands behind his back. I surmise Reveré to be a term of respect like
Your Honor. He continues, “The Halfling we have suspected entered my apartment
last evening and frightened this woman.”

A rumble of disgust, or is it disbelief,
murmurs across the bench and the Council members give each other a few sideways
glances. Immediately, I am sure it’s in response to Lucan’s mention of me and
not the Halfling.

  “I do not know who his Maker is, but he is
most definitely a Halfling. I was able to smell him when I entered the main
lobby but he had already made his way to my apartment.”

The woman opens her mouth to speak, but the
old man beats her to it. 

“Child, you were frightened, yes?” He is
addressing me and I snap my head up to look him in the face. 

“No, not really. Why should I be afraid of a
Halfling? I pitied him, actually,” I say, without thinking. Lucan cringes
beside me. I’ve cross a line, I can tell. My response, however, has thrown the
Council into a raucous round of laughter. 

“She’s a feisty one, Lucan,” the older man
says, not at all accusingly. “How wonderful.” 

I hadn’t meant it to be funny, but it was
the truth. I hadn’t been so much afraid of what Mark could do to me, as I was
that someone was able to enter the apartment without my forewarning. Or at
least that’s what I’ve told myself since he left. 

“What’s your name, cheré?” the woman asks. I
figure she’d spent some time in New Orleans by her accent. Maybe she is one of
the ones Lucan had been talking about.

“Abri Cole, ma’am.” I give up looking at my
feet since they don’t seem to take issue with me speaking to them directly. 

“Ah! Very unusual name, Abri. Do you like
it?” She is leaning forward in her chair looking at me over the bench. She
raises a much-manicured eyebrow at me as if to accentuate the question. I can
tell she is as fascinated by me as I am by her.

“Yes. Well, now I do, but I didn’t as much
as a child. I begged my mom to let me change it to something more common.” What
a strange question. And for some reason I feel myself compelled to answer her
with casual familiarity rather than the distanced respect one should give an
authority figure. What is it about this place that’s making me so defiant? “But
my mother felt it suited me. She says it means ‘warmed by the sun’ in Latin.” I
start to tell her that it is French for shelter or refuge, but I figure any
Cajun worth her salt would know that. The two men on the bench look at each
other and share a knowing look.