Nancy A Collins-Vamps 02 (20 page)

“What are you doing?” Carmen gasped.

“I’m not going to cry,” Lilith said between gritted teeth as she stepped away from the sink. “I
refuse
to ruin my makeup. Not in front of
her
.” The burns she had inflicted on herself were already starting to fade, along with the pain that accompanied them. She had come dangerously close to losing control in front of the others, but plunging her hands into scalding water had driven the tears from her eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Carmen frowned.

“It’s about Jules.”

“What about him?” Carmen asked uneasily, wondering if rumors had finally reached Lilith’s ears.

“He’s Cally’s escort!” Lilith spat.

Carmen’s relief that her affair with Jules had not been discovered was engulfed by jealousy of her own, which she quickly masked as outrage on Lilith’s behalf.

“That
bitch
! How
dare
she! I’m going to give her a piece of my mind!” As she stormed out of the powder room and back into the salon, her hands clenched into angry fists, Carmen remembered the look on Jules’s face the night he’d told her he didn’t want to be her escort.

That son of a bitch!
she thought.
He turns
me
down
212

but doesn’t have any problem saying yes to some New Blood
slut!

Cally was sitting alone on a love seat when Carmen Duivel stomped across the room, her emerald-green eyes ablaze with anger.

“That was a
really
shitty thing to do to Lilith!” Carmen said hotly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cally replied.

“Don’t hand me that!” Carmen nearly shouted. “You know
exactly
what I mean. You’re trying to steal Jules away from Lilith!”

“Are you nuts?” Cally eyed Carmen like she would a street crazy ranting on the subway platform. “He’s merely acting as my escort, nothing else. I asked him and he said yes. Besides, I’m not the one
fucking
him,” she said pointedly.

Carmen’s jealous anger was abruptly replaced by a tight knot in her belly. “What do you mean by that?”

“What do you
think
I mean?” Cally snapped. “I have nothing to be ashamed of.
I’m
not the one claiming to be Lilith’s friend.”

Carmen glanced about uneasily. Every eye and ear in the room was now trained on her. Suddenly using Lilith as an excuse to confront Cally about Jules didn’t seem like such a good idea.

Unable to come up with a catty remark that wouldn’t 213

get her in even deeper trouble, Carmen simply walked off. As she did, she saw Lilith standing in the doorway of the salon, watching her with cold, hard eyes.

“Lilith, it’s not what it sounds like,” Carmen assured her.

Lilith said nothing as she stepped around the redhead. As Carmen moved to follow her, Lilith turned around and fixed her with a hard glare.

“No.”

“But—”

“I
said
no.” Lilith stalked across the room to join Lula and Armida. Carmen couldn’t process the speed with which she had just fallen from grace. On what was supposed to be her official introduction to Old Blood society, Carmen’s social life had just been cut off, as cleanly and completely as a diseased limb severed by a surgeon.

As Carmen wandered about, forlornly trying to find somewhere to sit that was safely out of Lilith’s range, the salon doors flew open and Madame Grume reentered the room in front of yet another serving cart, this one containing a cut-crystal punch bowl and thirteen matching cups. The dark red liquid in the bowl sloshed gently back and forth as the servant wheeled the cart into the middle of the room.

“You’re in for a real treat! Count Orlock has 214

graciously selected something
very
special from his private cellars for you young ladies to enjoy,” Madame Grume announced. “It’s HH phenotype, the fabled Bombay blood—the rarest in the world!” The undead servant ladled the blood into the dainty crystal cups carefully so as not to waste a single drop of the precious vintage. Then he handed them out one by one to the assembled girls.

“Praise to the Founders,” Madame Grume intoned.

“To the Founders,” the girls said in unison, raising their drinks in a toast.

Cally sipped the blood, which was far more impres-sive than anything she’d ever tasted in her life. So
this
was how the mega-rich Old Bloods lived.

She was so busy enjoying her drink, she hadn’t noticed that Lilith was standing near her.

“Watch your elbow!” Lilith snapped, jostling Cally’s arm.

There was a collective gasp as the drink spilled from the punch cup onto the skirt of Cally’s dress. The thick blood left an oil slick–style stain on the dark fabric.

“My dress!” Cally wailed.

“It’s not
my
fault you got in my way!” The sight of Lilith’s sneering face made Cally so mad her whole body seemed to vibrate. “You did that on purpose!”

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing!” Lilith 215

sniffed indignantly. “If you hadn’t been such a klutz, you wouldn’t have spilled anything to begin with!”

“Take that back!”

“Oh, yeah? Who’s gonna make me?”

To Cally’s surprise, Bella and Bette Maledetto stepped forward, flanking her on either side.

“Take it back, Lilith,” Bella said sternly.

“Yeah, leave her alone,” Bette agreed.

Lilith automatically glanced over her shoulder, only to remember she could no longer count on Carmen to back her up. She looked over to Armida and Lula, who were watching from the sidelines. Before Lilith could make eye contact, both girls quickly looked away.

“What’s the matter, Lilith?” Melinda asked, moving to join her friends. “Cat got your tongue?” Lilith glared and opened her mouth, only to suddenly change her mind and walk away without another word. The four friends exchanged glances with one another as they shared a single sigh of relief.

“I can’t believe you guys were willing to do that after the way I’ve treated you,” Cally said in amazement.

“You and Melinda are the only girls at Bathory who have ever treated us decently,” Bette said. “You’re the only real friends we’ve ever had.”

“My sister’s right.” Bella nodded. “Nothing can change the fondness we have for you, Cally.” Cally shook her head, humbled by the show of loyalty 216

the twins had displayed on her behalf. How could she have allowed Victor Todd, who was little more than a stranger, to manipulate her into severing ties with her best friends? As much as she wanted to be a part of her father’s world, Cally decided there were limits to how far she would go to please him.

“I don’t care if it gets me in trouble or not, I’m going to hang out with whoever I want to from now on,” Cally said. “And if my parents don’t like it—well, they’ll just have to get used to it.”

Besides, Cally told herself, what difference should it make to her father if she spent the evening hanging out with her friends one last time? Since she was being forced to change her entire world on short notice, it seemed only fair to her that she get to enjoy the last night of her old life in the company of her friends.

“I’m so proud of you two,” Cally said. “You both look fantastic!”

“I
love
your dress!” Bette said enthusiastically.

“Me too!” Bella agreed, and then grimaced. “Sorry about it being ruined.”

“We’ll just see about that,” Melinda said, steering Cally over to a nearby chair. “I have something that should fix things,” she explained, taking a small green bottle and a handkerchief from her clutch purse. “It’s a special formula handed down from my mother’s side of the family, designed to eradicate all traces of a stain 217

without harming the fabric. I never go anywhere without it in case of ‘accidents.’” She removed the stopper from the bottle and wet the hanky, then proceeded to daub at the blood on Cally’s skirt. “See? It’s coming out perfectly. . . .”

“Thanks, Melly,” Cally said. “I really appreciate this.”

“It’s the least I can do under the circumstances.” Melinda shrugged. “I never really thanked you for what you did the other night.”

“What? You mean the pier? Forget about it.”

“Forget that I owe you a blood debt? Not likely. I owe you my life.” She leaned in and whispered: “And so does my friend. His name’s Tommy Bang. No jokes, please. His father runs the Ghost Tigers down in Chinatown.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Melly,” Cally said.

“You would have done the same if our positions had been reversed.”

“I hope I get a chance to find out—not that I’m counting on you being ambushed by Van Helsings.”

“At least not anytime soon.” Cally laughed.

“Okay, young ladies, your time is almost at hand!” Madame Grume announced. “I need you to line up in order in the hallway. Single file! And don’t forget your bouquets! Follow me.” The debutantes gathered their things and went out into the hallway, while Madame 218

Grume checked her PDA. “Who’s first? Let me see . . .

Armida Aitken?”

“Here,” Armida said, raising her hand.

“And your escort is . . . ?”

“Erik Geist.”

“Armida, I need you to go stand in front of that door at the end of the hall. When it opens and you hear your name called, you are to step over the threshold.

On the other side is the top of the staircase. Your father will be there waiting for you. You will give him your right hand while holding your bouquet with your left, then you will be led down the stairs. At the foot of the staircase your escort, young Mr. Geist, will be waiting for you.

“He will then take you by the right hand and squire you around the ballroom. You will curtsy at the four points and then make your fifth and final curtsy to the host and hostess of the Grand Ball. Once you have finished, you and Mr. Geist will retire to the platform on the far side of the ballroom, where you will sit on one of the chairs while your escort stands behind you.

You will then wait for the rest of the young ladies to make their debuts. The presentation of the thirteenth and final debutante will signal the first waltz of the Grand Ball.

“Once the first waltz begins, you will leave your bouquet on your chair and move onto the dance floor 219

with your escort. The whole presentation process, from start to finish, shouldn’t take any more than five minutes. Do you understand that, dear?”

Armida nodded. “I wait until the door opens and I hear my name called.”

Madame Grume heaved a sigh. “Close enough, dear.”

As she awaited her turn, Cally was relieved to find herself grouped with Melinda and the twins instead of sand-wiched between strangers or, even more likely, enemies.

After the Maledetto sisters stepped through the doorway to be escorted down the staircase by their father, Melinda leaned in close and said in a low voice: “I’m to tell you that you now have friends in Chinatown.”

“It’s always good to have friends.”

“
Especially
if you keep insisting on antagonizing Lilith.” Melinda shook her head in disbelief. “Jules as an escort? Girl, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking Lilith can kiss my ass.” As the two friends collapsed into giggles, Cally realized that this would be a moment she would remember for the rest of her life, however long that life might be.

As much as she enjoyed being with Melinda and the twins, the fun she was having with them was equally mixed with sadness.

Cally felt her secrets—
all
of them—scrambling up 220

her throat, clamoring against one another in their hurry to leap from her lips. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands, hoping the pain would drive away the compulsion to come clean, but it was no good.

“Melly, there’s something important I have to tell you. . . .”

“What is it?”

Before Cally could say anything more, Madame Grume tapped Melinda on the shoulder. “Miss Mauvais!

You’re next!”

Melinda glanced up at Cally anxiously. “How do I look?”

“Absolutely beautiful, Melly,” Cally said.

Melinda stepped toward the door, holding her bouquet close to her midriff with both hands. She suddenly frowned and looked back at Cally. “What was it you needed to tell me?”

“Thanks for being my friend, that’s all.” Cally smiled.

Before Melinda could reply, the door swung open and a voice on the other side boomed out: “Anton Mauvais of Manhattan presents to you his daughter: Melinda.”

Cally heaved a tiny sigh of relief as Melinda stepped through the door. Although she knew she had just narrowly avoided disaster, part of her was sad that she hadn’t had time to tell the truth.

221

It seemed no matter how close she got to others, she always had to keep those she cared for at arm’s length.

And no matter what kind of spin her father put on it, being unable to tell your friend good-bye really, really sucked.

222

“ You’re the Monture girl, aren’t you?” Madame Grume asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Cally replied.

“Is there something wrong with your hand, dear?”

“My hand?” Cally looked down and saw that, without realizing it, she had been rubbing her left palm against the skirt of her gown. Her hand felt as if it had fallen asleep and was just starting to wake up. “It’s nothing,” she said quickly. “Just nerves, that’s all.”

“Let me assure you, you have nothing to be nervous about, child.” Madame Grume smiled as she patted her on the shoulder. “You look positively ravishing!” Suddenly the door swung open and a masculine voice intoned: “Baron Karl Metzger of Berlin and Paris presents to you his daughter: Cally Monture.” Clutching her bouquet as if it were a lifeline in a 223

choppy sea, Cally stepped through the doorway to find herself standing at the top of a gracefully curved thirty-foot-tall marble staircase wrapped in lengths of decorative ivy.

Below her was a massive Gothic ballroom with a vaulted ceiling of carved limestone and arched windows that looked out onto the vast grounds of the estate. Renaissance tapestries were hung in between the huge metal chandeliers. The floor of the ballroom was crowded by the same partygoers she had seen in the Grand Hall earlier, their faces turned upward, staring at her curiously. She could see people talking to one another, some behind their hands, others quite openly.