Nancy A Collins-Vamps 02 (21 page)

“I didn’t realize he had a daughter. . . .”

“I hear she’s his child by a concubine. . . .”

“What a lovely gown. . . .”

As she stared down at the cream of Old Blood society, Cally felt her knees begin to tremble and the odd tingling in her hand grew stronger, seeming to travel up her arm. She looked to her right and saw her faux father, Baron Metzger, standing on the step below her, holding out his hand.

“There’s no need to be nervous, my dear,” he said with a comforting smile.

Cally gratefully gave the older man her right hand while maintaining her hold on Jules’s bouquet with her left. As the baron led her down the stairs, she scanned the ballroom, searching for her real father. Her smile 224

faltered when she realized he was nowhere to be seen.

Jules was waiting at the foot of the stairs. He looked dashing in his Armani tuxedo and he eagerly stepped forward to take her hand.

“Take good care of her, young man,” Baron Metzger said with a wink as he passed Cally over to her escort.

“Don’t worry, sir,” Jules replied. “I will.” As Cally was escorted onto the open dance floor to begin her formal introduction to the gathered socialites, the chamber quartet hidden away in the orchestra alcove began to play Mozart.

“Are you scared?” Jules asked in a stage whisper as Cally curtsied to the western point, symbolic of the setting sun.

“No, I’m not scared,” Cally replied under her breath.

“I’m petrified.”

“Don’t be.” Jules led her to the eastern point, representing the rising moon. “You’re doing great.”

“You really think so?” Cally asked nervously. She curtsied to the southern point, which signified the dying daylight.

“Just look at them,” Jules urged her as he brought her to the northern point, which represented the rising darkness.

Cally glanced up at the faces of the partygoers that ringed the dance floor. While some scowled at her in disapproval, many others were watching her with an avid interest that bordered on hunger.

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“You see?” Jules smiled. “You’ve got them in the palm of your hand.”

It was time for Cally to make her fifth and final curtsy, this time to her host and his wife. Jules led her toward the huge fireplace at the far end of the room.

Seated before the hearthside in high-backed thrones with armrests adorned with ivory and bone plaques were the count and countess.

“In the name of the Founders,” Count Orlock said as Cally curtsied before him, “I welcome you as one of the Blood, daughter of Metzger.”

“Thank you, Your Eminence,” Cally replied.

Now Jules directed her toward the raised dais on the far side of the room where her fellow debutantes sat facing the dance floor, their escorts standing behind them. Cally caught a glimpse of her father, dressed in white tie and tails, standing to one side of the staircase.

He was waiting his turn to climb the steps to present Lilith. Standing next to him was a chic-looking woman dressed in a lilac crepe gown. Her blond hair was piled atop her head in a sophisticated updo, and she had the same chilly blue eyes as Lilith.

As Cally took her place on the dais with the other debutantes, she was greeted by Melinda and the twins, who were seated on matching Queen Anne chairs.

“You looked fabulous out there!”

“Thank you, Bella,” Cally said.

Standing behind them were their escorts for the 226

evening. Cally did not recognize the young men stationed behind Bella and Bette, but she definitely knew Melinda’s escort.

“Good to see you again, Cally,” Lucky Maledetto said, flashing her a roguish smile.

“It’s nice to see you, too,” she replied, blushing ever so slightly.

“
Excuse me
, Faustus,” Jules said stiffly as he stepped past Lucky.

Eyebrow cocked in amusement, Lucky watched Jules draw back Cally’s chair. “Hello, Jules. I haven’t seen you since Ruthven’s.”

“Yes, well, you know how it is,” Jules replied, avoiding Lucky’s gaze. “School keeps me busy.”

“Of course it does,” Lucky said dryly.

Cally settled into her seat, holding her bouquet in her lap. Scanning the audience, she spotted Victor Todd glowering at her from across the room, clearly displeased by her open display of friendliness toward the Maledetto family. Cally’s heart flip-flopped and she quickly looked away.

Over the course of the last hour Lilith had waited impatiently as the other girls walked out the door one by one—that is, except for the Maledetto sisters, who had stepped out in tandem, flanking their father on either side as he walked them down the staircase. She had passed the time by sullenly licking the wounds dealt to 227

her ego earlier that evening.

This was supposed to be her big night, her shining moment as the sole focus of attention at the Grand Ball, but now she discovered her father, Jules, and her supposed “best friend” had all been secretly conspiring behind her back to ruin it.

She could tell herself that it wasn’t really Jules’s fault. Since Cally asked him to be her escort,
she
was to blame. Of course, Jules could have turned her down—

but he was weak, as all men are weak; it didn’t matter if they were vampire or human. She had tolerated his occasional dalliances with the girls within their social circle. But this time he’d gone too far, even for her. She would make him pay for his callous disregard for her feelings.

She wondered if Cally genuinely believed the old baron to be her father. Lilith knew it was a lie, but did Cally? What was Victor playing at with Metzger?

And then there was the matter of Carmen. Disloyal, slutty Carmen. Compared to what her father and Jules had done, her betrayal was almost worth overlooking.

Almost.

As she thought about how those supposedly clos-est to her had turned against her, Lilith’s anger was replaced by a cold, calculating hatred and a desire to inflict pain and suffering on all those who had failed her. In any case, her hate kept her from succumbing to the terrible emptiness that threatened to engulf her.

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She was so preoccupied with plotting the downfall of her friends and family, she almost didn’t hear her name being announced. She stepped through the door and looked out across the huge room. Every eye was focused on her. She was the center of attention of over three hundred of the most influential, powerful, and privileged members of Old Blood society.

And yet . . . it was nothing compared to what she had experienced in front of the camera. One taste of pure, uncut, unqualified attention, and nothing else would do.

She found herself thinking of Kristof. No doubt he would have given his right arm to shoot a spectacle of this magnitude.

Lilith forced a smile onto her face as she took her father’s hand. As Victor Todd and his daughter descended the staircase, which symbolized her transi-tion from child to young woman, a round of applause arose from the onlookers below.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, passing your love child off as Metzger’s,” Lilith said through her unwavering smile. “But it’s not going to do any good.”

“I assure you, I had no hand in her being here,” Victor replied out of the corner of his mouth. “Metzger is blackmailing me. He knows about Cally, and he has threatened to send pictures of ‘Lili’ to the Synod.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Pay him a good deal of money, of course. He has 229

also demanded the right to marry into our bloodline. I have surrendered your sister to him in exchange for his silence.”

“You did
what
?” she hissed, staring at her father in disbelief.

“Don’t look at me, look at your audience, my dear,” Victor admonished her. “Cally knows nothing of any of this—as far as she is concerned, Metzger is her father.

Besides, would you have me offer you up instead?” As they reached the foot of the stairs, he whispered in her ear: “You might not believe me after all we’ve been through lately, but you
are
my daughter, Lilith. There is nothing I would not do to protect you, princess.” Lilith glanced out of the corner of her eye at Victor, but it was impossible to decide if he was telling the truth. As she wondered whether or not to believe her father, Xander Orlock, dressed in a Versace tuxedo, his blond hair pomaded back into a pronounced widow’s peak, stepped forward and took her hand.

Xander looked up at her with deep-set blue-gray eyes, and the upper lip of his lavishly wide, sensual mouth pulled back into a smile.

“You’ve never looked lovelier than you do right now, Lilith,” he said.

Despite herself, Lilith smiled.

Without a backward glance at her father, Lilith followed her escort onto the dance floor to make her formal curtsies to the guests. As they passed the raised 230

platform where the other girls and their escorts were, she gave Jules a withering look. To her surprise, she saw genuine jealousy on his face—something she had never seen before.

As she observed the black looks being exchanged between the cousins, it suddenly occurred to Lilith that her means of retaliating against Jules for betraying her with her hated demi-sister was literally at her fingertips.

It was all she could do to keep from grinning ear from ear. Who would ever have dreamed a spod like Exo could be so extremely useful?

While Xander squired her from west to east, south to north, Lilith made a point of smiling and pretending to enjoy his company. She watched in amusement as Xander’s chest visibly puffed up with pride as he escorted the most beautiful girl in New York City around the room.

As Xander brought Lilith for her final curtsy before his parents, Lilith saw a flicker of approval in the count’s eyes. However, the countess’s brow was furrowed and she had a worried look on her face.

Suddenly there came the toll of the bell, ringing out the strokes of midnight. Count Orlock stood up from his throne and motioned to the orchestra.

“Rauhnacht is here at last, my friends!” Count Orlock proclaimed. “It is time for the Grand Ball to begin! And this year, the honor of the opening dance falls to none other than my own son and heir, Xander 231

Orlock, and his lovely companion, Miss Lilith Todd!” As the orchestra struck up Strauss’s “Vienna Blood,” the young couple took to the middle of the ballroom accompanied by eager applause from the onlookers.

Lilith had expected Xander to be an awkward partner on the dance floor, but to her surprise he promptly snapped into position, taking her right hand in his left and extending her arm out to the side while his right hand slid confidently into place along the left side of her body. She could feel his hand pressing firmly against the slope of her back, just below the lower edge of her shoulder blade. She instinctively tried to put a little space between their bodies but found herself held fast.

She tossed her head back to berate him for daring to be so bold with her, only to find herself captured by his blue-gray eyes. Suddenly she no longer minded the feel of his abnormally long, yet powerful fingers against her flesh.

“Shall we dance?” Xander said with a smile.

As the future Count Orlock twirled her counter-clockwise about the room, skillfully guiding her with only the slightest pressure against her waist, all her anger and schemes of vengeance fell away. Lilith found herself smiling, not because it was expected of her, but because she was actually enjoying herself.

* * *

The debutantes seated on the dais rose from their chairs and, in the company of their escorts, filed onto the dance floor, joining Xander and Lilith in their waltz.

Within seconds the ballroom was filled with beautiful young girls and dashing young men in evening clothes, whirling about the dance floor like the patterns made inside a kaleidoscope.

As Cally twirled in Jules’s arms, she found herself wishing she was dancing with Peter. Although the attention from Jules and Lucky was flattering—even a little bit exciting—there was no denying where her heart lay. It was a shame she could only admit this to herself now that there was no hope of her ever seeing him again.

As she and Jules wove in and around the other couples on the dance floor, it seemed to Cally as if the world was whirling around them at breakneck speed. The faces of the onlookers began to blur one into another. Then, as they twirled past one of the arched windows that looked out onto the gardens, Cally thought she glimpsed a familiar face pressed against the pane, looking in at her. With a start she recognized it as Peter’s.

Her heart leaped as she craned her head about, trying to catch another glance, uncertain whether what she’d seen was real or not. But Jules was moving too fast for her to get a clear look and there were too many 233

partygoers in the way. By the time they danced back around to the same side of the room, the window was empty.

Although she knew it had to have been an optical illusion, Cally’s heart still sank in disappointment.

Of course Peter’s not here,
she silently chided herself.

What would he be doing here? Even if he knew where I
was, it would be suicide for him to follow me.

She told herself she needed to put Peter out of her mind. Thinking about him was making her eyes play tricks on her. Besides, there was no point in wishful thinking. Now, if only her left hand would stop tingling, she might be able to enjoy herself. . . .

Outside the ballroom, in the darkness of the cold autumn night, a lone sliver of moonlight pierced the clouds that had rolled in from the Atlantic. It fell on the gabled roofs of King’s Stone and on a gargoyle perched there, with skin the color and texture of quarried rock.

It lifted its broad, doglike head, sniffing the sea air with wide, flat nostrils. Off in the distance there was a brief flicker of light, followed by a low rumble.

Growling in anticipation, Talus spread his leathery wings and took to the air, eager to return to his master’s side. The storm would be here soon. Very soon.

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About the Author

Nancy A. Collins

is a recipient of the Horror Writers Association Bram Stoker Award and the British Fantasy Society Icarus Award, as well as a nominee for the Eisner, the John W.