The Meridian Gamble (15 page)

And it feels strange, to think
about these other women, how Adam might have used them. And I wonder if he
truly cared for them, or if they were just pawns. A part of me is horrified to
think they may have suffered on my behalf. But I can’t ponder that right now. I
have more immediate concerns, such as for my own safety.

“What if they read my mind? What if
these other vampires can pick up on my thoughts and figure out who I am?”

A low laughter comes from the
earpiece of the phone.

“Those mental midgets won’t pick up
on a thing. I’m the strongest telepath among them … well, one of the stronger
ones, at least in the States. And if I can’t read your thoughts, they won’t. You
have a knack for blocking them out, whether you realize it or not. We’ll be
fine.”

Somehow, I’m less than convinced. But
it’s Adam telling me I’ll be safe, which has to mean something. And if he’s
spent all this time looking for me, he’ll hardly be quick to throw me into the
lion’s den, not unless he thinks I can survive.

And he’s right about one thing. If
we’re going to have this relationship, this is something I’ll have to face.

“All right, I’m game. Dinner sounds
like a hoot. What should I wear?”

“Whatever you wear will be fine. Shall
I pick you up at say … 7:30 at your place?”

“Sounds good to me,” I say. And I
hang up the phone.

Great, it’s
official. I’m definitely going to meet more vampires. I lower my head, and bang
it against the desk, in frustration. And I realize what an idiot I am to think
that I would be getting any work done today. Because all I can think about now
is how to prepare for a vampire dinner party.

I get home from work, and stand in
front of my closet for quite a while, pondering potential outfits. Because this
is different than dressing for just Adam, who at least is attracted to me. I
have no idea what I’m walking into tonight, if the people there will even like
me.

And to make matters worse, Adam was
frustratingly stingy with details, or hints on what to wear. How many guest
will be there tonight? Are we going to someone’s house, or will it maybe be at
his home?

I picture myself walking up to a
scary brownstone mansion, maybe on the Upper East side, decorated with lots of
wrought iron grating that’s covered in cobwebs. And a tall, gothic woman will
preside over the event, one who looks like she stepped out of the Addam’s
Family.

Or maybe she’ll be unspeakably
beautiful, wearing an outfit from the cover of Vogue.

As I flip through clothes, I catch
sight of a bright purple splash of color from the dress I wore last night. My
“Trevor Dress,” which maybe now I’ll start thinking of as my “Adam Dress.” And
for a moment, I wish I hadn’t already worn it, because it would have been
perfect for tonight. Or maybe not. Is sexy really the look I want to go for? Walking
into a den of hungry bloodsuckers looking like a scrumptious treat may not be
the best idea, especially when I’m not entirely certain that I won’t be part of
the menu.

I decide that I need to look
powerful, like I’m not a victim. And I find a pair of black dress pants I
bought on a recent shopping trip with Staci. They’re just a bit flowy, and I
hope that they’ll make me look elegant and sophisticated. My one hesitation is
that I think they look a bit cheap, which couldn’t be farther from the truth. I
paid a fortune for these things at Saks, but for some reason the material looks
like it could still be a polyester blend. All I can do is hope that the
vampires know their designers. And I have the perfect beige silk blouse to pair
with them, one I can unbutton at the top to give the outfit just a hint of sex
appeal.

I go to my dresser mirror, and
begin putting on some blush. And as I stand there, stressing over how my look
will go over, a strange thought crosses my mind. Maybe I know more about what
I’m stepping into tonight than I realize. Adam had said it, didn’t he? That
everything I need to know about vampires is locked away in my mind, from my
time as Saga. Maybe I’ve even met the people who we’ll be mingling with. They
live forever, don’t they? That’s the vampires’ thing. And remembering it all
would be an incredible advantage to have.

Maybe now is the time for me to
press my powers.

I reach out, and put my hand on my
dresser. It’s four drawers high, a cheap piece with a thin layer of varnish,
like the rest of the stuff in my bedroom. I screwed it together from a box I
ordered off the Internet. And though it’s hardly sturdy, it’s something to
ground myself with.

I stare off into the imaginary
distance, the way I always do when I meditate or try to tune into the energy
around me. And the room seems to flicker and bend. And I can see it, a slight
electric haze that fills the air, rushing back and forth before my eyes. But
after a moment, it fizzles and everything snaps back into place.

I try it again, but somehow, I
can’t summon at will the weird random shifts that have been happening, I can’t
call on the past no matter how hard I try. But there is something I sense; a
subtle wall of emotion that blocks me. Somehow, I know that whatever lies in
the past is intense, or maybe even frightening. I know there’s something there
I don’t want to see. But maybe it’s for the best. Lord knows, I have enough
drama on my plate for one night.

Screw it, I’ll just have to face
the vampires with the knowledge and experience that I’ve gained from this
lifetime. How much worse can they be than the monsters at Creative Quorum?

I finish my hair and make-up, and
it’s still a bit early. And I’m far too antsy to wait around for Adam to knock
on the door without buzzing up. So I go downstairs to beat him to the punch. And
the night air helps to calm me. But I don’t have long to wait. He walks up to
the front of my building right at the appointed hour.

Adam doesn’t seem terribly
surprised to find me standing outside. Instead, he has that wonderful
expression on his face, like he’s glowing when he sees me. And it makes me
happy to have clicked with someone in a way that isn’t forced or fake.

He kisses me on the cheek, and we
start walking down the street.

“Did you miss me?”

“Oh, yeah,” I say. “It’s getting so
that you’re the only thing that I think about.”

“I like that,” he says. “Now you
know how I’ve felt for the past hundred years.”

And though it’s heaven being with
Adam, ever since I’ve met him, I can’t shake this strange feeling as we walk
along. It’s as if I’m constantly being watched. Or followed. And tonight is no
exception.

I look around at the buildings and
cars, the faces that pass us on the sidewalk, looking for something suspicious.
But New York is so busy, and I can’t spot anything out of the ordinary, aside
from a red van parked on the street that advertises “Hammond & Sons --
Bathtub and Sink Refinishing.” Which could be hiding detectives or undercover
cops. It’s almost too obvious, and I wonder if it holds some of his foes. But
if Adam is worried, I can’t tell. He bears a pleasant expression, seemingly
enjoying the night. But I have to ask. There are too many questions in my mind
that have been left unresolved.

“So if you have all these enemies
…”

“The one enemy, Meridian. The
Luminos. Trust me, there aren’t many out there who are gutsy enough to come
after us.”

“Ok, the Luminos. Why aren’t you
worried about walking on the street?”

“They’re more the ones who need to
worry, if I find them,” Adam says, smiling.

And again, a chill runs down my
spine, as I get a quick glimpse of his dangerous nature.

“Actually, they haven’t attacked us
for quite a while,” Adam says. “Which in itself is a cause for concern. And
we’re trying to figure out why. But in the meantime, we’re still diligent about
monitoring our surroundings. We have cameras and agents who canvas the area. And
though my powers aren’t effective against you, I am telepathic. I continually
scan the crowd, as we walk along, to see if they’re close. It’s not everyone
who can shield their mind. And the ones who can shouldn’t come near, because
it’s a giveaway.”

“Like me,” I say.

“Exactly.”

I look around, wondering what he
hears in the minds of the people on the street, what it sounds like in his
brain. I suspect it’s similar to the feeling I get when I have an intuition
about a person, that I instinctively feel they are or aren’t someone I can
trust, or someone I may not want to be near. Only louder.

“And, of course, I bring back-up.”

He nods toward the street, and I’m
slightly freaking out on the inside. The red van is still there, slowly
following us. It’s only a block or so back.

“I knew that van looked sketchy,” I
say.

“It must be all that Luminos
training that’s rattling around in your head.”

I laugh. The last thing I feel like
is a highly trained vampire assassin.

We cross the street and approach my
favorite building, the ominous Omnicom tower. And, as always, I can’t help but
to stare at it. There’s a small plaza out front, with a beautiful fountain made
from a rough slab of granite, which has a series of flat surfaces carved into
it. It almost looks like a stone crystal, and mirrors the building’s odd shape.
Tiny lights in the pool of water at its base illuminate the fountain, and I
think it looks gorgeous, especially on this night.

For a moment, I think about asking
Adam to go inside with me, to finally check the place out. And I wonder again
where it is he’s taking me.

“So where is this party?”

“Right here.”

“Right where?”

“Right here,” he says, pointing up
to the tower.

“Here? In the Omnicom building?”

“Yes,” Adam says, smiling. “It’s
our company.”

I stop in my tracks, and there’s a
sinking feeling that hits my stomach, which is becoming almost too familiar.

“Adam, you’ve got to be kidding me.
I’ve been staring at this place for months from my rooftop.”

“Hmmm, interesting,” he says,
looking me over, studying me, once more. “You really do have a strong
intuition. You always did.”

“No, seriously. This is freaking me
out. This building has always fascinated me. I’ve practically been obsessed
with it. I wondered what kind of company it was. I even wanted to go in and
apply for a job, just to see what was going on inside.”

“Well, now’s your chance.”

He leads me up the steps toward the
entrance, but again, I stop in my tracks. A wave of panic hits me.

“I’m not sure I can do this.”

“Come on, Meridian. You’ve got to
be strong. I’ll be with you.”

And even though I feel anything but
strong, my fascination with the tower is all too real. I’ve wondered about it
for so long that I’m almost relieved my curiosity will be fed. But I can’t help
but to be scared that going inside will be like opening Pandora’s box, that
I’ve been so intrigued by it because I knew on some level the dark secrets it
holds inside. And once I open the lid, I’ll never be able to make them go away
again.

I take a deep breath, and allow
Adam to lead me in.

It’s not like the Creative Quorum
building. There are glass doors that automatically part for us, triggered by a
sensor. And everything is clean and bright. There’s no shabby brown carpet or
dull, earth-toned paint. Instead, the lobby is all white marble, a few shades
lighter than the kind used for our receptionist stations on the 16th and 18th
floors. And there are two middle-aged men who sit behind a slab of their own,
as they stare at what has to be a row of concealed monitors. The guards don’t
seem particularly vampiric, and they don’t so much as look up as Adam and I
walk by.

Past the two security lumps, there
are elevators, three on each side that face each other, and a small hallway
behind them that holds a snack shop. The hall veers to the right, which is
where Adam takes me, toward a door that reads, “Maintenance Staff Only.” He
smiles, as we go inside.

Right past the doors is a service
elevator, and another small hall. Adam presses a button, and the doors
immediately open. He swipes a keycard, and hits a button for the 40th floor. And
according to the buttons on the panel, there are 20 more floors above it.

I’m no stranger to freight
elevators, working as an assistant in Administration at Creative Quorum. I’ve
ridden the one in our building many times, showing the new mail boys their
routes or directing a mover where to put an expensive piece of furniture for
some spoiled executive’s office. They’ve always been sexy to me, dirty and
filled with rough men, and I’m reminded of the time I made out in the freight
elevator at Creative Quorum with the former Mailroom Supervisor, Roger Bauer,
an aspiring actor who quit the company to perform in an off Broadway play. And
I’m wondering if Adam and I will grovel here, though I try to restrain myself.

It seems odd to me that this is the
method we use to get to the vampires’ inner sanctum.

“We have the other elevators rigged
so they can’t go any higher than the 39
^th
floor,” Adam says. “Floors
10 through 39 are the company, but the higher levels are our living quarters.”

“And is everyone at the company …?”

“Not vampires. Most of our workers
are humans, even the higher-level executives. Very few of them even know
anything about us.”

“What exactly does Omnicom do?”

“Everything. But a good chunk of
our business is biopharmaceuticals,” Adam says. “We specialize in blood
diseases, but work on cures for all illnesses. We have a vested interest in
keeping human beings healthy. But, as I’ve mentioned, we have other
investments.”

“And doesn’t anyone question what’s
happening on the top floors of the building?”

“As far as our employees know, the
top floors have been rented out to a think tank that’s doing research for the
company. And the rest of the building believes it’s all just part of the
mysterious Omnicom.”