After Dark (6 page)

Cally walked over to the desk and picked up a stack of paper next to the computer. As she fanned through it, she realized the sheets were photocopies of sketches for the new Maison d’Ombres ready-to-wear collection.

Although the basic designs were solid, they looked far too matronly for Cally’s taste. She plucked a piece of parchment from one of the pigeonholes lining the upper portion of the desk and, using a scrivening talon lying on the desk, began to sketch out her own version of the same outfits.

“What are you doing in my office?”

Cally was so startled by the sound of Baron Metzger’s voice that she jumped. Lost in what she was doing, she’d forgotten where she was. She turned to find her host looming over her, a perturbed look on his face.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Baron! I was just looking around and I saw these sketches…. I was bored, and I started doodling….”

“May I see them?” Metzger asked, holding out his hand.

Cally meekly handed the parchment over. “I’m really sorry if I overstepped my bounds. I realize I’m a guest in your house….”

The Baron’s eyebrows rose so high they disappeared into his hairline. “Don’t be sorry, my dear,” he said as he studied Cally’s sketches. “The changes you’ve made to these designs really are quite clever.”

“I beg your pardon, Baron,” the butler said as he stepped into the room.

“Yes, Edgar?” Metzger said. “What is it?”

“There is a Mr. Mauvais here to see you. He says he is on Synod business.”

“I’ll be there directly, Edgar.” Metzger set aside the sketches and motioned for Cally to follow him.

Anton Mauvais stood in the living room, scowling up at the Picasso hanging over the mantelpiece. Around his neck hung the seal of a Synod: an amulet resembling a clock face.

“Good evening, Anton,” Metzger said as he entered the room. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“There is a board of inquiry being held this evening to address the question of your daughter,” Mauvais said sourly. “You are both to come with me to the Naos.”

C
ally anxiously looked around as she and Baron Metzger were led across the Central Park West office building’s polished marble lobby. The elevator took them to the lowest level, buried deep beneath the streets of the city. On exiting, they were met by a pair of well-muscled undead with submachine guns slung over their shoulders. The red epaulets on their leather trench coats marked them as Crimson Guards, the private army of the Lord Chamberlain.

Cally and the Baron were led down a long, low brick-lined tunnel to an iron door inscribed with a larger version of the amulet Mauvais wore around his neck. Mounted in its center was the chthonic ideogram for the word
blood
cast in gold. The door opened with a squealing sound. Standing on the threshold was an older man with a long beard and robust build, dressed in the scarlet robes of an archpriest.

“Greetings, Father Lazarus,” Mauvais said. “Have the others arrived?”

“They are all here,” the archpriest replied, stepping away to allow the newcomers entrance.

They walked into a huge, circular room with a forty-foot vaulted ceiling. This was the Naos, the shrine dedicated to the thirteen Founders of the vampire race. Twelve alcoves were set into the walls. In each one stood a twenty-foot-tall idol fashioned from ebony. In the very center of the chamber, positioned like the angle on a sundial, stood the idol dedicated to the thirteenth and most powerful of the Founders: Urlok the Terrible, whose winged arms were held open as if in welcome. Or attack.

Count Orlock and Victor Todd, along with a man Cally did not recognize, were seated at a large stone table positioned in front of Urlok. At either end of the table were more Crimson Guards, who stared at her like automatons.

“Come forward, Metzger—it is time for you to answer for your sins against the Blood,” the third man said grimly.

“Whether Baron Metzger has sinned against the Blood has yet to be determined, Count de Laval,” Count Orlock interjected. “That is what this board of inquiry is to decide.”

“Count de Laval? Are you Jules’s father?” Cally asked. “He was my escort at the Grand Ball….”

“Don’t remind me,” he sniffed.

“Frankly, I don’t understand why you’re insisting on this inquiry, Julian,” Victor said testily. “You should be
praising
this girl as a hero, not condemning her as a threat! She not only saved my life, she single-handedly destroyed the greatest enemy of her people!”

“Her people’? Ha!” Count de Laval sneered. “She’s
not
a vampire, Victor!”

“Yet neither is she human,” Count Orlock pointed out. “However, these arguments do not address the central issue before this board. Baron Metzger, why did you represent your hybrid daughter as being a true-blood at the Rauhnacht Grand Ball?”

“I admit my deceit, but my decision was made out of pride, not malice,” Metzger replied. “Throughout her life, I have been forced to deny Cally as my child for fear of how my wife might react. Once I became a widower, I was finally free to claim my daughter. She is a magnificent girl—incredibly smart and talented. Did you know she started developing stormgathering talents before the age of twelve?”

Count Orlock lifted an eyebrow, apparently impressed. “Really? That young?”

“I don’t care if she can juggle chain saws while reciting Proust!” Count de Laval snarled. “You have made a deliberate mockery of one of our most cherished traditions!”

Baron Metzger squared his shoulders, refusing to be intimidated. “I realize that Purists such as yourself see no value in human blood beyond slaking your thirst, but
all
vampires have some human DNA in them, no matter how little: even
you
, Count de Laval!

“Whether we like it or not, humans aren’t the frightened cavemen our ancestors preyed on anymore. The only hope for the vampire race’s continued existence is
more
interbreeding with humans, not
less
! We’re being strangled in an ever-tightening noose of technology—cameras are everywhere! Pretty soon we’ll be pushed back to the caves. The Institute will be the least of our worries then.”

Count de Laval leaped to his feet, striking the tabletop hard with his fist. “
Heresy!
”

“Were the Founders heretics, then?” Victor replied. “Baron Metzger is right: we wouldn’t exist if vampires hadn’t bred with humans in the past. There is
nothing
in the scrolls forbidding the Grand Ball to those with human blood in their veins. It merely states that any female child being presented must have at least
one
parent of the Old Blood. Cally meets that requirement.”

“I should have known you would take up for Metzger!” Count de Laval spat in disgust. “You’re his liege lord!”

“Victor is correct,” Count Orlock said. “There is nothing that specifically prohibits hybrids from participating in the Grand Ball. Why, I recall back in 1703 when a kinsman of my first wife introduced his half-human daughter, Grozda, at the Grand Ball in Kiev—”

“Be that as it may,” Count de Laval growled, cutting off Count Orlock in mid-anecdote, “we all know what happened the
last
time the Shadow Hand was made manifest! I say it’s better to get rid of her now than run the risk of her going rogue!”

Victor Todd stood to make his point. “Despite what you believe, Count de Laval, Cally is
not
Pieter Van Helsing. She has not suffered the same cruelty Pieter did at the hands of his father’s people. She doesn’t hate us—at least not yet. With her we have an opportunity that we squandered with Pieter—a second chance to take the Shadow Hand’s power and make it work
for
us instead of
against
us. Then we would never have to live in fear of human attack ever again!”

“I’ll admit some of what you say intrigues me, Victor,” Count de Laval said grudgingly. “But I still say the risk is too great to allow the child to live. What is your opinion, Boris?”

“My family has learned the folly of valuing the purity of our bloodright above all things,” Count Orlock said solemnly. “Baron Metzger is right: there is no returning to the old days. To continue to fold inward does nothing but diminish us.” He rose from his chair and lifted his eyes to the vaulted ceiling. “Come forward, Klaus. It’s all right, son—you can show yourself now.”

Cally followed the Count’s gaze and saw what looked like a storybook demon roosting on the shoulder of one of the idols, staring down at her with black eyes the size of saucers. She instinctively gasped as the creature unfurled the pinioned, batlike wings on its back and swooped down from its perch.

The eldest son of Count Orlock was close to seven feet tall and covered in smooth, close-cropped gray fur, with knees that hinged backward. Unlike the winged form taken by normal vampires, Klaus had a pair of wings growing out of his back, set above a pair of perfectly normal, fully functional human arms.

“By the Darkest Powers! You brought that monstrosity
here
?” Count de Laval hissed indignantly.

“You can’t have it both ways, Julian,” Count Orlock told his brother-in-law. “You can’t condemn the ‘dilution’ of the vampire race while at the same time reviling the result of inbreeding.” He held out his hand to Klaus, who scurried to his father’s side. Count Orlock smiled fondly as he scratched his eldest child behind the ears. “When he was born, I was told I should destroy him, just as he destroyed my beloved wife. They called him a freak, a throwback—everything but what he is: my son.

“I know what it is like to be proud of a child others revile, to desire the best for him, even when you know it is impossible,” Count Orlock said, smiling at Baron Metzger. “Because of that, I cannot find it in my heart to condemn you for what you have done. In fact, if your daughter had not been at the Grand Ball the other night, I daresay the outcome would have been far worse than it was. I, too, believe that we have been given a unique opportunity here, one that we dare not squander out of fear. As ranking Synodist for the City of New York, I propose that Cally Monture be released to the custody of her father, Baron Karl Metzger, and that she be subject to regular monitoring and inspection by Synod officials to determine whether or not she is a genuine threat to the vampire race.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency,” Baron Metzger said, bowing his head in gratitude.

“This is
outrageous
!” Count de Laval sputtered. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing! I’m going to appeal this decision to the Lord Chamberlain himself!”

“Just go ahead and do that,” Count Orlock replied icily.

Count de Laval gathered himself up and marched out of the Naos. As Anton Mauvais turned to follow his liege, he fixed the Baron with an angry glare.

“I wouldn’t get too attached to the brat if I were you, Metzger,” he whispered. “This is far from over.”

“
T
hat’s okay, Edgar!” Cally shouted over her shoulder as she hurried past the butler to answer the buzzer. Having been raised without servants, undead or otherwise, she was far more comfortable doing things herself. “I’ll get it!”

Edgar stopped in his tracks. “Yes, Miss Cally,” he replied before returning to wherever it was he lurked in between household tasks.

“Thanks for coming by.” Cally smiled as she opened the door.

“No problem,” Melinda Mauvais said, looking around as she entered apartment. “Wow! Nice place! But don’t you live in Williamsburg?”

“Not anymore,” Cally replied vaguely, unwilling to go into any further detail for fear of stirring up emotions best left unseen. “This is where I’m staying now.”

“My father said something about you being brought before the Synod. Is that true?”

“Sorta.” Cally shrugged. “But everything worked out okay. Although I don’t think your dad likes me very much.”

“My dad’s an asshole,” Melinda replied as she flopped down on the living room sofa. “After we got home from the Grand Ball, he gave me this lecture about how he doesn’t want me hanging out with you anymore because you’re half human.”

“Aren’t you afraid of him getting mad when he finds out you’re still friends with me?” Cally asked.

“I think my
own
thoughts and live my
own
life, thank you very much. But you know that already—you’ve met my friend from Chinatown, remember? Besides, are
you
worried about your father’s liege lord finding out about the Maledetto sisters?”

“I see your point,” Cally said with a smile.

“So, what do you want to do tonight?” Melinda asked. “We could go check out this club I heard about.”

“I don’t feel like clubbing…. I was thinking we could go to Sister Midnight’s.”

“I
love
shopping there!” Melinda exclaimed, her face brightening. “She
always
stocks the cutest shoes! Are you looking for a new outfit?”

“Not exactly,” Cally replied. “I want to talk to her about carrying a line of clothes I’ve designed.”

“Girl, you’re kidding me—right?” Melinda said excitedly.

“No, I’m being totally straight.” Cally laughed, holding up Sister Midnight’s business card. “She
really
liked the evening gown I designed for the Grand Ball. See? She gave me this.”

“Let me see!” Melinda squealed, snatching the embossed card out of her friend’s hand. “
Ooohhh
! This is so great! I can’t believe it!”

“I just need to get a couple of samples to take with me,” Cally explained.

“Hurry up and pick something, then!” Melinda said, shooing her friend out of the room.

Unlike stores owned and operated by humans, which had bright lighting designed to show the merchandise off to its best advantage, the interior of Sister Midnight’s resembled a romantically lit restaurant. After all, the select clientele who browsed the aisles all had excellent night vision.

Cally looked admiringly at the glossy black cabinetry and smoked glass counters of the sales floor, trying to picture one of her creations on the chic mannequin posed before the cosmetics counter.

An undead salesclerk, her hair pulled up into a fashionably severe bun, stepped forward.

“Welcome to Sister Midnight’s.” Her gaze dropped down to the garment bag draped over Cally’s arm. “Do you have a return?”

“No, I’m here to see the owner. She gave me this.” Cally handed the salesclerk the business card she’d shown Melinda.

“Wait right here. I’ll fetch the mistress.”

“There’s no need—I’m already here,” Sister Midnight said, stepping out from behind a rack of cashmere dresses. “Cally, my dear!” she exclaimed, opening her arms in welcome. “I heard how you saved Victor Todd from that wretched Christopher Van Helsing! Your father must be
so
proud of you right now! It is an
honor
to have you in my shop!”

“Yes, well, I remembered what you said about liking my dress,” Cally replied, blushing at the older woman’s praise.

“Are these some more of your creations?” Sister Midnight asked, taking the garment bag out of Cally’s hands. “I trust you brought me something
fabulous
! Come—let’s go to my office, shall we?”

“Can my friend join us?” Cally asked, taking Melinda’s hand in her own.

“If it makes you happy, I don’t see why not.”

Sister Midnight quickly ushered the girls into a room at the back of the store. She placed the garment bag on her desk and unzipped it. While she inspected the clothes, Cally and Melinda stared in awe at the wall of autographed photographs of famed designers and fashion models, all of them signed to
Sis
.

“Did you really meet Coco Chanel?” Cally asked.

“
Meet
her?” Sister Midnight laughed. “Darling, where do you think she got the idea for that little black dress? As for you, young lady, I really like the iridescent midnight blue wrap dress you have here—especially the way it puffs out below the waist. And this appliquéd denim skirt is absolutely
precious
! Did you do all this needlework by hand?
Most
impressive!

“I’ve been steadily losing younger customers over the last few years to the human boutiques and brands, and I think this might be just what I need to bring them back into the shop. Would you be interested in presenting your collection here at the boutique?”

“You mean a fashion show?” Cally gasped. “A
real
fashion show?”

“You’ll need at
least
twelve looks,” Sister Midnight warned her. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all!” Cally replied, even though she knew she had nowhere near that many pieces ready to go.

“Very good. I’ll keep these two outfits and have my seamstresses fit them to the runway models we’ll be using for the show. That’ll leave you with ten more.” She pulled a BlackBerry out of her jacket pocket. “How does two weeks from now sound?”

“Great!” Cally smiled, trying not to panic.

“This is going to be
the
event of the season, my dear!” Sister Midnight enthused. “I mean, you’ve already got serious buzz working for you! Slaying the head of the Van Helsing Institute? Sweetheart, you couldn’t buy that kind of PR even if you tried!”

Cally’s smile evaporated. “You mean, the reason people are going to be interested in my fashion show is because I
killed
someone?”

“Not just ‘someone,’ darling! It’s like you got rid of that Al-Qaeda fellow the clots are so upset about! Of
course
people are going to want to come and see you, Cally! You’re a hero!”

“But I’m
not
a hero,” Cally protested. “I’m just me. I mean—I want them to like my designs for what they are, not what I’ve
done
.”

“And they
will
, my sweet!” Sister Midnight said, draping an arm around Cally’s shoulders. “Curiosity will bring them in, but once they’re here, they’ll fall in love with your work, just as I have.”

“You really think so, Sister Midnight?”

“Darling, I
know
so,” she said reassuringly. “And call me Sis.”

“I can’t believe what just happened!” Melinda shook her head in amazement. “Sister Midnight—
the
Sister Midnight—just offered to host your first collection!”

“Yeah, I can’t believe it, either,” Cally replied, a dazed look on her face.

“I can’t wait to tell Bella and Bette!”

“No!” Cally begged. “Please don’t.”

Melinda frowned. “Why wouldn’t you want everyone to know about something as cool as this?”

“I want them to know, but not right now, that’s all. It’s just that I’m afraid some of the girls at school might try and screw it up for me.”

“You mean Lilith.” Melinda sighed. “Okay, I promise I’ll keep it on the down low, but you’ve
got
to give me something in return. How about making me one of the runway models?
Pleeease
?”

“I don’t see why not.” Cally smiled. “I’ll talk to Sis about it.”

“
Yay
!” Melinda clapped in delight. “I’m buying something to celebrate! Come with me?”

“Thanks, but I’m going to head back to the Plaza. I need to unpack my sewing machine ASAP if I’m gonna have that many looks ready in two weeks.”

Melinda grabbed her friend’s hands and kissed the air beside her cheek. “Congratulations, Cally! I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks for coming with me, Melly,” Cally said. “It really meant a lot.”

“No problem—see you at school!” With that, Melinda hurried off in search of the ever-elusive perfect shoe, platinum credit card in hand.

As Cally entered the elevator, someone tapped her on the shoulder. Thinking it was Melinda, she said, “What’s the matter? Don’t they have any slingbacks that fit you?”

“Probably not,” Lucky Maledetto replied with a smile.

“What are
you
doing here?” Cally exclaimed.

“You needn’t look so surprised to see me! Sister Midnight
does
have a men’s department, you know.” He chuckled, holding up a small glossy black shopping bag. “I needed a few ties.”

“I’m glad to see you,” Cally admitted.

“You are?” Lucky’s smile grew even wider.

“Yes, I wanted to thank you for the other night. I had a great time before, uh, you know. I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

“Same here. But aren’t you pretty far from home? Do you need a ride back to Williamsburg?”

“No, that’s not necessary,” Cally said, her smile faltering. “I’m living with my father at the Plaza now.”

“Really?” Lucky cocked an eyebrow in surprise. “The Upper East Side is a big step up from Williamsburg.”

“Tell me about it!” She laughed, rolling her eyes.

As the elevator doors opened, Lucky reached out and caught her by the elbow before she could step out into the lobby. “Hey—have you been to Central Park yet?”

“I know it sounds dumb, but I guess when you’re a native New Yorker, you just don’t think of going to touristy places like that,” Cally admitted.

“I bet you’ve never been to the Statue of Liberty, either.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“That’s okay—I’ve never been to the top of the Empire State Building. Look, we could stand around and compare all the places we’ve never been to or I can show you around the park. Which would you prefer?”

“I’d love to! See the park, that is,” Cally replied.

“There’s only one way to do the park after dark,” Lucky said, wrapping her hand around his arm. “Come with me—we’re going to go see a man about a horse.”

Cally leaned back, staring up at the night sky as the horse-drawn carriage slowly made its way through the park, its hooves clopping rhythmically on the black pavement.

“Thanks for suggesting this, Lucky. I can’t believe I waited so long to come here.” She sighed. “This place is amazing!”

“I know what you mean,” he replied. “Nowhere else in the city can you lose all sense of where you are. If you go far enough inside the park, you can’t even hear the traffic or see the skyscrapers. It’s like you’re in your own world, thousands of miles away from your normal life.”

Cally turned to look at him for a long moment, studying his profile against the glow of the old-fashioned streetlights that lined the pathways. “Can I ask you something, Lucky?”

“Sure. Go ahead and shoot,” he said, flashing her a crooked smile.

“Why are Victor Todd and your dad enemies?”

Lucky shook his head. “Why do you want to know something like that? Besides, what difference does it make?”

“Because Vinnie is your dad and Victor is…Victor is my father’s liege lord. I mean, by rights, we shouldn’t even be
talking
to each other.”

“Well, if you really want to know, the truth is that Todd and my dad weren’t always enemies. Fact is, they used to be friends.”

“They were friends?” Cally frowned. “When was this?”

“Nearly a century ago. Like a lot of vampires, Todd immigrated to New York City in 1918. World War I and the Russian Revolution chased him out of Europe and into America. He came to the city looking for a new start. He and my dad hit it off, and Todd ended up running a string of speakeasies. He was pretty damn good at it, too. He was a top earner for the Strega.

“Then, about fifty years ago, Todd gets the idea for HemoGlobe. It’s basically the same thing as the speakeasies, except instead of peddling laced product out of a club, he’s delivering it straight or laced right to your door for a monthly fee, just like the milkman.

“My old man was hopping mad when he found out what Todd was up to. As he saw it, legit blood banking cut into his business. And since Todd got the idea for HemoGlobe from working the speakeasies, he figured Vic owed him a taste. But that’s not how Todd saw it, of course. So one thing led to another, bada-bing bada-boom, the next thing you know, it’s a matter of honor and they’re enemies.”

“How do you feel about him? Todd, I mean.”

“Me? I got no grudge against Vic,” Lucky said with a shrug. “I can’t fault a guy for seeing a market and taking advantage of the situation. But still, family is family. You got to stick by them, no matter whether it makes sense to you or not. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid I do.” Cally sighed, snuggling closer against Lucky as he slid a strong, comforting arm around her shoulders.