She Dies at the End (November Snow #1) (22 page)

The vision passed quickly, but not quickly enough to avoid epic humiliation.  As she returned to the present, she looked up to see King Ilyn, whose hand was in her own gloved one, helping her back to her feet.   “So this is the little pythoness who’s causing so much trouble.”

November wobbled and tried to pull herself together as William replied, “Yes.  Father, meet November Snow.  You’ll have to forgive her.  Her visions often come without warning.”

The king bent and kissed her gloved hand.  She couldn’t quite read his expression.  Perhaps he was amused.  November managed to say, “How do you do, your grace?”  She then couldn't help adding in her own defense, “Though I don’t so much cause trouble as report it, sir.”

A woman snorted.  She was tall and beautiful, but overly made-up, and no amount of makeup could hide her unpleasantness.  She stood rather possessively next to the king, and November realized that she must be Lilith, the infamous Grocer.

“She prevents trouble, too, from what I hear from my son,” added a tall, dark-skinned fairy with a waterfall of long, tight, forest green curls.  She could only be Birch’s mother, Hazel.  “Texas certainly thinks rather highly of her.  That would have been a bloodbath without her warning.”  November gave the king’s imposing lieutenant a grateful look.

“Should we go to my office to discuss what you’ve seen?” William asked.  November wasn't sure whether he was trying to spare her further embarrassment or if he was worried about her sharing sensitive information in so public a setting.  Realistically, it was probably the latter.

“It was nothing important, my lord, really,” November replied, willing this conversation to end.  She didn’t appreciate this new scrutiny, all these new eyes looking her up and down.  She wished that William had decided to hide her in Livermore for this visit, as he’d planned to do until he realized that the secret of her existence was most definitely out of the bag and that hiding her would make both him and the king look weak.

“Oh, no, please do tell,” Lilith sneered.  “I’m sure we’re all interested.”  November hesitated, prompting Lilith to add, “Afraid to reveal yourself as a fraud and a show-off, are you?”  Several courtiers tittered, and November felt her face redden.

“She isn’t a fraud,” William replied, obviously irritated. “If she were, I wouldn’t have kept her here nor presented her to my father.”

“Perhaps you kept her for her . . . entertainment value,” the Grocer replied amusedly, provoking further giggles in the courtiers and instant hatred in November.

Throughout the banter, the king had not ceased in quietly examining November, though his face revealed nothing about his assessment.  “I’ve seen her reports.  My children are satisfied that she sees true, and I trust their judgment.”  Lilith did not look terribly pleased at her master’s quiet rebuke, but she quickly schooled her face.  “We’d best hope she is genuine, at any rate.  She may be the best hope for saving the kingdom,” the king stated, never taking his eyes from November’s face.  His unblinking gaze was profoundly unsettling.  He paused before continuing, “Enough greetings.  Settle in.  Some of us have work to do.”

A small group walked quickly toward the offices, while the rest of the courtiers followed Rose to find their quarters.  November and Zinnia escaped to the garden, followed closely by Pine.  With all of these people in the house, William was taking no chances with the psychic’s safety.

The two girls collapsed on a bench in an out-of-the-way corner of the grounds.  It was freezing, prompting November to wrap herself in a thick wool coat provided by Pine.   Zinnia, of course, could have been out there in a bikini and been comfortable.  November slid off her shoes and curled her cold toes into the dirt to wash away the last dregs of her vision.  “So, what did you see?” Zinnia asked as soon as November had tucked her icy feet back under her coat.

“I was in the ground, buried.  I couldn’t breathe.  Someone in the vision, maybe the king, took my hand, and I felt better.  Like, I still couldn’t breathe or see, but I realized that it didn’t matter anymore, since I was, you know, dead.  Then the real king took my hand, and I came around.  That’s about it,” she replied.

“Creepy.  Ever see that before?”

“Nope.  I suppose that’s officially the second vision I’ve ever had of my own future, though I guess it’s really just an addendum to the old burial one.”  She looked up through the bare branches at the dark sky before adding, “That Grocer is pretty much repulsive.”

“For sure.  I wanted to punch that withered old blood-sucker in the mouth,” her friend loyally agreed.  “Premier Hazel seems cool, though,” she added.  November nodded agreement, unsurprised that the powerful matriarch of a family that had produced Birch and Pine was a tall drink of awesome.  “So, what did you think of the king?”  Zinnia asked avidly.

“Imposing.  Scary,” she said after pausing to think.  “I’m nervous that he thinks I’m a twit, with all the falling down and everything,” she confided.

“Didn’t you hear him?  He thinks you’re his salvation,” her friend retorted.  “Plus, he was totally checking you out.”

“I’m pretty sure 2500 year old vampire kings don’t check people out,” Pine said, reminding them of his presence.  He had this way of blending into the background and making them forget he was there.  “But if they did, he totally was,” he teased with a smile.  He held up his phone.  “You’ve been summoned,” he informed November, so she dusted off her feet, replaced her shoes, and tried not to shake in them as she returned to the house, this time up to Lord William’s office.  

On the walk back to the building, she saw a number of humans lined up by the service entrance under the eye of Lilith, who stood by the door with an assistant with a clipboard in hand.  At her inquiring look, Pine explained, “Dinner.”  He grimaced, seeming to find this all a bit unseemly.  “There are a lot of prostitutes available in Oakland.  Not as many as in Las Vegas, but plenty.  And if some vampire goes too far, no one will miss them.  Some of the guests will have brought their own humans with them and stashed them in a hotel.  The fairies will go out hunting in the daytime, of course, since we can’t feed at night and it’s a lot easier for us to eat on the sly.”

"Ew," she replied.  She shuddered to think of how many of those poor girls might be victims of human trafficking or drug addiction or both.

"Yup." Pine shook his head. 

Once she reached the office, she was greeted by William, Savita, Birch, and Hazel.  After having a seat, November asked, ‘Where is the king?”

“Dining,” Hazel said, strain showing around her mouth.  Evidently, she did not approve of the Grocer's methods any more than her grandson Pine did.

“So,” William began without delay, “What did you see?”

“It was nothing.  Really.  I was in the ground.  I was scared because I couldn’t breathe or see.  Then someone took my hand and squeezed it, and I calmed down.  That’s all.”  The vampires both had a far-away look in their eyes for a moment, along with a touch of sympathy, as they remembered their own rebirths.

“That is the worst part,” Savita mused.  “Not the dying.  It’s the waking up that is so frightening.”

“So you saw nothing about Lilith?” Birch asked with a tinge of disappointment.

November was a bit surprised at the sudden turn in the conversation.  “No, sorry.  I probably wouldn’t, unless she touched me, or I had her favorite shoes or something.”  Apparently Lilith wasn’t very popular with this crowd.  “Did you want me to try?”

“No, I don’t think that’s wise.  We definitely don’t want you to catch her attention.  She is a very dangerous woman.”  William shook his head.  “I just don’t understand why he keeps her around.”

“She supplies a distraction from his pain,” Savita responded.  “And she keeps the courtiers in line, more or less.”

"You mean she encourages the king's worst impulses and she lets the courtiers skim money while I try desperately to keep the ship from running aground," Hazel chimed in bitterly.  Savita's little head bob acknowledged that perhaps Hazel's characterization was more accurate.

“Anyway, November, you can go.  Stay close to Pine and out of the guests’ way, and once the bloodsucking starts at the ball tomorrow, hightail it.”

“Yes, Lord Governor,” she said primly and rose to depart.

“Thank you for saving my grandson’s life, by the way,” Hazel chimed in as November reached the door.

November smiled as she turned back to face the elder fairy.  “I got lucky,” she replied.  “And he is a good friend to have.”

Pine walked her back to her room. She was grateful for his presence when they passed vampires and enthralled humans in the hallways.  There were lots of suggestive moans coming from behind numerous closed doors.  She stiffened when she heard a scream and looked to Pine.  “Nothing to be done,” he said sadly.  “Some enthrall them before so they won’t be scared.  Some like to scare them and enthrall them after so they won’t remember.”  His voice was tight with disapproval.  “They do get paid, handsomely, if that makes you feel any better.”  Part of her wanted to do something, but the rest of her knew that like much of what she had seen in her life, there was nothing for it.  
Someday, when I'm a vampire, I'm going to fix this
, she swore to herself. 

She did her best to keep her psychic blinders up, to little avail.  Sex and blood flashed through her head in roughly equal measure.  The worst part was the glimpse she got of King Ilyn with a rather pretty redheaded girl who seemed to have misplaced her clothes.  She, at least, was not terrified.  In fact, she seemed to be having quite a good time.  There was an image she was going to have trouble forgetting. 
I need some eye bleach
, she complained inwardly, her ears flushing bright red.

Zinnia was waiting for her when she finally reached her room. The fairy was sprawled out on November’s bed having changed into her favorite footie pajamas.  November pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh, prompting Zinnia to aggrievedly ask, “What?”

“First, you don’t even sleep.  Second, you look ridiculous,” November replied with a smile.

“They’re cozy.  And just for that, I’m getting you some for Chirstmas.”  Zinnia was quite gifted at making November forget her myriad worries, at least for a moment.

They settled in for a night of girl talk and continued their gossiping until November could no longer keep her eyes open.

***

With so many people in the house the night before, and so many expected for the ball, November savored the quiet time in the late afternoon right after she woke.  The vampires still slept like the dead, and the fairies were out mingling with their prey and enjoying the Bay Area’s sights almost as much as they were enjoying their fellow tourists.  She decided to prepare for the evening’s upcoming ball by practicing dancing in her new shoes, so she headed up to the ballroom in her jeans and turtleneck with her ridiculous heels in hand.  

She shook her head in disbelief when she put them on.  
This is insane.  This is literally insane. 
After taking a few wobbly laps, she opened herself up to visions of past celebrations, allowing the music to fill her heart as she danced with ghosts, surprised and pleased that she seemed to grow slightly more graceful with practice.  By the time she stopped dancing, she was reasonably sure she would be able to avoid abject humiliation if called upon to dance that evening.  She laughed at herself as she returned to the present.  Her giggle nearly turned a scream when she turned toward the door and saw King Ilyn standing there wrapped in a black hooded cape.

“Christ on a crutch!  Shouldn’t you be dead for the day?” she cried out in surprise before she'd had time to think.  Her eyes flew open, and she covered her mouth when she realized what she had said and to whom she had said it.  Her heart was pounding so loudly that everyone in the house could probably hear it.

Ilyn crinkled his eyes in amusement before answering, “I did not mean to frighten you.  The older we get, the less rest we need during the day.  The sun still burns, of course.  One must take care walking by windows.”  He twitched the cape by way of explanation.  “I heard dancing but no music, so I was . . . puzzled.”  He raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

“I, um, wanted to practice in my shoes?” she said lamely.  “So I wouldn’t embarrass myself?  Though it seems I’ve managed that anyway . . .” she trailed off.

“Why didn’t you turn on the music?” he asked, gesturing toward the tastefully hidden sound system.

“I just listen to the past.  I immersed myself in a vision of a dance that already happened,” she said.  “I think it’s kind of fun, learning all the old dances you people seem to like.”

“I see,” he said evenly, his face blank.  The young woman had no idea what to do or say, so she just stared at her crazy shoes.

There was a long silence before November finally ventured, “I should probably start getting ready for the party. . .”  She began inching awkwardly towards the door.

He suddenly said, “It has been some time since you have been bitten.”

“I beg your pardon?” she managed, taking a step back away from him.

She tried to take another one but found she could not move an inch.  She felt as though she was pressed against a wall, bound by some invisible force.  Ilyn came closer, gently brushing her hair back away from her ear before running the tip of his nose against her jaw.  Her eyes went wide, and it took all her self-control not to scream.  He sniffed her like she was a particularly expensive glass of wine before stepping away and releasing her from her invisible bonds.