by Alex Rivers
“Harutaka,” I said. “Find the seating arrangement file and change Mr. Boris Vasiliev’s name to the baroness. He was at table eighteen.” That way, when poor Boris got here and began shouting for his seat, they wouldn’t find out about the switch even if they checked with the computer.
“On it,” Harutaka said.
I slunk back into the dining hall, where the first guests were already being seated. Unseen, I removed Jonathan’s garment bag from under the table where I’d hidden it, and then sauntered over to him carrying it over my shoulder.
“There you go,” I said. “It was right where you left it, by the front gate.”
“Thanks,” he muttered. “I’ll just be a moment.”
He rushed to the kitchen to change his shirt, and I took a long breath. The night was just getting started.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I served the first few guests who sat down in the dining hall, while listening intently to my earphone. Sinead—or rather, Baroness Fleurette van Dijk—had just passed through the gate with no problem. The forgery of the invitation was flawless, and when they checked her name on the computer, it was there, just where Harutaka had put it.
“The couple at table fifty-seven both want martinis,” I told the bartender.
“Sure,” he said, smiling at me. “What are you doing later?”
“Going home to my boyfriend.” I smiled thinly.
“Hello,” the baroness’ voice buzzed in my ear.
“Good evening,” I heard the hostess reply. “Name?”
“Baroness Fleurette van Dijk.”
“Here you are, madam, table eighteen. I hope you have a lovely evening. Your personal servants can wait in the servants’ quarters, right over there.”
The servants’ quarters were in a separate structure, disconnected from the mansion. We had known this beforehand, and were prepared.
“Go on, darlings, I’ll be fine,” the baroness said. “Oh, Bente, would you please take my bag with you? I swear, the thing weighs a ton.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kane’s voice answered.
There was a moment of silence in the chat. I served the martinis to the elderly couple who had ordered them, smiling politely.
“Okay,” Kane whispered. “Isabel and I are entering the servants’ quarters, and Sinead is on her way to you. This place is unguarded.”
“It doesn’t need guards,” Harutaka said. “Every inch of the quarters is visible on the security feeds. I promise you there’s someone watching carefully to make sure none of the servants decides to take a walk.”
I tensed as a man entered the dining hall and glared around him with piercing eyes. Maximillian Fuchs, the security chief. The vampire.
“Maximillian just entered the dining hall,” I murmured.
“If you say so,” Harutaka said. He couldn’t see him in the security footage, of course.
“And here’s the baroness,” I added.
A lot of heads turned when Baroness Fleurette van Dijk entered the room. Dressed in a gorgeous scarlet dress with a glimmering translucent gray shawl on top, hands clad in feminine silk gloves, Sinead looked like a woman who could launch a thousand ships. She had the careless air of an aristocrat who was used to being the most sought-after person in the room. She glided with catlike grace to table eighteen and sat down, smiling at the other people at the table and introducing herself.
The vampire didn’t even glance at her twice. He didn’t care about beauty, or youth, or charm. She meant nothing to him. We would have to change that.
I began making my way toward Sinead the baroness when, ahead of me, I saw Jonathan hurrying toward her. I clenched my jaw, realizing he would reach her long before I would. Dammit! I needed to be the one serving her.
I flicked my wrist and my bracelet detached, the chain slinking into my palm. Almost imperceptibly, still walking toward Sinead, I tossed the chain forward. It coiled in the air, flying low, and entangled itself around Jonathan’s feet. He yelped and tripped, slamming to the ground. Everyone turned their eyes to him as I crouched by him, the chain slinking up my sleeve, now hidden.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Something… tripped me!” he winced.
“Everyone is looking at you.”
“Oh, god.” His nose squeaked.
“Don’t worry about it, just go to the kitchen for a bit. We’ve got you covered, chief.” I winked at him, with the expression of a soldier covering for her beloved commander.
He nodded and I helped him to his feet. He limped away, and I sidled over to the baroness, who gazed at the events with an expression of mock horror.
“Is the poor man okay?” she asked me, her Dutch accent bordering on outrageous.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry. His shoelaces were untied.”
“I see.” She sniffed. “All this chaos has made me thirsty. Tell me, do you people know how to make a Bloody Mary?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Good. Go light on the Worcestershire sauce, but don’t skimp on the vodka.” She flicked her hand at me imperiously.
“I’d like a glass of whiskey,” the man sitting next to her said. “No rocks.” He seemed distinctly pleased with himself for drinking straight whiskey.
“Vodka martini for me,” the woman next to him added. She had a mouth that reminded me of an angry llama video I’d once seen. “With four olives please.”
Because five olives would totally ruin her drink. Everyone thinks they’re special. Then again, at this VIP banquet, everyone probably was.
“Coming right up.” I smiled politely at them all and walked over to the bar. I gave the bartender the drink orders, and turned to watch the crowd.
Something was going on.
All heads were turned as a man entered the room. At first I couldn’t see what was so interesting about him—just another man in an old-fashioned suit. He had a cigar between his lips, a plume of smoke drifting from his mouth. Then I realized the cigar was unlit. And the smoke kept coming.
This was Ddraig Goch, the dragon.
Though I had known that dragons could wear the shape of men when it suited them, I was still caught by surprise. Once I understood who he was, I noticed a hundred little details. His eyes, predatory and lizard-like, the irises huge and green. The subtle scales that ran down the back of his neck. His fingernails, much too long.
His smile. The smile of a god among ants. Of a predator surrounded by food.
He stopped every few steps to swap a few words with an acquaintance, to shake the hand of a duke, to nod politely at the French ambassador.
Did these people know who he was? Did they realize he could open his mouth and incinerate us all? I doubted it. If any of them noticed the unlit cigar, they probably assumed it was some sort of trick. Most of them just thought he was a very powerful businessman. A man who could change fortunes with his endless resources, topple governments, create kings.
And they were right. But he was more. Much more.
I glanced at Sinead, and our eyes met. Her eyes were full of excitement, and fear. This was the creature we were about to rob. It was complete insanity.
“There you go,” the bartender said in a low voice, placing the drinks on the bar. “Man, to be that guy, huh? Must be great, knowing you’re at the top of the food chain.”
“Quite literally,” I whispered to myself.
I twisted my right hand, and the vial hidden in my sleeve dropped into my palm. I popped the cap open with my thumb. Then I picked up the drinks, pouring the contents of the vial into Sinead’s Bloody Mary. The crimson drops sank into the thick red drink, disappearing from sight.
I walked over to the table, placing the drinks in front of the guests. “One Bloody Mary. One vodka martini with four olives. And one whiskey, no rocks.”
None of them thanked me, too busy with their hushed conversation. The man was telling the baroness and llama-face that he had heard Ddraig Goch had made his initial fortune by smuggling opium and blood diamonds t
o France. I rolled my eyes and moved away, approaching another table.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the Baroness chugging her Bloody Mary as if it was a contest. Good. The potion would take a few minutes to start working. The sooner she finished it, the better.
It was probably my finest work.
Vampires drink only blood. The very thought of consuming anything else is abhorrent to them. I couldn’t spike the security director’s drink with a truth serum.
So I spiked Sinead’s blood instead.
The potion was aimed to do two things. First, it enhanced Sinead’s blood’s scent, hopefully making it a temptation Maximillian Fuchs couldn’t ignore. Second, her blood now contained a mixture of truth serum and a soporific drug. It should make anyone drinking Sinead’s blood woozy enough for her to pick his pocket for the keycard, and get the code to the vault door from him. If there was a Nobel prize for alchemical concoctions, this potion would be a potential candidate.
“Okay guys,” I murmured under my breath. “The baroness just drank the potion. You should probably get out of the servants’ quarters.”
“Sure,” Kane said. “Harutaka, can we leave?”
“Just one moment…” Harutaka said.
My heart pounded as I waited for Harutaka to do his magic. Kane and Isabel were being watched via the security cameras. Harutaka’s job was to tinker with the feed, overriding it with older security footage, from before they were there, making them invisible to whomever monitored the feeds. That was his main responsibility this evening—to make us digitally invisible.
“Okay,” Harutaka said. “Just inserting a bit of static to mask the replacement… there we go. You two are invisible. Go forth and make trouble.”
“We’re out,” Kane whispered.
Harutaka began murmuring instructions to Kane and Isabel, guiding them through the garden in a way that would avoid the patrols he followed via the untampered security feed. I tuned this out, focusing on my job. I glanced at Maximillian Fuchs. If he was sensing Sinead’s blood scent, he didn’t show any sign. I checked the time. Five minutes since she’d drunk the potion. It should have begun working by now. Was it not strong enough? Or was he much more in control than I had thought?
“Baroness, perhaps you should inspect that picture on the far wall,” I murmured.
The painting I referred to was only six feet from the vampire. It should be enough.
The baroness smiled thinly as she listened to the man beside her talking. Then she placed her hands on the table, and said, “Excuse me for just a moment.”
She got up, and made her way to the picture, her pace calm and certain. She sidled right past Maximillian Fuchs, and I focused on his eyes. A tiny frown. A fraction of head movement. And then he blinked, and looked away. Damn it.
“Baroness, can you get your heart rate up?” I asked.
“It’s as high as can be, darling,” she murmured. “I’m a bundle of nerves.”
“The potion isn’t strong enough. You’ll have to get your chest closer to the vampire’s nose.”
“Closer? What do you want me to do, darling, shove my cleavage into his face?”
Maximillian began to pace the room, looking around, occasionally stopping to talk to someone. I clenched my jaw tightly. “Okay, go back to your seat, I have an idea.”
I approached the bartender, trying to look much calmer than I felt. “I need a glass of red wine.”
“For you, or one of the guests?” He winked at me.
“I definitely need one for me, but no, this one is for one of our esteemed guests.”
“They have wine on the tables.”
I cursed myself. Of course they did. “He’s some kind of pretentious asshole. Said the acidity lingers too much.”
The bartender rolled his eyes. “Oh god. Tell you what. I’ll pour a glass of the cheapest wine we have here, and I bet you ten dollars he drinks it without noticing a damn thing.”
“You’re on.” I smiled.
“Acidity my ass,” he muttered, pouring the drink.
I picked up the glass and turned to look at the crowd. Maximillian was still making his rounds between the tables, and would reach Sinead’s table in a few minutes. She was back in place, making conversation, and again, I couldn’t see even a glimmer of nervousness in her.
I crossed the room, pacing myself so that I would reach the table just as Maximillian walked by it. I had to walk a bit slower than my usual pace, my heartbeats mismatched with my footsteps.
Thump-thump-thump, step, thump-thump, step, thump-thump-thump, step.
I was close enough to the vampire to see his predatory eyes, the whiteness of his hair, his ageless skin.
I tripped and my glass tipped, most of it spilling on the table, some splattering the baroness.
“Oh!” she said, and stood up in mock shock, her boobs thrust as closely to Maximillian Fuchs as she could possibly bring them.
He paused, and I saw the dazed look in his eyes as the enhanced blood scent hit him. Bingo.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” I blubbered.
“It’s quite all right.” She flicked her fingers imperiously. Our eyes locked and I saw the twinkle in her eye, the rush we both felt.
Maximillian’s attention snapped to me. “You clumsy oaf!” he hissed. The blood had brought out the predator in him. The animal. His eyes were brimming with bestial rage, and my heart dipped, suddenly thinking that instead of going for the bait, he would tear my throat wide open.
The baroness laid a hand on his wrist. “It’s quite all right, sir.” She smiled gently. “No harm done.”
He blinked, his attention back to her. “I’m sorry for this incident, madam,” he said. “Please allow me to escort you to a private room where you can clean up.”
“Thank you, sir. I wish all men were as courteous as you.”
He glanced at me, his eyes cold. “You’re fired,” he said. “Get out of here.”
I did my best to look upset as I turned and left. In my ear, Harutaka whispered in excitement at our shared act. We had done it. Sinead was inside.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jonathan accosted me as I tried to leave the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” He limped, and I felt an inkling of guilt, which dissipated once he added in an angry voice, “Get back in there. Now!”
“I was just fired,” I grumbled, letting my voice quiver in indignation.
“What? By who? Only I can fire you!”
“That weird pale guy.”
“Maximillian Fuchs?” He seemed to blanch.
“Yeah.” I paused. “So he can’t fire me? Would you mind talking to him? Because I could really use this job.”
“Um…” Jonathan eyes frantically avoided mine. “I suppose if he fired you he had a good reason. I’m sorry, you have to leave.”
I snorted and left the kitchen, slamming the door behind me.
Once I was out, Harutaka said, “Okay, Lou. Walk down to the gate. There’s a guard looking at you right now. I’ll tell you what to do.”
I began striding toward the front gate. About midway, the path circled a fountain. There were yellow garden lights beaming around it, the water shimmering in the darkness. Just as I passed by it, all the lights around me suddenly died, plunging me into darkness.
“Okay,” Harutaka’s voice said, sharp in my ear. “Go east. Fast!”
I marched quickly down the garden, shrouded in Harutaka’s manufactured darkness.
“Good,” Harutaka said. “Now cut north. You’re not far from Kane and Isabel.”
“What about Sinead?” I began walking back, the large structure’s eastern corner in front of me.
“She’s making her way through the mansion. I presume the vampire is with her, because she’s talking to someone I can’t see.”
I reached the wall and began walking along it, picturing my location on the blueprints. I was near the place where we had agreed to meet, a small nook in which we could all stand without bei
ng seen by the patrolling guards.
“Freeze,” Harutaka said. “Right there. One of the patrols is walking by. I don’t think he can see you if you stand still.”
Praying he was right, I didn’t move a muscle. I heard the footsteps of the guard, saw the flashlight beam accompanying him near the outer wall. If he aimed it at me, he would see me easily. But he just pointed it ahead, to illuminate his way. After a tense minute, he was gone.
“Okay, go,” Harutaka said. “Just a few more yards.”
I almost ran those last steps, feeling giddy and nervous. Then a figure moved out of the shadows, and I stifled a scream.
“It’s me,” Isabel whispered. Behind her, I saw Kane, his back against the mansion wall. The location we had selected really was perfect. It could hardly be seen even if you searched for it. I looked up the wall, gauging the climb. It was completely smooth, with no handholds nearby, no windows or drainpipes to help. A very difficult climb for me. Probably impossible for Kane and Isabel. But this was the best location to do it unseen.
“Where’s the rope and gloves?” I asked.
Kane moved forward, holding the baroness’ handbag. He opened it, and took out three pairs of gloves. I slid mine on, flexing my fingers. Once we were inside, these would keep our fingerprints off everything.
Kane handed me a large coil of nylon rope. It had knots along its length, to make climbing easier.
I twisted my wrist and the silvery chain uncoiled from it, dropping to my gloved palm. I tied a small loop in the rope’s end, and then touched the chain with it. It slithered and coiled around the loop.
“How does it know what you want it to do?” Kane asked, looking mesmerized.
“You tell me, you’re the sorcerer.”
“I’ve never heard of anything like it.”
I took a step back, staring up, estimating the distance to the roof. Then I whirled the rope several times and let go. The chain, attached to the rope, flew upward. It arced over the roof, and landed beyond it, somewhere above. The rope jerked in my hand as the chain located something to latch itself to. Then it was still. I tugged. It held.
