The Stars Afire

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “They’re all vampires.”

  Ben frowned. “No, they’re not.”

  Tenzin gave him an incredulous look. “Yes. They are. Over half of them. And I’m betting the other half have fang marks somewhere on their body.”

  He blinked. “Oh.”

  “The makeup is good. Better than it usually is, but they’re professionals. They know how to look human.”

  “Oh.” Ben thought about the implications. “Oh. Oh… shit.”

  “Yes.” Tenzin settled back in her seat. “Giovanni has far more than one headache this time. This time Richard has people.”

  Ben let out a long breath. “Fucking Richard.”

  “Great title for the play though.”

  He shook his head. “Something about this seems so surreal.”

  “More surreal than your life in general?”

  “Good point.”

  Chapter 4

  Giovanni tapped his foot in the back of the theater. A week after Ben had gone to see Richard’s play, and now he and his wife were seeing it too.

  Ben was right. The boy usually was, though Giovanni didn’t tell him that. His nephew’s ego was healthy enough as it was. But in this case, Ben was definitely right.

  Richard was brilliant.

  If life were different, he would be celebrated around the world. It wasn’t simply looks. He had charisma. Charm. The innate ability to connect with audiences and find the humanity in every moment he performed. When he was speaking, it was nearly impossible to take your eyes off him.

  Beatrice leaned over. “This play is really good.”

  “I know.”

  “What are you going to—”

  “I have no idea.” Giovanni felt his fangs grow long when a man in front of them turned and hushed them.

  Beatrice placed her hand on his knee. “Don’t. You’re not really angry with him.”

  No, he was angry at that blasted vampire.

  Dammit, Richard.

  This time the actor hadn’t only put himself at risk, he’d hired a whole crew of immortals and day people to back him up. Gavin and Chloe’s discreet inquiries throughout the week led Giovanni to believe that this was a highly organized crew who weren’t unknown, but they were discreet. All members of the cast had tacit permission to be in New York but were flying under the radar.

  They were all here as tourists. Residents. Quiet immortals living their lives. Understood in that permission was the very sensible precaution to not stand in front of television recording cameras or up on stages. For immortals trying to live undetected among humans, these were commonsense precautions.

  Precautions this acting troupe was flaunting shamelessly.

  Giovanni could call Cormac O’Brien. He could end this in a moment.

  But…

  None of these vampires were hurting anyone. Gavin told him they were all well-controlled, nonviolent artistic types. None were wealthy, other than Richard, and Gavin suspected Richard was footing the bill for the production, though they were likely recouping their investment, judging by the audience numbers.

  “He had to perform as Saint Germain,” Giovanni muttered. “Of all the people.”

  Beatrice’s smile was barely contained. “You have to admit, it’s clever.”

  “It’s dangerous.”

  “It’s… meta?”

  “I suppose that’s one word for it.”

  “So I’m guessing we’re waiting to meet the cast after the play?”

  “Oh no. I have something far more cozy in mind.”

  The Dancing Bear was one of Gavin’s more amusing pubs. Giovanni’s old friend had started pubs, bars, and clubs all over the world, usually spending a few years to establish the business before he “sold” the place to a holding company unassociated with his face and moved on to the next city.

  Unlike some vampires, Gavin was extremely good at concealing who and what he was.

  If human authorities wanted to look, it would appear that the “Wallace family” had spent several centuries quietly accumulating property and drinking establishments around the world. None of them would ever suspect anything supernatural was involved.

  But this one in Hell’s Kitchen exhibited a more whimsical side of Gavin that Giovanni almost found charming. Theater memorabilia of all kinds decorated the walls, from signed head shots and stunning costumes to carnival posters and burlesque revue masks. It was eclectic. Whimsical. And it was more telling about the state of his old friend’s heart than any outward sign.

  Chloe stood behind the bar, leaning toward Gavin and whispering something that brought a wry smile to the vampire’s face.

  Giovanni glanced at Beatrice, who was unamused. “Don’t be a cynic.”

  “I’ve known that girl since she was fifteen.”

  “She’s not fifteen anymore.”

  “And you think he’s good enough for her?” Beatrice muttered. “Gavin?”

  “I think…” He slid his arm around her waist. “I think it’s none of our business. And Ben is far more protective of Chloe than even you are. So we need to stay out of it.”

  “I just want it noted that I have my reservations about him and I’ll be watching all this closely.” Beatrice looked at the human and vampire couple. “Very closely.”

  Giovanni pulled her close. “Look at this place. Who do you think he built it for? For himself?” He looked around the room. “These are her people. Her friends. He built this place for her.”

  “He built it for the money.”

  “He can make money anywhere. He built this place for Chloe.”

  Though he couldn’t deny the pub was a hive of activity. In Giovanni’s experience, theater bars came with their own built-in entertainment. While a guitarist was playing in the corner, three patrons had stood to sing along with him. Several couples were dancing in the corner of the room, and actors in various levels of undress sat at tables around the room. It was three in the morning in New York, and the city’s performers were finally entertaining themselves.

  “Where are they?” Beatrice slipped her arm into Giovanni’s.

  “In the back room. Gavin says they reserved it for the company a week ago.”

  “And he only just discovered it was Richard?”

  Giovanni shrugged. “He doesn’t take care of special bookings. Chloe’s job, and she had no idea they were immortal.”

  “And even if she did…”

  “Vampires reserve rooms at Gavin’s pubs regularly. His places are always considered neutral ground where they can…”

  “Plot?”

  “Or drink.”

  Drinking that wouldn’t be quite so palatable to the humans in the rest of the bar. Giovanni pushed open the heavy wooden door to the party room, only to be blocked by a behemoth’s chest.

  “Private party.” The accent was cockney, though the man looked Central Asian. Kazakh or Mongolian perhaps? He was part of the stage crew for the play. More importantly, he was a vampire and he was huge.

  Giovanni glanced up. “My name is Giovanni Vecchio, formerly Giovanni Di Spada, son of Andros, son of Kato. Have you heard of me?”

  The man’s pale skin blanched. He nodded.

  “Richard will be expecting me,” Giovanni said quietly. “Allow me to pass.”

  “We don’t want any trouble here,” the man said more softly. “We’re performers. We have permission from O’Brien—”

  “Does O’Brien know what you’re doing?” Giovanni asked. “Does he?”

  From the vampire’s silence, Giovanni knew Cormac had no idea that Richard had formed an all-vampire revue in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen.

  Beatrice spoke up. “We’re here to help. If we can.”

  The guard nodded and stepped back.

  The party behind him was in full swing. Richard was holding court at the end of a long table while vampires and their humans danced around him. Wine and blood wine was flowing. The scent of alcohol, sex, and blood filled the air.

  Giovanni pushed throug
h the crowd and stood quietly at Richard’s shoulder, waiting for the vampire to notice him.

  “My God, did you see them at the end tonight? I was half expecting panties with the roses,” someone shouted.

  “Richard, I swear if you wanted them, half the audience would have followed you home!”

  “But do I want them to?” Richard winked. “Ask me tomorrow night.”

  “And the next,” someone else shouted.

  “And the next!” several more shouted.

  “Is that so?” Giovanni said quietly.

  Richard turned and the smile fell from his face. “Oh fuck.”

  “How does this continue to escape you?” Giovanni railed at him after the other vampires had been sent home. “You cannot do it, Richard. You cannot!”

  The blond vampire sulked in the booth. The bar had closed and only Giovanni and Beatrice, Ben, Tenzin, Gavin, and Chloe remained. Ben and Chloe were behind the bar, quietly trying to polish glasses while the vampires in the room chastised one of their own.

  Gavin said, “You risk us all, Richard.”

  Richard pointed at Gavin. “You were just fine making money off us when you didn’t know who we were.”

  “Exactly. When I didn’t know who you were.” Gavin shook his head. “Do you honestly not see the problem with what you’re doing?”

  “You’re just jealous of the attention we’re getting.”

  “You have got to be joking,” Gavin muttered. “You deal with him,” he said to Giovanni before he walked away and sat at the bar near Chloe.

  Giovanni stood ominously over Richard. “I could have called Cormac and this would have gone very differently,” he said quietly. “I didn’t do that because I don’t want you hurt. I don’t want your people hurt.”

  “They’re good people harming no one.”

  “Do they know about you though? Do they know this is your practice? To make a mark in some place and leave others to clean up after you?”

  “That is your interpretation, not mine. If you’d just let me—”

  “I can’t let you do anything!” Giovanni said. “It’s frankly a miracle I haven’t killed you yet. Not that I haven’t been tempted, Richard.”

  Beatrice made a face. “I’m kind of tempted, to be honest.”

  “I’m not,” Tenzin piped up. “I like you, Richard.”

  “Thank you, Tenzin!”

  “But I wouldn’t blame Giovanni for killing you if he wanted to. You’re a pain in the ass.”

  Richard slumped down in the booth and sulked harder. “All we’re trying to do is entertain you.”

  Giovanni scoffed. “To grab attention, you mean.”

  “No, it’s not about the attention!”

  Giovanni raised a doubtful eyebrow at Richard.

  “Oh fine. It’s about the attention for me. But it’s not all about me.”

  “Of course it is.”

  “No, it’s not! At least, not this time.” Richard motioned toward the door. “Those vampires you sent home, they aren’t mere immortals. They’re artists. Actors. Writers. Costume makers. Makeup artists. Directors. They can’t get work in a human company anymore.” He turned to Gavin. “What would you do if you couldn’t practice your business anymore? If you couldn’t own a single bar? Business is your art.” He looked at Chloe. “What if you couldn’t dance?”

  Chloe frowned. “How do you know I’m a dancer?”

  “It’s obvious, darling.” Richard smiled. “The way you move—”

  “Be very, very careful right now,” Gavin muttered.

  “—is very graceful.” Richard turned to Giovanni. “What if you couldn’t collect books? That’s your art.” He turned to Beatrice. “What would either of you do without your libraries and archives? They are your stage.” He turned to Tenzin. “And what if you couldn’t…?”

  Tenzin smiled. “Kill people and steal things? You’re right. That is my art.”

  Richard clearly didn’t know what to say to that.

  He turned back to Giovanni. “All this company wants is to practice their art. There’s not a violent one among us.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” Gavin said, his accent growing stronger. “Just plenty of idiotic ones.”

  “I have no desire for harm to come to anyone,” Giovanni said. “But you have to stop, Richard. You must. A video can spread around the world faster than Tenzin can fly now. What you’re doing risks everything immortals have worked to hide since time began.”

  “And what then?” Richard said, his blue eyes welling with dramatic tears. “You say you don’t want harm to come to us, but what of the harm of a crushed soul? What about the harm to our hearts when they long to tell the stories of the ages ?” He stood. “What then, Giovanni Vecchio?”

  For a moment, Giovanni was so moved by the agony on the man’s face he forgot why he was chastising him. Then a slow clap from the bar broke the spell.

  “Dude. For real, you’re amazing,” Ben said. “I almost forgot you’re a professional liar.”

  “A professional liar?” Richard was aghast. Or… he was acting aghast.

  It was really impossible to tell.

  “Yeah.” Ben walked from around the bar. “You’re being an idiot, Dick. And don’t pretend you’re doing it for your friends. Who wrote this show?”

  “I don’t know what that has to do with anything, but his name is Joshua and he’s an extremely gifted playwright.”

  “He is,” Tenzin interjected. “I usually find plays very boring. His was not.”

  “But is Joshua starring in the lead?” Ben asked. “Is Joshua—”

  “Joshua does not act and hates to be on stage,” Richard said stiffly. “Geneva, his human, is his link to the world. This show pays for their life.”

  “And pays for yours,” Ben said. “After all, you’re taking most of the profit.”

  “Because I put up all the starting money. There is no guarantee a show will be a hit,” Richard said. “The fact that this one is—”

  “Makes it even more dangerous,” Giovanni said. “Richard, I am somewhat convinced that your intentions this time are… noble”—and self-serving—“but the fact is, the company must stop. The nights you’ve already sold out can be played through, but after that, the show must stop. You must hide your face. You must. This isn’t only for our protection, Richard. It’s for your own.”

  Richard’s expression was plaintive. “But Joshua—”

  “Others can perform his plays,” Gavin said. “You’re not the only actor in the world.”

  “No.” Richard’s voice was defeated. He sat and looked at his feet, bitterness and resignation written all over his face. “I’m just the best.”

  The bar was silent for a long while.

  “He’s right.” Chloe spoke up from behind the back of the room. “I know you’re all right, but he is too. He’s really good, and Richard, I don’t know you, but I thought your play was amazing. I think you’re right. You’re probably the best actor on or off Broadway right now.”

  The actor brightened. “Thank you. If only that meant something in this cruel world.”

  Giovanni did not let his resolve weaken. This wasn’t about Richard. This was about their entire world.

  Chloe continued. “And I know I’m young and I don’t really know much about the vampire world, but isn’t there anything you can do? I mean… Patrons, I guess? Maybe? Is that a thing?”

  Beatrice frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Patrons?” Ben asked.

  Her cheeks flushed rose under her light brown skin. “You know… patrons. Like in the old days when acting troupes and carnival people would travel around. Like in Hamlet. The actors showed up in court and the king gave them space to perform. And paid them. I mean, how many all-vampire acting troupes are there in the world? How many rich vampires are there? It just seems logical to me.”

  Brilliant girl. Giovanni glanced at Richard, who did not look hostile to the idea. He looked at Gavin, who was look
ing at Chloe.

  He loves her.

  Another thought for another time. Giovanni focused on Richard. “It’s an idea, Richard. One that wouldn’t end up with you meeting the sun or turning to dust.”

  “What kind of plays…?” He frowned. “Would anyone actually pay?”

  “If we marketed it right,” Gavin said quietly. “You should be like… Shakespeare. Like the greats. Performing for the highest vampire society. Play to those delusions of royalty and grandeur.”

  “I told you,” Richard said, “it’s not all about me this—”

  “I’m talking about vampires, Dick.” Gavin seemed to like Ben’s nickname. “They like to pretend they’re royalty. I could arrange to show your plays in the most exclusive venues—I have the connections—as long as you’d be willing to make it a traveling company.”

  “And pay you a percentage.”

  Gavin smiled. “That’s the way the world works, Dick.”

  Richard mulled it over.

  “It’s a good idea,” Giovanni said. “Vampires in charge of cities would find the idea very desirable. It’s entertainment for their people, and a way to show off how wealthy they are. If he was agreeable to it, your writer could even customize plays for the audience. Use the local lord’s name for the king, for instance. Use the lady’s name for the heroine. That kind of entertainment is the kind of thing immortals love spending money on.”

  Richard rose to his feet. “I could let Ermengarde and Victor open for me again.”

  “Ermengarde and Victor?” Ben asked.

  “Brilliant gymnasts.” Richard waved a dismissive hand. “You’re too young to know them. But they are too obviously inhuman for human crowds. But for vampires, they could be our opening act. We could travel the world. Dine with the most glittering company.”

  “See?” Giovanni said. “Isn’t that better than a human audience anyway? You’d have the adulation of immortals.”

  Richard ran to Chloe and kissed her hands before Gavin could protest. “You brilliant little human. Would you like to be my lover?”