After Dark

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After Dark Page 2

by Nancy A. Collins

“Now I’m afraid Lilith is going to tell Oliver.”

  “So what if she does?” Sergei shrugged. “It’s not like you’re promised to each other.”

  “It’s just that whenever Ollie feels like he’s been slighted, he goes into these awful tantrums!”

  “I’ve never cared for the guy,” Sergei said bluntly. “No offense, but I’ve never understood why you hang with that jerk.”

  “My mom thinks we make a good-looking couple.” Carmen gestured at her mother, Camille Duivel, who was busy hobnobbing with some of the members of her country club. “She says that makes it easier to get into hot nightclubs and attract prey. Which is true, I guess. But Oliver treats me kind of mean. That’s why I started fooling around with Jules in the first place. Now Jules treats me just like Ollie does. No one ever appreciates me.”

  “Well, I appreciate you,” Sergei said, patting her hand.

  ***

  As Cally watched the stylishly dressed partygoers swirl around the floor to the strains of Die Fledermaus, she found herself thinking of Peter. Because her father was a vampire and his father was a vampire hunter, it had been impossible for them to enjoy the pleasures young lovers take for granted, such as going dancing. Although she was the one who’d insisted on breaking up, she still had strong feelings for him. Indeed, while waltzing with Jules earlier that night, she had even imagined Peter’s face, pale and distraught, pressed against one of the windows that looked out onto the gardens.

  Although she would miss her friends, Cally was beginning to think that perhaps moving to Europe wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Clearly she needed the space in order to get over Peter—and she was certain it would help him get over her, too.

  Being in the same city made it far too tempting to try to reestablish contact. And the more time they spent together, the greater the risk. Not even her father’s status could protect her if it was discovered that she had been intimate with a descendant of Pieter Van Helsing, legendary scourge of the vampire race.

  Cally suddenly became aware that she was rubbing the palm of her left hand against her thigh and forced herself to stop. She had been experiencing an odd, intermittent prickling sensation in her hand throughout the evening.

  It must be nerves, she told herself.

  Hearing a polite cough at her elbow, Cally turned to find Faustus “Lucky” Maledetto standing beside her. Lucky was the older brother of her good friends Bella and Bette. He looked especially yummy tonight in a double-breasted tux with wide lapels. Cally couldn’t deny his charm, but her attraction to Lucky was tempered by the knowledge that he was the son of her father’s sworn enemy, Vincent Maledetto, leader of the Strega crime cartel. Victor had already warned her about being friendly with members of the Maledetto family; although she had recently decided to ignore his wishes when it came to the twins, openly socializing with their brother was another thing entirely.

  “May I have this dance?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be escorting Melinda Mauvais?”

  “Jules de Laval is supposed to be your escort for the evening, isn’t he? But I don’t see him nearby,” Lucky pointed out.

  Cally looked around the crowded ballroom and felt a twinge of jealousy as she spotted her father exchanging pleasantries with yet another group of associates who had come to congratulate him on Lilith’s debut.

  As she watched her father’s friends fawn over the acknowledged heiress to the Todd fortune, Cally thought: What harm could dancing with Lucky Maledetto possibly do? So what if Victor doesn’t approve? I’m leaving New York City for good, aren’t I? In the end, it won’t make a blood drop’s difference. He’ll get over it.

  “Okay.” She smiled, nodding. “But just one dance.”

  “Just one,” he promised, taking her hand in his as they swung out onto the dance floor. Cally was impressed by how smoothly he moved. He really was quite a dancer.

  “Is something on your mind?” Lucky asked as he drew her close. “You seem a little preoccupied.”

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m just going through some complicated stuff in my life right now.”

  “Anything I could help you with?”

  Cally looked up into his eyes, impressed by how self-assured he was. She had no doubt there were few problems Lucky Maledetto could not resolve if he put his mind to it. “It’s sweet of you to ask, but I don’t think so. Besides, you’ve done enough for me already.”

  “You mean scaring off Johnny Muerto and his gang?” Lucky chuckled as they turned. “Scum like Muerto need to be taught their place. And I’m happy to teach it to them.” He cocked his head to one side, studying Cally’s short dark hair and pixielike face. “Do you know what the snowman said to the other snowman?”

  Cally blinked, unsure of what to make of the question. “No…what did he say?”

  “‘Do you smell a carrot?’”

  “Ohhh! That was awful!” Cally groaned, laughing despite herself.

  “See?” Lucky smiled, holding her gently. “I knew I could help.”

  ***

  Boris Orlock, master of King’s Stone, rose from his throne of carved bone and ivory. He tapped his crystal wineglass with a long, curving nail, causing it to chime like a bell. The musicians set aside their instruments, and the babble of voices that filled the ballroom quickly subsided. Everyone turned to face their host. A tall, imposing figure of breathtaking ugliness, Count Orlock stood before his elegantly coiffed and haute-coutured guests like a phantom at the feast.

  “Everyone, please lift your glasses!” he commanded.

  Count Orlock hoisted his glass high, his baritone voice rolling across the room like thunder.

  “I would like to take this time to propose a toast! To the beautiful young women who have debuted here tonight: may your futures be as lovely as yourselves! In the name of the Founders: live long and drink deep!”

  “So say we all!” the crowd replied, their voices melding as one.

  ***

  When Cally brought her goblet to her lips, she heard the sound of breaking glass from somewhere behind her. As she turned in the direction of the sound, thinking perhaps a waiter had dropped a serving tray, the windows facing the garden suddenly shattered inward. What looked like cans of shaving cream flew through the ballroom, landing on the polished floor. As one came to rest near her foot, Cally realized that’s not what they were.

  They were tear-gas canisters.

  “Get back!” Lucky yelled, pushing Cally behind him as a dense, grayish cloud erupted into the air. “Cover your mouth!”

  Within seconds the ballroom became a scene of mass chaos, the music and laughter replaced by screams. Cally was buffeted back and forth as the guests crashed into one another trying to escape the rapidly spreading fumes. Her eyes swimming with tears, she reached out, groping blindly through the wall of smoke.

  “Lucky! Where are you?”

  “I’m here! Don’t worry—I’ve got you!” he shouted, his strong hands closing around her own.

  Suddenly the crowd surrounding her began to surge in the opposite direction. Cally tried to move toward Lucky, only to be wrenched from his grasp. Barely able to see and breathe, she was borne away by a living tide. Somewhere in the madness, she could hear Baron Metzger calling her name, but she could not see him, much less tell which direction his voice was coming from.

  ***

  At first Lilith thought the explosions and gouts of smoke were some kind of pyrotechnic display Count Orlock had arranged for the amusement of his guests. But when her eyes started burning and her mascara began to run, she realized the fireworks had nothing to do with the Grand Ball.

  “Daddy—what’s going on?” she wailed.

  Victor Todd took a monogrammed silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his tuxedo and covered his nose and mouth. “We’re under attack, princess!”

  “Van Helsings? Here? They must be mad!” Irina coughed.

  “Get Lilith out of here now,” Victor said, pushing her toward her mother.


  “You heard your father,” Irina said, grabbing her daughter’s arm. “We’ve got to get out of this place!”

  “Where’s Jules?” Lilith looked around, but her eyes were stinging too much from the acrid smoke for her to see more than a few feet in any direction.

  “The de Lavals can take care of themselves!” Irina snapped. “We’ve got to escape!”

  “Don’t tell me what to do!” Lilith said, pulling away from her mother.

  “Lilith! Come back here!”

  Ignoring her mother, Lilith pushed her way through the crowd. After only a few steps she quickly found herself trapped, unable to move forward or go back. As the choking fumes burned her eyes and mouth, she was overwhelmed by the urgent need to free herself from the crushing press.

  “Get out of my way, damn you! I’ve got to get out!” she screamed, kicking and clawing at those closest to her. Those on the receiving end of Lilith’s slashing nails began doing the same to those ahead of them, triggering a chain reaction.

  There was a sound of smashing glass and splintering wood, immediately followed by the smell of sea air from the nearby Atlantic as the panicked partygoers pushed their way through the French doors, spilling out onto the garden terrace like hornets from a burning hive.

  ***

  Finally out of the tear gas, Cally staggered across the stone terrace toward the wide, curving stairs that led to the gardens below.

  “Fire!”

  Cally looked up just in time to see dozens of crossbow arrows flying toward the terrace. She ducked, putting a marble replica of the Venus de Milo between her and the deadly rain. As she watched from her hiding place, she saw one of the other guests jump atop the balustrade’s railing, instantly shapeshifting into his winged form.

  With a beat of his eight-foot wings, the transformed vampire shot up into the night sky in a desperate attempt to escape the Van Helsings’ crossbows before they could reload. At first it looked like he had succeeded, but then a shadow soared from the roofline of the building.

  With just a few beats of its own leathery wings, the gargoyle easily overtook the fleeing vampire, who screamed as the beast’s slashing talons destroyed his right wing. Unable to maintain balance, the vampire spun out of control and crashed a hundred feet down into the hedges that ringed the gardens.

  Cally’s guts tightened as she listened to the gargoyle shriek in triumph. Things had just gotten a whole lot worse: both the Van Helsings and their pet were out for blood.

  ***

  Lilith pushed her way out onto the terrace, literally climbing over her fellow guests to escape the smoke-filled confines of the ballroom. With her gown in tatters and black tears streaking her face, she no longer looked like the vampire debutante who had held every eye in the room.

  “Jules! Mom! Daddy! Where are you?” she cried out, hoping to spot a familiar face in the surrounding crowd.

  “Lilith! Look out!”

  Lilith turned to find the last person in the world she wanted to see, Cally Monture, cowering behind a statue, pointing at something in the sky. She heard the sound of wings—big wings—coming up from behind her. Lilith spun around to see something that looked like a cross between a pit bull and a crocodile bearing down on her, talons outstretched. She screamed as the gargoyle snatched her up in its claws and bore her into the night sky.

  “Let go!” Lilith shrieked, struggling to free herself from the gargoyle’s viselike grip. “Help! Help me!”

  In response to her cry, something large and gray landed on the gargoyle’s back and yanked on the loop of heavy chain encircling the beast’s throat, turning the collar into a makeshift garrote.

  Lilith thought she was being rescued by her father or Jules in winged form, but when she got a good look at the hideous creature riding the gargoyle’s back, she wasn’t sure if it had come to rescue her or was simply fighting for its share of the spoils.

  The gargoyle snarled as it tried to unseat its unwanted passenger, but the mystery flier proved unshakable, hanging on to the chain around the beast’s neck like a rodeo rider atop a raging bull. Roaring in pain and anger, the gargoyle let go of Lilith, sending her plummeting to the earth fifty feet below.

  As the ground zoomed up to meet her, Lilith realized she had neither the time nor the skill to shapeshift into her winged form quickly enough to avoid being hurt. Even though a fall from such a height wouldn’t kill a vampire, it would hurt a whole lot. And if she smashed her skull hard enough to damage her brain, the injuries could very well prove permanent, even with her near-instantaneous regenerative ability. All she could do was close her eyes and scream.

  Just as she was about to smash into the marble paving stones of the terrace, a figure darted forward and caught her in its outstretched arms. Lilith spread the fingers covering her face to peep out at her savior, expecting to see Jules’s handsome face.

  “Exo?” Lilith gasped in amazement.

  Xander Orlock, son of Count Boris Orlock, flashed a relieved smile as he put her back on her feet. He turned and shouted to his cousin, who was hurrying in their direction.

  “Make sure Lilith gets to safety!”

  “Sure thing, cuz!” Jules said, taking Lilith by the arm.

  “What about you?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at Xander.

  He pointed to where the gargoyle and the mystery flier fought in midair like a pair of sparring hawks. “I’m going to help Klaus take care of business.” With that, Xander transformed into his winged form and, with a single beat of his wings, flew up to join the battle raging overhead.

  “Come on, Lili—you heard Exo,” Jules said, dragging her back to the relative safety of the ballroom. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

  “Who’s Klaus?” Lilith asked as she watched Xander’s hell-bat form strike the gargoyle from the other direction.

  “That is.” Jules pointed to the hideous creature battling the gargoyle. “He’s Xander’s older brother.”

  ***

  Cally watched in mute shock as Lilith was snatched up by the marauding gargoyle. She wasn’t sure what she was more surprised by: a real, live gargoyle on the wing or the fact that her demi-sister’s makeup and hair looked like shit.

  As something swooped down from atop the north tower and tackled the gargoyle in midair, Cally was ready to leap out and block her sister’s fall. Although she and Lilith had come close to killing each other on several occasions, Cally could not stand by and simply watch her get hurt, possibly even die.

  After all, they shared blood, even if it was bad.

  Before she could act, someone grabbed her by the arm and yanked her backward. A Van Helsing, his face covered by a gas mask, loomed over her. She had been so distracted by Lilith and the gargoyle that she hadn’t noticed him sneaking up the garden stairs behind her.

  She jerked her arm free and grabbed the vampire hunter by the neck, lifting him off the ground. His jackbooted feet kicked at the air as he clawed at the fingers tightening around his throat.

  “Cally! It’s me!” a muffled voice shouted from inside the gas mask.

  “Peter?” Cally gasped, instantly relinquishing her hold. “Then I wasn’t hallucinating!” she said as he peeled the gas mask away from his face. “You really were standing at the window! What is going on? Has your father lost his mind? Why is he taking on the Old Bloods like this?”

  A look of anguish filled Peter Van Helsing’s dark brown eyes. “I’m sorry, Cally—you have to believe that I never meant for things to get this out of hand!”

  Cally wasn’t sure what he meant, but she definitely didn’t like the sound of it. “Peter, what did you do?”

  “I told my father you were leaving for Europe after the Grand Ball,” he admitted, avoiding her eyes. “He’s determined to either capture you or kill you before you can leave the country.”

  Cally’s confusion was quickly replaced by a slowly sinking dread. “But how would he even know where the ball was being held? I never told you that!”

  “Y
ou dropped an RSVP envelope in the graveyard that night you broke up with me. It had Orlock’s name and address written on it. I gave it to him.”

  Cally, who had never been ill a day in her life, suddenly felt the need to throw up. “You mean this is all because of me?” she asked, gesturing to the carnage that surrounded them.

  “I didn’t want you to go away!” Peter said, grasping her hand. “I love you, Cally! I need you! I thought if my father captured you, then you’d have no choice but to stay with me! You have to understand!” he pleaded, searching her face for signs of forgiveness. “The moment I realized how dangerous my father’s plan was, I tried to stop it. I called your cell phone to tell you to stay away, but it was too late—your mother said you were already gone….”

  “My mother? What about my mother?” Cally asked sharply, pulling away.

  “I talked to her, that’s all—she wasn’t making much sense—I tried to warn her. I told her to escape.”

  “Peter, why would my mother need to escape?”

  Peter spilled out his guilt. “They know where you live, Cally—they had someone following Todd and he led them right to you—I’m sorry, so sorry.”

  “Peter, what happened to my mother?” Cally’s voice had become as hard and cold as steel.

  “That doesn’t matter right now; all that matters is getting you to safety!” Peter grabbed her. “I have to smuggle you out of here before my father’s people get their hands on you.”

  “You’re not taking me anywhere!” she said angrily as she wrenched herself free. “I’m not leaving my father and friends behind!”

  “Please, Cally! You’ve got to trust me!”

  Cally’s eyes filled with tears. “Trust you? I did trust you—and this is what it got me! How could you betray me this way, Peter? How could you?”

  Unable to stand being near the man she loved any longer, Cally turned and ran into the open, unmindful of the crossbow arrows whizzing through the air.

 

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