After Dark

by Nancy A. Collins

  “We must have close to a hundred out there!” Sister Midnight whispered.

  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Cally asked uncertainly.

  “It’s a very good thing, my dear! It’s a record for this store! And to have this kind of turnout for a new designer is unheard of. Some of my customers have come from as far as Paris!”

  Cally shook her head in disbelief. Everything was happening so quickly. If someone had told her three months ago that she would be having her very first fashion show in the most prestigious vampires-only boutique in the city, she would have called them crazy. But here she was, doing just that. She only wished her mother and grandmother could be sharing it with her. Then again, they probably wouldn’t have been allowed to enter the building.

  “Which one of them is Lady Elysia?” Lilith asked. She had left her place in the lineup to sneak a peek at the audience.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Lilith!” Sister Midnight said, feigning regret. “But Lady Elysia can’t make it tonight. She called earlier to inform me that something had come up.”

  “What do you mean, she’s not here?” Lilith said angrily. “You promised she would be here!”

  “I said no such thing,” Sister Midnight replied curtly. “However, if you wish to back out of the show, you’re free to do so. Otherwise, get back in line until I call your name.”

  Lilith glanced out at the waiting crowd. As much as she wanted to meet Lady Elysia, that wasn’t her only reason for walking the runway. Plain and simple, she needed a fix. She had gotten a taste of what it was like to be a model with Kristof, and she was hungry for more. Grudgingly, she rejoined the lineup.

  “Lock and load, ladies!” Sister Midnight grinned. “It’s showtime!”

  ***

  The volume on the techno music blaring from the speakers dropped down to a subsonic throb as the curtains parted and Sister Midnight, dressed in a narrow gold lamé jacket and a pair of black skinny jeans, strode out onto the stage. There was a burst of applause from the audience, which Sister Midnight paused to accept, waving and blowing kisses to her friends. Once the clapping died down, she took her place behind the podium at the foot of the presentation stage and looked out at the assembled spectators.

  “Good evening, my friends!” she said, opening her arms wide to embrace the entire room. “And welcome to my humble shop! It is my privilege to introduce to you tonight the maiden collection of a uniquely talented young woman—one already known to most of you, if for a very different reason. I will not say any more about Cally Monture, for I believe the clothes you are about to see speak for themselves. Now, without further ado—ladies and gentlemen, meine Damen und Herren, mesdames et monsieurs—I give you the future of fashion!”

  The music swelled as Lilith stepped out from backstage and strode toward the catwalk. The moment she set foot on the runway, her fellow students from Bathory jumped to their feet and began applauding and cheering.

  Lilith looked out at the hungry, eager faces in the crowd and felt the emptiness within her begin to fill. As the audience focused its attention on her, it didn’t see the girl whose mother refused to love her and whose father alternately indulged and ignored her. Instead, it saw a shining, golden girl, a vamp born into immense wealth and privilege who commanded the envy and respect of everyone around her. And when all eyes were focused on her, she truly did feel that she really was the icon everyone thought she was. This fleeting glory was infinitely better than the cheap thrills she used to get from peeking at herself in a compact mirror.

  As she made her turn at the end of the runway, Lilith felt a tiny spike of fear. Her brief moment in the spotlight was about to be over. She wanted, no, needed those eyes trained on her, alternately feeding off her and willing her into existence. She felt that if it didn’t continue, she would start collapsing on herself, dwindling away like the Wicked Witch of the West doused with a bucket of water.

  As she headed back up the runway, she could see the next model already headed down the catwalk. Lilith was sorely tempted to trip her as they passed each other but held back, knowing it would be a bad move.

  “Quick! Get her out of that outfit and into the gown!” Sister Midnight barked.

  One of the dressers hurried forward and took Lilith back to the clothing rack where the white chiffon gown awaited her arrival. Lilith allowed herself to be undressed like a giant doll, just like she used to let Esmeralda clothe and groom her when she was a little girl. The attention focused on her by the dresser wasn’t nearly as potent as that from the audience, but it would do until she could plug into the real thing yet again.

  The second model had finished her walk and was already backstage, and the third girl—a statuesque brunette dressed in a sexy herringbone corset worn with a narrow tweed skirt—was headed for the runway. The fourth model in line, nervously awaiting her cue from Sister Midnight, was Melinda, who was positively stunning. Careful to make sure no one was looking, Lilith stealthily placed her Louboutin on the train of her ex-friend’s dress.

  “Melinda! Evangeline is making her turn!” Sister Midnight announced. “Get ready to step out!”

  Melinda moved forward, only to freeze upon hearing the sound of ripping fabric.

  “Oops! I’m so sorry, Melly!” Lilith said with an exaggerated look of dismay on her face. “I didn’t realize I was standing on your gown!”

  “My ass, you didn’t!” Melinda growled.

  “Never mind whose fault it is!” Sister Midnight barked. “Nadja—you’re next!” she said, pointing at the model standing behind Melinda. “Someone get some stitches on that gown!”

  “That’s okay, I’ll handle it,” Cally said, taking the needle and thread from Melinda’s dresser.

  “I knew that bitch was going to pull some kind of shit tonight!” Melinda fumed under her breath.

  “Hold still, Melly—I don’t have time to repair this properly,” Cally said as she knelt beside her. “I’ll have to baste it and just hope it doesn’t show on the runway. As for Lilith: forget her.”

  “I’m trying.” Melinda sniffed. “Really trying.”

  “There you go!” Cally said, standing back up. “It’s not perfect, but it should do until I can fix it later.”

  “Thanks!” Melinda said, kissing the air beside Cally’s cheek. “You’re a lifesaver—again!”

  “Okay, Melinda—you’re next!” Sister Midnight said.

  Cally hurried back so she could watch the show and was pleased to hear the chorus of “oohs” and “aahs” that arose from the audience as Melinda appeared on the runway. No one noticed the last-minute repair job, and the dress got the biggest applause of the evening so far.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Lilith, who was awaiting her final turn on the catwalk. She wished things could be different between them, but right now if the worst Lilith did was inflict minor wardrobe malfunctions on her fellow models, then Cally took it as a positive sign. Maybe, just maybe, her sister was finally starting to mellow out—if such a thing were possible.

  “Oooooh! That was so incredible!” Melinda exclaimed as she returned backstage. “Thank you for making that possible!” she said, throwing her arms around Cally’s neck.

  “You’re welcome.” Cally laughed. “And you were amazing, Melly! I mean it!”

  “Lilith—get ready to take your mark!”

  “How do I look?” Lilith whispered to Sister Midnight.

  “Like the goddess you are,” she replied. “Now get out there and walk it like you own it!”

  There was a collective gasp of awe from the crowd as Lilith stepped out onto the runway. The applause that arose to greet her as she made her way down the catwalk was almost deafening. The thrill Lilith had gotten the first time was nothing compared to what she was experiencing now. Her heart surged in her chest as if spliced into a high-voltage wire.

  Lilith smiled as she turned and headed back to join the other models in a victory lap around the catwalk. Sharing the stage with the other ten models wasn’t n
early as satisfying as walking it alone, but it still felt pretty damn good.

  Backstage, Sister Midnight turned to Cally and took her by the hand. “It’s time for you to meet your public, my dear.”

  “Not yet—I’m not ready!” Cally protested, hanging back. “I look horrible!”

  “Nonsense! You look fabulous!” Sister Midnight insisted as she dragged Cally out onto the stage. “See? What did I tell you?” Sister Midnight shouted as the cream of Old Blood society got to their feet, delivering a standing ovation so loud it made the rafters shake. “They love you, darling!”

  “Cal-lee! Cal-lee! Cal-lee!”

  Not that long ago, she had been dismissed as a lowly New Blood unworthy of notice, then reviled as a half-human mongrel. Now the exact same people who made every school night living torture were shouting her name and hailing her as a genius. After a lifetime spent pretending she was something she was not, it felt good to finally be accepted for what she was, very good indeed. In fact, the last time she felt this kind of acceptance was from Peter.

  The thought of her ex-boyfriend brought with it a melancholy, which she quickly tried to banish. This was not the place or time to feel sad. What was in the past could not be changed. What was done could not be undone, and there was no point in grieving forever—just like Baron Metzger had said. Life was too long for sorrow.

  There was a flickering at the corner of her eye, and suddenly Lucky Maledetto was at the front of the crowd, seeming to pop into existence from nowhere, handing her a gigantic bouquet of exotic flowers.

  The models headed offstage so they could change back into their street clothes. As she was led away, Lilith paused to shoot a venomous glare in Cally’s direction.

  Enjoy it while it lasts, sister, she thought. Because there’s not enough spotlight for both of us.

  CHAPTER 13

  As Cally stepped down off the stage, Lucky moved toward her, acting as an informal bodyguard as the crowd of well-wishers surged forward. Even though she didn’t know most of those in attendance, that didn’t keep them from wanting to shake her hand as if they did.

  Bella Maledetto pushed past her older brother to throw her arms around Cally’s neck. “Everything was so beautiful! You really are talented, just like Sister Midnight said! I’m so proud to be your friend, Cally!”

  “Hey, I was her friend first!” protested her sister, Bette.

  “Girls! Please!” their mother said sharply, stepping in between the twins. With her classic black silk Dior dress and raven-dark hair pulled into an elegant updo, Mrs. Maledetto looked like a classical Roman statue brought to life. She addressed Lucky sharply. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to introduce me to your friend, Faustus?”

  “Of course, Mama!” Lucky said, giving Cally a sly grin. “Cally, this is my—our—mother, Skylla Lamia-Maledetto.”

  “It’s good to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”

  “My daughters talk of you quite fondly,” Mrs. Maledetto said, eyeing Cally as if she were a questionable cut of meat in the butcher’s case. “Indeed, all my children seem to hold you in high regard, as does my husband.”

  “I am honored they feel that way about me.”

  “As well you should,” Mrs. Maledetto replied stiffly. “Our family is not free with our friendships.”

  “Make way!” Baron Metzger called out as he pushed to the front of the line. “Proud father coming through!”

  On hearing his voice, Mrs. Maledetto and her brood discreetly faded into the crowd. Cally looked around, but Lucky seemed to have disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. Still, she was relieved the Baron hadn’t seen them together.

  “Congratulations, my dear! It’s a truly marvelous collection!” Metzger said warmly. “By the way—I have someone here who would love to speak with you.”

  Metzger stepped aside to make way for the man Cally had seen with him before the show started. The stranger looked to be in his early forties, with rust-colored hair and a sharp chin that gave him a foxlike appearance.

  “You are the designer?” Metzger’s friend spoke with a noticeable French accent.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “My name is Nazaire d’Ombres,” he said, offering his hand in greeting. “I am very pleased to meet you, mademoiselle.”

  “You’re the Nazaire?” Cally gasped in surprise.

  “Mais oui,” he said with an impish grin. “Your papa, the Baron, was kind enough to fax me the sketches you made….”

  “Oh, monsieur, I’m so embarrassed!” Cally said. “I was just fooling around! I hope you didn’t think I was being disrespectful.”

  “Far from it, ma chérie!” He chuckled. “In truth, I was most intrigued. I have been in the fashion business a very long time. I have had to fake my own death and reinherit my company twice! One thing I have learned over the decades is how to recognize talent. You, ma jolie, are very talented indeed. And I do not say this simply because your father represents the majority stockholder in my business!

  “You possess what it takes to become a great designer. I know because I have worked with them all—Pierre, Giorgio, Coco, Christian, Karl, Gianni. All of them burned with the same fire when they were young, the fire I see in you.

  “I would like to make you a little offer, m’selle. Once you graduate from your school, should you still be interested in pursuing a career in fashion, you are more than welcome to come work pour moi. It has been some time since Maison d’Ombres last had an infusion of ‘fresh blood,’ if you will. My label is in need of a younger aesthetic—one you are capable of providing.”

  Cally’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “I—I’m terribly flattered, Monsieur d’Ombres.”

  “Please! Call me Nazaire!” he said, kissing her hand. “I do not stand on formality with those I consider my friends.”

  “Monsieur…I mean, Nazaire, this is an incredibly generous offer you’ve made. I really don’t know what to say. I certainly do not consider myself worthy….”

  “Nonsense!” he said, dismissing her protests with a wave of his hand. “There’s no room for modesty in fashion—false or otherwise! You need not give me an answer now. You are young, and our lives are long. Five months…five years, they are the same to us, n’est-ce pas?”

  ***

  The fashion show was long over, as well as the reception that followed it. Cally sighed in relief as her last fan finally filed out the door of the boutique. It had never occurred to her how exhausting being famous really was.

  “You did extremely well for someone who was a complete unknown a week or so ago,” Sister Midnight said with a pleased look on her face. “I’m interested in buying the patterns from you. The line will still bear your name, but my seamstresses will be the ones to put everything together. What do you say?”

  “I say you have a deal.”

  “Excellent! I’ll have my attorney draw up the necessary paperwork and drop it off at the Plaza for you to sign. Why don’t we go up to my office and celebrate with a glass of something good? I have an O neg mixed with Dom Pérignon champagne…. ”

  “You start without me, Sis,” Cally called over her shoulder as she ducked backstage. “I’ll join you as soon as I double-check to make sure the collection is properly put away.”

  The staging area that had been a riot of activity a few hours before was now eerily silent. The dressers and models were gone, leaving only racks of clothes and discarded shoes behind as evidence of their existence. As she looked around, she was startled to see the silhouette of a man on the other side of the curtains. She gasped in alarm, her heart leaping into high gear, thinking Peter had succeeded in tracking her down and was about to make her pay for killing his father.

  “Who’s there?” she called out.

  “It’s just me—your biggest fan,” Lucky said, pushing aside the curtain.

  “For a moment I thought you were someone else.” Cally sighed in relief. Even though she knew she wasn’t in any danger, her heart continued to beat fast.

  “Som
eone you don’t want to see, I take it?”

  “Never again, if I can help it.”

  “I wanted to wait until the others left before I gave you this,” Lucky explained, fishing a gold necklace from his coat pocket. “I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. Or the right one.”

  “Oh, Lucky!” Cally gasped. “You really shouldn’t have! It’s beautiful!”

  “No, it’s not,” he said as he helped to fasten it around her neck. “But it will be in a second. Turn around and let me see how you look in it.” Cally did as he asked, pirouetting around to face him. Lucky smiled and nodded. “Now it’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Lucky—I really don’t know what else to say! No one has ever given me a present this nice before.”

  “That’ll be changing soon—I’ll see to that personally,” Lucky promised.

  “Where were you keeping yourself during the show? I didn’t see you in the audience before it started. Then suddenly—poof! You’re right in front of me!”

  “I was around the whole time—I was keeping an eye on Mom and the twins. Most people don’t see me unless I want them to.” Lucky lowered his head and placed the tips of his ring and middle fingers to his brow. The air rippled, like the surface of a pond disturbed by a passing wind, as darkness gathered about Lucky, shrouding him until he resembled a flitting shadow, like those glimpsed out of the corner of the eye.

  “Where did you go?” Cally giggled, looking around nervously. “Lucky—?”

  Suddenly a pair of strong arms grabbed her from behind around the waist, lifting her off her feet as she was swung around in a circle.