“Come, my dear,” Baron Metzger said. “We must pay our respects to King’s Stone’s lord and lady. Ah! There they are!” He raised a hand in greeting. “Boris!”
On hearing his name, the master of King’s Stone turned to greet his old friend.
Cally had heard of Orlocks since she was a kid—she had even met one, the count’s own son, Xander—but nothing had prepared her for this.
Standing nearly seven feet tall despite the hump in his back, Count Boris Orlock—heir to the bloodright of Urlok the Terrible, greatest of all the Founders—looked like a ghastly amalgamation of skull, bat, and spider. He was cadaverously thin, with a completely hairless head and fanged front teeth that stuck out of his oddly sensuous mouth like tiny knitting needles. His ears were unnaturally large and pointed, like those of a bat, with clumps of wiry hair growing out of them like weeds. He held his long, spindly arms tucked in close to his body and compulsively dry-washed his hands, the fingers of which were as long and gnarled as the legs of a king crab. Yet despite his frightful appearance, the count possessed an oddly dignified hideousness that is only found in those as powerful as they are ugly. He commanded respect as well as repugnance from those around him.
“Karl! How good to see you, old friend!” Count Orlock smiled, looking like a hairless rat baring its fangs as he warmly clasped his guest’s hand in his own.
“It is equally good to see you, dear Boris! And Countess—you are as lovely as ever.”
Where her husband was the very definition of the word nightmare, Countess Juliana Orlock was a dream made flesh. With her perfect skin, sapphire-blue eyes, long platinum hair, and glamorous, shimmering sequined one-shoulder gown, she looked like she should be on her way to a Hollywood premiere, not a vampire ball.
“Ah, Baron—still the silver-tongued devil, I see,” she said fondly.
“Come now, Juliana.” Count Orlock smiled, gently stroking one of his outlandishly long fingers against his wife’s flawless cheek. “You cannot fault a man for simply stating a fact.”
“Dearest, you’re making me blush,” the countess said with a coy smile.
“Your Illustriousness, I would like to introduce you to my daughter, Miss Cally Monture.”
Count Orlock smiled, taking Cally’s hand in his monstrous one. To her surprise, his touch was incredibly delicate. “I was not aware you had a daughter, Karl.”
“Her mother was one of my New Blood concubines,” Baron Metzger explained. “I have chosen to acknowledge Cally now that my dear wife is no longer with us.”
“Ah!” Count Orlock said with knowing nod. “She is exquisite, Karl.”
“You’re too kind, Count,” Cally said. She curtsied.
“Enough chitchatting with old fossils such as myself!” Count Orlock laughed. “It’s Rauhnacht! Tonight is for the young! I’ll have one of my pages take you upstairs to where the other debutantes are. It won’t be long before the ceremony begins.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The room where the debutantes waited for their presentation at the Grand Ball was on the third floor of the main section of King’s Stone. As she was escorted down the gloomy corridor, Cally noticed that the sconces that lined them were carved to resemble forearms, the gnarled hands holding lit candles. The servant stopped and opened a diamond-paneled oak door, revealing an opulently appointed salon decorated in the Louis XIV style. As she scanned the room for her friends, Cally recognized many of the girls from Bathory—but there were several she had never seen before, like the girl in the black sari-style Versace gown and the dark-haired girl in the Rei Kawakubo original.
The Maledetto twins and Melinda were clustered in a corner of the salon, as far away from Lilith’s clique as possible. Bella and Bette sat facing each other on an antique figure-eight love seat, making last-minute adjustments to their hair and makeup. For the first time since she’d known them, the twins were wearing their hair unbound and were dressed differently. Melinda sat in a nearby chair, swapping out a pair of Manolo platform slingbacks in favor of a pair of Jimmy Choo strappies.
Cally automatically started across the room toward the other girls, only to stop halfway. As much as she wanted to be with her friends on her last night in New York, she could not go against her father’s wishes.
An older woman, dressed in a strapless evening gown so tight it seemed to be pushing her breasts into her face, suddenly appeared in front of Cally. “You’re late! The presentation ceremony is less than an hour away. Which one are you?” she asked, peering around her bust at the new arrival.
“Cally Monture.”
The older woman consulted the PDA she held in one hand, stabbing at the display with her stylus. “Monture…Monture…Ah! Here you are. My name is Pandora Grume; I have been assigned to make sure everyone and everything runs on time tonight.”
“What is she doing here?” Lilith Todd, dressed in a black Marchesa satin chiffon sculpted evening gown, stood glaring at Cally, her hands planted firmly on her hips as she tapped a Prada-shod foot in anger. “Since when does the Presentation Committee extend invitations to fatherless bastards?”
The entire room fell silent and everyone, including Melinda and the twins, turned to stare at Cally.
“I have a father,” Cally replied, trying to remain calm.
“Yeah, but you don’t even know his name!” Carmen said, getting up from a nearby sofa. “Lilith told me so!”
“That’s not true anymore,” Cally said, addressing Carmen while keeping an eye on Lilith. “My father has claimed me as his legal daughter.”
On hearing this, Lilith flinched and fell silent. Carmen, however, continued to press her verbal attack. “Oh, yeah? Who is he, then?”
“Baron Metzger.”
“Metzger?” Lilith said in a tight voice, her eyes narrowing into suspicious slits.
“May I have your attention?” Madame Grume said, her voice cutting right through the giggly chatter that filled the room. “It’s time for the debutantes to claim their bouquets.” She stepped aside as an Orlock family footman entered, pushing a large serving cart containing a baker’s dozen of bouquets.
Although the bouquets were all fashioned from roses, they were far from identical. Each was unique and had a card affixed to it, identifying which girl it was for and the escort it was from.
Lilith stepped forward, claiming her place at the head of the line. She was pleasantly surprised to discover that her bouquet was the nicest one on the cart: six bright red Passion roses decorated with delicate stems of twisted willow and bound in black satin. Exo might be a spod and a bat boy, but at least he had great taste. As she picked up her bouquet, she spotted Cally’s name written on a card attached to a bunch of velvety dark-red Black Magic roses, their stems bound in antique lace.
She wondered what kind of pathetic loser would agree to be the escort of a half-blood bastard like Monture. Deciding it would be good for a chuckle, she flipped the card over—only to stare, dumbstruck, at the name on the other side.
It had to be a mistake. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t. He knew how she felt about Cally! Lilith’s heart began to vibrate in her chest until she feared it would tear itself loose.
“Is something wrong, Lili?” Carmen asked. “Your hands are shaking.”
Lilith grabbed her bouquet and ran out of the room, leaving Carmen to stare after her, perplexed. The redhead claimed her own bouquet—a half dozen deep crimson roses decorated with Swarovski crystals—and hurried after her friend.
Carmen found Lilith in the powder room across the hall from the salon. She was standing in front of the sink, running the hot water until steam rose from the basin. As Carmen watched, Lilith thrust her hands under the scalding torrent, hissing through her teeth as her skin turned bright red and blisters rose across her palms.
“What are you doing?” Carmen gasped.
“I’m not going to cry,” Lilith said between gritted teeth as she stepped away from the sink. “I refuse to ruin my makeup. Not in front of her.”
“What are you talking about?” Carmen frowned.
“It’s about Jules.”
“What about him?” Carmen asked uneasily, wondering if rumors had finally reached Lilith’s ears.
“He’s Cally’s escort!” Lilith spat.
Carmen’s relief that her affair with Jules had not been discovered was engulfed by jealousy of her own, which she quickly masked as outrage on Lilith’s behalf. “That bitch! How dare she! I’m going to give her a piece of my mind!” As she stormed out of the powder room and back into the salon, her hands clenched into angry fists, Carmen remembered the look on Jules’s face the night he’d told her he didn’t want to be her escort.
That son of a bitch! she thought. He turns me down but doesn’t have any problem saying yes to some New Blood slut!
Cally was sitting alone on a love seat when Carmen Duivel stomped across the room, her emerald-green eyes ablaze with anger.
“That was a really shitty thing to do to Lilith!” Carmen said hotly.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cally replied.
“Don’t hand me that!” Carmen nearly shouted. “You know exactly what I mean. You’re trying to steal Jules away from Lilith!”
“Are you nuts?” Cally eyed Carmen like she would a street crazy ranting on the subway platform. “He’s merely acting as my escort, nothing else. I asked him and he said yes. Besides, I’m not the one fucking him,” she said pointedly.
Carmen’s jealous anger was abruptly replaced by a tight knot in her belly. “What do you mean by that?”
“What do you think I mean?” Cally snapped. “I have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not the one claiming to be Lilith’s friend.”
Carmen glanced about uneasily. Every eye and ear in the room was now trained on her. Suddenly using Lilith as an excuse to confront Cally about Jules didn’t seem like such a good idea.
Unable to come up with a catty remark that wouldn’t get her in even deeper trouble, Carmen simply walked off. As she did, she saw Lilith standing in the doorway of the salon, watching her with cold, hard eyes.
“Lilith, it’s not what it sounds like,” Carmen assured her.
Lilith said nothing as she stepped around the redhead. As Carmen moved to follow her, Lilith turned around and fixed her with a hard glare.
“No.”
“But—”
“I said no.” Lilith stalked across the room to join Lula and Armida. Carmen couldn’t process the speed with which she had just fallen from grace. On what was supposed to be her official introduction to Old Blood society, Carmen’s social life had just been cut off, as cleanly and completely as a diseased limb severed by a surgeon.
As Carmen wandered about, forlornly trying to find somewhere to sit that was safely out of Lilith’s range, the salon doors flew open and Madame Grume reentered the room in front of yet another serving cart, this one containing a cut-crystal punch bowl and thirteen matching cups. The dark red liquid in the bowl sloshed gently back and forth as the servant wheeled the cart into the middle of the room.
“You’re in for a real treat! Count Orlock has graciously selected something very special from his private cellars for you young ladies to enjoy,” Madame Grume announced. “It’s HH phenotype, the fabled Bombay blood—the rarest in the world!”
The undead servant ladled the blood into the dainty crystal cups carefully so as not to waste a single drop of the precious vintage. Then he handed them out one by one to the assembled girls.
“Praise to the Founders,” Madame Grume intoned.
“To the Founders,” the girls said in unison, raising their drinks in a toast.
Cally sipped the blood, which was far more impressive than anything she’d ever tasted in her life. So this was how the mega-rich Old Bloods lived.
She was so busy enjoying her drink, she hadn’t noticed that Lilith was standing near her.
“Watch your elbow!” Lilith snapped, jostling Cally’s arm.
There was a collective gasp as the drink spilled from the punch cup onto the skirt of Cally’s dress. The thick blood left an oil slick–style stain on the dark fabric.
“My dress!” Cally wailed.
“It’s not my fault you got in my way!”
The sight of Lilith’s sneering face made Cally so mad her whole body seemed to vibrate. “You did that on purpose!”
“How dare you accuse me of such a thing!” Lilith sniffed indignantly. “If you hadn’t been such a klutz, you wouldn’t have spilled anything to begin with!”
“Take that back!”
“Oh, yeah? Who’s gonna make me?”
To Cally’s surprise, Bella and Bette Maledetto stepped forward, flanking her on either side.
“Take it back, Lilith,” Bella said sternly.
“Yeah, leave her alone,” Bette agreed.
Lilith automatically glanced over her shoulder, only to remember she could no longer count on Carmen to back her up. She looked over to Armida and Lula, who were watching from the sidelines. Before Lilith could make eye contact, both girls quickly looked away.
“What’s the matter, Lilith?” Melinda asked, moving to join her friends. “Cat got your tongue?”
Lilith glared and opened her mouth, only to suddenly change her mind and walk away without another word. The four friends exchanged glances with one another as they shared a single sigh of relief.
“I can’t believe you guys were willing to do that after the way I’ve treated you,” Cally said in amazement.
“You and Melinda are the only girls at Bathory who have ever treated us decently,” Bette said. “You’re the only real friends we’ve ever had.”
“My sister’s right.” Bella nodded. “Nothing can change the fondness we have for you, Cally.”
Cally shook her head, humbled by the show of loyalty the twins had displayed on her behalf. How could she have allowed Victor Todd, who was little more than a stranger, to manipulate her into severing ties with her best friends? As much as she wanted to be a part of her father’s world, Cally decided there were limits to how far she would go to please him.
“I don’t care if it gets me in trouble or not, I’m going to hang out with whoever I want to from now on,” Cally said. “And if my parents don’t like it—well, they’ll just have to get used to it.”
Besides, Cally told herself, what difference should it make to her father if she spent the evening hanging out with her friends one last time? Since she was being forced to change her entire world on short notice, it seemed only fair to her that she get to enjoy the last night of her old life in the company of her friends.
“I’m so proud of you two,” Cally said. “You both look fantastic!”
“I love your dress!” Bette said enthusiastically.
“Me too!” Bella agreed, and then grimaced. “Sorry about it being ruined.”
“We’ll just see about that,” Melinda said, steering Cally over to a nearby chair. “I have something that should fix things,” she explained, taking a small green bottle and a handkerchief from her clutch purse. “It’s a special formula handed down from my mother’s side of the family, designed to eradicate all traces of a stain without harming the fabric. I never go anywhere without it in case of ‘accidents.’” She removed the stopper from the bottle and wet the hanky, then proceeded to daub at the blood on Cally’s skirt. “See? It’s coming out perfectly….”
“Thanks, Melly,” Cally said. “I really appreciate this.”
“It’s the least I can do under the circumstances.” Melinda shrugged. “I never really thanked you for what you did the other night.”
“What? You mean the pier? Forget about it.”
“Forget that I owe you a blood debt? Not likely. I owe you my life.”
She leaned in and whispered: “And so does my friend. His name’s Tommy Bang. No jokes, please. His father runs the Ghost Tigers down in Chinatown.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Melly,” Cally said. “You would have done the same if our positions had been reversed.”
“I hope I get a chance to find out—not that I’m counting on you being ambushed by Van Helsings.”
“At least not anytime soon.” Cally laughed.
“Okay, young ladies, your time is almost at hand!” Madame Grume announced. “I need you to line up in order in the hallway. Single file! And don’t forget your bouquets! Follow me.” The debutantes gathered their things and went out into the hallway, while Madame Grume checked her PDA. “Who’s first? Let me see…Armida Aitken?”
“Here,” Armida said, raising her hand.
“And your escort is…?”
“Erik Geist.”
“Armida, I need you to go stand in front of that door at the end of the hall. When it opens and you hear your name called, you are to step over the threshold. On the other side is the top of the staircase. Your father will be there waiting for you. You will give him your right hand while holding your bouquet with your left, then you will be led down the stairs. At the foot of the staircase your escort, young Mr. Geist, will be waiting for you.
“He will then take you by the right hand and squire you around the ballroom. You will curtsy at the four points and then make your fifth and final curtsy to the host and hostess of the Grand Ball. Once you have finished, you and Mr. Geist will retire to the platform on the far side of the ballroom, where you will sit on one of the chairs while your escort stands behind you. You will then wait for the rest of the young ladies to make their debuts. The presentation of the thirteenth and final debutante will signal the first waltz of the Grand Ball.
Night Life Page 15
