by Robyn Bachar
“My hero. You know, I don’t think these bruises will match my dress for the party,” I joked half-heartedly.
“I’ll find a makeup artist to cover it for you. You should be well enough to make an appearance, but we won’t stay long at the opening.”
“Is Laura going to be there?” There was no way I could deal with her after this-she was number one on my hit list now. Maybe when I got out I could join up with the Silverleafs and we’d slay her mightily together, one big, happy, vengeful faerie family.
“Yes she is, but if she even looks in your direction, she’ll be asked to leave.”
“Asked with extreme prejudice?”
“Yes. I’m sorry she attacked you, this is entirely my fault.”
“You two were…” I paused, searching for a polite term, “…involved, huh?”
He shifted uncomfortably and then nodded. “I was one of her most prized pets, but that was years ago. Laura tends to go through men rather quickly.”
“Like she goes through shoes?”
The vampire chuckled, but it was a hollow sound. I could tell there was a story there, but he wasn’t going to discuss it. “Why’d she go after me like a jealous wife if you’re not involved anymore?”
“Aside from the fact that she doesn’t agree with my politics in this case, it’s one of Laura’s eccentricities. She has no problem moving on to a new pet, but she expects all of her former ones to pine for her for the rest of their lives. She hasn’t cared as long as I’ve had short, empty relationships with other women.”
“And I’m different?”
“You are, yes.” Avoiding elaborating on that topic, he changed the subject. “Catherine, I know you must leave tomorrow, but you need to be careful when you do. Magicians who haven’t become necromancers don’t typically ingest our blood, and there can be dangerous side effects. Rare, but there is a risk.”
I frowned down into my mug and considered his words. “I’ll be careful.”
“Good. Now, I’d like to test how steady you are on your feet.”
For the next several minutes Zach let me lean on him as I tested my wobbly legs doing laps around the room. At first it was a struggle, but as we continued to move I realized most of the problem was in my head. Sure I had plenty of aches and pains, but he healed my injuries very well and they’d been reduced to bruises and sore muscles. Once he was convinced I wasn’t going to crumple like a wilting flower, Zach gave me free reign of the room and also the ginormous master bathroom and retreated with his laptop into the main room.
When I was clean and clothed-he’d brought a T-shirt and jeans from my suite in addition to the pajamas I was wearing-I emerged into the main area of his lair to discover a feast fit for ten people waiting for me. I’d always wondered what it would look like if someone ordered everything on a restaurant menu, and thanks to Harrison I had my answer.
“I wasn’t sure what you wanted,” he offered as an explanation as I stared in amazement at the banquet.
“Right…”
Like a parent trying to keep an eye on his child without hovering constantly, he observed me from a distance for the rest of the day. While he took calls on his cell phone and worked on his computer, I lounged around and watched movies until evening began to draw near. True to his word, Harrison found not only a makeup artist for me but also a hair stylist, a manicurist, and a fashion consultant who brought enough clothing to fill the women’s section of a department store. The four of them swarmed around me like stylish bees and whisked me back into the bedroom. It was an effort to find something that I looked good and felt comfortable in. The experience was even more overwhelming than Portia’s stint as the Makeover Fairy. My hair was trimmed and warm red highlights were added, and my poor, neglected nails were molested in some acrylic fashion the girl called “French tips”.
The makeup artist was a woman named Willow, who was slightly older than me, with shocking purple hair and funky black rhinestone-studded eyeglasses. She clucked with disapproval as she examined the dark ring around my eye.
“Oh, honey, what happened?” she asked.
“The ex-girlfriend threw down with me. She won.” It was both a simple and accurate explanation, and Willow sighed and shook her head.
“She must be a real bitch.”
“You have no idea.”
“Well, it’s obvious you’re the one he loves now, or he wouldn’t be lavishing all this attention on you.” She winked conspiratorially. I fought the urge to frown in response, uncomfortable with that idea, and she took my hesitation as uncertainty. “Don’t worry, hon, we can see it in the way he looks at you. Right, Steph?”
The girl attacking my nails looked up and nodded. “Oh yeah, totally. You know we do weddings too.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Great, a vampire wedding, just what every little girl dreams of. My stomach plummeted and hung out somewhere between my knees for the rest of the experience. By the time they were finished, I barely recognized myself in the mirror. My hair was curled and swept up into a million-and-one hairpins piled on top of my head, with a few soft, decorative ringlets cascading downward. The makeup was flawless, concealing my bruises and improving my features so I looked like a movie star. The consultant had chosen a long, draped dress made of an airy material that seemed to float around me as I moved. Shades of light, summery green that I probably never would have chosen actually looked fabulous with my highlighted hair and the spray-on tan Willow had assaulted me with.
I looked fabulous. I hoped it made Laura suffer.
When I emerged from the den of fashion and was free of the hovering stylists I found Zach waiting for me, dressed in an honest-to-goodness tailor-made designer tuxedo. I’d never seen a tux that wasn’t a rental before. He looked damn good. For a walking corpse, right? Right, I meant damn good for a walking corpse.
This could only end badly.
“You look stunning. Ready to go?” he asked, offering his arm.
“Yeah, just walk slow. I’m wobbly enough without balancing on these stilts.”
“Of course.” Zach smiled. “I must apologize, though.”
“For what?”
“Smudging your lipstick.” Gathering me into his arms, he kissed me. Unsteady from the shoes, I couldn’t do much other than cling to him. “I want you to stay here with me tonight.” I started to shake my head, but he cut me off before I could protest. “Nothing improper need happen, I only want to make sure that you’re safe and well.”
Though his words sounded sincere, there was an intensity in his eyes that promised much more. “I’ll think about it,” I replied weakly.
With me holding tight to his arm we made our way to the elevator. After a short ride we emerged onto the floor of the art gallery, arriving at his super-secret ninja back way in, which I was rather grateful for considering I didn’t want to make an awkward grand entrance from the main doors. Caterers, security and other random minions parted before us like the Red Sea as Harrison swept past them. We walked through a set of swinging doors into the gallery itself, and I was struck by the thick, roiling scent of mixed magic-some vampire, some shapeshifter, a little bit of everything but faerie.
“I thought this was a human party?” I asked between gritted teeth, a fake smile plastered onto my face as we gazed out at the crowd.
“What would you prefer, the rich and privileged or the fanged and furry?” he asked, guiding me into the fray.
“None of the above.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
There were vamps at every turn, sipping wine, discussing the artwork, exchanging polite conversation with one another. A sprinkling of shapeshifters was mixed in with the walking dead, as well as assorted magicians-necromancers mostly, with a few sorcerers and thankfully not a single witch in sight. It quickly became obvious to me that the safest place to be when surrounded by a roomful of vampires is on the arm of the richest and most powerful one. I’d wondered what the other va
mps thought of Harrison. He was practically a baby, yet he ordered around one of the three members of the Midwestern vampire council like she was his bitch. What’s more, she actually allowed him to treat her that way. Considering that Lovely Laura Barrenheart was the only female vampire council member I’d heard of, she really ought to be one tough broad, because she’d beat out the old boys’ network. Or she was a turbo slut who’d slept her way to the top, but that was a very un-feminist thing for me to think. As a result, I’d figured Harrison had to be pretty powerful and well respected.
Boy, did I ever call that one.
The vampires were easy to spot. It’s the lack of sun that gives them away. Even in a world that believes in better living through chemistry old vamps don’t seem to have heard of a tan in a bottle. I thought they’d be snide to Zach, talk down to him like they were old money and he was nouveau riche, but they didn’t. The vampires liked him, and most were even happy to see him. They seemed to respect him, and I wasn’t sure if I should be impressed or terrified by that. Probably both. It was strange to me. When people reacted to Lex they feared or respected him for being a member of the magic police, but Zach they treated like their favorite politician, the one they not only voted for but were willing to donate to his campaign fund as well.
Me they treated like arm candy. I was on display as much as the artwork while Zach showed off that the new Titania was his pet. I wanted to strangle him for it. At least he was introducing me as Catherine Baker, the name I actually go by but virtually no one had used once since I’d been drawn into the crazy Titania drama. It was the polite thing to do-broadcasting a person’s True Name to the world is an enormous faux pas in magician society.
Slow and methodical, Harrison made the rounds of the gala, chatting with his guests, stopping to admire the artwork and explain to me each piece and its meaning and importance to the collection. Polite, attentive and witty, he was a perfect host. Were all vampire gatherings this calm and sophisticated? Even Laura was on her best behavior, keeping her distance and spending her time flirting with every male within ten feet of her. I wondered if she thought it would make Zach jealous? I doubted it, considering he was glued to my side and seemed to have eyes only for me. The flirtation was subtle-the light touch of his hand at the small of my back, a whispered comment in my ear.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked as we stood studying a large bronze sculpture.
“Yes, I think so.” I nodded, glancing around. People were giving us space at the moment, and I didn’t feel quite as uncomfortable.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back. Don’t worry, no one would dare bother you. I’ll just be a moment.”
“All right.”
Zach kissed me on the cheek before walking away, and I felt my face burn with an embarrassed blush. Considering the thick layer of makeup I had spackled on my face, I doubt anyone noticed the expression. Left alone, I studied the sculpture with a critical eye. I didn’t understand it-it looked like a big misshapen lump to me.
“Good evening, Miss Morrow,” a voice behind me greeted. Turning toward the speaker, I frowned, and after a moment I recognized him as Simon St. Jerome. It was the outfit that threw me-he was wearing a simple black suit, and without his Dungeons and Dragons black wizard robes he really looked quite normal.
“Simon? What are you doing here?” The vampire hadn’t struck me as the social type, and this was definitely a social gathering.
“I could ask you the same question.”
I wondered what he must be thinking after seeing me on Harrison’s arm all night. “That’s a long story.”
The vampire tilted his head to the side, studying me. “I’m sure it is. I would like to hear it one day. Are you well?”
“Well enough, no thanks to Laura,” I replied with a grimace, reaching to ensure my throat was still in one piece.
“I take it she objects to your…new status?” Simon raised a finely drawn brow, and I frowned.
“What status?”
“As the Lady of Harrison Tower.”
“Huh. Yeah, I’m about as happy to be here as the Lady of Shallot,” I quipped. I knew he’d get the Tennyson reference, and Simon nodded in understanding. “You didn’t bring your friends? Mr. and Mrs. Black?”
“Actually they’re speaking with your associate Mr. MacInnes at the moment. Apparently he’s a fan of Emily’s writing.”
Glancing around for Mac, I instead spotted Zach returning, holding a white china cup and saucer.
“Here you are, my dear,” Zach said, handing me the cup.
“Thank you.” I smiled. Coffee, perfect. Powered by caffeine, I can survive anything.
“I see you’ve met Lord Wroth. I must admit I am surprised to see you here, you almost always decline my invitations,” Zach commented as he scrutinized him. Simon seemed nonplussed by the statement. I wondered if Wroth was his true name. If so, he was taking Harrison’s rudeness remarkably well.
“You’ve created quite a stir, Harrison. I thought this gathering would be well worth witnessing.”
“Really.”
The two vampires sized each other up for a tense moment as I drank my coffee, and I put a calming hand on Zach’s shoulder. The moment passed, and he smiled pleasantly at Simon. “Well, I hope you have a good view then.”
“I always do.” Simon smiled in return, and there was a sly edge to the expression. He nodded at me, and then bowed slightly to Harrison before walking away.
“I guess even the undead have paparazzi,” I joked, trying to put Zach at ease. “How much longer do I have to stay?”
“Are you tired?” Concern crossed his face, and I shook my head. “Just a bit longer then. We have a few more people to speak with.” He held his hand out to me, and I put my hand in his and let him lead me away to the next objet d’arte.
Everything was calm and quiet as we continued throughout the gallery. We met more people whose names I would never remember, and I saw more art I didn’t understand. Not my kind of party, but I’d take boring over potentially dangerous any day. Zach and I stood in the gallery’s main room, providing fodder for several groups of gossiping vamps around us. Then the conversation died as a commotion interrupted the polite mood.
Turning toward the noise, I saw the body of a member of the security team fly into the room, landing a few feet from the doorway he’d been thrown through. I couldn’t tell if the man was dead, but he was certainly not moving. Harrison took a step forward to shield me from whatever danger approached, and he turned to one of the vampire bodyguards that had been less than inconspicuously hovering around us all night.
“Get the civilians out,” he ordered. “Now.”
The vamp nodded in reply and began speaking into his sleeve like a Secret Service agent. I set my almost empty cup of coffee on the nearest table, which was probably inappropriate considering it displayed a piece of art, but I wanted my hands free to deal with whatever the problem was. A few more grunts and yelps were heard in the direction of the main entrance as the bulk of the crowd was herded out of the room, and then the instigator sauntered into view-a familiar figure in his black duster, T-shirt and jeans.
“Lex?” I gasped in disbelief. Stepping forward, I tried to move toward him, but was grabbed by Harrison and shoved behind him.
“I know you were not invited, Duquesne,” Zach warned.
The guardian glanced around the room and shook his head in disappointment. “It’s not my kind of party. I don’t mean to stay long.”
“You aren’t welcome here.”
Again I tried to step forward, but Harrison tightened his grip on my forearm, almost painfully so. I opened my mouth and prepared to tell him off, but I paused as I caught a hint of his true emotion. Despite the fact he looked outwardly calm and more than a little annoyed, Zach was worried. Afraid even, just as he’d been after Laura attacked me. I blinked as I digested this information, and in a surprising show of tact I kept my big mouth shut.
“I’m just here to c
ollect my Titania, and then I’ll leave you to your soiree.”
“We’ve already proven that you have no grounds to remove her, since she willingly agreed to stay here as our guest,” Lovely Laura chimed in. With slow, echoing steps she crossed to stand near us. Yeah, Laura wanted me dead, but protecting the vampire turf was more important to her at the moment. We were in the middle of a room full of vamps Zach needed to impress-it would be an enormous sign of weakness on his part if he let me leave with Lex now.
“I’m takin’ her home.”
I felt Zach’s mood shift again. He was still afraid, but now he was angry as well. “Perhaps she doesn’t wish to leave with you.”
All eyes turned to me, and I wanted to sink right through the floor. “Umm, could we possibly discuss this in private?”
“There is nothing to discuss,” Zach countered, and then turned back to Lex. “I’ve kept my word. I haven’t forced her, nor harmed her. Catherine chose to be here. Now, you are trespassing, and I see no reason not to remove you from our territory.” He motioned to the crowd, and a sea of vamps surged forward to attack Lex.
“No!” I shouted, and was completely ignored. Turning on his heel, Harrison strode away from the fight, dragging me along behind him. “Damn it, Zach, don’t do this. Let me go,” I implored as I stumbled along. Determined, he continued through the now-empty gallery, headed toward the private entrance we’d arrived at. “Please, tell them to stop.”
“I can’t,” he replied. I tried to give him a magical shove, and it didn’t even muss his hair. I dug my heels in to slow him down, and one of the stilettos snapped beneath me, causing me to tumble to the ground. Zach stopped, an apologetic expression on his face as he looked down at me. “I’m sorry, Catherine, I truly am,” he said as he knelt beside me. “I can’t let you go with him.”
“Why not?” I asked, my voice tight with too much emotion. “You had to know I’d see him again when I left.” I fiddled with the strap of my broken shoe, my manicured nails making the process difficult.
“This is different. Let me do that.” Taking my foot in his hand, he started to undo the tiny buckles.
