A Christmas Peril (2 page)

Humans lined up at the buffet tables
which held everything from freshly steamed lobsters to
chateaubriand. The sight and smell of the succulent food, however,
didn’t tempt me. Not with so many soul eaters nearby. I clung
tighter to Isaiah’s hand.

“
You okay?”

I smiled bravely. “Sure. A
few dozen vampires don’t worry me.” As if. My heart pumped like a
piston in a racecar, and every lick of common sense was screaming
for me to run.
These are friendly
vamps
, I reminded myself.
Hedda won’t let them touch you
.

Touch, maybe not. But look? Every eye
fastened on me. As Isaiah and I parted the crowd searching for an
available table, murmurs followed in our wake. A few braver souls
leaned forward to sniff me as I passed. When a brunette in a blue
sheath dress reached out to touch my arm, Isaiah glowered, making
her reconsider. However, she kept staring as we passed, a hungry
gleam in her eyes.

All this attention came from my
uncanny ability to reclaim my shine – the essence of my soul.
Vampires craved it more than blood. Although my shine had been
drained to the dregs eight months before, I’d found a way to
restore it, and vamps found this irresistible. If I’d wanted to put
myself up for sale, I could have had anything I wanted: a leading
part in a Broadway musical, a home in Rio, my own theater. But I
was determined to keep my soul, thank you very much.

Seeing the lust in their vampires’
eyes, the human blood partners moved closer to their vamps, warning
me away with hostile looks. Each was worried I’d try to steal their
vampires away. As if.

We finally found an empty table, and
after promising Isaiah over and over again that I’d be fine, he
left me to fill his plate at the buffet. I searched the sea of
faces for Hedda, but she was nowhere in sight. Despite Isaiah’s
promise that we could leave after an hour, I knew we’d have to stay
until she arrived. It was only polite.

I finished my glass of champagne, then
regretted having drunk it so quickly. My bladder had always seemed
tinier than most women’s, and nerves always made the situation
worse. I waited an uncomfortable few minutes for Isaiah to return
before deciding I didn’t need an escort to the ladies’
room.

Seeing a line at the first floor
restroom, I climbed to the second story where things were much
quieter. Although the ballroom was lit and decorated, no one had
started dancing. Apparently, the real festivities weren’t beginning
until the guest of honor arrived.

The bathroom was blessedly empty, but
as I hoisted up my dress, a clacking set of heels strode inside.
The gasp of breath gave her away as human. A peek under the divider
revealed a pair of black shoes with metal stilettos standing near
the row of sinks. The woman was quiet for a moment, then rushed
back out.

An unpleasant surprise met me when I
exited the stall. The words BITCH, WHORE, and CUNT had been slashed
in bright-red lipstick across the bathroom mirrors. I gaped at
them, a hot flush creeping up my neck. I knew the blood partners
hated me, but the personal attack stabbed deep. At times, I felt
the humans were as likely as the vampires to hurt me.

Furious, I kept my eyes down as I
washed my hands, then hurried from the bathroom, determined to find
Isaiah and leave the party. I was through with the hostile stares
and whispering. My holiday spirits were already at an all-time low;
I didn’t need jealous humans complicating things even more. Leaving
early would be an insult to Hedda, but I’d try to explain it to her
later.

As I headed towards the stairs, a
groan stopped me in my tracks. The groan was immediately followed
by another, more anguished sound.

The hairs on the back of my neck
raised. Hedda swore that no vampire in her grieve took blood or
soul without permission, but this sounded like an assault. Worried,
I took a few cautious steps forward. When I reached an alcove that
must have once housed a telephone booth, I paused.

Standing inside the darkened space, a
couple was locked in an intimate embrace. The vampire’s arms
cinched her human’s waist, and he gripped the vampire’s shoulders.
The man’s head was thrown back, and his eyes squeezed shut. The
vampire had her face buried in his neck. The human’s lips were
pulled from his teeth in a grimace that could have been either
agony or ecstasy. “Don’t stop,” he panted. “Please, darling, keep
going.”

Suddenly, he gasped, his fingers
opening wide before clenching his vampire’s shoulders once more. He
groaned again as his pelvis jerked sharply. Then he smiled
widely.

My cheeks flaming, I hurried away.
Hedda had said that being fed on by a vampire was like making love,
and it certainly appeared that way. Still, it sickened me. Forget
the sentimentality of treating humans nice at Christmas. No matter
what anyone said, there was something dirty about the blood partner
arrangement, and no amount of rationalizing would convince me
otherwise.

From the second-story balcony, I
scanned the room for Isaiah. No matter where I looked, however, I
couldn’t spot his dark dreadlocks. I was about to descend to the
main dining room when my search was interrupted with a burst of
cheering as Hedda glided into the room.

Hedda, as always, cut a regal figure.
She looked both festive and seductive in her shimmering, red gown
with white fur trim. She held her head high, and her shoulders
back. Her jaw was set and her eyes glinted, as if daring anyone to
deny her the right to lead her grieve. This wasn’t an idle threat;
she’d twisted off the head of the last vampire who dared cross
her.

At her entrance, everyone fell silent.
Every human bowed, and every vampire went down on one knee to pay
her homage. Well, almost every vampire. One pair remained standing,
but after exchanging a look, they slowly followed suit, their
smiles more like grimaces. My heartbeat quickened. Because Hedda
never discussed grieve business with humans, this insolence came as
a shock. Until now, I’d thought that everyone in the grieve
accepted Hedda as their leader, but apparently not.

If Hedda noticed the insolence, she
didn’t show it. With a regal smile, she gracefully climbed up the
stairs and turned to face her grieve. “Welcome, my family.” Her
gaze swept the room before landing on me. Her eyes widened in
surprise, but she quickly recovered. “And my friends. We have
suffered a difficult year, but tonight, let us celebrate as if we
are the strongest grieve in the nation.” A tiny pause, followed by
a wry smile. “Which we soon will be.”

After a cheer that made the
floorboards tremble, a vampire rose and mounted the stairs. His
monocle, bushy, gray mutton-chop sideburns, and waxed mustache made
him as much of an antique as the Whitney’s stained glass windows.
He took Hedda’s hand. “We have a special gift to offer. If you
would follow me, please.”

Hedda inclined her head and allowed
the man to lead her to the ballroom. Like iron filings to a magnet,
the rest of the grieve followed.

I nearly yelped as someone put an arm
around my waist. Isaiah. I gratefully leaned against him as he
guided me into the stream of guests. “Let’s do this and be done,”
he muttered.

The ballroom barely contained all of
the guests, but luckily Hedda and Mr. Muttonchops stood on a dais,
giving everyone at least a partial view. Once again, Hedda looked
my way. This time, her brow creased in a puzzled frown. Had she
sent the invitations without expecting us to show?

I wanted to ask Isaiah, but Mr.
Muttonchops began to speak. He had a nice tenor voice which was
only slightly dulled by his lack of soul. “Dear Hedda, we offer you
a few humble gifts. We hope they please you.”

I held my breath as four
young women in evening gowns gracefully ascended the stage. All of
them wore a red ribbon around their necks. They stood in a row
behind Hedda and Mr. Muttonchops. The moment Mr. Muttonchops swept
his hand at the women, realization struck. These
women
were the humble
gifts! I sagged against Isaiah, counting on his strength to keep me
upright.

“
We hope you might find
another blood partner to sit by your side,” Mr. Muttonchops
said.

Isaiah’s back stiffened as did Hedda’s
expression. Vampires were experts at holding poker faces, but the
offer of a new partner had cracked her calm. Her former partner had
been the love of her life, yet the grieve expected these ‘humble
gifts’ to take the place of what Hedda had claimed to be genuine
love.

For a moment, I thought she’d decline,
but she immediately regained control. With a slight smile, she
nodded her approval and walked in front of each of the women. The
four were lovely, in a haughty, super-model way. When Mr.
Muttonchops asked them to introduce themselves, they said their
names along with their occupations: violinist, dancer, painter, and
novelist. Because artists have more shine than other humans, these
four would be succulent morsels to a vampire who needed soul to
survive.

Hedda regarded the women for several
minutes before taking the hand of the dancer: a tall woman with a
graceful neck whose bare shoulders shimmered with gold powder.
Jealousy hardened the smiles of the unchosen. There were no
gracious losers here.

“
Thank you, Cornelius. I
accept your gift,” Hedda said with a genuine smile. “You do me a
great honor.”

So much for true love.
Hedda had sworn that Marcella, her previous partner, had been her
one and only, but apparently in the vampire world,
one and only
meant
easily
replaceable
. Well, good luck, sister, I
thought to the new blood partner. Once your soul is gone, you’ll be
kicked to the curb along with all the other used-up, soulless blood
partners.

Isaiah’s eyes were hard and flat. He
wasn’t any happier about this than I was.

Now that Hedda had been given her
present, other vampires began bestowing gifts as well. I’d thought
they would pair up – one blood partner to one vampire – but
instead, the humans and vampires gathered into groups comprised of
several vamps and their humans, acting like nuclear families at a
large reunion. The brunette who had tried to touch me grouped
together with another vampire and three human partners, but the
largest collection was led by Cornelius, the vampire with the gray,
mutton-chop sideburns.

I nudged Isaiah, and he nodded
thoughtfully. Neither of us had guessed that there were hierarchies
within the grieve.

As the presents were exchanged, the
vampires looked on with indulgent smiles while their humans
squealed in delight. The packages contained furs, keys to new cars,
keys to new houses, and boxes in Tiffany blue. A young man shouted
for joy when he opened a card. “My own, private box at Joe Lewis
Arena!” he bragged, holding up the pass.

I wasn’t fooled by the
revelry. The humans acted happy, but it was a sham. Many of them
had lost so much soul that their eyes were empty, and their smiles
hollow. Having your soul drained meant losing your
joie de vivre
. Still, to
these blood partners, having half a soul was fine as long as they
had season tickets to the Pistons or a brand-new
Cadillac.

It wasn’t jealousy that drew a tight
line across my forehead, but disgust. I might live in a rented
house, scramble for grocery money, and drive a broken-down jalopy,
but at least I was my own woman.

Isaiah tightened his arm
around my waist. Okay,
almost
my own woman. Having my sexy vampire hunter in my
life was all I needed to make me happy.

I waited impatiently as Hedda worked
the room, hugging some members of her grieve and offering kisses to
others. She even greeted the two vampires who had begrudgingly
showed her obeisance. The pair smiled at her, but when she walked
away, they stared daggers at her back.

Isaiah and I were the last to be
greeted. Hedda shook Isaiah’s hand, but hugged me and pressed her
cold lips to my cheek. “Cassandra. Such a pleasant surprise,” she
murmured.

“
As pleasant as the grieve
giving you a new blood partner?” I didn’t bother keeping the
bitterness out of my voice.

“
I must feed to live,
Cassandra. It’s the reality of my life.”

Before I could comment, she took my
arm and drew me out of the crowded ballroom. Isaiah followed. Hedda
led us through a doorway and into what must have once been a
library. When the door was firmly shut, her brow puckered once
again. “I hadn’t expected you this evening.” Her statement was
polite, yet frank. She looked more worried than angry.

“
Someone did.” Isaiah
pulled an invitation from the inner pocket of his tux.

Frowning, Hedda read the invitation,
her finger tracing the handwritten note at the bottom of the
printed card. “I didn’t send this.”

My mind flashed to the ugly words
written in the bathroom. Isaiah and I weren’t expected at the
party, and we certainly weren’t wanted. I knew that this night
would end up complicated!

“
I’m not sure what’s going
on, but for your own safety, I think you should leave,” Hedda
said.