She Dies at the End (November Snow #1) (6 page)

“Thank you!” November exclaimed with an amazed smile.  "I thought it would scar something awful."

“No trouble at all,” her new friend replied.  “Why don’t I give you the grand tour?  The bloodsuckers will be up soon,” she said with a smile.

November pulled on one of several pairs of gloves she had found in her underwear drawer (They really had thought of everything.) and followed the fairy, not mentioning that she had already conducted her own partial tour earlier.  

“So, what are you studying?” November asked as they walked down the tastefully decorated hallway.

“Double major, music and history, at Cal,” she replied.  “Everyone wants me to be a lawyer.”   Going back to the tour for a moment, she added, “The house was rebuilt after being damaged in the Oakland Hills fire.  Your neighbors on this hallway are all fairies.  There are five of us who live in the house.  Willow and Pine run daytime security with some other fairies who live offsite, and Birch is Lord William’s right hand man.  Rose is the house manager, and Birch’s wife.  Pine is their son.  Rose set up your room, which used to be storage.  There are also a number of guest rooms up here, for fairy visitors.”

“Were the instruments and stuff in my room yours?” November asked.  Zinnia replied with a nod.  “Would you rather be a musician or a lawyer?”  November had never really given any thought to her future, given that she didn’t have one.  She’d also never lasted at a school more than a few days, so college wasn’t really ever on the horizon. 

“Fairies don’t sleep, so there’s plenty of time to do both,” she explained.

“Never?”

“Only when severely wounded.  We’re more vulnerable at night, though, so we don’t go out alone after sunset, especially during a full moon.  Werewolves are the biggest threat to us.  Our power to absorb living energy doesn’t work at night, nor does our ability to change form.   So, we can neither feed, nor fight well, nor flee.  That’s why I didn’t go hunting last night with the boys.”

“What do you mean by change forms?”

“We have a fairy form, a tiny body that glows and flies.  You know, like Tinkerbell in that book you humans like so much.”  Zinnia made a face.  “Man, that girl makes us look so pathetic.  We kind of hate her.” 

“I saw a group of them, when you healed me, but I didn’t realize what I was seeing.  It was beautiful.”  November felt rather overwhelmed by all this information, but Zinnia’s matter-of-fact demeanor aided her effort to avoid freaking out.

“Yeah.  A bunch of us together makes a pretty good show,” Zinnia replied.  While chatting, the two girls had made their way past the fairy bedrooms and down a couple of impressive staircases to the large entryway.  There was a matching staircase on the opposite side of the foyer leading into the other wing.  November had never been in such an enormous home.  The foyer was quite modern in design, lots of glass and metal and the color white, with the marble tile she’d seen in her mental tour.  The only rather incongruous touch of the antique was the collection of portraits, most of them obviously centuries old.  They featured the faces of the three vampires in her burial vision, unchanged by time of course, plus a statuesque blond woman, portrayed as wife and mother to this vampire family.  There were a number of other vampires and fairies she didn’t recognize.

“Who is the blond woman?” November asked with curiosity.  “I saw her when I did Lord William’s reading.”

Zinnia looked sad for a moment.  “That’s King Ilyn’s late wife, Queen Marisha.  She died about 200 years ago, so I never got to meet her.  They say the king has never been the same.  They were together over 2000 years.”

November gasped.  The scale was incomprehensible.  “How awful!  What happened?” she asked.

“No one knows.  She was murdered, they think, but no one could figure out how or by whom.  There were suspects, and the king and the whole family moved heaven and earth, but they could never find any proof of guilt.”

Zinnia returned to the tour.  “Now, the wing where our bedrooms are is the residence, with the kitchen, living areas, game room, theatre, swimming pool, music room, and ballroom.  The opposite wing houses the offices, conference rooms, auditorium, war room, and courtroom.  This house is the seat of government for vampires and fairies in California.  No human has ever been permitted in the government wing, so I recommend that you don’t go wandering over there.” 

Zinnia took November through the domestic portion of the house, which was homey and comfortable while remaining thoroughly modern and stylish, courtesy of what must have been an excellent decorator.  The kitchen was amazing: huge and bright and stocked with lovely high-end appliances.  It seemed a shame that it was wasted with the exception of the refrigerator, which was filled to bursting with the blood of various creatures, neatly labeled and dated.  November wondered how the human blood had been obtained but had no desire to actually reach out her hand and find out.  “They had to have the builder include a stove and all.  To do otherwise would have aroused suspicion,” Zinnia explained.  "And it gets used occasionally, for human business partners and people like that."

What truly impressed November, however, was the library.  The brief glimpse she’d had of it in vision really didn’t do it justice.  The room was two stories tall, with ladders on rails, stocked floor to ceiling with books both ancient and contemporary.  It smelled of leather and old paper.  Several large mahogany desks furnished this temple of learning, with couches and armchairs and reading lamps scattered about.  For a bookworm like November, it was heaven.  She must have looked as thrilled as she felt, for Zinnia grinned, saying, “I’m sure Lord William would let you read whatever you like.”  November was wonderstruck. 

Zinnia continued playing tour-guide.  “The vampires have their bedrooms underground, of course.  The various entries to the basement are hidden and very well-secured.  Their rooms are light-tight and impervious to fire.”

“What did the contractors think of that?” November wondered aloud.

“Lord William told them they were vaults for a priceless collection of artwork,” Zinnia replied.  “People are pretty credulous when they’re being paid an awful lot of money.  Also when you can enthrall them with the sound of your voice into believing anything you say.”

“I bet.” 

The two girls sat in the library chatting and reading the newspaper.  November avoided the news sections and the depressing visions they would inspire.  Zinnia told her a little bit about herself.  She was living with William while she went to school.  Her father, originally from Japan, had died when Zinnia was small.  She went to visit relatives in Japan every summer, but it was awkward.  "I'm too American for them.  Too white.  Sometimes being mixed is hard," she said.

Her mother Amandier, who hailed from Quebec, was now Lady Governor of Oregon and a close ally of Lord William and his clan.  “Lord William is even one of my bond kin,” Zinnia added.  When November raised an inquiring eyebrow, the fairy explained, “When fairies are born, they impress on anyone they come into contact with in the first 24 hours of life.  So, fairy parents invite their close friends and family to visit during that time.  We have a feeling of well-being when close to them, and we can sense distress.  Only works both ways between fairies, though.  I can sense Lord William a little, but he can’t read me at all.  The bond lasts our whole lives, many centuries.”

November tilted her head in surprise.  She hadn’t realized that fairies were as immortal as their vampire friends, since the only one she’d ever met happened to be the genuinely teenaged Zinnia.  Only nineteen years old, Zinnia was still a child by the standards of her people, and she was still quite vulnerable to injury or death by misadventure.  “They watch me like a hawk,” her friend said, half-complaining through a smile. 

November wondered what it was like for all of them, to live for centuries, to have such a long view of history, to watch generation after generation of humans be born, make the same mistakes as their forebears, and die off.   She supposed they must share her cynicism. 
Nothing ever changes.

Zinnia got out her laptop as November continued to read the paper and began exploring the books in the library.  The girls kept chatting until sunset brought the vampires upstairs. Lord William entered the library, inquiring, “I hope you had a good rest, November?”

“I slept like a log,” November confirmed, “Better than I ever have.  You should bite me every night,” she joked, blushing as it hit her just how forward that sounded.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said with a grin that thankfully rendered the comment less creepy than it would otherwise have been.  “Zin’s been showing you around?”

“Yes.  I might even be able to find my way back to my room.”  November felt strangely awkward.  She just didn’t know how to be around him.  He had essentially kidnapped her and installed her as some kind of servant in his house, but, then, she hadn’t exactly put up a fight.  Part of her thought she should hate him, but she somehow couldn’t quite manage it.

The truth was, this place already felt more like a home than she’d had in some time, and she had been waiting for these people her whole life.  He was taking advantage of her gift and of her unfortunate situation, but if he was giving her something of value in return, a safe home, a family of sorts, perhaps she could forgive him for the initial transgression. 
We'll see
, she thought.

Then there was the complication of their blood connection.  The intimacy was both exciting and strange, and she did not fully understand it.

“Do you feel ready to meet the rest of my people?” William asked.  “Some of them are very curious about you.  I’ve told them of your gift.  Otherwise, they would have objected to having you living in the house.  They are loyal to me; they will not reveal you to outsiders.  I would trust them with my life.”  Of course, he was trusting them with November’s life as well.  That made the locked bedroom even more offensive to November: she had to trust them, but they had no trust in her. 

“I should warn you, most vampires are used to thinking of humans as prey or entertainment or useful tools, not as people worthy of consideration or concern.  I realize that must offend you, but that attitude is part of what allows us to survive.  We maintain an emotional distance; we have to in order to be able to live with ourselves.  Imagine it, November: one day, you are human.  The next, you have to hunt humans in order to stay alive. Humans do the same thing: dehumanizing their enemies, and ignoring the suffering of the animals they use for food.  Any other humans we bring here are so enthralled that they have little memory of what happens to them.  Please, just be patient with my people, and try to forgive them if they offend you with their words.  They are going to need some time to get accustomed to you, as you will need to get accustomed to us.”

November grew more and more nervous as William spoke, but she did understand probably more than most humans would.  She knew a little something about keeping oneself remote from the suffering of others in order to maintain one’s sanity.

“What about fairies?  Do they feel the same way?” November asked, biting her lower lip.

“It has always been easier for fairies to blend into human society,” Zinnia answered.  “We could wear a wig or dye our hair, live among them, and feed with a handshake or an embrace.  We don’t have to shed blood or lure our prey to a remote location in order to get a meal.  So, we don’t tend to see humans as quite so foreign, at least when we’re young.  The older we get, the more isolated we tend to be from the humans around us, especially when we mostly associate with vampires and other fairies.  The next youngest fairy in the house is almost 300 years old.  So, everyone finds me amusing,” she finished a bit sadly.  “They find me precious and naïve and overly emotional.”

“Also refreshing and sweet,” William added with genuine affection.  It was obvious how fond he was of his bond niece.

“Alright,” November said, trying to unclench her jaw.  “I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.  Let’s run the gauntlet.”   

William tapped on the door of the library, and the members of his inner circle filed in and surrounded their unusual houseguest.

“This is Greg, keeper of the exchequer,” William began, “and Savita’s son.”  Greg nodded at her, little interested, then turned his attention to the newspaper November had discarded.  He had been about 30 years old when he was turned, November guessed.  Dressed in a yellow shirt and designer khakis, he was a tall, slender African-American with close-cropped hair, a goatee, and heavy, black hipster glasses.  She wondered if a lot of vampires did that, wearing glasses to blend in.  It seemed like that would play well with accountants and bankers and stock brokers.

“Birch, my lieutenant governor,” William continued.  This was the man she had glimpsed earlier in the office, the one with tight lime-green curls and skin the color of good earth.  Birch gave her a searching look when he was introduced, as though trying to find something wrong with her.  Another skeptic, perhaps.  He looked like one who rarely smiled.

Lord William continued the introductions, and November tried to focus on learning the names.  Felix, Megan, and Daniel were described as knights serving the household along with the fairies Willow and Pine, so she pegged them as the security personnel Zinnia had mentioned.  November wondered what their actual duties were.  Whom were they trying to keep out?  Or in?  Did they make arrests?  Fight battles?  All five knights looked to be in their mid-twenties, but of course, November had no idea of their actual ages.  They looked her carefully up and down in an almost clinical fashion.  November didn’t know if they were evaluating her as a threat or as a meal.  Willow was quite fair, with shockingly purple eyes to match her hair, compared to which Pine’s light brown skin and amber hair and eyes seemed much more sedate.