Twice Bitten (36 page)

The ballroom was much bigger than it appeared from outside, and it contained another fireplace in addition to the one I saw. The air was actually comfortable, despite the entrance being open and from my count at least eighty vampires present. In addition to the holiday pine boughs and lights, the decorated cedar tree in the middle of the room was spectacular. Silver, gold, and red glass ornaments covered it from top to bottom, along with gold and silver garland. The only thing it lacked were presents underneath. But having this experience by itself was the biggest present I could’ve ever hoped for. It was the same thing for Tyreen, who nodded approvingly as she admired it and everything else while walking over to me.

“Ain’t this the shit?” she said, shaking her head. “And for you, sister, they’ve even got some French guy over there in the corner pouring liquor and slicing a beef roast.”

“No fucking way.”

I couldn’t see what she was talking about at first, but then I saw Racco’s personal assistant, Mercel Arcenau, waving to me from near one of the fireplaces. No doubt, the spot was chosen since it was likely the warmest place in the room. Tyreen was right…in addition to a small bar and carving table, it looked as if he had also cooked up some steamed vegetables and brought along several deserts, as well.

Talk about ‘died and gone to heaven’. Like Tyreen had just enthused, this was truly ‘the shit’! My foremost question was how in the hell did Racco, Franz, or Gustav get our Chinese hosts to allow this stuff in here?

The question must have been written all over my face as Raquel and Chanson joined me where I stood.

“Now you know that we’ll do anything to keep you from getting too home sick.” Raquel looked up at me and smiled. The fact this tiny yet ferocious vampire had learned to really like me since our first meeting in Tennessee nearly two months earlier wasn’t lost on me. I felt incredibly grateful, and I knew in my heart that if that bond had not developed then this afternoon’s attack might’ve turned out far worse for me. “Go on over there and verify this isn’t some cruel mirage on our part.”

I sent up a silent prayer that Raquel was right and that this wasn’t some mean trick. A meal that didn’t include rice or some version of chow mein and tea was an overdue treat. I believe I would’ve cried if what I saw before me wasn’t the real deal.

However, moving through the crowd of vampires almost dampened my raging hunger. It was the way that some of them looked at me…eyeing me with distrust and anger. Many of the faces I recognized since nearly everyone in the room came to China on the same airplane and had not only witnessed my Relance de sang, but also had participated with me in two celebrations on a much grander scale than the one taking place that night.

Not all of the vampires were in such a foul mood. Granted, most of them probably have no use for human holidays like Christmas. But, I have yet to meet a vampire that doesn’t love a good time…it just depends on how these creatures define such an event. Thankfully, this particular Christmas Eve found the majority of patrons more than content to dance, sing, and enjoy the ample flying space above us—along with the free-flowing golden vats of human blood I had first seen in France. Vampire after vampire filled their wine goblets with whatever blood type they preferred, and most sought to mix and match kamikaze style. I prayed that what was offered contained no contributions from some poor Chinese kid’s parents.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mademoiselle Ybarra!” Mercel greeted me, upon my arrival at his station. His French accent seemed less pronounced than the last time I spoke with him. “Is your preference still merlot, and if so would you care for a glass of…almost wine, since you are with child?”

“Honey, you can just hand me the damned bottle—of the real stuff!” I told him, motioning to let him know it was just a joke when he started to hand me a bottle of Racco’s prized merlots that he had stashed beneath the serving table. It must’ve been intended only for him and possibly the helicopter pilot or other staff members, since they were the only humans besides me. “A glass of the sparkling grape soda will be fine, I guess, although it ain’t nothing like the real thing. I definitely would like a little of everything else you’ve got there!”

He laughed, revealing his generous smile. A handsome blue-eyed blonde, and perhaps Racco’s most devoted servant, he eyed me curiously for a moment, as if he had a secret that he was eager to reveal.

“So, how is Racco?” I hoped if he did have a secret to tell, it involved his boss. “Is he well?”

I suddenly felt a nudge from Chanson, and I turned to face her before she scurried back to Raquel carrying two goblets filled with crimson. I heard her say “be careful what you talk about…protect your heart, cousin.” Then she mouthed, “We’re the ones who love you!”

“He talks about you all the time,” said Mercel, quietly.

I watched him glance toward the spot where Chanson and Raquel stood, and where Franz, Armando, and Garvan had also gathered. They suddenly all turned toward me. It gave me the queerest sense of déjà vu…me talking about Racco and someone in my vampire entourage watching me with disdain. Only this time, he wasn’t here, and my companions’ reactions were tepid smiles instead of the outright scorn I endured at Racco’s castle in the Pyrenees.

“What kind of things does he say?” I tried to seem as coy as possible while my heart began to race.

“I think you know,” he whispered harshly, after casting a more wary glance toward the five vampires entrusted to watch over me. I didn’t have to follow his eyes to know they all were attempting to listen in on us, as they continued to watch our interaction.

“I honestly can’t say if I do know or not. He’s always so hard to figure—”

“He loves you!” Mercel trembled in anger. I wondered if this was because his master suffered so, or was it more the fact that Mercel hated being placed in this position as a delivery boy with so many immortals that eyed him hungrily without Racco nearby to offer protection. “He doesn’t care that you bear another’s child, and you can sneak away with us—”

“Bartender, perhaps you wouldn’t mind adding a small smidgen of alcohol to my Type O tonight?”

Gustav suddenly appeared next to me, and Mercel clammed up completely. He nodded emphatically to Gustav and bowed away as he sought to open another bottle of wine, only this one was a chardonnay.

“You look ravishing tonight, Txema!” Gustav said to me, while Mercel poured a small amount of wine into a thimble-sized container.

“It’s good to see you, too, Gustav.” I forced a smile while praying there would be no ill will against Mercel. He was merely an unwitting messenger for Racco. I needed to come up with an effective distraction quick. “I thank you so much for putting this event together tonight—it means the world to me!”

He now eyed me as curiously as Mercel had a short while earlier. Only in this case, my instincts told me that I didn’t need to know
any
secret this lord of immortals carried with him. At least he wasn’t wearing the garish papal outfits he favored in France, or anything like the golden robe he wore when he addressed this same crowd shortly after our arrival at the palace in November. Dressed in the sort of tux and cape that Kazikli preferred, and sans any cap at all, he looked much younger, sporting light brown hair that was pulled back in a long ponytail I never knew existed. Only his porcelain white skin gave him away as an extremely old vampire, although flushed slightly pink. At least Mercel’s blood was safe…for now.

“You are quite welcome!” Gustav’s eyes seemed to deepen in their bluish gold swirl of color. I took that as a good sign, and silently prayed I was right. “It’s the least we could do since all of us are aware this hasn’t been an easy transition for you, and our original destination would have been no worse than Le chateau de douleur. Perhaps it will help you forget the unpleasantness from earlier today. Hmmm?”

I knew in my heart I’d never forget what happened. The image of the two young children screaming in terror after what just happened to their mother would stay with me in detail for as long as I walked the earth. But, hoping that my thoughts were a jumbled morass for Gustav to navigate through, I continued with my agreeable side.

“Yes, I believe it will help,” I said. He looked away briefly, allowing Mercel to pour the thimble-sized cup into his half-full goblet of blood. When he looked back at me, I sought to close the deal…to place an air-tight seal on an expert ‘thought misdirection’ while somewhere deeper in my mind I was seriously debating Mercel’s offer of escape. “I look forward to a more permanent home deeper in the Himalayas, like what Huangtian Dadi mentioned last month. Do we know yet when that will happen?”

He seemed impressed, and at first I thought it was because I had taken a keen interest in where we’d end up when our present stay ended. But then I remembered the same look when he watched Chanson rebuke Racco back in France, the night of my Relance de sang.

He either was impressed with my answer’s astuteness, or my convoluted sidetrack to distract him from attempting to peer deeper inside my psyche. Either possibility added up to the same thing: a big stinky pile of bullshit.

“You’ll know the answer to that question soon enough, I assure you, Txema.”

Coolly delivered response, and then he paused to look at Mercel again, who had not looked up since he finished pouring the alcohol into the vampire king’s goblet. Gustav let out a slight snicker and then was gone. His speed of movement is beyond a blur, which I found strangely comforting. The others always left a trace, which my eyes would try to follow in vain.
That’s
irritating.

“We’ll talk later,” I whispered to Mercel. He nodded ever so slightly that he heard me.

Carrying a plate loaded with food, I moved back toward the others, hoping to find a place to sit and eat. At the moment, they were all having a great time dancing and twirling in the air to an old Irish folksong played by two fiddler vampires and another playing what looked like a silver flute. The music was beautiful, although I looked for smoke to rise from the flute player’s hands, which it never did.

Suddenly another vampire stepped in front of me, blocking my path to the others. I recognized this one as one of the more lecherous voyeurs who continuously ‘touched’ himself during my Relance de sang, daring to come the closest to where he could clearly see Peter Worley slamming me in my nether region while my naked cousin, Chanson, hung on to my neck with her fangs. Fortunately, I blacked out before I saw what became of this other vamp’s self-pleasuring.

But, I never forgot the disdain he eyed me with then, which seemed even worse in his pompous leer now.

“So, what have we here?” he hissed, as he drew ever closer, the smell of partially digested blood on his breath and his French accent slurred as if he were drunk. Like most of the hostile looks I’d received that night, his eyes were drawn to my birthmark. I could almost feel his lurid fantasies that involved feasting violently upon my exposed neck. “Because of you and your kind, everything we had enjoyed went to hell back in our homeland, and now you have angered our hosts because you didn’t like what happened to some Asian slut blood-sack?”

I’m not sure if I even blinked, staring at this soulless idiot while my lower lip quivered. Hurt and seriously pissed. I didn’t know what to say to him, which seemed to anger him more. Everything after that moved very fast, and if I had been alone with this fiend, I’d not be typing any of this now.

In a split second, his hand came toward me, sharp fingernails flayed out like one big ninja star. I couldn’t move, but as it turned out, I didn’t have to. Garvan came out of nowhere and removed me from harm’s way, taking my goblet of fake wine in his hand without spilling more than a few drops. My dinner, however, went everywhere.

As for my attacker…he was on his knees, and at first I thought that Franz and Armando held him fast. But neither one touched him. They merely guarded the path to me. Another vampire held him down, with the edge of a long, sharp blade poised against the prone vampire’s neck. The blade glistened in the glow of the holiday lights as the stronger vampire pushed the blade into the other’s skin, drawing a thin line of blood.

It was Kazikli. He looked up at me with a wan smile on his face, as if he genuinely despised having to use brute force, but hated what had created this situation even more.

“I will let you up, and then you will leave…you will leave this palace and you will never come back,” he told the other vampire. “Otherwise, you will find your head lying next to your body, and the last thing you’ll ever experience is the horror of watching your entire essence disintegrate into a ball of flames. Am I clear?”

He pushed the blade, which protruded from the edge of his cane, deeper into the vampire’s skin when at first there was no response. That’s all it took to get this other vampire to acknowledge Kazikli’s warning, and he did so with an emphatic nod while a pained whine escaped his throat.

“Very good. Make sure I never see you again, and that means at any time or in any place. Otherwise, you will die, and before that, you will suffer horribly!”

Kazikli emphasized this last part with a menacing hiss in his voice. Then he lifted the vampire to his feet and turned him over to Franz and Armando to shove outside. As they approached the door, Gustav suddenly accosted them, and the vampire cowered in further fear. It made me wonder if the undead could get intoxicated on something like blood, since no way in hell would a sane and sober member of Gustav’s ensemble of vampires act inappropriately in his presence. The chance of ostracism or death would be too great a risk.