Undesirable: Chapter 11
TITLE: Undesirable (A vampire novel)
RATING: NC-17 (This chapter PG-13)
GENRE: Porn with plot -- heavy on the plot. Action/adventure, some black humor, some romance.
PAIRINGS: George x everyone. Mostly Slash, some het, three and moresomes. Vampire sex.
WARNINGS: (this chapter) none.
WORD COUNT: 6398
Chapter 11
Friday started on a bad note. By which I mean, I was still stuck in that princess bedroom on Nadette's enormous compound and the vast amount of time I believed I had to enact my cunning escape had somehow eroded to nothing.
Worse - I felt like total crap.
I woke up with a start, my heart thudding hard in my chest, and looked around wildly at my room. Blinking hard, I coughed around a dry throat and rubbed my tingling face. A headache tapped a catchy rhythm into the back of my skull, distracting me from the strange, unpleasant flavor in my mouth. All in all I had groggy, sour feeling in my stomach, like a morning hangover sans any alcohol the previous night.
Something was off. The angle of dim orange light sliding through the sheer lace curtains was wrong. It was very early or…
I glanced at the cutesy - kitschy alarm clock on the table near my bed. Goddamn it, it was already 6:23 pm. I'd slept through all of Friday. What the hell happened? I'd missed my 2 o'clock exercise aka my last dwindling hope of being able to escape this hellhole before the auction. Nighttime was coming down on me fast, and I was no closer to having a plan in place than I was on Tuesday when I decided I was going to run.
Shit, shit, shit. How could I have possibly overslept today of all days? Et tu body?
I heard a clinking sound in bathroom and sat up, shrugging the sheets up around my shoulders for modesty, which was at that point still something of a value. "Hello?" I called out nervously.
"Oh, good morning, George," called Claudia. I relaxed momentarily. Just Claudia -- a known evil. But even she wasn't quite right; instead of her usual chipper, her voice was laden with weariness. She stepped out of the bathroom a second later, looking rather haggard and tired. "You're finally awake. Good, I was getting a bit worried."
"Yeah," I said, rubbing my short hair, then pausing to lightly tug a hank. Even after a couple of days, I still hadn't become used to the feel of it. "Man, wow, I must have really conked out or something."
"Nah," said Claudia, moving over to the vanity and closing up a tool box. "You can blame me for that one: I slipped you a mickey in your 'midnight snack' to help you get a full night sleep. It's just as well you got it - you need to be wakeful and energetic until after dawn. The drug I gave you should all be flushed from your blood well before tasting starts. Don't worry, your flavor won't be spoiled."
Sometimes I wondered if Claudia wanted me to hate her.
"This may come as a complete surprise to you, but I'm not worried at all about my flavor being spoiled." I didn't bother to hide my annoyance. "You drugged me? That is so not right, you know. Even for you. I could have been allergic."
I half expected her to react like I'd said something cute, but she didn't laugh. She didn't react at all. Yeah something was definitely up with her.
She looked like ass, to be truthful. Her usually pristine make-up was missing, and her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail instead of the usual twist. She wiped under one eye with the back her wrist, then rubbed her hands against her sweats. I couldn't tell if she wanted to crawl into bed and take a nap or if she'd just heard some really crappy news. Either way, today probably wasn't a good day to test her.
"I don't suppose I'll get my exercise today?" It was a hope. Not a very big one.
Claudia rolled her head. "No, not today, I'm just too busy. Besides, not to be crass or anything, George, but you are going to get more than your fair share of exercise tonight." She paused and I got a glimpse of humanity from her. "For that you have my utmost sympathy. Truly."
I winced. Yeah, thanks for reminding me of why I'd lived in dread of this night. The only silver lining was that 10 hours from now it would all be over. The waiting game would be done, my new patron picked, and I could begin to work on a plan for my future.
Claudia lightly slapped the side of her face with the palm of her hand and sighed. "My god. There are going to be a dozen vampire guests. Yesterday I was told it would only be seven, this morning I find out the headcount has nearly doubled."
She sat heavily down on the base of my bed and hung her head. "You sure must taste like something, George."
"Believe me," I said fervently, "I'd make myself taste nasty if I could." A dozen. Add in Nadette and I had the brief but intense vision of myself splayed on a platter with the vampires huddled over me like some insane version of the last supper. The image made me feel a bit nauseated.
"Surely, she can't mean to have me Service twelve people," I reasoned in self-defense. "I'll run out of blood." Not to mention other bodily fluids. Nearly a week of chastity notwithstanding, I doubted I could "perform" twelve times in a row. Though the first attempt might not be that bad -- And no - bad thoughts! I'm not going to think of it, not going to, no… ow. I closed my knees and tried not to grab my crotch as a totally irrational and inappropriate erection fought and lost again to the evil, pee-colored plastic tube. Damn that thing was annoying. Whatever sadistic bastard thought this device up deserves to be kicked in the nuts.
"I don't know what Lady Nadette is arranging," Claudia replied, not noticing or perhaps just ignoring my sudden flinch of pain. "But I assure you, she will not allow them to drain you dry. My guess is that each of them will only get a sip of you at the tasting." Claudia patted the blanket over my leg. "I'm not here to scare you, George. Really, you'll be tired but okay."
She might not be there to scare me, but she was doing a pretty good job. Nonetheless, I managed to swallow my self-pity for a moment. Much as Claudia's my nemesis, I'd come to like her, or at the very least form some emotional attachment to her. Shades of Stockholm syndrome, perhaps. She's the only person I've spent any real time with this whole week, and I can believe, under other circumstances, she could be considered a decent person. It wasn't her fault that I was in this situation. Besides, it's always a good idea to have the "law" on your side.
"Looks like you aren't having a great day either," I said. Here, have an olive branch.
As I predicted she looked intensely grateful for the sympathy. "Today promises to be a headache for everyone. My god, George. I've had 7 hours of sleep in the last two days and I'll be lucky to get to sleep again before all these people are gone. I've spent all day today and most of yesterday converting everything imaginable into temporary bedrooms for all these people - because, don't you know, it's an insult to put a vampire up in a common hotel. And yet they absolutely must, must, must have at least six of their favorite harem with them. Add in the drivers and the clerks and security and the personal valets - at least I can kick them off to hotels - and suddenly we have almost a hundred and fifty picky-picky guests. It's a complete logistical nightmare." She let out a breath. "The pandemonium is going to start in about an hour. And somehow, I'm going to have to make sure nothing goes astray."
"And I thought today was going to be hard on me," I joked a bit. She laughed.
Then she seemed to collect herself a bit, "Oh, I'm just whining, George. But to make matters worse, one of my men is out with the flu, or so he says. I'm pretty damn sure the lazy jerk is just playing hooky. Really, he's a lousy liar. But I can't risk having a sick guy around all the guests. It would be a horrible incident if some high so-and-so's favorite got a sniffle."
"Vampires don't like sick harem?" I'd suspected this, what with all the medical checks before Service.
"It makes the blood taste bad," confirmed Claudia. "And drains it of its potency."
"Sooooo… I don't suppose you can have that flu guy come pay me a quick visit," I joked, but at the same time felt a slight yearning. Ridiculous… did I really want to be more miserable than I am now? And besides it would take a few days to actually catch anything.
I was unsurprised at Claudia's outrage. "And have to do all this over again in a couple of weeks when you are healthy? No way! I'll be glad when you are out of my hair, believe me." Suddenly realizing she might have been a bit less than tactful she followed it up with a backhanded compliment. "Don't get me wrong, George. I like you. I don't know why, because you are a pain in the butt, but you really grew on me."
"Charisma." I offered.
"Hmm?"
"Why people like me despite my being a jerk," I elaborated.
She gave me a wan smile. "You know, that might be it." She got up. "Well, I'm done pulling the cameras in here. And I got a thousand things that needed to be done three days ago, and I still have to shower and get dressed for the party, so." She gave my knee a squeeze. "I'll see you around."
"Wait… what? Cameras?" I noticed for the first time the junk she'd left on the vanity. It looked like unidentifiable electronic crap. My face suddenly flushed with indignation. "There were cameras in my room? Since when?"
Claudia raised a single eyebrow. "Since I learned that I had to baby sit a known runaway who had absolutely no reason to want to cooperate with me, and every reason to try make a dash for it the moment I had my back turned." She awarded me with a wry smile. "I meant it when I said you aren't escaping on my watch. I've got a bit of professional pride, you know. It might have been overkill, but better that than underestimating you."
But my head was still filtering in this new unpleasant information. "In the bathroom?! You folks watched me on the -- " indignation overcame me and I choked on my own spit. Sputtering, I went on, "Oh that is sooooo…" I reached for a word. "That's just wrong. Pure wrong! You better not have videotape of that or so help me -- "
She nodded her head yeah, yeah, yeah. Settle. "It was pointed at the window, not the toilet."
"And to think I was nice to you!" I groused.
"It was my job, George." She gathered her stuff together, during which time I watched her with an unforgiving glare. "But now that part of my job is done. And since it's a huge etiquette no-no to take pictures of our vampire guests while they feed, the cameras have to come out. So, now's your time to escape, George."
Did she mean that? No. She was teasing me.
"You got," she looked at her watch. "About five minutes to do it before your handlers show up." Then, giving a last half-hearted salute, she stepped through the door and locked it behind her.
I sat still, the sheet still wrapped around my shoulders, staring glumly at the shiny plate where a thumb latch should have been. Yeah ha, ha. Now was my time.
You know, maybe…
No. I'd already thought this through and come up with nothing: Considering the fact that the room wasn't originally meant to hold people against their will, it was damn near impregnable. The hinges were on the wrong side of the door and the lock was completely inaccessible from my side. My window was made of "burglar proof" security glass. If I had a hammer, which I didn't, it still promised to take at least twenty minutes to get through it. And even if I should have somehow passed those barriers, there was nothing in my room capable of holding an edge to cut the band on my anklet. I don't relish the thought of being tasered.
Goddamn her beautiful Amazonian competence, I was stuck.
Anyway, it wasn't five minutes. It was barely three. Five was the number of people it took to help me do the things my mother has insisted I do for myself since I was, coincidentally, also five. Shower. Dress. Teeth and other personal hygene matters - Christ, I know how to floss. All culminating in something my mother would probably disapprove of: donning make up.
Yes. Make up. Mabelline to be exact. In a pink little tube that kind of reminded me of pepto-bizmo. And if combing tar into my lashes weren't enough to make my eyes water, my make-up woman decided to chase after my corneas with a soft, smudgy coal-black eyeliner pencil.
"Christ woman," I complained at Thing 1, as I'd named that particular handler. "Do I really need this? I'm not going to be cross dressing, am I?"
All the girls giggled, and Thing 1 shooed away my hand so that she could work at jabbing the pencil into my other eye. "Hold still. Don't blink!" Finally she leaned back and appraised me with a goofy smile that couldn't have meant anything good.
I pulled my chin out of her hand and turned to look at my reflection in the vanity mirror. The effect was… oh she fucking had to be kidding -- "My god, woman, you've given me shiners! I look like a raccoon." I really did. It was horrifying. "I don't think this will make me sell better." On second thought…
"Tsk!" clucked Thing 1, twisting her face comically. She then wiped most of the mess away with a tissue leaving me looking more or less normal and wondering why she'd even bothered to put the make up on in the first place.
"Here we are," called a cheery voice from my closet. To my relief, Thing 2 turned around holding up, not a dress, but a tuxedo that I only vaguely remembered being there. Thing 1 tried to make a second pass with the eye-liner, but I pulled away to get a good look at the costume I'd be wearing as Thing 3 gave it a last, quick press using the foot of my bed as an ironing board. As fancy party clothes go, it was tasteful enough. Single breasted, black, with a pleated white shirt, and a row of silver buttons. All in all rather similar to what I imagined I'd wear if I were ever invited to a wedding - as the groom.
Already in a pair of expensive snazzy boxers and undershirt which might have passed for casual outer-wear in my old life, I finished dressing in the middle of the bedroom, with all three pretty girls helping strap the cummerbund straight.
Aw. Didn't I look just… special. Things 1 through 3 looked pleased with themselves.
Things 4 and 5 were as stony as always. They were both men. Big, muscled, burly men, of the sort I had been convinced Nadette would never hire just on basic principle. In the beginning, I found myself stealing glances in their direction to see if all this primping and being fussed over by women was lowering my guy-quotient in their eyes. After a while I'd given that up and ignored them. Apparently they weren't hired to have expressions, and the most I got out of them was a dull stare that would do the Queen's Guard proud. They didn't help the grooming in any way, and I imagined that their sole purpose was to keep me from making a dash for the unlocked door. Nice touch, Claudia.
The door opened again and I looked up, half expecting to see yet another woman to fuss with my appearance. But my heart skipped a beat and a I felt a wave of coldness in my stomach as my eyes fell on the petite blonde creature called Lady Nadette.
I hadn't seen her since the night she caught me, but I recognized her instantly, despite the more dramatic make up and a fussier hair style. Instead of the crisp lines of a skirt suit, she wore deep grey evening gown with what looked to be little seed pearls sewn in a scatter resembling stars. The fabric hugged her, but not tighty, and in fact seemed almost prudishly unrevealing. With matching gloves that covered all but a thin strip of flesh near her shoulders, only her face was left bare.
I had a brief but unpleasant flash-back to the last time we were together. The wee hours of Sunday morning, lying in a fetal ball, naked and sore, under the covers of the bed. I felt her sitting next to me, her weight making the mattress sag. I could smell her perfume - subtle and cool. Her fingers trailed delicately over the skin of my forehead, while I suffered through the itchy-maddening-painful sensation of her pilfering my life's story from my exhausted mind.
Standing, stone still in the middle of the room, I met her eyes again and flinched.
"Please," I begged, "Don't do this to me. Don't… don't humiliate me like this. I know I'm a runaway and don't deserve better, but even so… don't do this."
"Oh, do relax and stop groveling. I'm neither the boogy-man nor a sadist," said Nadette stepping further into the room. "I don't have the time nor the interest in punishing you for behavior that just so happens to benefit me greatly. I should think you'd be flattered you've generated this much interest. In any case, the time is overdue that you move on to a better home. The party has already begun. My guests are assembled. Can I trust you not to make a scene?"
I meant to say "of course" but my mouth somehow blurted "no." Then seeing her surprised reaction and realizing I'd misspoken, I clarified. "I mean, yes. No, I won't make a -"
I stopped speaking. Nadette walked away and I remained, staring hopelessly frozen into the void where her body used to be. Oh, fuck it.
"Lets go."
I followed Nadette to the main house like a reluctant dog being led on a leash. Oh there was no outer struggle. No foot dragging, no slouching, no clenched fists - to the party-goers mingling on the lawns, I must have seemed quite placidly accepting of my fate. But inside I had reached a nadir. My cheeks couldn't blush, but it didn't stop the humiliation I felt when even with all my strength I was no match for Nadette's casual hold on me. She didn't even bother to look over her shoulder to make sure I was there. Without the delirium of exhaustion, I had nothing to protect my ego from the crushing weight of my own obvious inferiority.
Fighting vampires is futile. Only a retard like me would think otherwise.
The one saving grace was that no one paid any attention to me whatsoever as we skirted the side of the main house, heading for the main entrance. Perhaps they didn't realize I was the man of the hour. Perhaps it was just that the underlings of vampires were used to ignoring everything that didn't directly concern them. The heads that turned as we passed only had eyes for Nadette.
As we passed through the double doors of the Main House, the party hit me like a wall of noise. In the close quarters of the hall, I caught only fragments of people around me. Shimmering satin, rhinestones, fur, large clunky gold rings on broad male hands. Wingtip shoes, and strappy heels. The slender necks of wine glasses being held between manicured fingers. And then we passed the crush and strode out into a largely empty, echoing chamber. It was as if some barrier held the crowd back to the far side of the wide archway dividing the grand salon in half. Some repellent force that only a scant handful of people seemed immune to.
Without being told, I walked to a lone, heavy, high-backed chair against the far wall of the room. I turned, my head stiffly facing forward, and sat. Someone I couldn't see very well scuttled up to my side and tightened something slim and hard around my left ankle. And then, like that, I was released to look around.
The first thing I did was look at my foot. Sure enough, latched over my pant leg was a steel shackle. From that, three feet of 3/8th chain snaked across the parquet, doubling back to the thick leg of the heavy chair, wrapping around once before the matching cuff was tightened down over the chain in a slip knot. Well so much for the idea of me mingling.
Nadette stood back and addressed the loose semicircle of people that had formed around me. "I present the find of the season, and the purpose of my party. A rare prime varietal and genuine unique."
They closed in, a double row of strange faces, in near matching black and satin and glitz, and I was struck by how ordinary they looked. Under any other circumstance, it wouldn't have occurred to me that they were vampires. They looked youngish, but not young, mid twenties to early forties if I had to guess, well dressed and groomed but with a strange almost humbling taint of the mundane about them. They could have been coworkers or clients at my workshops. They looked… human.
And this was a really silly revelation to be having, since I'd already met three vampires. But those three must have been unusual: Nadette really was a stunning knock-out, easily as attractive as her harem, and Marc with his bald head and his body builder physique had seemed larger than life. Even Jeffrey was naturally quite a bit more handsome than this lot. My eyes latched onto one of the men and realized that he looked rather like one of my college professors.
Ordinary or not their attention bore down on me like an attack, and even though I pride myself on my lack of stage-fright, I felt the butterflies go wild in my chest, and I just couldn't con myself into thinking that this was just excitement.
"Oh, he's so tiny and cute," said one of the women in exactly the same tone one might use to coo over a puppy. "Have him stand up. I think he might be shorter than me!" I stood up before Nadette could force me to, then took an involuntary step to the side when one of them jerked closer to peer at my face.
And then, like the flick of a switch, I couldn't see anything human at all about them. I felt their hunger, like the tense, hushed moments when a pack of wolves ring their prey but before the first frenzied bite. I was surrounded, my only retreat a paltry foot or two away from the chair. I could smell them, a heady mix of cologne and powder and perfumed soaps. I could even feel the heat off their bodies. I took another step back, and felt something solid and warm behind me. Before I could react an arm looped around my chest and I felt a chin rest on my head. "Adorable, I think it's a perfect fit."
Oh… boy… I thought I was prepared, but I wasn't. Not for this. Especially not when I felt the vampire shift behind me, and his tongue sweep a wet trail across the side of my neck. My unreasoning animal nature exploded. I went berserk, kicking back against his shin, twisting, awkwardly smashing my fist backwards, catching, I think, his ear. But there was no weight behind my punch and he just snuggled me in closer, not bothering to hold my mind, simply using his strength to keep in position.
My whole body shuddered and my arms and legs crawled with gooseflesh even though I wasn't cold. Breathing quick and shallow I forced myself to relax, in hopes that whoever had me would do the same. The man's arms shifted, pulled me in a tighter and more intimate embrace, and I felt again his lips moving softly against the narrow band of bare flesh below my ear.
To my horror, my cock twitched in its cage like some pavlovian dog. It seemed even the faintest hint of opportunity was enough to wake up that embarrassingly renegade body part. It was needy. It was deprived. It wanted sex, and apparently it wasn't being fussy about how, or where, or with whom. I'm not one of these sex addicts who wank off six times a day, but I'm not a monk either. It had been almost exactly a week since the last time I'd gotten off. For the first time I actually felt a bit grateful for the chastity tube -- at least I wouldn't be embarrassed by a hard on.
The vampire behind me breathed in deeply. "It's faint, but I can smell his blood. Mmm. Fascinating." I felt his mouth close on the side of my throat, not quite biting, but letting me know he had teeth. One hand slipped from my chest to grab at my crotch.
"Let him go, Gregory," said Nadette very sternly. "He's not yours yet, and the tasting won't be until later. You know the agenda. There is no excuse for this."
"Oh, but it's inevitable," he murmured into my neck. "I've decided. Must we go through all the boring formalities? And what is this thing you have him in?" His hand poked around at my crotch, feeling me up through my clothes.
"A bit of protection, to make sure the night goes off without a hitch," said Nadette. "Back off, Greg, or I won't let you bid on him at all. You know I mean that."
I was released, and suddenly there was no one behind me. Taking his place amongst the others with a shrug and a smirk was a dark skinned man of uncertain ethnicity, with a short mop of blindingly shiny black curls. This was the Gregory of Los Angeles, the buck stopper of the film industry. I couldn't decide if I was grateful for his interest or alarmed. On one hand, should he win the auction, Los Angeles isn't far away from Portland, and that had … possibilities. On the other hand, wasn't this the same guy Nadette worried would put claw marks in her halls? He seemed a bit unstable.
The others seemed thoroughly annoyed with him, but before they could do more than lightly protest the inevitability of my going to Gregory, there was a bit of a stir from another quarter.
"Hold on," said Nadette, shushing the others with a raised hand. She looked over at the wide arching entrance to the other salon, where the noise of the party had dimmed just slightly. "Claudia? Is there a problem?"
I looked past a woman's shoulder to see Claudia standing on the threshold, in a fancy, glittery pants suit. She looked a lot better than she had a couple of hours earlier. Refreshed even. God only knows what pharmaceuticals she'd given to herself. Her expression, on the other hand, was pure worry - something was amiss.
"My lady," she said. "Did you invite Lord Jeffrey?"
"No." Nadette frowned. Then she rolled her eyes with annoyance. "Oh, for heaven's sake. Try to keep him -no. Never mind. You stay here, I'll deal with this, where is he?"
"Here I am!" said Lord Jeffrey in a light, oafishly eager voice. The crowd parted and a tall lean man in an impeccable tuxedo stepped forward into the room. I'd forgotten how gangly he was. He moved about with an odd grace. His face was one huge shit-eating grin. I honestly couldn't decide if I were relieved or horrified to see him.
"What's this? I believe I heard my name, and oh yes, Nadette! There you are, my dear, my love," said Jeffrey, crossing the room in long strides and suddenly wrapping his arms around her. Nadette winced a little as he pecked at her cheeks like a long lost cousin.
"What a fabulous party!" he said gazing about. "Oh, I love parties. And look at all of you, my you look fine tonight. So tastefully understated -- if you have it, there's really no need to flaunt it. Like a guessing game, are you the honored guests or are you the help? Only the worthy will know."
Several of the vampires made disapproving noises at that, but Jeffrey simply spoke over them. "And why, do my eyes detect a theme? Everyone here's a Eugenist."
My ears perked up. I'd heard this word before a few times, but it held no meaning for me and I hadn't been curious enough to ask.
"Tell me, will there be political talk? I've always been terribly curious about what a Eugenist caucus would be like, but no one has ever invited me to one. You'd think it were an exclusive club or something."
"Jeffrey-" snapped Nadette.
"-- Gregory," interrupted Jeffrey, latching on to a new target. "It's been months. I must say I find your agenda for the film industry to be absolutely fascinating. Better living through propaganda, am I right?"
Gregory frowned. "Do I know you?"
"Anna!" Jeffrey suddenly squealed, rounding his attention on the plainest and oldest looking of the group. "You know the reports don't nearly do you justice. You look absolutely smashing. I'm sure Nadette has a private spot where we could perhaps tete-a-tete a little later." He winked lasciviously. Anna looked stunned as if she were trying to figure out if Jeffrey were complimenting her or not.
"Jeffrey!" Nadette repeated, this time sharper.
"Nadette!" he spun on her with a look of mock contrition, "I'm absolutely ashamed to say that my support staff lost your invitation. They've been doing a lot of that sort of thing lately," he gave me a pointed look.
I froze. Our eyes met for only a fraction of a second but it seemed in that moment reams of information were passed. I felt a wave of shame for running from him. A surge of humiliation that I'd been caught. And now he was here, to what? Gloat? Buy me back? Get revenge?
His eyes seemed in that fraction of a second not to be nearly as foppishly merry as his words and body language. In that moment he looked old, and strangely wise, and sad, like he knew where I'd been and why I'd done what I did, and was seeing it all as the mistakes of innocence.
And then he winked.
Before I could even guess at what that meant, his attention was back on Nadette. "I'm ever so sorry to be late, but the important thing is that I came, isn't it?" Although he was smiling with his mouth, his eyes were cool. "After all, we wouldn't be having a party if not for the fact that I discovered this lovely little morsel. You were, of course, going to credit me with the find."
Nadette was speechless.
Hesitantly, one of the other vampires spoke up. "Is… this… the entertainment you spoke of earlier?"
That broke Nadette from whatever reverie she'd been trapped in. "No. This decidedly isn't. Listen, Jeffrey -"
But Jeffrey's attention had already moved and he was clasping the reluctant hand of a tall gaunt looking black vampire. "Sydney, my condolences about Rwanda. Terrible to do, terrible. Who would have thought that Hutu's could hate Tutsi's so much."
"You make more of it than there was," said Sydney smoothly, showing absolutely no emotion whatsoever. "It was nothing, little more than a riot, swiftly struck down. The anger runs deep, but they will learn to accept each other soon enough."
"Oh," said Jeffrey, surprised. "I heard it was a bit more than that, but what do I know, I wasn't there. Hey, perhaps you can use Gregory's services. A few films might be just what is needed to reeducate the masses out of that pesky genocidal behavior."
"Perhaps." He looked down his nose a little, and I realized that Sydney was actually several inches taller than Jeffrey, making him something of a giant. "And you have thoughts on how best to manage ethnic tensions?" he said. "You are a Wilderist, no?"
"Jeffrey," interrupted Nadette. "I did not invite you, and you are being disruptive and rude to my guests. I'm going to have to ask you to go."
Jeffrey just stopped. It was odd to see so much energy suddenly becoming still. There was threat in it, like an explosion just waiting to happen. Or that moment before a tornado actually touches down.
"Another thing that you neglected to do is let me pay the finders fee." His voice was calm, but cutting.
The other vampires recoiled as if this were some sort of major faux pas, but Nadette stood rock solid. "So I didn't," she acknowledged. "The finder's fee is merely a courtesy, not an given, Jeffrey."
Jeffrey turned his head slightly to the side but kept his eyes fixed on Nadette. I felt my stomach tense at the show down. Perhaps there would be scratches in the walls after all.
"It seems strange to me that a Eugenist of your stature would decide to suddenly turn your back on one of the most treasured and relied upon Eugenist traditions." His voice was slow and deliberate, and icy cold. "You are the people who decided that we should set ourselves up as stewards. You are the ones who came up with this way to manage resources. The color schemes, the cards, the permissions, that's not Wilderist policy, that's from you."
Nadette's eyes narrowed in a way that reeked of condescension. "Even the most unprincipled Wilderists agree that there needs to be some stability in the populous. And I fail to see your point."
"--And yet you slaughter one of your own sacred cows the moment it becomes inconvenient to you. What does that say about your principals?"
"It says nothing, because this is not a simple run away." Nadette drew herself up and addressed her guests more than Jeffrey. "He's a unique, a White, and you think I would just turn him over to you for a few thousand dollars? You, who couldn't even keep him in your territory for a single day?"
Jeffrey looked pointedly at my leg, "It's true, it totally escaped me that I was supposed to keep my harem chained in place. I had this little idea that he would actually obey the law, or at least have some small sense of self-preservation. I was wrong." His eyes narrowed. "But do you," he swept around, "Any of you, honestly think you would have done differently?"
Nadette didn't give an inch. "The point is, he was in your possession for no more than a few hours, while I've held him for the better part of a week and invested considerable resources into him. By any measure, your claim to him is so weak as to be almost nonexistant."
"Weak? He didn't just move into my territory, Nadette," said Jeffrey in a low voice. "He didn't just appear on my registry. He was miscategorized as Black. Do you honestly think, you or any of these people would have bothered to drink something that advertised itself as puke? Like it or not, Nadette, without me - and only me - you would not have a White to sell, and he would have gone wasted."
"Nadette," said Gregory uncomfortably. "He is right. If we abandon the finders fee, it would mean chaos. I will not sink my money into a runner if I can't be assured that he will remain mine until I choose to sell him."
Nadette stiffened. "Very well. But I believe everyone here will agree that he is worth more than a meager five thousand - I spent more than that on his room and board."
"I will pay more - within reason," said Jeffrey.
A smug smile crossed her lips. "Well then, how about no money at all? How about instead a quid pro quo? I shall give you your errant White back, apologize to my assembled guests and even pay their travel expenses for having wasted their time."
"And in return?" Jeffrey seemed dubious.
"I want your submission. To me. For five years." Her grin was insufferable.
It was Jeffrey's turn to recoil. The look on his face was pure disgust.
Nadette continued. "It's a minimal amount of time, and I wouldn't interfere with your harem - nor would I insist you merge your assets into mine. You would work for me, be my voice in the Chicago parliament. Help pass my agendas, my edicts, my laws. Bring Chicago over to the Eugenist camp. And who knows, perhaps in those five years it will stop being an act, and you will truly come to embrace our philosophy. Wilderism is an idea of the past. Vampires rule this world and that is never going to change. It's our job to do so responsibly."
Nadette looked around, "We have plenty of witnesses to testify that you entered into this bond of your own free will, there is no reason you can't make your vows here. Now."
Jeffrey looked at me - a brief look, tinged with guilt. Then his lips tightened. "I would sooner let you feed off my blood than submit to you."
Nadette's smile didn't fade. This was obviously the response she preferred. "Well then. Let all note that the finder's price was rejected." She met my eye with a look of total satisfaction. "It appears there will be an auction after all."
Back to chapter 10
On to Chapter 12
RATING: NC-17 (This chapter PG-13)
GENRE: Porn with plot -- heavy on the plot. Action/adventure, some black humor, some romance.
PAIRINGS: George x everyone. Mostly Slash, some het, three and moresomes. Vampire sex.
WARNINGS: (this chapter) none.
WORD COUNT: 6398
Chapter 11
Friday started on a bad note. By which I mean, I was still stuck in that princess bedroom on Nadette's enormous compound and the vast amount of time I believed I had to enact my cunning escape had somehow eroded to nothing.
Worse - I felt like total crap.
I woke up with a start, my heart thudding hard in my chest, and looked around wildly at my room. Blinking hard, I coughed around a dry throat and rubbed my tingling face. A headache tapped a catchy rhythm into the back of my skull, distracting me from the strange, unpleasant flavor in my mouth. All in all I had groggy, sour feeling in my stomach, like a morning hangover sans any alcohol the previous night.
Something was off. The angle of dim orange light sliding through the sheer lace curtains was wrong. It was very early or…
I glanced at the cutesy - kitschy alarm clock on the table near my bed. Goddamn it, it was already 6:23 pm. I'd slept through all of Friday. What the hell happened? I'd missed my 2 o'clock exercise aka my last dwindling hope of being able to escape this hellhole before the auction. Nighttime was coming down on me fast, and I was no closer to having a plan in place than I was on Tuesday when I decided I was going to run.
Shit, shit, shit. How could I have possibly overslept today of all days? Et tu body?
I heard a clinking sound in bathroom and sat up, shrugging the sheets up around my shoulders for modesty, which was at that point still something of a value. "Hello?" I called out nervously.
"Oh, good morning, George," called Claudia. I relaxed momentarily. Just Claudia -- a known evil. But even she wasn't quite right; instead of her usual chipper, her voice was laden with weariness. She stepped out of the bathroom a second later, looking rather haggard and tired. "You're finally awake. Good, I was getting a bit worried."
"Yeah," I said, rubbing my short hair, then pausing to lightly tug a hank. Even after a couple of days, I still hadn't become used to the feel of it. "Man, wow, I must have really conked out or something."
"Nah," said Claudia, moving over to the vanity and closing up a tool box. "You can blame me for that one: I slipped you a mickey in your 'midnight snack' to help you get a full night sleep. It's just as well you got it - you need to be wakeful and energetic until after dawn. The drug I gave you should all be flushed from your blood well before tasting starts. Don't worry, your flavor won't be spoiled."
Sometimes I wondered if Claudia wanted me to hate her.
"This may come as a complete surprise to you, but I'm not worried at all about my flavor being spoiled." I didn't bother to hide my annoyance. "You drugged me? That is so not right, you know. Even for you. I could have been allergic."
I half expected her to react like I'd said something cute, but she didn't laugh. She didn't react at all. Yeah something was definitely up with her.
She looked like ass, to be truthful. Her usually pristine make-up was missing, and her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail instead of the usual twist. She wiped under one eye with the back her wrist, then rubbed her hands against her sweats. I couldn't tell if she wanted to crawl into bed and take a nap or if she'd just heard some really crappy news. Either way, today probably wasn't a good day to test her.
"I don't suppose I'll get my exercise today?" It was a hope. Not a very big one.
Claudia rolled her head. "No, not today, I'm just too busy. Besides, not to be crass or anything, George, but you are going to get more than your fair share of exercise tonight." She paused and I got a glimpse of humanity from her. "For that you have my utmost sympathy. Truly."
I winced. Yeah, thanks for reminding me of why I'd lived in dread of this night. The only silver lining was that 10 hours from now it would all be over. The waiting game would be done, my new patron picked, and I could begin to work on a plan for my future.
Claudia lightly slapped the side of her face with the palm of her hand and sighed. "My god. There are going to be a dozen vampire guests. Yesterday I was told it would only be seven, this morning I find out the headcount has nearly doubled."
She sat heavily down on the base of my bed and hung her head. "You sure must taste like something, George."
"Believe me," I said fervently, "I'd make myself taste nasty if I could." A dozen. Add in Nadette and I had the brief but intense vision of myself splayed on a platter with the vampires huddled over me like some insane version of the last supper. The image made me feel a bit nauseated.
"Surely, she can't mean to have me Service twelve people," I reasoned in self-defense. "I'll run out of blood." Not to mention other bodily fluids. Nearly a week of chastity notwithstanding, I doubted I could "perform" twelve times in a row. Though the first attempt might not be that bad -- And no - bad thoughts! I'm not going to think of it, not going to, no… ow. I closed my knees and tried not to grab my crotch as a totally irrational and inappropriate erection fought and lost again to the evil, pee-colored plastic tube. Damn that thing was annoying. Whatever sadistic bastard thought this device up deserves to be kicked in the nuts.
"I don't know what Lady Nadette is arranging," Claudia replied, not noticing or perhaps just ignoring my sudden flinch of pain. "But I assure you, she will not allow them to drain you dry. My guess is that each of them will only get a sip of you at the tasting." Claudia patted the blanket over my leg. "I'm not here to scare you, George. Really, you'll be tired but okay."
She might not be there to scare me, but she was doing a pretty good job. Nonetheless, I managed to swallow my self-pity for a moment. Much as Claudia's my nemesis, I'd come to like her, or at the very least form some emotional attachment to her. Shades of Stockholm syndrome, perhaps. She's the only person I've spent any real time with this whole week, and I can believe, under other circumstances, she could be considered a decent person. It wasn't her fault that I was in this situation. Besides, it's always a good idea to have the "law" on your side.
"Looks like you aren't having a great day either," I said. Here, have an olive branch.
As I predicted she looked intensely grateful for the sympathy. "Today promises to be a headache for everyone. My god, George. I've had 7 hours of sleep in the last two days and I'll be lucky to get to sleep again before all these people are gone. I've spent all day today and most of yesterday converting everything imaginable into temporary bedrooms for all these people - because, don't you know, it's an insult to put a vampire up in a common hotel. And yet they absolutely must, must, must have at least six of their favorite harem with them. Add in the drivers and the clerks and security and the personal valets - at least I can kick them off to hotels - and suddenly we have almost a hundred and fifty picky-picky guests. It's a complete logistical nightmare." She let out a breath. "The pandemonium is going to start in about an hour. And somehow, I'm going to have to make sure nothing goes astray."
"And I thought today was going to be hard on me," I joked a bit. She laughed.
Then she seemed to collect herself a bit, "Oh, I'm just whining, George. But to make matters worse, one of my men is out with the flu, or so he says. I'm pretty damn sure the lazy jerk is just playing hooky. Really, he's a lousy liar. But I can't risk having a sick guy around all the guests. It would be a horrible incident if some high so-and-so's favorite got a sniffle."
"Vampires don't like sick harem?" I'd suspected this, what with all the medical checks before Service.
"It makes the blood taste bad," confirmed Claudia. "And drains it of its potency."
"Sooooo… I don't suppose you can have that flu guy come pay me a quick visit," I joked, but at the same time felt a slight yearning. Ridiculous… did I really want to be more miserable than I am now? And besides it would take a few days to actually catch anything.
I was unsurprised at Claudia's outrage. "And have to do all this over again in a couple of weeks when you are healthy? No way! I'll be glad when you are out of my hair, believe me." Suddenly realizing she might have been a bit less than tactful she followed it up with a backhanded compliment. "Don't get me wrong, George. I like you. I don't know why, because you are a pain in the butt, but you really grew on me."
"Charisma." I offered.
"Hmm?"
"Why people like me despite my being a jerk," I elaborated.
She gave me a wan smile. "You know, that might be it." She got up. "Well, I'm done pulling the cameras in here. And I got a thousand things that needed to be done three days ago, and I still have to shower and get dressed for the party, so." She gave my knee a squeeze. "I'll see you around."
"Wait… what? Cameras?" I noticed for the first time the junk she'd left on the vanity. It looked like unidentifiable electronic crap. My face suddenly flushed with indignation. "There were cameras in my room? Since when?"
Claudia raised a single eyebrow. "Since I learned that I had to baby sit a known runaway who had absolutely no reason to want to cooperate with me, and every reason to try make a dash for it the moment I had my back turned." She awarded me with a wry smile. "I meant it when I said you aren't escaping on my watch. I've got a bit of professional pride, you know. It might have been overkill, but better that than underestimating you."
But my head was still filtering in this new unpleasant information. "In the bathroom?! You folks watched me on the -- " indignation overcame me and I choked on my own spit. Sputtering, I went on, "Oh that is sooooo…" I reached for a word. "That's just wrong. Pure wrong! You better not have videotape of that or so help me -- "
She nodded her head yeah, yeah, yeah. Settle. "It was pointed at the window, not the toilet."
"And to think I was nice to you!" I groused.
"It was my job, George." She gathered her stuff together, during which time I watched her with an unforgiving glare. "But now that part of my job is done. And since it's a huge etiquette no-no to take pictures of our vampire guests while they feed, the cameras have to come out. So, now's your time to escape, George."
Did she mean that? No. She was teasing me.
"You got," she looked at her watch. "About five minutes to do it before your handlers show up." Then, giving a last half-hearted salute, she stepped through the door and locked it behind her.
I sat still, the sheet still wrapped around my shoulders, staring glumly at the shiny plate where a thumb latch should have been. Yeah ha, ha. Now was my time.
You know, maybe…
No. I'd already thought this through and come up with nothing: Considering the fact that the room wasn't originally meant to hold people against their will, it was damn near impregnable. The hinges were on the wrong side of the door and the lock was completely inaccessible from my side. My window was made of "burglar proof" security glass. If I had a hammer, which I didn't, it still promised to take at least twenty minutes to get through it. And even if I should have somehow passed those barriers, there was nothing in my room capable of holding an edge to cut the band on my anklet. I don't relish the thought of being tasered.
Goddamn her beautiful Amazonian competence, I was stuck.
Anyway, it wasn't five minutes. It was barely three. Five was the number of people it took to help me do the things my mother has insisted I do for myself since I was, coincidentally, also five. Shower. Dress. Teeth and other personal hygene matters - Christ, I know how to floss. All culminating in something my mother would probably disapprove of: donning make up.
Yes. Make up. Mabelline to be exact. In a pink little tube that kind of reminded me of pepto-bizmo. And if combing tar into my lashes weren't enough to make my eyes water, my make-up woman decided to chase after my corneas with a soft, smudgy coal-black eyeliner pencil.
"Christ woman," I complained at Thing 1, as I'd named that particular handler. "Do I really need this? I'm not going to be cross dressing, am I?"
All the girls giggled, and Thing 1 shooed away my hand so that she could work at jabbing the pencil into my other eye. "Hold still. Don't blink!" Finally she leaned back and appraised me with a goofy smile that couldn't have meant anything good.
I pulled my chin out of her hand and turned to look at my reflection in the vanity mirror. The effect was… oh she fucking had to be kidding -- "My god, woman, you've given me shiners! I look like a raccoon." I really did. It was horrifying. "I don't think this will make me sell better." On second thought…
"Tsk!" clucked Thing 1, twisting her face comically. She then wiped most of the mess away with a tissue leaving me looking more or less normal and wondering why she'd even bothered to put the make up on in the first place.
"Here we are," called a cheery voice from my closet. To my relief, Thing 2 turned around holding up, not a dress, but a tuxedo that I only vaguely remembered being there. Thing 1 tried to make a second pass with the eye-liner, but I pulled away to get a good look at the costume I'd be wearing as Thing 3 gave it a last, quick press using the foot of my bed as an ironing board. As fancy party clothes go, it was tasteful enough. Single breasted, black, with a pleated white shirt, and a row of silver buttons. All in all rather similar to what I imagined I'd wear if I were ever invited to a wedding - as the groom.
Already in a pair of expensive snazzy boxers and undershirt which might have passed for casual outer-wear in my old life, I finished dressing in the middle of the bedroom, with all three pretty girls helping strap the cummerbund straight.
Aw. Didn't I look just… special. Things 1 through 3 looked pleased with themselves.
Things 4 and 5 were as stony as always. They were both men. Big, muscled, burly men, of the sort I had been convinced Nadette would never hire just on basic principle. In the beginning, I found myself stealing glances in their direction to see if all this primping and being fussed over by women was lowering my guy-quotient in their eyes. After a while I'd given that up and ignored them. Apparently they weren't hired to have expressions, and the most I got out of them was a dull stare that would do the Queen's Guard proud. They didn't help the grooming in any way, and I imagined that their sole purpose was to keep me from making a dash for the unlocked door. Nice touch, Claudia.
The door opened again and I looked up, half expecting to see yet another woman to fuss with my appearance. But my heart skipped a beat and a I felt a wave of coldness in my stomach as my eyes fell on the petite blonde creature called Lady Nadette.
I hadn't seen her since the night she caught me, but I recognized her instantly, despite the more dramatic make up and a fussier hair style. Instead of the crisp lines of a skirt suit, she wore deep grey evening gown with what looked to be little seed pearls sewn in a scatter resembling stars. The fabric hugged her, but not tighty, and in fact seemed almost prudishly unrevealing. With matching gloves that covered all but a thin strip of flesh near her shoulders, only her face was left bare.
I had a brief but unpleasant flash-back to the last time we were together. The wee hours of Sunday morning, lying in a fetal ball, naked and sore, under the covers of the bed. I felt her sitting next to me, her weight making the mattress sag. I could smell her perfume - subtle and cool. Her fingers trailed delicately over the skin of my forehead, while I suffered through the itchy-maddening-painful sensation of her pilfering my life's story from my exhausted mind.
Standing, stone still in the middle of the room, I met her eyes again and flinched.
"Please," I begged, "Don't do this to me. Don't… don't humiliate me like this. I know I'm a runaway and don't deserve better, but even so… don't do this."
"Oh, do relax and stop groveling. I'm neither the boogy-man nor a sadist," said Nadette stepping further into the room. "I don't have the time nor the interest in punishing you for behavior that just so happens to benefit me greatly. I should think you'd be flattered you've generated this much interest. In any case, the time is overdue that you move on to a better home. The party has already begun. My guests are assembled. Can I trust you not to make a scene?"
I meant to say "of course" but my mouth somehow blurted "no." Then seeing her surprised reaction and realizing I'd misspoken, I clarified. "I mean, yes. No, I won't make a -"
I stopped speaking. Nadette walked away and I remained, staring hopelessly frozen into the void where her body used to be. Oh, fuck it.
"Lets go."
I followed Nadette to the main house like a reluctant dog being led on a leash. Oh there was no outer struggle. No foot dragging, no slouching, no clenched fists - to the party-goers mingling on the lawns, I must have seemed quite placidly accepting of my fate. But inside I had reached a nadir. My cheeks couldn't blush, but it didn't stop the humiliation I felt when even with all my strength I was no match for Nadette's casual hold on me. She didn't even bother to look over her shoulder to make sure I was there. Without the delirium of exhaustion, I had nothing to protect my ego from the crushing weight of my own obvious inferiority.
Fighting vampires is futile. Only a retard like me would think otherwise.
The one saving grace was that no one paid any attention to me whatsoever as we skirted the side of the main house, heading for the main entrance. Perhaps they didn't realize I was the man of the hour. Perhaps it was just that the underlings of vampires were used to ignoring everything that didn't directly concern them. The heads that turned as we passed only had eyes for Nadette.
As we passed through the double doors of the Main House, the party hit me like a wall of noise. In the close quarters of the hall, I caught only fragments of people around me. Shimmering satin, rhinestones, fur, large clunky gold rings on broad male hands. Wingtip shoes, and strappy heels. The slender necks of wine glasses being held between manicured fingers. And then we passed the crush and strode out into a largely empty, echoing chamber. It was as if some barrier held the crowd back to the far side of the wide archway dividing the grand salon in half. Some repellent force that only a scant handful of people seemed immune to.
Without being told, I walked to a lone, heavy, high-backed chair against the far wall of the room. I turned, my head stiffly facing forward, and sat. Someone I couldn't see very well scuttled up to my side and tightened something slim and hard around my left ankle. And then, like that, I was released to look around.
The first thing I did was look at my foot. Sure enough, latched over my pant leg was a steel shackle. From that, three feet of 3/8th chain snaked across the parquet, doubling back to the thick leg of the heavy chair, wrapping around once before the matching cuff was tightened down over the chain in a slip knot. Well so much for the idea of me mingling.
Nadette stood back and addressed the loose semicircle of people that had formed around me. "I present the find of the season, and the purpose of my party. A rare prime varietal and genuine unique."
They closed in, a double row of strange faces, in near matching black and satin and glitz, and I was struck by how ordinary they looked. Under any other circumstance, it wouldn't have occurred to me that they were vampires. They looked youngish, but not young, mid twenties to early forties if I had to guess, well dressed and groomed but with a strange almost humbling taint of the mundane about them. They could have been coworkers or clients at my workshops. They looked… human.
And this was a really silly revelation to be having, since I'd already met three vampires. But those three must have been unusual: Nadette really was a stunning knock-out, easily as attractive as her harem, and Marc with his bald head and his body builder physique had seemed larger than life. Even Jeffrey was naturally quite a bit more handsome than this lot. My eyes latched onto one of the men and realized that he looked rather like one of my college professors.
Ordinary or not their attention bore down on me like an attack, and even though I pride myself on my lack of stage-fright, I felt the butterflies go wild in my chest, and I just couldn't con myself into thinking that this was just excitement.
"Oh, he's so tiny and cute," said one of the women in exactly the same tone one might use to coo over a puppy. "Have him stand up. I think he might be shorter than me!" I stood up before Nadette could force me to, then took an involuntary step to the side when one of them jerked closer to peer at my face.
And then, like the flick of a switch, I couldn't see anything human at all about them. I felt their hunger, like the tense, hushed moments when a pack of wolves ring their prey but before the first frenzied bite. I was surrounded, my only retreat a paltry foot or two away from the chair. I could smell them, a heady mix of cologne and powder and perfumed soaps. I could even feel the heat off their bodies. I took another step back, and felt something solid and warm behind me. Before I could react an arm looped around my chest and I felt a chin rest on my head. "Adorable, I think it's a perfect fit."
Oh… boy… I thought I was prepared, but I wasn't. Not for this. Especially not when I felt the vampire shift behind me, and his tongue sweep a wet trail across the side of my neck. My unreasoning animal nature exploded. I went berserk, kicking back against his shin, twisting, awkwardly smashing my fist backwards, catching, I think, his ear. But there was no weight behind my punch and he just snuggled me in closer, not bothering to hold my mind, simply using his strength to keep in position.
My whole body shuddered and my arms and legs crawled with gooseflesh even though I wasn't cold. Breathing quick and shallow I forced myself to relax, in hopes that whoever had me would do the same. The man's arms shifted, pulled me in a tighter and more intimate embrace, and I felt again his lips moving softly against the narrow band of bare flesh below my ear.
To my horror, my cock twitched in its cage like some pavlovian dog. It seemed even the faintest hint of opportunity was enough to wake up that embarrassingly renegade body part. It was needy. It was deprived. It wanted sex, and apparently it wasn't being fussy about how, or where, or with whom. I'm not one of these sex addicts who wank off six times a day, but I'm not a monk either. It had been almost exactly a week since the last time I'd gotten off. For the first time I actually felt a bit grateful for the chastity tube -- at least I wouldn't be embarrassed by a hard on.
The vampire behind me breathed in deeply. "It's faint, but I can smell his blood. Mmm. Fascinating." I felt his mouth close on the side of my throat, not quite biting, but letting me know he had teeth. One hand slipped from my chest to grab at my crotch.
"Let him go, Gregory," said Nadette very sternly. "He's not yours yet, and the tasting won't be until later. You know the agenda. There is no excuse for this."
"Oh, but it's inevitable," he murmured into my neck. "I've decided. Must we go through all the boring formalities? And what is this thing you have him in?" His hand poked around at my crotch, feeling me up through my clothes.
"A bit of protection, to make sure the night goes off without a hitch," said Nadette. "Back off, Greg, or I won't let you bid on him at all. You know I mean that."
I was released, and suddenly there was no one behind me. Taking his place amongst the others with a shrug and a smirk was a dark skinned man of uncertain ethnicity, with a short mop of blindingly shiny black curls. This was the Gregory of Los Angeles, the buck stopper of the film industry. I couldn't decide if I was grateful for his interest or alarmed. On one hand, should he win the auction, Los Angeles isn't far away from Portland, and that had … possibilities. On the other hand, wasn't this the same guy Nadette worried would put claw marks in her halls? He seemed a bit unstable.
The others seemed thoroughly annoyed with him, but before they could do more than lightly protest the inevitability of my going to Gregory, there was a bit of a stir from another quarter.
"Hold on," said Nadette, shushing the others with a raised hand. She looked over at the wide arching entrance to the other salon, where the noise of the party had dimmed just slightly. "Claudia? Is there a problem?"
I looked past a woman's shoulder to see Claudia standing on the threshold, in a fancy, glittery pants suit. She looked a lot better than she had a couple of hours earlier. Refreshed even. God only knows what pharmaceuticals she'd given to herself. Her expression, on the other hand, was pure worry - something was amiss.
"My lady," she said. "Did you invite Lord Jeffrey?"
"No." Nadette frowned. Then she rolled her eyes with annoyance. "Oh, for heaven's sake. Try to keep him -no. Never mind. You stay here, I'll deal with this, where is he?"
"Here I am!" said Lord Jeffrey in a light, oafishly eager voice. The crowd parted and a tall lean man in an impeccable tuxedo stepped forward into the room. I'd forgotten how gangly he was. He moved about with an odd grace. His face was one huge shit-eating grin. I honestly couldn't decide if I were relieved or horrified to see him.
"What's this? I believe I heard my name, and oh yes, Nadette! There you are, my dear, my love," said Jeffrey, crossing the room in long strides and suddenly wrapping his arms around her. Nadette winced a little as he pecked at her cheeks like a long lost cousin.
"What a fabulous party!" he said gazing about. "Oh, I love parties. And look at all of you, my you look fine tonight. So tastefully understated -- if you have it, there's really no need to flaunt it. Like a guessing game, are you the honored guests or are you the help? Only the worthy will know."
Several of the vampires made disapproving noises at that, but Jeffrey simply spoke over them. "And why, do my eyes detect a theme? Everyone here's a Eugenist."
My ears perked up. I'd heard this word before a few times, but it held no meaning for me and I hadn't been curious enough to ask.
"Tell me, will there be political talk? I've always been terribly curious about what a Eugenist caucus would be like, but no one has ever invited me to one. You'd think it were an exclusive club or something."
"Jeffrey-" snapped Nadette.
"-- Gregory," interrupted Jeffrey, latching on to a new target. "It's been months. I must say I find your agenda for the film industry to be absolutely fascinating. Better living through propaganda, am I right?"
Gregory frowned. "Do I know you?"
"Anna!" Jeffrey suddenly squealed, rounding his attention on the plainest and oldest looking of the group. "You know the reports don't nearly do you justice. You look absolutely smashing. I'm sure Nadette has a private spot where we could perhaps tete-a-tete a little later." He winked lasciviously. Anna looked stunned as if she were trying to figure out if Jeffrey were complimenting her or not.
"Jeffrey!" Nadette repeated, this time sharper.
"Nadette!" he spun on her with a look of mock contrition, "I'm absolutely ashamed to say that my support staff lost your invitation. They've been doing a lot of that sort of thing lately," he gave me a pointed look.
I froze. Our eyes met for only a fraction of a second but it seemed in that moment reams of information were passed. I felt a wave of shame for running from him. A surge of humiliation that I'd been caught. And now he was here, to what? Gloat? Buy me back? Get revenge?
His eyes seemed in that fraction of a second not to be nearly as foppishly merry as his words and body language. In that moment he looked old, and strangely wise, and sad, like he knew where I'd been and why I'd done what I did, and was seeing it all as the mistakes of innocence.
And then he winked.
Before I could even guess at what that meant, his attention was back on Nadette. "I'm ever so sorry to be late, but the important thing is that I came, isn't it?" Although he was smiling with his mouth, his eyes were cool. "After all, we wouldn't be having a party if not for the fact that I discovered this lovely little morsel. You were, of course, going to credit me with the find."
Nadette was speechless.
Hesitantly, one of the other vampires spoke up. "Is… this… the entertainment you spoke of earlier?"
That broke Nadette from whatever reverie she'd been trapped in. "No. This decidedly isn't. Listen, Jeffrey -"
But Jeffrey's attention had already moved and he was clasping the reluctant hand of a tall gaunt looking black vampire. "Sydney, my condolences about Rwanda. Terrible to do, terrible. Who would have thought that Hutu's could hate Tutsi's so much."
"You make more of it than there was," said Sydney smoothly, showing absolutely no emotion whatsoever. "It was nothing, little more than a riot, swiftly struck down. The anger runs deep, but they will learn to accept each other soon enough."
"Oh," said Jeffrey, surprised. "I heard it was a bit more than that, but what do I know, I wasn't there. Hey, perhaps you can use Gregory's services. A few films might be just what is needed to reeducate the masses out of that pesky genocidal behavior."
"Perhaps." He looked down his nose a little, and I realized that Sydney was actually several inches taller than Jeffrey, making him something of a giant. "And you have thoughts on how best to manage ethnic tensions?" he said. "You are a Wilderist, no?"
"Jeffrey," interrupted Nadette. "I did not invite you, and you are being disruptive and rude to my guests. I'm going to have to ask you to go."
Jeffrey just stopped. It was odd to see so much energy suddenly becoming still. There was threat in it, like an explosion just waiting to happen. Or that moment before a tornado actually touches down.
"Another thing that you neglected to do is let me pay the finders fee." His voice was calm, but cutting.
The other vampires recoiled as if this were some sort of major faux pas, but Nadette stood rock solid. "So I didn't," she acknowledged. "The finder's fee is merely a courtesy, not an given, Jeffrey."
Jeffrey turned his head slightly to the side but kept his eyes fixed on Nadette. I felt my stomach tense at the show down. Perhaps there would be scratches in the walls after all.
"It seems strange to me that a Eugenist of your stature would decide to suddenly turn your back on one of the most treasured and relied upon Eugenist traditions." His voice was slow and deliberate, and icy cold. "You are the people who decided that we should set ourselves up as stewards. You are the ones who came up with this way to manage resources. The color schemes, the cards, the permissions, that's not Wilderist policy, that's from you."
Nadette's eyes narrowed in a way that reeked of condescension. "Even the most unprincipled Wilderists agree that there needs to be some stability in the populous. And I fail to see your point."
"--And yet you slaughter one of your own sacred cows the moment it becomes inconvenient to you. What does that say about your principals?"
"It says nothing, because this is not a simple run away." Nadette drew herself up and addressed her guests more than Jeffrey. "He's a unique, a White, and you think I would just turn him over to you for a few thousand dollars? You, who couldn't even keep him in your territory for a single day?"
Jeffrey looked pointedly at my leg, "It's true, it totally escaped me that I was supposed to keep my harem chained in place. I had this little idea that he would actually obey the law, or at least have some small sense of self-preservation. I was wrong." His eyes narrowed. "But do you," he swept around, "Any of you, honestly think you would have done differently?"
Nadette didn't give an inch. "The point is, he was in your possession for no more than a few hours, while I've held him for the better part of a week and invested considerable resources into him. By any measure, your claim to him is so weak as to be almost nonexistant."
"Weak? He didn't just move into my territory, Nadette," said Jeffrey in a low voice. "He didn't just appear on my registry. He was miscategorized as Black. Do you honestly think, you or any of these people would have bothered to drink something that advertised itself as puke? Like it or not, Nadette, without me - and only me - you would not have a White to sell, and he would have gone wasted."
"Nadette," said Gregory uncomfortably. "He is right. If we abandon the finders fee, it would mean chaos. I will not sink my money into a runner if I can't be assured that he will remain mine until I choose to sell him."
Nadette stiffened. "Very well. But I believe everyone here will agree that he is worth more than a meager five thousand - I spent more than that on his room and board."
"I will pay more - within reason," said Jeffrey.
A smug smile crossed her lips. "Well then, how about no money at all? How about instead a quid pro quo? I shall give you your errant White back, apologize to my assembled guests and even pay their travel expenses for having wasted their time."
"And in return?" Jeffrey seemed dubious.
"I want your submission. To me. For five years." Her grin was insufferable.
It was Jeffrey's turn to recoil. The look on his face was pure disgust.
Nadette continued. "It's a minimal amount of time, and I wouldn't interfere with your harem - nor would I insist you merge your assets into mine. You would work for me, be my voice in the Chicago parliament. Help pass my agendas, my edicts, my laws. Bring Chicago over to the Eugenist camp. And who knows, perhaps in those five years it will stop being an act, and you will truly come to embrace our philosophy. Wilderism is an idea of the past. Vampires rule this world and that is never going to change. It's our job to do so responsibly."
Nadette looked around, "We have plenty of witnesses to testify that you entered into this bond of your own free will, there is no reason you can't make your vows here. Now."
Jeffrey looked at me - a brief look, tinged with guilt. Then his lips tightened. "I would sooner let you feed off my blood than submit to you."
Nadette's smile didn't fade. This was obviously the response she preferred. "Well then. Let all note that the finder's price was rejected." She met my eye with a look of total satisfaction. "It appears there will be an auction after all."
Back to chapter 10
On to Chapter 12