Midnight Masquerade

by Nancy Gideon

  "Hey, Rae,” called one of the ladies of the Noir. Suzanne, a strapping redhead who topped nearly six feet of curvy café au lait temptation, waved to her in passing. “Congressman Genelli has been asking for you.” She winked. “I think you've got a date. Better hurry. That bitch Wanda's been after his treats forever, and I'd love to see you slip in and steal him out from under her ... thumb. It's time you got yourself some sugar, baby. We're short-handed tonight. Crystal never came in and never called. Ms. Anna's gonna have her tucked and toned butt for breakfast. Yours, too, if you don't start shaking that money maker."

  Congressional sugar was the last thing on her mind as Rae nodded her thanks. “Be in in just a minute. Tell him I'm fixing myself up for him."

  "Oh, I can hear his motor running, doll. Don't let him idle too long, or I might just have a spin myself."

  Suzanne smiled and Rae was taken aback by the feral intensity of her grin. She hadn't had much of an opportunity to bond with the women of the Noir. Most of them were hard-edged freelancers who didn't appreciate competition or invite confidences. Suzanne typified their aggressive attitude. Rae's intuition whispered that it was more than the money they were hungry for. The power, perhaps, or the prestige of claiming an influential lover. Still, that didn't capture the motivational drive of Suzanne and her nighttime sisterhood.

  A sisterhood she had no intention of joining. Congressman Genelli would have to get used to the disappointment.

  One more chance at that office upstairs. At least she wouldn't have Crystal to worry about this time.

  She was plotting her attack upon the secrets of the Noir when a distracting commotion at the front door snagged her attention. With sinking dismay, she recognized the bedraggled Naomi Bright under the forceful escort of two pierced and tattooed street punks. The girl wasn't fighting them. She looked close to catatonia. Had they drugged her? They must have, to have gotten her to walk like a docile lamb into this place she'd sought to avoid like a slaughterhouse.

  She had seconds to decide as they marched her through the lobby. Go on with her plans or step into it here and now. She uttered a soft expletive.

  "There you are, honey. About time."

  The two punks looked up in surprise at her frontal assault. With a bump of her rump, she knocked one of them aside to assume his position on Naomi's right. Up close, the girl looked like a member of a Timothy Leary field trip. Her glazed eyes rolled under her fluttering lids, and her delicate jaw hung slackly. What had they given her?

  "Thanks, boys. I'll take her from here. I've got about ten minutes to get her cleaned up and ready to work."

  It wasn't a great bluff but a good one. For a moment, as they stared at her and at each other, Rae thought their indecision might outweigh any orders they'd been told to carry in their rather limited brain pans.

  It almost worked.

  Rae saw the objection form in their bovine stares, and she didn't wait around to hear it. She cinched her arm about Naomi's waist and hauled with all her might, jerking the puppet-like girl out of the other's grasp. In a quick sweep for her options, she noted the burly pair at the front door stepping into a unified barrier to block her exit. The doors to the inner Noir swung open to reveal a for once, nonplussed Kaz Zanlos. As Rae met his wide stare, she understood her alternatives in one agonizing second. In order to continue her ruse, she would have to turn Naomi over to him, relinquishing her to whatever fate he had planned. But in doing so, she would turn her back on every tenet of decency she'd ever followed. To Protect and Serve. On the “serve” end, she'd been rather shaky of late but as to the “protect” portion, she'd meant that. To the limit of her life. And that's what it might cost her to get Naomi Bright out alive.

  She had one choice, one chance, and she took it in a bold move.

  Stepping toward Zanlos as if she meant to capitulate gave her one scant moment of relaxed aggression from the others. They'd expected her to give up and were ready to accept her surrender with a smug nod toward inevitability.

  They didn't know her very well.

  As soon as she saw their guards lower, Rae acted. Hugging Naomi's limp form in tight against her side, she dodged for the stairs leading down into the mosh pit below, hoping she could lose them in the confusion of black light and hammering volume. She dragged Naomi down those wide, crowded steps and out onto the teaming dance floor where the press of bodies provided both camouflage and containment. She struggled to hold Naomi up and push forward at the same time as the strobe of light revealed opportunity then opposition with each pulsing beat.

  Zanlos's thugs stood at the edge of the dance floor, speaking to several others as they gestured toward the squirming dancers. Quickly, the increasing pack of aggressors fanned out to block any attempt to escape. With frightening precision, they began pulling startled couples off the dance floor, silencing their objections with the flash of eyes that glowed red in the unnatural light.

  As the surrounding cover diminished, Rae realized it was fight then flight time. Not exactly what her thigh-hugging dress and three inch heels were designed for. She kicked out of one shoe and snatched up the other, turning the stiletto spike into a weapon just as one of the thugs rushed her. The heel of her shoe nailed him neatly in the forehead. He went down without a sound, taking her imbedded shoe with him.

  A rough hand gripped her by the arm. Rae spun without hesitation, her elbow flying up to take her assailant in the nose. Cartilage pulped at the impact but instead of dropping the man, it only made him angry. Lips curled back from bloodstained teeth. And as Rae watched, those teeth began to elongate, becoming fangs in a horrible snarl. Even as the impossibility of what she saw registered in her mind, she was striking again and again, battering with her elbow like a blunt instrument until the hold on her arm lessened. Then she jerked free of whatever it was that held her and, with Naomi's burden dragging at her side, pushed through the remaining dancers, seeking concealment until the chance for escape presented itself.

  The music pounded, attacking the eardrums and provoking a quivering response in the internal organs. Swirling lights and laser darts in various colors created a confusing pattern upon the crowd. Smoke rose up from the lighted panels of the dance floor, forming a momentary haze in answer to Rae's prayers. She ducked low, wending through the gyrating figures in a purposeful path toward the rear fire exit. Until a huge form blocked her advance.

  In the dazzle of lights and wreathing fog, she saw a monster before her with red eyes and wicked fangs. Gasping in shock and alarm, she spun away, only to find that avenue barricaded by a similar unearthly creature. She turned and there was another. Hugging Naomi's nearly boneless body closer, Rae faced the improbably and admitted the inevitable. She wasn't going to get away.

  Then, out of the fog, salvation appeared in the shape of Gabriel McGraw.

  Rae's relief was short-lived, for this was not the Gabriel who teased her with his grin and easy manner. This was the unnatural being she'd glimpsed so briefly outside the door when they'd gone to see Marchand LaValois, and she didn't know if she was greeting friend or foe ... or even a man.

  Against the psychedelic flashes that put every movement into jerky frame-by-frame progression, Gabriel swung at the nearest target, not with his fist but with his open hand. But not with a normal hand. His fingers had twisted into talon-like claws that tore through the man's throat in a crimson geyser before the threat disappeared down into the blanket of mist. Then with a speed Rae had only guessed at before, he rounded on the next man, clamping his hand atop the man's skull and, with one vicious turn, wrenched it backwards.

  "Head for the stairs,” Gabriel shouted over the escalating music. Rae paused only long enough to see his fist smash through an attacker's chest. Then she was running, not taking the time to process what she'd seen. Flight was foremost in her mind as she hauled Naomi toward the stairs. As she mounted the bottom steps, a glance upward revealed Kaz Zanlos flanked by three other goons rapidly approaching. She might have plowed through them if not encumb
ered with the stuporous girl.

  Gabriel's arm cinched about her waist, pulling both her and Naomi tight against him. Then in a feat that hadn't amazed her since witnessing Superman's first ascension on film, Rae found herself airborne.

  They rose straight up, past a cursing Zanlos, continuing to rise until Gabriel's feet touched down on the stair rail on the main floor. Then, as Zanlos's thugs turned and scrambled back up, Gabriel whisked them with unbelievable speed out the front door to where his big boat of a car was waiting. He deposited Rae and Naomi in the passenger seat on his way to the driver's side. The engine roared to life, and they hauled away from the curb through a scattering of patrons.

  Once they'd reached the open road and pursuit didn't appear imminent, Rae stared agog at the driver who now appeared to be the Gabriel she recognized ... except for the gore extending all the way to his elbow from perforating his victim's body.

  Gabriel glanced her way, noting her reaction before assessing the young woman slumped motionlessly beside her.

  "Is she all right?"

  As he looked back up for an answer, the streetlights glittered a luminescent silver in his eyes.

  "What are you?” she demanded in a tight voice.

  Gabriel responded with a wry smile and an amazing question of his own.

  "What do you know about vampires?"

  * * * *

  Kaz Zanlos was in no mood for his partner's attitude. He'd spent the last few hours laying down damage control, convincing the hysterical clientele that what they'd witnessed was a carefully staged production for their entertainment. Having the characters they'd seen savagely murdered appear and shake their hands went a long way toward calming their fears. No police would be called. Disaster had been averted. But now Bianca Du Maurier, in her guise as Anna Murray, was in his face demanding an accounting. And she didn't like what she heard as they spoke privately in her office.

  "You let them get away?"

  "For the moment. What harm can they do?"

  "Harm? I'd say significant considering what they've managed already."

  "The policeman was a surprise."

  "He shouldn't have been."

  "Then why didn't one of your people pick up on what he was? I thought you had some sort of radar built in when it comes to sensing one of your own."

  "He managed to slip by us somehow.” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, becoming gleaming slits in her not so beautiful face. Anger changed that surface loveliness into something closer to her primal form, something rather monstrous that Zanlos preferred not to see if at all possible. When she was in this kind of mood, his throat always felt horribly exposed. And Bianca's kiss was something he'd managed, through cunning and threat, to avoid during their long association. Best to turn her annoyance to some other target lest she forget herself and their tenuous bargain.

  "I think it's time to end this game,” Kaz pronounced, gratified when his preternatural partner didn't argue. “We've got to start our little discrediting campaign before Ms. Borden starts talking.” He stabbed at the intercom button. “Barry, come in here."

  The manager appeared, looking uneasy after all the evening's excitement. He never asked, but he knew better than to believe what Zanlos told their patrons. Nothing was as it seemed at the Noir, but he'd developed a blind eye in order to keep his extremely well-paying position. He looked to Zanlos. The man was a harsh boss, but he was better than the woman, Anna Murray. She made his family jewels shrivel.

  "Barry, bring me the tape on Nick Flynn from the other night."

  A dreading silence.

  Zanlos glared at him impatiently. “Is there a problem?"

  "I didn't think so, sir. But I guess, maybe there is."

  "Speak plainly, man."

  So he did, reluctantly, fatefully. “Mr. Flynn has the tape. He asked for it the other night, and I didn't think..."

  "You didn't think?” Zanlos roared.

  Barry shrank back, seeing his future in counter work at the local burger franchise. “He said you wouldn't mind."

  "He was wrong. You gave him the only copy?"

  "There wasn't time to make another. He said he'd return it right away, and I guess I forgot about it. It was my mistake, Mr. Zanlos."

  "Your last."

  And as Kaz Zanlos turned his back, the quaking manager looked to Anna Murray to make a final petition for his job. He found no sympathy there and quickly realized there was more at stake than his career. Baring her sharp teeth, the ghoul Anna Murray had suddenly become lunged for his throat to deliver his termination notice.

  Chapter

  Eighteen

  "What has he told you?"

  Rae studied Marchand LaValois with a calm she was far from feeling. Disbelief was still a buffer to the wilder emotions careening through her. An analytical curiosity also kept her fears at bay.

  "Not much beyond the fact that you're the good guys. If he can be believed."

  From the sumptuous luxury of his Federal-style Leesburg, Virginia estate, Marchand responded to her wry comment with an indulgent smile. In this setting, it was hard to cast him in the role of late night movie monster, especially with his beautiful and obviously doting wife sitting at his side. Nicole LaValois was all that was elegant and well bred. She'd opened her doors without question in the middle of the night, ushering Gabriel, his arms filled with a motionless Naomi Bright, up into the silent recesses of the house then moments later, returned to politely offer her tea.

  Rae didn't want tea. She wanted answers. And she wasn't quite as polite as Nicole LaValois when she demanded them.

  "I could not tell you our origin,” Marchand continued, “only that it goes back to the dawn of man. We have coexisted with humankind for centuries, hiding in the shadows, living off them in secret, like a curse to be feared and ashamed of. Within our numbers, just as within mankind's, we have those who would abuse their powers with a reckless and selfish disregard. Your laws cannot control them. That's why our Corps du Justice was formed."

  "And here I thought you were black ops for the government. Silly me."

  "We are not without government support. Our influence reaches into places that would surprise you."

  "Not much would surprise me at the moment.” She looked to her sleek hostess. “Do you have anything stronger than tea?"

  "Of course."

  Rae watched her move to the sideboard, a study in grace and fluid strength. She looked ... normal. An illusion? Rae remembered the creatures at the club. She took the brandy offered with a wary nod of thanks.

  "I apologize for my ignorance, but are the myths about your kind true?"

  "Some yes, some no. Some are created by Hollywood, and some are perpetuated by our own kind to maintain an aura of awe and fear. Sunlight is our enemy. Silver is toxic to us."

  "And you feed on blood."

  He regarded her somberly. “We have and we do. Unfortunately, it is necessary to our survival. But we do not kill except in extraordinary circumstance, and we do not turn the unsuspecting into one of our kind without their knowledge and consent. Those are the laws we now live by. Or at least, most of us do. Those who refuse to conform are more a danger to us than to you."

  "So where does Kaz Zanlos fit into this? He's not a vampire ... is he?"

  "No, not in the traditional sense. Though he is a parasite who sucks off others for his survival. It's the woman you know as Anna Murray. She is one of our oldest and most deadly creatures. She has no regard for the laws of man or those of her own kind. She is evil incarnate, a blemish on our name that has gone on long enough. We did not know where she was hiding. That's why we needed you to draw her out."

  Anna Murray, who cast no reflection in her mirror. The truth of it shuddered through Rae.

  "Then why haven't you destroyed her?"

  "We need to know what she and Zanlos are involved in."

  "Murder, for one."

  "Yes. But there is more, and that more keeps us from punishing them as they deserve. We cannot afford to let
any of their evil continue beyond them."

  "So my friend and her father go unavenged? You promised me that that wouldn't happen."

  "Oh, they will pay for the Grovers as well as for the centuries of souls before them. And we are close. Ms. Bright has been working with us through Gabriel. She's provided enough for us to know we are on the right track. But there is more we must discover before we act."

  "And I haven't gotten you anywhere."

  He warded off her bitterness with a dismissing hand. “On the contrary. You have gotten us closer than we believed possible."

  There was more he wasn't saying, so Rae prompted him to finish. “How?"

  "You brought us Nicholas Flynn."

  Rae froze up inside. “I used Nick Flynn, and I am not proud of that. But it didn't get me anywhere. He won't help us."

  "He must, Rae. For his own sake as well as for our cause. He doesn't understand what is at stake, and it's vital that when he learns the truth, he be our ally."

  "Why? He's a lawyer from a small town trying to make it big in the city. He's turned his back on what his boss is doing. What makes you think you can trust him?"

  "Do you trust him, Rae?"

  I love you, cher.

  "I don't know."

  "Bianca DuMaurier, or Anna Murray, brought him here for a purpose. She is a creature of predictable desires. Power is one, vengeance is the other."

  "Which of those could Nick possibly give her?"

  "Both, Rae. Both without him ever knowing why. It's not who he is as much as where he comes from."

  "Baton Rouge?"

  "Italy, during the Renaissance, when a monster named Bianca converted two friends to darkness for her own twisted amusement. One of them was Nicole's father. The other is tied to Nick Flynn through marriage and the intermingling of blood. Both escaped her influence, and she would stop at nothing to punish them through those they love. She tried once to manipulate Nicole to hurt her father. And now—"

  "Now she's after Nick."

  "Yes."

  A bristle of protective anger rose up at the thought. “So, how do we stop her?"