by Lee Monroe
‘Cocky is exactly the right word,’ I said, dryly.
Inside the great room – the ballroom – the noise was almost deafening. It was more than a hubbub of voices, it was a hissing, whispering nest of creatures. I was amazed at how distinct the assembled groups were.
There was Tilly and her coven, chattering. Tilly’s nervous energy gave her the appearance of an agitated little bird, sharp-nosed, her head darting this way and that.
In the corner, the vampires I had seen earlier stood coolly, observing others. The woman with the fur cape held a small, painted, wooden fan in one hand, and I saw her whisper to Elvis as she waved it in front of her, pausing to seize a flute of what looked like champagne from one of the staff. Taking a long drink, she put her head back and hiccuped. I smiled. It made her seem more human at least.
And in the orchestra, seated on a curved stage by a huge stained-glass window looking over the grounds, was little Dalya, bent intently over her violin.
I suddenly wished that Dot was here to see all of this, and felt a pang. She would never know about any of this. She couldn’t.
Dalya lifted her head and found us. Two small pink spots appeared in her cheeks and she lifted her bow in greeting.
‘Dalya spends most of the evening bored as a snail,’ said Luca, waving back at his sister. ‘She cannot wait to make her entrance as a proper guest.’
I secretly envied her, observing safely from her place in the orchestra. If it weren’t for Luca by my side, I would hardly say I felt at ease. The night opened out before me, unknown and forbidden. I looked almost longingly at the tray of glasses carried quickly past us by a waiter.
Luca followed my gaze. ‘One sparkling grape juice won’t do any harm,’ he said, stopping the waiter to take two glasses from him. ‘Though in large doses it’s said to have an hallucinogenic quality, so maybe go easy on it.’ He handed me a glass.
I drank, to find the taste was like lemonade. Effervescent, but harmless – I hoped.
‘I hesitate to break it to you,’ Luca murmured over the top of his glass, ‘but you are a source of interest already.’
‘Really?’ I looked subtly about me, my stomach clenching. As my eyes travelled around the room, they met a few curious stares. The vampires in particular gawped brazenly at my dress.
‘Come on,’ said Luca. ‘Let’s get this done with.’ He took my arm and led me through parting guests to the imposing couple in the corner.
‘Hello there,’ purred the woman in the fur cape. She lowered her fan, smiling spectacularly at Luca as he approached. ‘Rather rude of you to leave it so long to introduce us to your companion.’ She extended one long arm towards me. ‘How delicious you are,’ she said, her smoky eyes taking me all in. ‘Where on earth have you come from?’
I opened my mouth, but Luca intervened by kissing her hand.
‘Vanya, this is Jane. A distant southern cousin of mine.’ He smiled in a relaxed fashion. ‘Jane, this is Vanya. And her husband Milton.’ He gestured at Milton who was half turned away in pursuit of more grape juice. ‘They rule the vampire nests on Nissilum.’
‘Not that we live in such a hovel,’ said Vanya. ‘We have worked hard to enjoy a more luxurious existence. And it gives our lowers something to aspire to.’ She blinked at me and I felt myself becoming almost swept up by her. I looked down at my glass, remembering Luca’s warning. ‘Heavenly dress,’ she said, a tiny laugh escaping her lips. My own mouth was frozen in a smile. ‘Very nice for one of your breed,’ she told Luca over my head, as though I wasn’t present.
Having secured his drink, Milton stepped forward, towering over the rest of us; he held a flute of clear sparkling liquid in one gloved hand, extending the other towards me.
‘Enchanted to meet this beautiful creature,’ he said. I was fixated by his mouth, wide and red, though his skin puzzled me. Contrary to what I had expected, he had a healthy pallor and his eyes were a regular brown, not the black I had imagined.
Luca nodded warily at him, then, glancing at Vanya, he cleared his throat, attempting more conversation. ‘Vanya and Milton are Borgia vampires. A great dynasty.’
Vanya preened in a self-entitled kind of way, flicking her fan back and forth.
‘We took the name from some mortal acquaintances of ours, hundreds of years back.’ She looked dolefully at Milton. ‘We had so much in common with them. Didn’t we dear?’
‘Exquisite country, too,’ Milton added, nostalgically. ‘Italy.’ He directed a look at me. ‘Have you heard of it?’
Borgia? Nefarious Italian family … I blinked and drew my hand out of Milton’s extended grip, unsure whether this was a trick.
‘I haven’t, no. Is it beautiful?’
‘Very. And the food! Pity we couldn’t eat then.’
Luca gave me a slight nudge, reminding me, if I didn’t already know, that ignorance was the best policy.
Vanya opened her purse and took out a small compact mirror and a lipstick. Oblivious to her audience, she retouched her lips, pouting at her reflection. Milton was gazing adoringly at her, I noticed.
‘Isn’t she something?’ he murmured, then subtly looked me up and down. ‘Though I suspect she has a little competition tonight …’
I looked up at Luca to see umistakeable pride on his face and we exchanged a smile. Though I hardly felt comfortable trapped with these imposing vampires, I allowed myself a small rush of pleasure.
Oblivious to any compliments except those directed at her, Vanya snapped her compact shut and replaced it in her purse. She linked her arm through mine and her fur cape rubbed pleasingly against my bare skin.
‘Would you like to see the ancestral gallery?’ she said quietly into my ear. ‘All those fantastically puritanical Seraphim. Gruesome.’
‘Why not?’ I said, my head reeling a little. Was it the drink? Or was it Vanya?
‘I’ll take her, Vanya.’ Luca smiled amiably but his tone was firm. He moved to break us apart, and slid his own arm through mine.
Vanya’s face darkened for a second, but she recovered and smiled broadly. Her teeth were the whitest I’d ever seen.
‘As you wish,’ she said, in a clipped kind of way, and raised her glass at Milton. ‘I need more refreshment darling,’ she told him as he obediently took her glass.
Vanya turned to me and I felt Luca’s grip tighten a little. ‘We must catch up later,’ she said, touching my cheek with her finger. Then, with a nod at Milton, she clutched her fur closer around her shoulders and swept off with her beau.
‘She’s incredible,’ I breathed. ‘And I feel woozy.’
‘Vanya has that effect.’ Luca’s expression was dry. ‘She’s a terrible flirt. But she certainly has an eye for beauty.’ His eyes flickered shyly over my dress and inside I felt myself glowing.
‘I can hardly believe this is happening. It’s all so very glamorous.’
‘I can’t say I enjoy it usually.’ Luca pulled me gently in the direction of the great hall, and as we walked a clutch of witches stared imperiously at the two of us. ‘I’m normally stuck serving drinks to this lot,’ he added in a half-whisper.
At the doorway to the great hall a white-haired man, dressed in a pale-blue and white tailcoat affair, bowed solemnly at us. I nodded in return.
‘That’s Ned,’ Luca said as we passed into the hall. ‘He and I tend to spend a lot of time together at the ball. ‘He has a good sense of humour. For an angel.’
I laughed. ‘They are rather serious, aren’t they?’
‘Goody two shoes,’ Luca said slowly. ‘Now, that’s one mortal term I approve of heartily.’
‘But the angels are supposed to be decent people?’ I said. ‘Trustworthy.’
Luca stopped and put his glass down on a marble-topped table with what looked like solid gold legs.
‘I envy your regard for trust,’ he said, and I thought how soft and kind his eyes looked. ‘As you can imagine, it is not prized amongst the population of Nissilum … Well, apart from the angels. And as fo
r the werewolves … Well, animals don’t trust … they survive.’ Luca’s face was serious. Sad.
He hates it, I thought. He hates not knowing how to trust.
‘But you trust your family?’ I said, wanting to smooth out the anxious creases in his forehead.
‘Loyalty is slightly different perhaps.’
And what about me? I wanted to ask, but didn’t.
A flurry of waitresses appeared through a door in the hall. Dressed in shades of pale pink, blue and yellow Regency-style dresses they were what could only be described as cherubic. Pale blonde curls, arranged Jane Austen-style and the creamiest skin. I stared, enraptured.
‘Very pretty,’ said Luca, as they carried their trays through to the ballroom. ‘In a sugary kind of way. Not really my thing.’
I grinned. ‘They’re like something out of a fairy tale. Little Bo Peeps.’
We watched as the last one disappeared through the door.
‘So,’ I said lightly. ‘Have you had any more … pictures in your head?’
Luca looked confused.
‘You know, about Evan?’ I held my breath, hoping the answer was no.
Luca looked as though he was about to say something, but he hesitated.
‘Do you mind if we don’t talk about Evan tonight? It’s just … I’m quite enjoying having you to myself.’
He sounded so formal, yet so sweet, I pushed any more questions out of my head.
‘Of course,’ I said, relieved. ‘And me too. I mean—’
‘I know what you mean,’ he said smiling. ‘Come on … I’ll show you the gallery.’
He led me across the slippery marble floor, so polished and clear I could see the vibrant blue of my dress reflected as clearly as if it were a mirror. At the end of the hall was an ornate staircase, wide at the base, the gold-plated banisters curling prettily outwards. The steps were covered by an ivory-coloured velvet carpet. As the stairs wound round I saw a vast painting, gilt-framed, overlooking the hall.
‘That’s Cadmium,’ Luca said, nodding at the painting. ‘Captured in his prime.’
As we climbed up to it I saw an astonishingly good-looking man. Dressed in a white robe, like a handsome blond Roman emperor, a delicate silver and gold crown lay amongst the curls on his head. His blue eyes were piercing, even from a few feet away.
‘Fine-looking, isn’t he?’ said Luca, craning his head to get the full picture. ‘I must have seen this painting a thousand times, and every time I look at it, it makes my breath catch in my throat.’
‘Where is he?’ I whispered, for reasons I couldn’t fathom, except that I felt as though I were in a sacred church of some kind.
‘Now?’ Luca glanced back at the hall, which was empty but echoing the sounds from inside the ballroom. A shriek of laughter cut through the hubbub. ‘I haven’t seen him all evening. There must be something going on that needs his attention.’
We continued up the ivory carpet, passing a glowing picture of Celeste, smiling benevolently; the ultimate matriarch with sapphire-blue eyes, and a fine, heart-shaped face, she wore a necklace with a semi-circular silver pendant.
‘Matilda,’ said Luca, nodding at a pretty, buxom woman wearing a white cape. Though like the others she was blonde, her eyelashes were dark, and two rosy spots on her cheeks gave her a more human quality. ‘Eldest daughter of Cadmium and Celeste. She’s away somewhere,’ Luca said vaguely. ‘Doing some good work or other. She is married to Reuben.’
Next we passed Dorcas, Matilda’s younger sister, Luca said. Unlike the others she had a melancholic look about her, and her hair was a darker shade of blonde, and her skin a little less youthful. I wondered where she was tonight …
‘What’s this?’ I said as we climbed further, approaching a gilt frame with no picture, just a plaque beneath it with the name Raphael written on it.
‘Raphael. He’s what you’d call “in the dog house”.’ Luca turned to me, continuing in a low voice, ‘Remember we talked of him when you met my family for the first time?’
‘He’s … mad?’
‘That’s what they say.’ Luca looked about us, checking we were very much alone. ‘But nobody really knows for sure. He has always been a bit … volatile.’
‘So they’ve removed his portrait to teach him a lesson?’
‘It’s a gesture,’ Luca said. ‘Celeste needs to set an example, but she adores Raphael.’
Further up the staircase the next portrait was also missing. Not even a name. I looked questioningly at Luca.
‘Raphael’s father, Dorcas’s husband: Gabriel,’ he said. ‘Nobody knows exactly what has happened to him.’ Luca’s face paled slightly.
‘Sad,’ I said, taking in Luca’s sorrowful expression. He nodded, but moved to continue up the stairs.
At the top of the staircase was a large landing and another double-fronted door. Two white chairs sat either side. I glanced at Luca.
‘Celeste and Cadmium’s reception room,’ he whispered, taking my hand and pulling me towards it. He knocked firmly, but there was no answer. We looked at each other. ‘Let me show you … just for a moment. The view is spectacular.’
He gently opened the door and the light that flooded through the room was dazzling. The whole of the opposite wall was window, overlooking a midnight-blue sky, a nearly-full moon and the tops of cedar trees in the grounds.
A long wooden sideboard with rows of drawers underneath sat against one wall, while in the middle of the room was a large circular table covered in photographs. I moved towards it, my eyes sweeping over the images.
Family photographs. There was Celeste with her daughters, one of her holding a baby, and a large one of Cadmium and a boy of around thirteen or fourteen. To say he looked angelic was a huge understatement. The boy had long, curly hair and was dressed in a pale-blue robe of some kind. His hair looked damp and curled around his neck and shoulders, as though he had been swimming; little drops of water sat on his forehead. He looked serious, with his father’s arms loosely around his neck. I moved closer. Something about the boy held my attention.
‘That’s Raphael,’ said Luca quietly. ‘He looks sweet doesn’t he? But he was just starting to behave oddly …’
I said nothing, continuing to stare at the image of father and son. I couldn’t explain why I couldn’t take my eyes off it – but Raphael was captivating somehow. Shifting my gaze to Cadmium, I saw that his eyes were the same colour and shape as his son’s.
‘Where was his father?’ I asked. ‘Gabriel?’
‘Gabriel had just disappeared by then.’ Luca shook his head. ‘Raphael took it very hard.’
‘Poor boy.’ I frowned.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs startled us and I jerked, knocking the table. Something fell from behind the photograph of Cadmium and Raphael.
‘Quickly,’ said Luca. ‘We must leave.’ He turned to the door. I glanced back at the thing on the floor. Another photograph, loose, which must have been tucked behind one of the frames.
‘Don’t worry about that,’ Luca said vaguely over his shoulder. ‘We shouldn’t really be in here.’
Even so, I snatched up the picture, meaning to put it back on the table, but as Luca opened the door I changed my mind, tucking it as fast as I could into the top of my sleeve, where it rasped against my skin.
I darted after Luca and we stepped out on to the landing, a little breathless.
The footsteps were closer and a figure turned at the bottom of the final flight of stairs. A familiar silver tulle gown and a benign smile stood below us.
‘Luca,’ said a soft voice. It was Celeste, who held keys in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Again she looked fondly at Luca.
‘I was showing Jane the gallery,’ he said nervously. ‘We came a little too far.’ He took my hand again, reassuringly. And we went down to meet her where she stood.
Celeste didn’t appear in the least bit suspicious. Instead she gave me what I realised was her trademark smile, full of warmth.
>
‘Your mother must be very happy,’ she said, looking from me to Luca. ‘I hope you are enjoying yourselves? What a handsome pair you make.’
‘Yes.’ Luca blushed. I took his arm, unsure whether it was protocol to curtsey to Celeste every time we met.
Celeste began her descent, Luca and I behind her, but when she reached the empty portraits of her son and grandson, she paused. She reached out to Raphael’s and with a hesitant movement traced his name engraved on its plaque.
‘I have failed, Luca,’ she said quietly. She turned to us both. ‘You remember Raffy? The two of you were close once … As children.’
I shot a look at Luca, who was silent.
Celeste’s face darkened. ‘Little Raffy,’ she murmured, ‘too spirited and sensitive.’
I subtly touched my sleeve, feeling the photograph still in place.
She shook her head, adjusting her décolletage with one hand, then lifting her skirts.
We all moved down to the hall.
When we reached the bottom of the steps and the rowdier sounds from the ballroom, she gave an audible sigh in front of us and retrieved her fan.
‘Time for dancing … and then the speech,’ she said, wryly. ‘I do hope the guests are behaving themselves.’
With that she swept elegantly through to the ballroom, leaving us lingering behind her.
‘Can you dance?’ Luca said, his voice close behind me. I waited for him to put his hand on my waist, but instead he moved to take my arm again.
‘I don’t know. But I will if you will.’
‘Agreed,’ he said, and as he pulled me closer to him, I felt a fluttering of happiness.
We walked through to the sound of lively violins playing some classical concerto. The orchestra was in full swing and people were dancing. I saw Vanya, her head thrown back, with Milton’s arm circling her waist and a cluster of female witches nearby, holding hands and turning in a circle, their tiny feline faces unsmiling but their movements expert.
‘Everyone pretty much does their own thing,’ Luca told me with a grin. He took my arm and put one hand gently around my waist, pulling me closer to him. In his black tuxedo and white shirt he looked like an old-time movie star. Classically handsome. His green eyes locked on to mine and he swung me round with surprising skill.