by J. L. Murray
“Due to an administrative error,” boomed Evelyn, “we have misplaced the timecards for the week. To ensure that we can issue your paychecks, please follow me to Human Resources to manually sign your replacement forms. It will only take a few moments.”
“Ms. White,” said Linda, looking back at the machine she was in charge of. Viv could see the panic in her eyes behind her safety glasses and surgical mask. “What should I do? I’m not supposed to leave the machine unattended. My husband, he’s…” she glanced at Frake behind her. “He’s not well, we need the money.”
Viv smiled. “It’s all right, Linda. I’ll take over. There’s only the bagging left anyway. Fill out your papers and then go home to your family. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Linda looked like she wanted to hug Viv. “Thank you, ma’am. This is the best job I’ve ever had. I’m grateful.”
Viv watched them all file out, following Evelyn. She walked into the bagging room and looked at Frake, watching her with alien eyes. Viv smiled, her heart pounding. If she were able to kill the Rev, would they know before she could get the blood to V-wing? Viv felt the blood in her pocket. The Rev narrowed her eyes, as if suspecting something. Viv was starting to panic. What was she going to do? She thought Evelyn would help her take care of Frake as well, but now she didn’t know what to do. They said the Revs couldn’t be killed in the usual ways. They regenerated too quickly. If she could get her blood in the Rev’s veins…
“Hello, excuse me?” said a loud voice suddenly, making Viv jump. She turned and her eyes widened.
“Dr. White,” said Margaret Watts. “How lovely to see you again.”
“Miss Watts,” said Viv.
“I hope your position is treating you well.”
“Yes, thank you so much,” said Viv. “It has been everything I ever hoped for.”
“All we can ask for in this world,” said Watts, “is satisfaction.” She eyed Frake distastefully. “You’d better wipe that superior look off your face, my dear,” she said to the Rev. “The president is here.”
“Here?” said Viv.
“Yes,” said Margaret. “He is very curious about this place. Centralized purification was his idea, you know.”
“I didn’t know,” said Viv.
“You,” she said, pointing to Frake. “Go meet your master.”
Frake stared at her for a moment, then stalked past the president’s personal secretary.
“Where is everyone?” said Watts.
“We're all done here, so I’ve dismissed the workers and thanked them for their excellent efforts today,” said Viv.
“I see,” she said. “And you?”
“Just bagging the last batch for the party,” said Viv. “Then I’ll be out to give the president the tour.”
“Just like old times.”
“Yes,” said Viv. “How wonderful.”
“Well, don’t take too long,” said Watts, looking behind her. “I’m not sure the Rev can hold her end of the conversation with our Conrad.”
“Of course,” said Viv, busying herself with a pair of rubber gloves until she heard the door swing shut.
Viv wasted no time. She jumped up onto a plastic crate until she could hook her foot into the metal ladder on the side of the machine. The door was tightly shut and it took all her remaining strength to open it. Finally, it came open with a loud squeal. Pulling the vials out of one pocket, she pulled off the rubber caps and threw them in, glass and rubber and all, watching them sink in the tank of purified blood. She did the same with the vials from her other pocket. Her own blood was darker and thicker than the watery, bright red of the tank. She hefted the round lid back to the machine and screwed it into place, her vision going dark for a heartbeat, before the world came swimming back into focus. She could hear a murmur of voices coming closer, just outside the door. She had just gotten the lid back on when the door swung open and there she was, standing there with an empty bag in her gloved hand, still perched on the ladder.
“Well what’s all this, then?” said the president, his teeth sharp and digging into his chin.
Frake, standing behind him, hissed.
Viv stepped down from the ladder and made her face calm.
“A bag became jammed in the machine,” she said, tossing the dripping plastic into the biohazard bag. “Fine now. I’m about to fill the bags for the party. I apologize for the delay.”
Conrad stared at her for a long moment. Viv forced her heart to slow, afraid he would see her pulse jumping. He eyed the latex gloves that covered her arms past the elbows.
“Continue, Ms. White,” he said, something like a smile in his eyes. “By all means, the blood is the thing, is it not? I matter very little.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean…” said Viv.
“I’m being completely serious, my dear,” said Conrad. “Please, continue.” He looked back at Frake, then at Watts.
“Margaret, please,” he said.
“Ah, yes,” said Watts. “Frake, you are dismissed. The president does not require you to be here.”
“But, sir,” said Frake, the first words Viv heard her speak.
“Do you intend to argue?” said Watts, with an expression as if she were daring her to. “The president himself hired this woman to run this plant. She doesn’t need your fetid breath over her shoulder.”
Frake bowed. “Thank you, I’ll be going.”
“You are permitted to attend the party,” said Watts, “but stay in the back, won’t you? The president abhors sycophants.”
When Frake was gone, Margaret smiled at Viv. “That must have been unpleasant,” she said. “All this extra security makes the president look weak.”
“Indeed,” said Conrad. He fixed Watts with an odd look of affection that made Viv wonder just how long Margaret had been with Conrad. She must have been a beauty once.
“Ms. White, I will leave you to finish your job,” said Conrad, his voice quiet and polite. “This is all very impressive. I will have to return for a formal tour before I leave.”
“I am looking forward to that, sir,” said Viv. She started to load up the empty bags as the machine chimed that it was ready.
“See you at the party, doctor,” said Margaret Watts. She took the president’s arm as they left.
“Secretary my ass,” said Viv.
She bagged up the tainted blood and piled the plump bags on a silver cart until it was almost overflowing. She smiled as she looked at the tainted blood, rubbing her arm where Evelyn had taken the blood. She looked at her watch.
Six o’clock. Time to go.
Twenty-Eight
Sia had no idea what to expect as she walked into V-block. She’d never been to this part of the hospital before, even in her lessons with Mathilde. Sia took in the flickering gas lights, the sconces on the wall sputtering and occasionally dimming, making the scene before her even more surreal.
The walls were draped in a shimmering fabric of deep red, draped to suggest blood. A sparkling chandelier in the center of the room was filled with candles, their lights twinkling through the crystals. And the music. Sia felt the strings and winds vibrating through her bones, as if her very body were transmitting the sounds. There was small groups of guests in costumes around the edges of the room, laughing and chatting. In the middle of the room on an exquisite wooden dance floor, dozens of couples in fine clothes and elaborate masks, twirled elegantly in a waltz.
Mathilde squeezed her hand.
“Ma belle,” she said into Sia’s ear. “This is all for you, my sweet.”
Sia could feel the blood coursing through Mathilde, felt her pulse through their joined hands.
“You’re afraid,” said Sia.
“What?” said Mathilde, for a moment taken aback. Then she laughed. “Of course not, why on earth would I be afraid?”
A figure was moving from couple to couple on the outside of the dance floor, shaking hands with long, clawed fingers, acting every bit the politician. Sia recognized him even under his slee
k black mask, which resembled a fierce wild cat. A jaguar or a panther, Sia thought.
“What is the President of the Revs doing here, at my party?” said Sia.
“My dear,” said Mathilde. “Ambrose Conrad is more than the Revenant president. He’s your president. He’s also my brother. We were raised in different homes, different parts of the world, but we are blood. Always blood.”
Sia looked at her, but Mathilde was watching Conrad work the room, a tall, silver-haired woman following him taking notes when he whispered to her. Sia could feel the stakes tucked painfully into her corset. With one wrong move they might snap her ribs. But she felt they might be necessary on this night. A monstrous window, round and as tall and wide as the room itself, opened up to the courtyard and she could see the snow coming down so hard that it was like being behind a waterfall of snow. She could see no more than a few inches outside.
Mathilde led her into the ballroom just as the waltz ended and for a moment the silence was so thick that Sia couldn’t breathe. The dancers parted to make a path for Sia and Mathilde. Sia could see that they were all Revs. She was alone in a room full of vampires. All eyes were on her.
After a long moment that seemed to last a lifetime, the silence was broken. Conrad stepped forward, and began to clap. Everyone in the room soon followed until Sia was surrounded by thunderous applause. Mathilde clapped too, and Sia could feel her eyes behind the veil watching her closely.
Sia made herself smile, looking around her at all the masked faces. All the Revs in their elegant clothes, trying so hard to human. Trying so hard to be just like them. A waiter put a glass of champagne in her hand and she drained the glass. It was replaced with another as cold, clammy hands reached out to touch her or pat her bare back. She drained the second glass.
“Slow down, Sia,” whispered Mathilde. “You must have your wits about you.”
“Why?” said Sia. “I thought this was a party.”
“Remember where you are,” said Mathilde. “You should not ever forget.”
“You think I would forget?” said Sia, smiling graciously as long fingers caressed her. She fought the urge to vomit.
“You act the lamb very well,” whispered Mathilde. “But we both know that you are the wolf. And my brother, ma belle?” Sia looked over at Conrad staring at her across the ocean of hands reaching out to touch her. “My brother is the tiger, my love. He could rip us all apart.”
“He doesn’t seem so fierce,” said Sia.
Mathilde was quiet for a long time before she spoke again. “I’m afraid you are mistaken, my sweet.”
“My friends, enough!” said Conrad in a jovial voice. “Let the poor woman breathe, all of you. I know you want to show your affection. Perhaps you should show it by dancing with her.” He raised a glass to Sia, but did not drink. He smiled with his gash of a mouth, his teeth seeming whiter and sharper than the other Revs. Sia bowed her head deeply to him, watching him through her cream silk plague doctor mask.
And then a pair of fish-belly hands took hers and the music started and she was spinning. Twirling with a pair of gaunt, hungry eyes watching her closely. Sia tried not to look at the teeth, the dribble of saliva running down the Rev’s chin. He panted and his breath was sickly when he told Sia how lovely she looked.
Another pair of hands, another dance. She danced until her feet were sore and her heels had matching blisters. The gas lamps flickered as she wiped a trickle of sweat from her forehead with a silk gloved hand and tried to back away from the dance floor, toward the refreshments. The Revs kept dancing and Sia drank another glass of champagne. Mathilde joined her, and Sia saw that she had exchanged her usual black lace veil for violet. Mathilde was acting even more oddly than usual. Sia looked around the room.
“Why are you being so twitchy? What’s about to happen?” said Sia.
“Nothing,” Mathilde said too quickly. “Nothing to worry about.”
“You’re lying.”
“You would know all about that,” said Mathilde.
Sia watched as several Rev males filed through a door Sia hadn’t noticed before. It was covered in red fabric like the rest of the room, but Sia saw a latch on the wall, near the corner. She looked up to see another.
“That’s not a wall,” said Sia. “It’s a partition.”
“Sia…” Mathilde said, her voice cracking.
“What’s back there?” said Sia. “Why is there a false wall?”
“Sia, they know about you,” Mathilde said, urgency in her voice.
“What?”
“They know about you and Joshua Flynn,” said Mathilde, her fingers around Sia’s arm like a vice. “You have to go,” said Mathilde. “You have to run. This isn’t a party.”
“Then what is it?” said Sia. She looked around at the eyes staring at her.
“It’s a birth,” said Mathilde. “And a death.” Sia could hear the emotion in her voice. Something she’d never heard before. Grief? Guilt?
“What are you talking about?” said Sia. She saw more Revs go through the door set in the partition. They glanced at her before closing the door.
“You are being reborn on this night, Sia,” said Mathilde. “I am forbidden to tell you. But I didn’t know. I didn’t know I would fall in love with you. If you can call him to you, Sia, do it now. Do it before it happens. There’s no time. I thought I could follow orders, but you…” Mathilde shook her head. “I cannot hurt you, Sia.”
Sia stared at her. Her stomach was turning over and she had to close her eyes so as not to gag on her own bile.
“If I’m being reborn,” said Sia slowly, “then who is dying?”
Mathilde squeezed her hand, letting go of her arm.
“I told you I would never leave you, my love,” she whispered. “I meant it.”
Sia shook her head, confused. The dancers were a blur, the music suddenly like raw noise to her. Her head pounded with the beating of her heart, her stomach churning as her pulse climbed. Sia backed away from Mathilde, who let her fingers fall away from Sia’s.
“Joshua,” Sia murmured. Remembering her words. Remembering what she told him.
If you come after me, Joshua, I’m going to take a stake and plunge it into your heart.
And his in return:
For you, I would die a thousand times, Sia. If they hurt you, I will tear them all apart.
If they hurt me, she’d said, I’ll do it myself.
Why did she agree to attend the party? She thought she knew where to find Ana. She had forbidden Joshua to help her, and yet, he had tried to tell her. He had stood by the trees, the monuments of dead Revs in the courtyard. A forest that grew thicker and thicker as time ran out. Sia put a hand over her mouth. Why had there been so many Revs? Why had he been able to kill so many?
“My dear, you’re positively shaking,” said a friendly voice behind her. She turned to see Ambrose Conrad, his sleek mask wide against his gaunt face. Sia could see up close that it was made up of hundreds of shining black feathers. The old woman who followed him watched her closely. Conrad took Sia’s hand.
“May I have this dance, Ms. Aoki?” he said.
Sia nodded dumbly, looking around to find Mathilde, but she wasn’t there.
Conrad took her hands and they began to spin. While the other dancers had an odd clumsiness to their steps, like dogs standing on their hind legs, Conrad moved smoothly and easily through the dance, his movements liquid and perfect.
“You dance well, Sia,” he said into her ear. Up close she could see that he wasn’t as pale as he appeared. She could see something on his skin, a telltale line of makeup along his jaw. He had painted his skin to look pale, but Sia could see that the skin on his neck was flushed and pink.
“You’re not like them,” Sia said.
He laughed, deep in his throat. “You are a very perceptive young woman,” said Conrad. “In fact, I think you will find that your Joshua and I are quite alike.”
“Then why?” she demanded. “Why do you not ke
ep the old ways, like Joshua?”
“Because, Sia,” he said, “if I were to live in the shadows, I would be just one vampire among many. But look how weak they are. All of them. I am the most powerful being in the world. Can you see it? I know you of all people should understand that. You of all people know what it is to be strong among the weak. Even if only among humans.”
“I’m not strong,” said Sia.
“Ah, but you are. You would not let my sister see into your head. You came here, alone, vulnerable. You convinced everyone around you that you were pitiful and weak. ”
“But not you,” said Sia.
“No,” said Conrad. “And not my sister either. She loved you for it, you know. Her proclivities always did tend toward the unnatural. Do you know what she was doing, all those times you saw her in the forest?”
“Visiting the children, I assume,” said Sia, watching him. Conrad smiled.
“So you’ve figured it out. Bravo. But if you knew what she really wanted to do to those children... Even I do not feed on children. It is forbidden. She is not who you think she is.”
Sia’s heart beat in her throat.
“You didn’t know?” he said. “Such a mysterious woman, my sister. Do you know what happened to her face?”
“She said it was Joshua.”
“Oh yes, it was,” he said. “It was indeed. You see, it is very sternly frowned upon to take children, even for my kind. Even back when we lived in the shadows. A Revenant could stake another Revenant for the act. And he caught her.”
“With a child,” said Sia.
“Ripped the poor thing’s throat out,” said Conrad, clucking his tongue. “Such a sad state she was in. When I found her, he had ripped out her fangs before driving a stake through her chest. But he was just a little bit off. A mistake I’m sure he regrets. I was able to save my sister, but I had to cut away the Hawthorne that was growing inside her. It was a very ugly affair. She never forgave him.”
Sia felt that she was about to be genuinely sick.
“Why am I here?” said Sia. “What do you really want from me?”