Relieved that Hicks doesn’t know Abri Cole and her connection to Lucan O’Reilly, Mark merely nodded in reply. If Serge had had a pulse it would have been racing at the mere mention of her name, but since he didn’t his fangs reacted instead. He put his hand over his mouth as if to cover a cough.
“We should be going, Mark,” he said as he stood with his hand over his mouth. Mark and Serge made their leave of Mr. Hicks and his flashy secretary and headed back out into the cold, sunny morning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
After helping Lucan wash and put away the breakfast dishes, I make a beeline for the bathroom to get ready. The giant tub stands empty and lonely in the middle of the room. Maybe after my dinner with Sarah we can come back here and make use of it again. The memories of the other night cause me to dial back the hot water on the shower at little so I can cool off.
I wash my hair and I’m out of the shower and dried off within five minutes. I pull on a sweatshirt and some jeans; brush my hair and put on a little make up. Unless I have a date, which I will probably have more of now, I never get dressed up on the weekends. Lucan is standing on the other side of the door when I open it. He has on those sexy, low-slung jeans and a gray v-neck t-shirt. I almost ask if he’ll be cold, but realize he probably doesn’t notice cold like I do.
“Nope,” he replies.
“Do you think I’ll need coat up there?”
“Probably not. They’ve turned part of the floor into office space so the heat is probably still on.”
It is usually cold in my office on Saturdays so I elect to bring a coat anyways. Lucan shakes his head. He probably doesn’t remember what it is like to be cold, or maybe he is always cold and it doesn’t bother him, being dead and all.
“Maybe,” is his reply.
I am going to stop having one-sided conversations with myself in my head. He probably thinks I’m crazy with all the things that run through my brain.
“No, please, I like it. I’m getting to know you that way.”
“Or we could just have a regular conversation, you know, back and forth. Together. Out loud.” I say with just a hint of annoyance in my voice as I walk past. “Crap! I wish I had my camera.”
Lucan walks over to a cabinet near the TV and removes a camera bag from one of the drawers. Inside is a big, fancy digital SLR camera. All I have at home is what my mom always called a “point-n-shoot,” the kind you have to wind after every picture.
“Here, you can borrow this one. I’ll have them printed for you this afternoon.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
“I’ll show you how it works when we get up there.” He looks pleased that I don’t know the slightest thing about it. Here he is, five hundred plus years old, and he knows more about a computerized contraption than I do. Then again, Lucan was around when the Commodore 64 and Pong were hot news. Lucan’s smile disappears and he amps me as I head into the elevator ahead of him. Well, it’s true.
We take the rickety beast back down to the 66th floor to catch the regular elevator to the 71st. The lobby of the 71st floor is in much better shape than the lobby on the 66th. The original stars and planets motif is still on the ceilings and the light fixtures that look like planets. It reminds me of the wizard’s chambers in The Wizard of Oz. Lucan shows me around the corner to the old observation area. Glass walls separate it from the rest of the floor but the wall paintings continue inside. The signature triangular windows line the walls. I'll never understand why the building’s owners won’t allow the public to see this! We pass through the ancient turnstiles that once accepted a nickel from patrons to gain entrance. The view out of the windows is limited to a north, northwestern view, but there is still plenty to see. I can make out the theater district below with all of its flashing marquees and St. Patrick’s cathedral. The most impressive and recognizable buildings are those of Rockefeller Center.
Central Park with its grassy lawns and forests is visible further up the island. I am so absorbed in the view that I hardly notice Lucan step out of the observatory to answer his cell phone. Putting the fancy camera to use, I snap the skyline, walls, ceilings, and floors. The camera isn’t hard to work at all, just like my little point-n-shoot, once I turned it on. I even figure out how to make it take photos in black and white.
“What’s wrong?” I ask Lucan when he returns.
“That was an associate of mine at the Enclave. Rumor has it your Mr. Ainsworth has hired an attorney to represent him in his divorce.” In my world, that is just stating the obvious. Of course the man needs to hire a lawyer, he is being sued.
“He needs to hire one. He’s rich and his very upset wife is suing him for divorce. Not to mention the fact that we know he’s, well, you know.”
I am not sure if it’s for my own benefit or Lucan’s that I avoid the term, but either way, he knows what I am talking about. Not that it will factor into the divorce. I can just see myself standing in front of the judge asking for Sarah to get a larger share of their community assets—including those assets that Sarah doesn’t know about, but I am sure exist— because her hubby is a vampire. Half vampire, whatever. In my mind, the distinction is less of a necessity. He is still not all together human.
“He’s hired an Enclave lawyer. He doesn’t really work for the Enclave, per se, but he’s what you might call sympathetic to the cause. He’s a real bottom feeder of a lawyer too, Abri. Not someone you want to deal with.”
I smirk at the fact that Lucan distinguishes between lawyers that are bottom feeders and those that are not. Most folks think all lawyers are bottom feeders.
“Well that may be, but it’s not like either of us are going to mention to the judge that Mark’s a vampire or a Halfling. We’d both be laughed out of court.”
“True, but that doesn’t mean Mr. Hicks won’t do things in his power, or in the power of others to make this case difficult,” Lucan’s pauses. “Or disappear. Think about it Abri. How does Mark know someone connected to vampire society? It means whoever turned him is still in the picture. Mark may seem harmless but there are plenty of people out there that are not. And I use the term people loosely.”
Lucan is right. This Mr. Hicks isn’t going to play entirely by the same rules as me. His bread is buttered in the supernatural world and I imagine he plans to keep it that way. But Mark is an aberration, not something any vampire would want running around, so why not just get rid of him. Why feel some sort of allegiance to him in hooking him up with Hicks?
Lucan answers me. “To keep their mistake hidden. To keep Sarah and you from poking your noses where they don’t belong. There is still a possibility Mark can be fully turned if someone was willing to risk it. His wealth would be of great value to some that would be up to the risk.”
“I’m starting to think that the Enclave is very two faced.” This is more complicated than I thought. Good thing I asked for a large retainer, not that I could bill Sarah for conversations with Lucan about vampire dealings. The guys in accounting would think I was nuts when they processed that billing entry.
“Aye, love, there is a lot more of my world that you don’t know about, that you shouldn’t know about. Unfortunately, I’m sure I will be forced to tell you about it for your own safety one day.” Lucan’s eyes glow almost violet as the redness seeps into his blue.
“So tell me about this Mr. Hicks,” I ask. No harm in knowing about your competition.
“Virgil Hicks,” Lucan huffs. “Virgil Hicks came to New York about twenty years ago from New Orleans. New Orleans is sort of the unofficial vampire capital of the New World.” Lucan pauses.
I know I have a funny look on my face, but several things about that sentence strike me as funny. First, New Orleans is the setting for more than one vampire story but I would never had guessed there was some truth to all that. Then again, last week I wouldn’t have guessed there were really vampires in the world either. Second, the way Lucan says New World makes me realize our, um, age difference. I wonder how long it’s been since anyone
outside of a world history class used the term New World when speaking of America?
“Sorry,” I say. “Continue. You can keep talking over my inner monologue; I can still listen to you at the same time. Mark of a lawyer, we listen and think all at once.”
“No doubt,” he chuckles. “But I can’t really tune you out. It’s like your voice drowns out my own thoughts.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Anyways, New Orleans is our capital. Mr. Hicks became involved with vampires there in the early part of his career. He found it lucrative and daring. Mostly real estate deals and off shore oil brokering. I’m not sure why he came to New York, maybe after the real estate and oil markets crashed it wasn’t lucrative anymore, but he showed up here and opened a practice in Queens. He works mainly with humans now but he will work for vampires and the Enclave when asked.”
“Is there a distinction to be drawn between vampires and the Enclave?” I ask.
“Sometimes. The Enclave is a voluntary organization that most of us belong to, a sort of lobbying group for the area. But it’s not required and some vampires can’t, or don’t want to, abide by the rules.” Lucan’s tone suggests that he is apprehensive of the fact that he is divulging vampire secrets to a human.
“So Mr. Hicks works for both those in and out of the Enclave?”
“Aye, that is the rumor. We have been trying to catch him at it for a while now. There are those of us that do not trust him and would prefer his services not be used for Enclave business.”
“Well, why use him at all? You’ve been to law school and I’m sure you’re not the only one around the Enclave that has.”
“Old habits die hard, I suppose. Some of those in power in the Enclave came to us from New Orleans and are fond of Mr. Hicks—although I don’t know how or why. He’s the kind of man that doesn’t take sides, so long as both sides are paying him.”
“But why would he get involved with Mark Ainsworth? It’s not like Mark is in power. He’s not even fully vampire. Hell, does the Enclave even know he exists? You didn’t until he came here.”
“It has been suspected that a Halfling was created by someone but now we have confirmation after Mark’s little visit to you. As for why Mr. Hicks would bother with Mark, the answer is simple. Money. How Mark got in contact with Mr. Hicks I’m not sure, but rest assured it was no accident.”
“This should be fun. I hope he enters his appearance soon. Mr. Hicks is mortal right?” All I need on my first major case is a vampire opposing counsel.
Lucan eyes flame as he looks out the window and he is running his tongue over his extended fangs again. I want to see them again and the thought makes me flush.
“Fun, Abri? Do you know how dangerous this could be for you? For Sarah? Mr. Hicks is mortal but it’s only skin deep, if you know what I mean. And we don’t know who has connected him with Mark.”
“True,” I sooth as I walk cautiously across the room to Lucan. His brooding eyes area warning not to get too close. This sudden protective flair makes me realize he is dangerous too. “But that’s what you’re for. There is a clause in my contract that allows me to hire special outside counsel on cases where I might need some expertise. The partners will be watching me closely on this case. It’s my first large retainer matter. I’m sure I can pitch it to them that you’re an expert on something relevant to the case and a lawyer. Your bar license is current, right?”
Lucan’s eyes turn blue again and he grabs me by the shoulders. I try to ignore the amps vibrating through me. “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day!” I am unaware I’ve had any other ideas today, but okay. “My license is current. In fact, if anyone were to look they’d realize my license number is twenty seven, but no one ever looks.”
“Holy hell, Lucan, twenty seven. As in you were the twenty-seventh person so receive a law license in this state?” He shrugs. “Wow. Okay, enough business talk for now. We can talk strategy later. I mean Virgil Hicks hasn’t even filed his appearance yet. Now, take my picture, I want proof I was here.”
Lucan takes the camera, spins me around so my back is to the windows and snaps a picture of us together. “I thought vampires didn’t show up in pictures,” I say reaching for the camera to check the display. “At least that is what they say in the movies, right?” Lucan holds the camera out of my reach.
“I guess you’ll just have to find out later. Smile, Abri.”
We take pictures of each other and spend some time watching the landscape below. When I check my watch, it is close to lunchtime. We have managed to spend a few hours here.
“Do you want to go higher? I know how to get to the top of the spire. It’s cold and windy and there’s the occasional bird flying by, but totally worth seeing.” Lucan and I are sitting on the railing of the turnstile. He is watching me as I scroll through our photographs, which he does in fact show up in. I like the black and white ones I’ve taken of him when he’s not looking the best.
“Do we have to take an elevator?”
“Nope, stairs and ladders all the way to the top of the 77th floor. There’s even a service door up there that opens to the outside, if you’re feeling adventurous.”
“Are you crazy? That’s just as nuts as you insisting on standing outside of the apartment. What if someone saw us?” There is no way in hell my ass is going to crawl up an eighty year old ladder to the top of the spire. Lucan might be able to survive a seventy-seven story fall, but I certainly can’t.
“Hmm, probably true. In light of our earlier conversation, how about going with me to the Enclave? There are some people I think you should meet.”
“As long as we can take the Evora,” I tease.
“Okay, but you’re driving.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Since I was planning to go home to get ready for my dinner with Sarah, I hadn’t packed anything decent to wear. The faded jeans and New York Rangers sweatshirt I put on this morning are most likely not appropriate attire to wear to the Enclave. Yesterday’s work outfit will have to do and I set out to search for it in Lucan’s closet. Hanging up next to my work clothes is a garment bag from Lola Bella Boutique, definitely not Lucan’s type of place. Curious and a little bit excited that it is obviously meant for me, I unzip the bag. Inside is a red knee-length sweater dress with a cowl neckline.
“I hope you like it. I knew you wouldn’t want to go to the Enclave in jeans so I had this sent over. Don’t worry, it’s not Versace,” Lucan calls from the kitchen. Damn, he can hear me rummaging around in here!
“Very funny. Thank you, it’s beautiful,” I yell back unnecessarily. Shucking my jeans and comfy sweatshirt, I pull the dress on over my head. Maybe I will just wear this to dinner tonight too. Next to the bag is a shoe box containing a pair of black satin ballet flats—so much better than sky high heels. Confident I look worthy of the Enclave’s Council, I head to the bathroom to reapply my makeup. Lucan follows me in to assess my new outfit.
“Perfect,” he purrs and leans down for a kiss. I tense up a bit in anticipation of the ampage that is sure to follow but it is low and slow this time. We wrap our arms around each other and I relax my body against his. A few thoughts about how crazy and fast this is begin to creep up in my mind, but I quash them before Lucan hear. I hope.
***
We pull up to the Enclave and the valet guy appears as if out of nowhere to take the car. Relieved that it’s not the same one as before, I unlock the door to allow him to help me out. We don’t touch as he holds the door open and I’m glad to have missed being amped again. He nods and moves around to the passenger side to open Lucan’s door.
Lucan takes my arm and leads me through the giant iron door and its security system as the valet drives the Evora away. We make it past the security camera and into the lobby quickly.
Lucan cocks his head in acknowledgment of the receptionist, a pretty, pale red head, who waves us on past her post. Adjacent to the door that leads to the restaurant is a small hallway with a fancy elevator. I groa
n.
“It’s only one floor,” Lucan advises.
“I’m good, I have you.” There really isn’t anything to be afraid of; the building can’t be more than five floors judging by the outside. That guarantees a hydraulic pump elevator, not a car on a cable.
Lucan presses the call button and we wait for the doors to open. When they do, an attendant steps forward to hold the doors open for us. He bows slightly to Lucan and mutters something I can’t quite hear. Lucan gives him a deep nod in return and ushers me inside the elevator. Once we are all in the car, the doors shut again.
“Chambers, Lord?” the young man asks in heavily accented English.
“Please, Anton,” Lucan replies.
The elevator begins to descend rapidly rather than going up as I had anticipated. We go down, down, down. There is no display inside the elevator and the buttons have symbols that look like hieroglyphs rather than numbers. A soft chime indicates each level as we pass it. One floor my ass, Lucan.
The doors open to our destination and Lucan places his hand on the small of my back to guide me out into the long corridor. The lobby and restaurant are modern in their décor, but this basement is positively medieval. The walls and floor are made of large, dark stone blocks. The walls are rough but the floor is polished to a smooth, high shine. Heavy iron sconces hang at regular intervals along each side of the corridor. There are no burning torches, just energy friendly halogen bulbs, which strike me as very out of place. Then again, going green is probably a good idea if you’re a vampire fraught with roaming the earth for eternity. Maybe Al Gore is a vampire, I muse. Lucan stifles a laugh at my thought.
“This is the Chambers of the Enclave Council,” Lucan says with a wry smile as we approach a set of doors. “This is our courthouse, so to say. The Council is made up of three of the oldest vampires in the region. They enforce our laws and preside over any grievance issues among the members.”
“Interesting.” It is really all I can think to say. There is an uneasiness in the air that I can’t shake. Why do I feel like an animal being led to slaughter? “Why do you want me to meet this Council?”
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