Midnight Brunch

by Marta Acosta

  “You can take the girl off the runway, but you can’t take the haute couture off the girl. Or, you can’t take it off until the end of the evening.” She gave me a sly look and asked, “Did one of your special friends pay for your membership to the Diamond Club?”

  “Silas Madison asked me to come. Do you know him?”

  “Of course, I know Silas. I met him in Krakow. Krakow is the new Prague, you know. He spoke at a small dinner we had in my friend Jadwiga’s castle. He was so passionate about world peace that we all wrote checks to him immediately. Then Jadwiga showed us her new boobs, which are fantastic, and Silas told us about the innovative beauty treatments here.”

  “So this is the nexus of politics and vanity.”

  Gigi laughed merrily. “You’re just like Nancy—you always intellectualize everything!” She stood up and called out “Darling!” to someone across the room, and she was gone.

  Silas came to me and handed me another drink. “You see, they only care about themselvesss. They need guidance.”

  “And you are good enough to guide them.”

  “You jesst, Milagro, but if not me, who?” he said. “I can do both, you ssee, advance our agenda, help them, and make enough sso that I am comfortable.”

  “You’re a visionary, Silas. A visionary who knows the importance of having a good time, I hope.”

  He smiled at me and a red light went off in my head. I looked around the room and spotted a badly cut thatch of red hair. “Oh, there’s Gabriel. I must clear up an awful misunderstanding we had earlier. Please excuse me.”

  “Don’t disappear,” he said.

  I made my way through the tables to Gabriel. I thought he had never looked more miserable, but I was wrong. When he saw me coming, his anguish increased visibly.

  “Are you still here?” he said.

  Miss Misty Roseybottom was by his side, encased like a sausage in something made of shiny pink material. She had applied excessive amounts of shiny makeup products, like goopy pink lip gloss and sparkly blue eye shadow.

  “Hello, Brittany. Aren’t you a vision today? You look as wonderfully fluffy and sweet as cotton candy, doesn’t she, Gabriel?”

  Brittany didn’t know whether I was complimenting her or insulting her, but Gabriel knew exactly what I meant. “Milagro, I already asked you to leave the Paragon.”

  “Yes, you did, but since you’re not the boss of me, I decided to stay. Besides, I promised Silas I’d hang around.” I turned to Brittany. “When’s the big day? What’s your color scheme? One of my friends just did a blush-and-white scheme. It was fabulous.”

  She brightened. “I think I’m going to do deep rose and spring green, but maybe pink and lilac—”

  Gabriel cut her off and said to me, “You’ve got to go now, Young Lady. You don’t know what’s coming.”

  His use of my nickname threw me off. “Actually, I do. Because I’m getting paid to participate. See, I’m on your team now, Gabriel.”

  Before he could answer, Thomas Cook was grabbing my hand and dragging me away. “What is it, Thomas?”

  “I need you to send photos of this party to my publicist so they can get me in the columns. Take one with me and Gigi and her friends. Find someone hot and get a shot of that, too.”

  “Thomas, I am not working for you.”

  “You’re telling me! That’s why I had to let you go. Remember to get my good side.”

  It was no use arguing with him. “Fine. I’m on it. Don’t worry about a thing. They’ll be candids.”

  The party progressed as large parties do: exchanges of compliments, truncated conversations, and introductions that I would never remember. The music got louder as the Dervishes played covers to classic rock songs. The room grew warmer and voices rose to be heard. Several couples ventured onto the dance floor.

  When the main bar cleared for a moment, I took the opportunity to say to Mercedes, “Nice hair. You look like a hellacious black Betty Crocker. How are things going?”

  “Bitch,” she replied. “Everyone loves the drinks.”

  “Keep pouring. This will all be over soon.”

  I found Edna, but Thomas was monopolizing her, providing her with good camouflage as someone here to celebrate and socialize.

  Even though Oswald was expected back soon, I kept looking at the entrance to the ballroom, waiting for him to come through it. In a very short time, the band had finished playing retro covers and began playing their originals. The noise was deafening and the walls throbbed with the music. The lead singer threw himself around the stage, shrieking. I thought he looked like a scrawny hairless monkey, yet I had a difficult time tearing my eyes from him.

  People bumped into me as they talked and danced. Their faces were red with excitement, their eyes glassy. Many had broad smiles, but a few were wailing and tearful in conversation.

  Ladies’ shoulder straps had fallen down, exposing creamy flesh, and men had pulled off their ties and unbuttoned their shirts. The hot room smelled of perfume and chemical sweat and spilled booze and danger and sex.

  On one of my circles around the room I bumped right into Silas.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  I told him the truth. “I was thinking of my old life, before I even knew there were vampires. What astonishes me is not only your existence, but your openness in a place like this.”

  “We’re hiding in plain sssight,” he said. “We are ssafe sso long ass we know more about them than they do about uss.”

  “Knowledge is power.” I said. “Do you ever resent them?”

  “Iss a party the time to assk these things?” Then in a firmer voice, he said, “I grew up resenting and hating them for what they have done to us through the centuries, treating us like monsters. Eradicating us with no more thought than if we were vermin. Willem opened my eyes to a bright new future, a new dawn.” Although he was smiling, I heard the rage in his voice. He had lost his sibilant s and stood up straighter. “They tortured us, they hanged us, they burned us, and they drowned us. They had moral certitude that they were in the right as they confiscated all that was ours and deprived us of any legal recourse.”

  “Deny your enemy’s humanity and eliminate the need to treat them humanely,” I said. “And now?”

  “And now it is our turn to rule.” He grabbed my hand and an electric crimson shock went through me. The room became red, red, red, blood pouring down the walls. The music pounded out a heartbeat, and I could smell it, the rich, copper scent of all the blood in the room. “The time to begin is now.”

  “Oswald hasn’t returned yet with the knife,” I said. I barely heard my own voice through the blood beating in my head. I pulled away, but Silas kept gripping my hand.

  “Do you miss him?” Silas asked for the second time that evening, as he dragged me past the dance floor to a door that led behind the stage.

  “Silas, stop messing up my costume!”

  We were backstage. He let go of me. A few dim lights marked a short set of stairs and the exits.

  I said, “What’s the rush?” I followed his gaze to the rear of the stage, which had been blocked off from the ballroom by red curtains. In the middle was the stone altar. On it were silver candelabras, an earthenware pitcher and cups, and a large silver bell. To one side of the altar was an ornately carved black and silver armchair.

  Silas poured the nasty herbal essence into the cups and said, “Let’s drink to us, Milagro.”

  “That would be fab, Silas.” A few cups of this stuff on top of the megavodka should make Silas fall apart.

  I took the cup from him and drank it quickly so I wouldn’t have to taste it. Silas watched me and took only a few sips. If Zave was right about the potency of this stuff, Silas should turn into a slobbering mess in a matter of minutes.

  What I didn’t count on was that he would first go through an ugly transition.

  He looked at his watch and said, “Now is the time.”

  “Time for what? The night is young, Silas, and O
swald—”

  “Oswald is on a fool’s errand,” he said. “We have the real knife here and his car will have an unfortunate problem on his return.”

  I tried to act like the avaricious tramp that he thought I was. “And your reasoning for this is?”

  “Tonight is our wedding night, Milagro. You are a radiant bride.”

  My previous aversion to complicated weddings seemed inconsequential when compared to my shuddering revulsion at the prospect of marrying a freaky vampire cult leader at a debauched society soiree.

  The beautiful white gown, the lovely slippers—if I had been a girl like Brittany, I would have realized before that this looked like a wedding dress. “Oswald will not be happy.”

  Silas stepped close. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes were black with a pale aquamarine rim. His sweat smelled acrid. “You’re wasted on Grant. I want to have you in all the ways Ducharme had you, the ways that made him willing to kill for you.”

  Silas made my skin crawl. I smiled and said, “I amused him momentarily. But let’s take a big-picture view. If you humiliate Oswald now, you lose a valuable ally. If you wait, I can stage it so he breaks up with me. It’ll be easy. His parents already want him to pay me off. I’ll make them double their offer, and then I can come to you. It will be a win-win situation.”

  “That’s what I admire about you, Milagro. We think alike. But I’ve waited a long time and I can’t wait any longer.” He picked up the silver bell and clanged it loudly. Suddenly the band stopped playing, the curtains to the ballroom rose, and a spotlight glared down at me. I looked out into the ballroom and saw Willem coming forward, escorted by neovamps, who were bumping one another drunkenly as they walked. Willem was dressed in the black robe he had worn when officiating the baby’s naming ceremony.

  The chanteuse from the vampire nightclub followed Willem. She started singing a song from hell. The Dervishes, who had been standing to one side, moved to their instruments and began playing along. The chanteuse looked surprised but pleased at the accompaniment.

  The neovamps helped Willem up to the stage and to the ornate chair. The hood slid off his bald noggin. His skull looked as translucent and fragile as porcelain. I saw then that he held the jeweled knife. Willem glared at me and said, “You are not worthy of being among us.”

  Silas stared down Willem and hissed in a low voice, “Shut up, you old fool, and do as you’re told or I’ll lock you back up in that home until you rot to death.”

  The elderly man cringed and looked down at the floor.

  “Silas?” I said.

  “Don’t worry, Milagro. Willem knows that if he behaves, I’ll treat him well.”

  Silas took my hand and pulled me forward to face the guests. I saw a flood of red rising until it covered everything. I could smell blood. I licked my lips as I imagined the taste of it.

  Silas said, “Welcome, friends! Thank you for sharing this joyous occasion with us. We are here to celebrate the opening of our new treatment center at the Paragon, where you will receive the most innovative, most remarkable therapies for retaining your youth and beauty.”

  Looking out onto the guests, I saw the skin stripped from their faces and bloody eye sockets. They were glistening meat. Silas released my hand for a moment, and in that moment they transformed into the intoxicated, self-indulgent hedonists that they really were and I wondered how I ever could have been intimidated by people I despised so much.

  “Funds from this new center will go toward cosmetic research, as well as to my project to bring morality, order, and harmony to our country. I call it Benevolent Guidance.”

  His listeners clapped and hooted enthusiastically. I could see that a few chairs had been knocked over and tablecloths were soggy with spilled drinks. Someone had taken the roses out of an urn and scattered them on the floor.

  “This night is also very special because you are all guests at my wedding to the only woman in the world for me, a unique creature, or as I call her, my rara avis, Milagro De Los Santos.”

  He took my hand again. The crowd was cheering wildly and I tried to practice my breathing exercises, but then I thought, no, no, no. I jerked away from Silas’s grip, and I ripped the knife from Willem’s hand and shouted, “No, no, no!” I pushed Silas against the altar.

  The Dervishes started playing loudly, wildly, and their music was the soundtrack of insanity. Everyone was laughing at the show, howling, and I held the knife against Silas’s throat. Just as Cuthbertson wanted to feel the knife in my flesh, I savored the moment before I would slice into Silas’s pale, pale skin.

  I heard someone shouting, “Milagro, no!” But I was not Milagro anymore. I was something that needed, craved, yearned for, and deserved to drink the blood of others.

  “You’re magnificent,” Silas choked out. He put his hand over mine, caressing it, and that surprised me so much that I was caught unaware when he tried to push it away.

  Crimson images swam in front of me. He was strong, but I was strong, too. People were shouting, but their words were only part of the deafening noise of a party whirling out of control.

  I bit Silas’s arm, wanting to rip and tear his flesh like an animal, and he groaned, “Oh, baby, yeah, to the bone,” but all I got was a disappointing mouthful of suit.

  We struggled and fell to the floor. I was on top of him, holding the knife above him, trying to decide if a stab to his throat would be more satisfying then a stab to his heart.

  His flunkies jumped onstage, but a few were so drunk that they fell off immediately. “Stay back or he dies,” I shouted. “Dies sooner.”

  My anticipation was like foreplay. I let it build and build.

  “Milagro,” came the annoying voice again. Gabriel was standing nearby. “Milagro, put down the knife,” he said.

  Anger cut through the bloodlust momentarily. “Go away!”

  “Milagro, let him go. You’re screwing everything up!” Gabriel began to approach me, but I pressed the knife against Silas’s skin. Undaunted, Gabriel announced, “Silas Madison, I hereby take you into custody on the authority of the High Council for treason, felony assault on a normal, attempted assault on a council member, misuse of council property, elder abuse, and illicit theft of blood.”

  The ancient grog was having its effect now, because Silas began laughing uncontrollably. I watched in exquisite expectation as his throat moved with the sound. His throat, I would cut his throat.

  But just as I was basking in my blood passion, I saw Oswald standing before me. “We’ll drink together, Oswald,” I yelled over the music. I heard glass breaking, screaming, and china shattering.

  “Milagro, put the knife down,” he said calmly. “Put the knife down.”

  Maybe a knife wasn’t the way to go. Perhaps I could bash Silas’s skull on the stone altar and see blood pour from his ears and nose. I wanted to rip his arms from their sockets, hear the crunch of his bones, and bathe in his hot, rich, sticky blood.

  Silas saw my expression and groaned, “Blood is the river and blood is the life. Blood shall be taken and blood shall be given.”

  “Milagro!” Oswald reached out for me.

  I jerked away, dragging Silas a few inches with me. I’d never felt so strong. “It’s his fault I can’t touch you anymore, Oswald. He steals blood from locals. He’s cruel and horrible and wants to enslave people!”

  Silas grunted out, “Kill me, then. Take my blood. You are the one foretold.” He leaned his head back, exposing his neck.

  Willem began speaking the old language, and in my blood passion, it sounded like music. “As it is foretold,” he said in English, “the one who survives slaughters her mates and drinks of their blood in her rise to power.”

  I clutched at Silas, my thoughts becoming confused, remembering fields of scarlet flowers, growth, life. I flung the knife across the floor and rolled off Silas. I was on my back, staring at the bright stage lights. The party raged on. I closed my eyes and heard Silas screaming, “Let go of me!”

  I
n retrospect, we shouldn’t have told the bikers that the booze was spiked. They might have been more efficient and less violent as security guards if they hadn’t been pilfering drinks all night.

  I heard thudding on the stage, like a body in the dryer, and Silas’s voice receded.

  Oswald was kneeling by me and he said, “It’s all right now. I’m here now.” I wanted his arms around me, I wanted to feel the comfort of his flesh, but I could not.

  I’d never felt so alone and angry in my life. I screamed. I screamed and I screamed.

  I was aware of Oswald running off. He returned pulling Thomas. Oswald said, “Help her!”

  Thomas came beside me. He took my hand and forced me to look at him. His breath was like spring air. He said, “You’re safe. Go to sleep, Milagro.”

  I slept.

  Twenty-Four

  Love Bites Back

  I awoke the next morning to see Oswald dozing in a chair by the side of my bed. For a moment I was puzzled, but then the events of the night before hit me like a shovel.

  “Oswald,” I said, and his eyes opened immediately.

  He smiled, but it was an even, controlled smile, not one of his carefree, lopsided grins. “Hey, baby,” he said softly. “How are you feeling?”

  “What happened?”

  Oswald reached out and brushed the hair away from my face. He was wearing surgical gloves and I felt as if I was contaminated, some hateful, untouchable thing.

  “We all had our own agendas,” he said. “Gabriel had infiltrated the group on behalf of the council. He was still gathering evidence when you came along and changed Silas’s timetable.”

  This was one happy stitch in the miserable tapestry of my life. “I knew it couldn’t be true that he would marry that nasty ruffled pink creature.”

  Oswald smiled. “Gabriel’s already gone to the airport with Silas. He’ll present the case against him to the council. The video from last night will help.”

  “Where does the council meet?”

  “Even I don’t know that,” Oswald said. “I don’t have the level of clearance that Gabriel has.”