This was another reason for my few days in Paris with François. Most of the Kandeskys—certainly the women—shopped in Paris a few times a year and watched the spring and fall shows. When I was moving to the castle, and leaving all that was familiar behind me, Jean-Louis laughed as I was deciding what to take and packing.
“You’re going to be staying at Stefan’s castle. There are servants. You have a suite of rooms assigned to you. You’re in Europe. You can have the plane, or the demons, take you to Rome, Milan, Paris. If you truly run out of something from here, you can have me or Carola or Mira pick it up on one of our trips. You can call Jazz and have her send it!” and then accused me of acting as though I was going into exile.
It sure hadn’t been exile; if anything I felt too accessible at times. Life wasn’t just changing clothes and shopping, I was getting work done but still wasn’t sure of the best direction for expansion. My title was International Planning Editor, a title the vampires had dreamed up when my presence in L.A. was getting too close to the Huszars for comfort.
I initially thought it was just an empty title and I’d continue as Managing Editor for SNAP, The Magazine, working remotely. Wrong.
The Kandeskys hadn’t cornered the market on the world’s celeb gossip by willy-nilly handing out titles and huge salaries for nothing. Several hours every day were spent in reading (translated of course, I still hadn’t learned any other languages and didn’t think I’d ever have the time) newspapers, magazines, faxes and emails from countries in the former Eastern Bloc.
SNAP was paying for sources to provide names, tips and gossip about anybody they deemed “interesting”. It was my job to try and sort this volume of information into some sensible package that would translate to magazine editions and I was still on the first task: identifying the correct movers and shakers in Poland, Ukraine and Russia, with a few from the Baltic states thrown in for good measure.
Language was going to be the biggest decider for new editions. I figured we’d add Polish and Russian, but our circulation wouldn’t support an edition in Lithuanian or Estonian. Those countries would receive the nightly TV show with sub-titles and voice-over translations.
This suddenly brought me smack up to Vladmir, again. Sandor said “for my new assignment.” Was I getting sent to Russia? Moscow? Oh Lord, I couldn’t manage that.
I practically stomped up the last set of stairs to my suite, building up a head of steam. Elise took one look at me. “I laid out your Dolce & Gabbana dress, but I think I’ll change it to a black Chanel suit.” She picked up a filmy armful of silk chiffon, headed for the dressing room and came back with a flared skirt, cropped jacket suit and a white, drapy silk shell. “I think just pearls and some gold bangles. “
She was too well-trained and well-mannered to ask me directly what was wrong, but she sure sensed something was. I knew she’d have a talk with some of the other servants later and among them they might be able to figure out my snit.
As I was putting the pearls in my ears, already dressed, hair done and make-up on, there was a tapping at the front door. I caught a glimpse of Elise’s face in the mirror and nodded to let him in.
Jean-Louis looked good, really good, tonight. I suspected he’d taken care to look good because he was going to sell me on something, again, that I wouldn’t want.
“You look business-like, tonight, love.” Aha! Something was afoot. He called me “Max”, or “My Dear” as a rule, “love” was reserved for special occasions and this wasn’t one of those special occasions.
“Thank you. I thought after we watch the live feed, we could talk about the best direction to head in the east. Did you have something planned?”
Hah, one of the things I’d learned early on was the use of a passive-aggressive offense, which usually worked well if I didn’t have all the information. Because of Sandor’s comment about my new assignment, I knew Jean-Louis and the Baron had something planned for me. My little comment meant that now he was going to have to come clean about some of the plans, although it would take more probing to get the whole scoop.
Chapter Five
Jean-Louis gave me a long, speculative look. “Stefan and I are planning to meet with some of the Huszars this evening, but I can carve out some time to talk to you.”
Damn the man. It would be a lot easier for me to stand my ground if he weren’t so...so...
He suddenly grinned, a smile so broad it crinkled the corners of his eyes and showed the tips of his fangs. “You were going to say ‘attractive’?”
“I wish you wouldn’t do that! I hate it when you can read my mind.”
His grin stayed. “I’ve told you, I, we, can’t read minds. But after several centuries of interacting with regulars, we have body language down pat. You’re just too transparent.”
“I may be transparent, but I’m pretty miffed. Once again, I find out from the help that you have plans for me...this time the demons! Why can’t you just talk to me first?”
Now his grin was fading, but he was beginning to glimmer, a sure sign he was planning to coerce me in other ways.
“Of course I was, I am, going to talk to you. I wanted to get a time when I could explain the whole plan, a time when we wouldn’t be interrupted. You have to admit that, even though you’re doing a great job of trying to adjust to our schedule, there’s not always a lot of time together.”
He was right, as usual. He and the other vampires had some flexibility even in daylight if they stayed indoors or traveled in their limos with heavily tinted windows. But they did most of their business and socializing at night, which meant that my sleep patterns were the ones that got adjusted. Also, the fact that I had to be awake during the day to do business when I traveled disrupted my schedule.
“Well, I’m awake now—I slept late this afternoon—so I have time tonight for a discussion.” I knew my tone was waspish but I couldn’t stop.
“We need to go down to dinner now, you know how Stefan is about punctuality.” Jean-Louis’ glimmer was deepening. “But I promise you, after the daily, we’ll spend time and I’ll fill you in.”
This was as good as I was going to get. I tried to get rid of my frown but couldn’t make it to a smile. “I’m looking forward to it,” I said as I sailed out the door, almost tripping over Vladmir on the way.
Jean-Louis was tuned into my mood. He didn’t even snicker, just caught up with me, took my arm and guided me to the stairs. “I should tell you, we have two of the young Huszars with us for dinner tonight.”
I stopped so fast that he stepped on my toe. “Ow, get off of me,” I hissed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He took a half step backwards, and off the toe of my Christian Loubautin pump.
“Just when would you have liked me to tell you? At 6 this morning when we invited them? I know how you love to be waked up. Or, I could have sent you a message with Vladmir, you’re so polite when staff members know something you don’t. Or maybe I could have written you a note, or sent you an email...you’d have loved the personal touch in that.”
Whoa, he may have stepped on my toe but I stomped all over his ego.
“Ok, ok, our schedules just aren’t meshing. Which Huszars are coming?”
“Alessandr and Markov.”
“I’ve met Alessandr, but who is Markov? That doesn’t seem like a Hungarian name.” I was speaking quietly. It wouldn’t do to have Vladmir hear our little spat. He may not speak English, but he could sure pick up on tone.
“Just like us, not all of the Huszars are Hungarian. Markov is an ethnic Ukrainian whose name was Russianized during the Soviet era. He lives outside of Kiev when he’s not here. Karoly and Alessandr are working with him.”
Since moving to the castle, I was learning more than I wanted to know about the relations between the Kandeskys and the Huszars. The last two great vampire families in Middle Europe, they’d been at odds with one another for centuries.
The patriarchs of the families, Stefan Kandesky and Felix Huszar, had both
been turned in the 15th century, but by different earlier vampires who were living in the forests, feeding off villagers.
Over the succeeding centuries, the families took different paths. Stefan fell in love with the daughter of a minor noble, turned her and took her father’s title of Baron when the old man died, unaware that his daughter now had eternal life. They gathered others, expanded their range into neighboring countries, took acolytes and realized that making money was a better survival tool than murder. And, you didn’t get chased, you got honored.
By the early 20th century, the Kandeskys were living across Europe, making millions every year from trade. They watched the rise of the entertainment industry, realized that it was almost as lucrative as minting money, and moved into the United States, cornering a chunk of the early movie fan market. When entertainment took off and spread, so did the Kandeskys until they now held the top spot in celebrity news and gossip across Europe and the Western Hemisphere.
The Huszars were homebodies. They stayed in Middle Europe, didn’t take acolytes, hunted for their food and generally made themselves a scourge of the country-side. After 400 years, they’d eliminated the smaller vampire families, as well as the residents of several villages, and were being forced to hunt further afield.
Although they didn’t need money to feed themselves, they did need it to keep up their living areas. There were repairs to the castles and outbuildings, money to bring in electricity and indoor plumbing, money for transportation. The Huszars earned this by hunting, cultivating and harvesting truffles. Teaming up with werewolves, they followed the feral pigs of the forests, eventually using them for hunting prey as well as truffles in the oak forests. They used servants, who lived the life of feudal serfs, to gather, pack and sell the truffles throughout Europe, and when the serfs outlived their usefulness, they became a meal.
Felix Huszar ruled his family with an iron hand for more than 300 years, only making one mistake. He took an acolyte, a young, beautiful man from a tiny village without a name in a country that became Bulgaria. No one remembered or cared where Matthais came from, and they learned not to ask.
Within a few years of becoming a Huszar, Matthais had gathered a following among the younger and newer family members. They were tired of living in the 15th century and watched their neighbors, the Kandeskys, as they took on the trappings of the uber-wealthy of the 20th century.
The Baron and his family traveled the world, and in style. They had planes, limos, yachts, lovely women and power. Politicians, movie stars, sports stars, just plain rich celebrities, courted them. No one turned down an invitation to a party, especially one at the Baron’s castle.
During the Kandesky’s rise, Matthais watched. What good was eternal life if every day was just like the one before, and would be just the same the day after?
When Felix’ decaying body was found along a path in the Neutrality, and Matthais took the reins of the family, the feud that had simmered for centuries burst into flame. Matthais accused Kandeskys of murdering Felix to gain control of the Neutrality. Stefan and Felix had carved out the Neutrality on the border between their territories years before. Patrolled by Huszar werewolves and Kandesky demons, the area buffered the violence and became the place where the families could come together in relative peace...at least they wouldn’t be killed while there.
With a new head of the Huszar family, the ancient pact seemed doomed. Matthais sent teams of werewolves and shapeshifters into the Neutrality, setting traps for anyone who came through. And when a Kandesky was caught, he was dragged in front of Matthais who was willing to ransom him back to the Kandeskys.
I knew this had been the state of the relationship between the families, but it changed when I came into the picture.
Baron Stefan Kandesky hired me to take over the print side of the SNAP empire, the weekly celebrity magazine with editions in English, German, French, Portuguese and Spanish. My job was to bolster circulation while researching and developing new markets. And those new markets were where? In the former Eastern Bloc and Soviet middle Europe. The area that the Huszars thought of as theirs.
So now the Kandeskys were poaching on Huszar territories, and doing it in a way that would make them even more money. Matthais was livid.
And because I was the agent that would make all this happen for the Kandeskys, I was the bulls-eye for Matthais’ rage.
With that, I came down the stairs to have dinner with emissaries from the Huszars. Why should I be upset?
Chapter Six
There were eight of us for dinner. Penelope, the Baron’s partner, and I were the only women. And I was the only regular. While I ate trout from the river, a rack of lamb and profiteroles for dessert, they had a dark-red consommé, steak tartare without the egg and blood pudding. I was getting used to mealtime and I knew the household staff, regulars all, were eating the same menu I ate, so I’d gotten over my guilt for making the cooks work so hard at fixing different food.
Alessandr was as I remembered him, polite with late 19th century Viennese manners. He took my hand to his lips and said quietly, “Mlle. Maxie, it is a pleasure, as always, to see you. May I introduce my colleague, Markov.”
I wasn’t sure the rough edges would ever get rubbed off of My-colleague-Markov. Because it was the Baron’s dining room, I extended my hand and found it crushed in what I could only call a paw.
Markov was shorter than I and built like a gym rat on steroids. He was dark, with black eyes and black hair extending to the backs of his hands and fingers. His neck was as wide as his head, his shoulders made his dark suit look painted on and his arms were so muscled they angled out from his body.
“I’m happy to meet you,” finally came out of my mouth as I tried not to snatch my hand back.
“I’ve heard much about you,” Markov rumbled from somewhere in his chest. “I can see that Alessandr didn’t exaggerate your beauty.”
I began to wonder if the young Huszars had brought in a ringer, one of their werewolves, to case the castle and assess the Kandesky power, but Jean-Louis took my arm again and led me to a seat while chattering on to Markov in some language I didn’t recognize. When we were seated, he turned to me. “Markov is from the former USSR, actually Ukraine. It’s so difficult to keep all these silly political divisions straight. This part of Central Europe has changed names and allegiances so much over the years that I’m surprised the languages are still being spoken.”
I looked at Jean-Louis. His glimmer was increasing and his eyes held the message “don’t ask me any questions right now”. Well, okay, I was too spooked to even figure out a question to ask. He’d told me enough about Markov that I was warned. Markov predated the Soviet era, but how far back he went I had no idea and his politics were unknown.
Dinner passed uneventfully. Most of the conversation was in Hungarian and what I was now recognizing as Russian. Jean-Louis leaned over a couple of times to translate a remark for me, but the context seemed to be the difference in the East bloc since the USSR collapsed. Much of the Soviet-styled building that happened after WWII was being demolished and cities were beginning to have an overlay of modern glass skyscrapers abutting 18th and 19th century municipal offices. Marble and stone, blackened by years of coal smoke and left to squalor in the Soviet era were being steam-cleaned and the result was a whiteness that hurt the eyes.
This was all very interesting, but didn’t have any bearing on why the Huszars were here and what they were going to meet about later.
The Baron finally stood. “I think we’ll have our coffee in the screening room and tonight we have a special treat for Maxie.” He raised his wine glass, with a trace of the Bull’s Blood they all drank, lying pinkish in the bottom. I raised my eyebrows and Jean-Louis raised his glass to me. “We’re watching last night’s U.S. show on tape delay.”
This was a change. We usually watched one of the European versions, with only an hour or two difference.
“Thank you. Why are you doing this?” These vampires didn’t j
ust go out of their way, or change their customs, on a whim.
“We thought Alessandr and Markov should see a U.S. version. This is where we started and it’s still the version that’s seen by most people around the world. And it’s the model for all the other versions.” With that, Stefan held out his arm for Penelope, Jean-Louis rose and gave me his hand and we led Milos and Bela the other two Kandeskys, along with the two Huszars, into the screening room.
Coffee and tea had already been set up on the side buffet. We chose places and settled in to watch last night’s episode of “SNAP”. The music came up and the anchor, a young, blond woman whom Jazz detested, welcomed viewers in a perky voice. I slid my eyes to Alessandr and Markov. They were fixated on the blond, but I wasn’t sure if it was her pale skin or tight dress that attracted them most. They might be vampires, but they were also guys.
When it was over, there was a babble of Russian and Hungarian as they shifted their chairs to gather around a small conference table. I raised my eyebrows at Jean-Louis and he turned to Stefan.
“I need to talk to Maxie for a minute, first. Start without me and I’ll catch up,” he said in English, then added a sentence in Hungarian that caused Stefan to purse his lips.
Now what? Did the Baron regard me as a pain-in-the-ass hanger-on? I knew the Huszars were interested in me. They had, in fact, tried to kidnap me a few times, which is how I ended up living at the castle with round-the-clock demons watching me. Was something new happening? Had I shifted from the whiz-bang guru of the print product to “Oh, that’s Jean-Louis’ new fling?”
I stalked out of the screening room ahead of Jean-Louis and turned toward the library, half hoping he wouldn’t follow. That would give me a lot of psychic chips to use in this game, but he was right there, reaching over to open the door for me.
I moved over to a couch in front of the long windows, which now only reflected the warm room against the deep black velvet of a moonless Hungarian night. He took a chair beside me. Hmmm. In our little one-ups-man-ship game, did that signify?
SNAP: New Talent Page 2