House of Cards

by Waters, Ilana

  “But what happens if you refuse?”

  “I tried that at first, right after I was turned. He had a family—very similar in looks and composition to my own—tortured and murdered right in front of me.”

  Sherry gasped. “God, that’s awful!”

  “Indeed. And he said more would meet the same fate if I defied him again. Or tried to run away—in any form.”

  It took Sherry a moment to understand what he meant. “Suicide.”

  “Right. Even the sweet release of death is denied me. But I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else suffering on my account. Better only one suffer—myself—than hundreds, or even thousands, of innocent mortals. At least when I . . . take them, it is in the quickest and least painful way I can.”

  “But why won’t the Master let you go?”

  “Like many of small minds and even smaller hearts, he sees people as his possessions. Mortal or immortal, it makes no difference. He wants them to serve him with utter loyalty and devotion, unquestioningly. He fears any kind of change, especially that which reflects poorly on him. Like one of his creations running away.”

  “Is there any way to stop being a vampire? Like a cure or something?”

  Lucas gave another short, harsh laugh. “A cure? Not likely. Vampirism isn’t a disease, Sherry. It’s something that invades you and takes over. It changes who you are.”

  Sherry had a horrible vision of another vampire—not Lucas—sinking his fangs into her throat and draining her dry. Then she saw herself doing the same—to a helpless mortal this time—before she shook her head free of the disturbing images. They weren’t psychic visions. She didn’t really get those. They were just her fear and anxiety breaking through. Showing her what she might endure, might become.

  Awful. Having to hurt people almost every night. People you never met, and had nothing against, but you wouldn’t be able to stop. But if it was the only way to avoid dying . . . to be with the one you loved? What decision would you make then, if those were the only options?

  “So there’s no way to be cure—er, be changed back?”

  Lucas sighed. “None that I’m aware of. Of course, I haven’t had much chance to search, what with the Master’s interference. Besides, it’s not being what I am that wears me down so. It’s those with whom I must endure my existence.” He looked quickly at Sherry. “I was referring to the others at the House of Cadamon. Not yourself, of course.”

  “Oh, I know.” Sherry smiled sweetly.

  “Well, here we are.”

  They had returned to the alleyway with the secret manhole cover.

  “Do you think Vasha will still be mad at me?”

  “Oh, I imagine if she had any liking for you at all, it has long since vanished, never to return. But do not concern yourself with her. I am more powerful than she is, being older, and she knows it. If she were to give you any trouble, she’d have me to answer to.”

  Once again, Sherry believed him, and only hoped that it was enough to keep Vasha from tearing her to bloody pieces.

  Within minutes, they had descended into the tombs, and were wending their way back to the House.

  “Why were you at the square, anyway, Lucas? I know you didn’t come there to have your fortune told. And I assume you weren’t shopping for trinkets.”

  “My brethren and I were . . . hunting.”

  “Hunting?” Sherry’s throat tightened. The thought of it caused images to run through her mind. Enormous lions running after frantic, wild-eyed antelopes, like she’d seen on nature shows. It made her even more nervous when she realized Lucas and his so-called family must see her as the antelope.

  “For . . . food. We must vary our feeding routine when inside the city. If we feed in one place too long, it becomes noticeable. Mortals start asking questions. They grow uneasy. They begin to suspect.”

  “But why the square? It’s always full of people. Shouldn’t you be feeding—er, looking—in a dark alley or something?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Are you trying to give me hunting tips? The dark alleys are where most of our victims end up. We typically lure them there. The last place they will ever see.”

  Sherry shivered.

  “However, we need to find suitable victims first. We focus on wayward travelers, the indigent, those with few known relatives.”

  “Like me. People no one would notice missing.”

  He nodded. “Exactly. Sad to say, but by the time your parents or anyone came looking for you, the trail would be long cold, your body’s final resting place a mystery.”

  She paused. “Lucas, what do you do with them?” She found her voice would not rise above a whisper. “The bodies, I mean? Where do they go?”

  “Quite a morbid, question, isn’t it? They go here, of course.” He gestured to the walls around him. “Or la Seine. The river accepts everything, but tells no one. She tells no one at all,” he said darkly.

  “Why weren’t you with your . . . with them, when I was taken?”

  “After our discussion about my future, I didn’t feel right about killing you, not that I ever feel right about killing anyone. We shared . . . a connection, you and I, if only for a moment. That would have made taking your life even harder. The guilt would have been truly unbearable. I didn’t realize you were the one they’d chosen until it was too late. I told the others to go on without me. I prefer to feed on those I’ve never seen before.”

  They walked in silence the rest of the way home. After they climbed the stairs that led to the drawing room, Sherry felt badly about bringing up so many painful subjects. She offered to do another reading for him.

  “Free of charge, this time,” she sang, as they went back to her room. She took hold of his cool, silken hand, and to her delighted surprise, he did not pull it away.

  Chapter 9—The Shape of Hearts

  Several days and nights passed. Sherry was still more than a little nervous every time she sat in the Great Hall, reading cards for the vampires. All were usually accounted for except Vasha, who kept electing to stay in her room. It was a fact for which Sherry kept thanking her lucky stars again and again.

  But an unpleasant task still lay ahead of her. She must continue telling fortunes for her captors. Even—or especially—when the predictions came true, if the vampires were not satisfied with their futures, her life was at risk. If there was no way of pleasing them with her psychic gifts, she hesitated to think of when and how they might dispatch her.

  The previous readings she’d done for Lucas still held true, however. The Moon continued pointing towards his inner conflict. The Queen of Swords showed his sorrow. But the Ace of Swords was new. Victory through endurance and inner strength, similar to Judgment. At least he appeared a bit heartened by that.

  But as the Moon kept coming up, Sherry noticed something about it for the first time. The Moon was portrayed as a person in her deck, but she’d never before examined its heart-shaped face. It now reminded Sherry of Kaileen.

  Once, she’d heard someone describe her sister’s face that way. Heart-shaped. It must have been when Kaileen was twelve, and Sherry herself was six. She took a permanent marker and drew a jagged heart all around Kaileen’s face while she was sleeping. What on earth had she been thinking? Her parents were furious, but strangely enough, Kaileen didn’t seem to mind. She’d gone to school proudly that day, showing off her ill-drawn heart to anyone who would look at her. Said her sister loved her so much, she’d written the fact on her face.

  It was that same loving face that was smashed in by the drunk driver. The coroner’s report said Kaileen’s head had gone through the front windshield. Kaileen’s heart-shaped face had been destroyed. Just like Sherry’s heart when her sister died.

  She was trying hard to push all thoughts of death—vampire, car accident, and the like—from her mind
one evening when she heard Lucas tap on the locked door.

  “It’s only me,” he called. “If you don’t want to get up, I can move the door’s bar for you.”

  “Go ahead,” Sherry replied, sitting on the bed. “Let’s see if you can really do it.”

  Slowly, the bar rose at an angle, and the door opened. Lucas stepped inside.

  “Wow!” said Sherry, pretending to be impressed. “Magic!”

  The corners of Lucas’s mouth turned up. “Indeed. Speaking of magic, why don’t you look behind the dressing partition there? I think a magic fairy might have left something while you were out of your room last night.”

  Eagerly, she disappeared behind the partition, but emerged with a confused look on her face.

  “A suitcase?”

  “I didn’t find much of a winter wardrobe at your flat, although I did manage to locate a few items I thought might be of use. I apologize for rooting through your things. I also picked up a few garments I felt might be needed to supplement them.” He pulled a shopping bag out from underneath the table.

  Half of Sherry wanted to squeal with delight, while the other half wondered how Lucas knew where she lived and how he had managed to get in there. She decided to ask him.

  “Oh, well, I-I . . .” he stammered. “I took your cell phone above ground and looked for the address. As for how I got in, well, I explained to the landlord that you’d been taken very ill, and would be recuperating in Provence with your father until further notice. He does live in Provence, right?”

  Sherry nodded. “And my mom’s in the States.” She didn’t elaborate about why that was so. Let Lucas think they were separated. Or maybe he’d figured out they were divorced. Regardless, she didn’t feel like explaining it right now.

  If the vampire suspected the reason her parents were living in different locations, he discreetly said nothing about it.

  “I deduced their whereabouts from your address book. Anyway, when the landlord heard I was your brother—” Sherry snickered at the deception. They didn’t even look alike—“and needed access to your flat so I could use your checkbook to pay this month’s rent, he was more than happy to assist me. Oh, and he was worried you would sublet the place while you were gone. He said to remind you that’s not in the lease.”

  “Don’t worry. The next time you see him, you can tell him I won’t be subletting to unsuitable characters anytime soon.”

  “Already done, pet.”

  Pet? Did he mean that affectionately, or literally? Did vampires really think of the mortals they kept as “pets,” the way her kind did with dogs?

  “I’m just wondering, Lucas, why the brother-sister act? Why not just manipulate my landlord with your vampire powers? Can’t you just make people do whatever you want?” Like you did with the maître d, Sherry wanted to say.

  “Sometimes.” Lucas pursed his lips. “But some mortals cannot be manipulated in that way. And occasionally, I enjoy using my creativity to do things—how shall we say? The hard way? Without using any magic. It becomes dull when you are able to employ it all the time.”

  “Wish I knew what that felt like,” said Sherry, without thinking.

  There was a pause before Lucas replied. “Yes, well, ah, since your cell phone contained your e-mail password, I used it to write a brief missive on your computer to everyone on your contact list. I said that you were doing fine, but you had an exciting new boyfriend, so they shouldn’t worry if they didn’t hear from you for a while. And I told your psychic friends in the square that you’d gotten a more mainstream job, and wouldn’t be continuing with your readings for now. Tierra says hi, by the way.”

  A twinge of sadness hit Sherry when he mentioned Tierra’s name. She hoped the psychics didn’t think her rude or ungrateful for leaving in such a hurry to pursue her new “job.”

  “I didn’t use your checkbook to pay the rent, of course. It came out of our own funds.”

  “What?” Sherry snapped out of her reverie regarding her former Place du Tertre associates.

  “I figured we’ve already taken so much from you, you should keep your meager savings for . . . well, just in case.”

  Just in case she ever escaped. It made her feel good that he still thought she had some hope in that regard, no matter how forlorn a hope.

  “Thanks,” she said, swallowing hard. “Now what’s in there?” Sherry pointed to the shopping bag that he’d mysteriously produced.

  Apparently Lucas felt there was a surplus of un-bought cashmere sweaters in the world, a fact that needed to be remedied by purchasing all he could find for her. When she finished unwrapping them from their crinkly tissue casings, at least twenty lay on her bed in a rainbow of colors. She marveled at how each was more beautiful than the last.

  After thanking him profusely, she went behind the dressing partition and tried one on. Without looking in the mirror, she already knew that it molded itself perfectly to her shape. She revealed herself and modeled it for him.

  He demurely tried to look away, but she could tell he appreciated her new appearance. It wasn’t just the style of the sweater. The deep pink color made her cheeks look more flushed, more alive. When she went to lycée she often wore this color for that very reason. It had driven all the boys wild. Okay, it had only driven one boy wild, and he was her boyfriend at the time. But still.

  Was Lucas thinking of taking her in his arms right now? Of kissing her? Of doing other things? She quickly ducked back behind the partition again. She definitely wasn’t ready for that yet. Maybe showing off her curves in front of Lucas was a bad idea. She didn’t want to give him too much encouragement. The furthest she’d ever gone with her old boyfriend was some awkward teenage groping. Sherry had a feeling that if she ever got that close to Lucas, it would be different—he was probably more experienced. Way more experienced. Of course, she was making a great many assumptions about him, including one that said he wanted her at all.

  “You know, it’s almost unfair,” she commented, as she changed back into her regular clothes. “You know everything about me, right down to the size of my underwear, and I hardly know you at all. I’ve never even seen your room.”

  “Would you like to?”

  Sherry was surprised at the offer. “I assumed the Master would have a conniption.”

  Lucas shrugged. “Hardly. I mean, you’d never get in there unaided. So I scarcely think it matters. It’s not that much to see anyway. At least my quarters are not.”

  “Well, if you don’t think it’ll get you into trouble . . .”

  “Not at all. It’s through the drawing room. Right this way, m’lady.”

  M’lady?

  As they walked down the hall, Sherry noticed a few of the other vampires to whom she hadn’t been introduced. Two men in particular were talking closely and smiling at one another.

  “That’s Adrian,” said Lucas, pointing. “And Peter.” It was strange how he could answer questions she hadn’t even asked yet. She only hoped he’d been truthful when he said he couldn’t read her thoughts.

  Sherry watched in astonishment as the taller one, Peter, pushed Adrian playfully against the wall, and then leaned in for a long, passionate kiss. He placed his hands on either side of Adrian’s face, while the smaller man wrapped his arms around Peter’s waist.

  “They’re lovers.”

  Sherry tried to look away, but couldn’t.

  “Uh, yeah. I gathered that.”

  The two men stopped kissing just long enough to glare at Sherry and Lucas. All at once, their joking and affection were gone, replaced by stone-cold looks. She didn’t blame them. She hadn’t even realized she was staring.

  “We should go.” Lucas motioned for her to keep walking. “I think they want to be alone.”

  “Oh yes, definitely. Now would be a good time to go.”<
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  As soon as they were out of earshot (or what Sherry considered to be earshot—it was hard to tell with vampires), she turned to Lucas.

  “Sorry, God, I didn’t mean to be so rude.”

  “They shouldn’t have looked at you like that. They did it on purpose to scare you. And don’t feel badly. They wouldn’t feel badly for you, no matter what type of situation you were in.”

  “No, I mean, it’s not like I’ve never seen . . . I didn’t want it to look like I was—”

  He laughed softly. “I understand, Sherry. You were just startled. Not homophobic.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t be. I mean, it would be perfectly all right with me if you were . . . however you were.”

  “Well, if you have no trouble accepting vampires, being gay shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

  Sherry’s heart fell.

  Lucas looked over at her. “But, I’m not. Gay, that is. Unless you are referencing the original meaning, which was ‘happy,’ but then, I’m not that either.”

  Sherry brightened again, although not at his state of unhappiness. Even though there was no way in the world she and Lucas would ever end up together, his not-being-gay removed at least one obstacle. Now she just had to overcome the facts that they were essentially both prisoners, she was likely to die at the hands of his brethren, and he would go on living a lonely and pathetic existence afterwards. Other than that, they were completely meant for each other.

  Sherry soon saw why the vampires weren’t worried about her sneaking into their rooms. She’d never be able to move the enormous stone door that led there. It was even thicker than she’d realized when she explored that part of the House her first day.

  She did think it was curious, though—the long entryway preceding the chambers where they slept. What possible reason could there be for the chains and manacles hanging from the ceilings there? Probably some leftover vestige from the earlier tombs, perhaps a place where prisoners left to die had been kept. At least that’s what she hoped. She hated to think the vampires had some other, more modern use for them. She stayed close to Lucas and moved as quickly through the entrance as possible.