The Obscurati

by Wynn Wagner

  “Proper pipes with proper suction,” Father Johannes said. “You can come play my organ any time you want.”

  I understood why Ludwig had left.

  BECAUSE Pierre knew almost every vampire in the world, we would be having vampire royalty. Security was an issue. He brought along an assistant who took charge of the hovering crew of vampires. A couple dozen vampire warriors joined the group. Pierre got everyone trained and situated a week before the actual ceremony so he would be free to concentrate on his wedding.

  It was going to be Lonny’s first look at vampire security. I think he was excited but didn’t want to join that detail. He was happy running the estate: our little empire. Pierre and Lonny worked with the security staff so our guests could get through the invisible bubble over the estate without setting off alarms.

  The groundskeepers went out of their way to make the grounds look great. By the time of the wedding, flowers were blooming throughout the garden, and not a blade of grass was out of place. The chapel is about a kilometer from the main house, and we had a new walkway installed. They repaved the parking lot by the chapel too.

  Our library and dining room were both laid out for the reception. There were snacks in the dining room and flowers all over the library. We opened up a wing of the mansion that rarely saw use because some of the visiting vampires might want to stay the night. When the carpenters were finished with the chapel, they moved to the unused bedrooms to make repairs in the unused parts of the mansion.

  I tried to get a handle on what this was costing us, but Oberon told me that I couldn’t count that high.

  “I was a math major,” I said.

  “Yeah, but that was a hundred years ago. They’ve invented new numbers since then. We can afford it, so shut up. It’s for Hamlet.”

  “Do I get the bride on my birthday?”

  “The bride? You mean Hamlet? Nein, you get no such thing. You already had Hamlet. He topped you once, and all you have left are memories.”

  “Ouch!” I said. “Quit hitting me.”

  “Quit being disgusting,” Oberon said. Somewhere along the way, he had stopped being my oversexed lover who wanted to screw everything in sight. This was borderline fuddy-duddy for Oberon.

  ON THE day of the wedding, Oberon had us wearing matching white ties, white vests, and tailcoats. I was ready to bop him if he tried to get me into a top hat, but that never came up. The queen sent ahead three white carnations for us to wear. She included Lonny, which I thought was sweet. It made Lonny feel really good, even though he wasn’t part of the wedding itself. Point for the queen.

  “I hope she didn’t send flowers for the church,” I told Oberon.

  “Why?”

  “The foundation will crack under the weight of so many flowers.”

  I barely stepped out of Oberon’s fist as it aimed at my arm. If vampires had been able to bruise, then I would have been black and blue everywhere.

  Pierre came wearing a tuxedo, very traditional, very Pierre. He looked exactly like everyone would expect a groom to look. He was always proper and understated.

  Hamlet was a whole different story. He was wearing something like a tuxedo, but it was obviously custom-made just for him out of midnight blue brocade and black satin. There were frilly things on each shoulder, but they were simple for Hamlet. They looked like twisted pipe cleaners or metallic worms, but they were frilly with glitter. He was trying to tone things down, but he had found the edge of tradition where he could go no further. He was absolutely Hamlet, but Pierre had convinced him to turn the volume down a few ticks. Hamlet cut his hair and had it gelled to make spikes, not quite a faux-hawk, but along those lines. He had somebody add highlights to his hair, and I saw a faint trace of glitter in his hair and on his face. I had to admit that Hamlet was stunning.

  I think Oberon had us dress alike and tone everything down so we wouldn’t compete with Hamlet. Oberon is the one who usually turns heads, and his Goth clothing helps emphasize everything that makes him attractive. But this night belonged to Hamlet and Pierre, and Oberon didn’t want to detract from that. He didn’t even wear lipstick, but I did see faint traces of guy-liner. I guess not even Oberon was able to go “cold turkey” on makeup after a hundred years of wearing it.

  Security had all the visiting vampires land in a clearing a hundred or so meters from the chapel. The clearing was hidden from the chapel by a tall hedgerow. It was mainly for the benefit of the regular members of the church. They were invited, and they were absolutely welcome, because we thought of them as family.

  The chapel was packed: church members, our human blood donors, groundskeepers, and visiting vampires. Queen Cécile was treated like Hamlet’s mother. She wore a dark dress with white lace and a tasteful and understated tiara. She caught Hamlet eyeing her tiara covetously and wagged her finger at him.

  Oberon stood with Pierre as the best man, and I stood with Hamlet as the other best man. It was standing room only, and plenty of people were standing two or three deep on the sides of the chapel and way in the back.

  The actual marriage rite, according to the priest, was the adelphopoiia rite, a same-gender rite from an Orthodox church. He said the translation he would be using dated to 1647. I had no idea that Orthodox Christians, at least some of them, were okay with gay marriage. Good to know. Point for them.

  The priest started, “Blessed is the kingdom of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal, have mercy on us. Glory to the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages.”

  Everyone in the church said, “Amen.”

  “All-Holy Trinity, have mercy on us,” the priest continued.

  “Lord forgive our sins,” said the congregation, human and vampire alike. They were reading from little booklets that we had printed. Oberon and I just stood there because we had forgotten to get booklets for ourselves.

  The priest asked Pierre and Hamlet to put their left hands on a large Bible while holding candles in their right hands.

  “Be careful, Hamlet,” I thought. “We don’t need you to sizzle on your wedding day.”

  “I can hear you,” the queen said in my head.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I thought. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “Let us pray to the Lord,” the priest said. “Lord our God, who has granted us all things for salvation and who has commanded us to love one another and to forgive each others’ transgressions, now you yourself, Master and lover of mankind, to these your servants who have loved each other with spiritual love, and who approach your holy temple to be blessed by you, grant to them a faith unashamed, a love unfeigned. And as you gave your holy disciples your own peace, also grant these all the petitions for salvation, and eternal life. For you are a merciful and loving God, and to you we ascribe glory, to the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Let us pray to the Lord.”

  “Wow, this is really happening,” Hamlet said in my head.

  “Lord our God,” the priest said, “the omnipotent, who made the heaven and the earth and the sea, who made man according to your image and likeness, who was well-disposed to your holy martyrs Sergius and Bacchus becoming brothers, not bound by the law of nature but by the example of faith of the Holy Spirit; Master, do send down your Holy Spirit upon your servants, who have approached this temple to be blessed. Grant them a faith unashamed, a love unfeigned, and that they may be without hatred and scandal all the days of their lives through the prayers of your immaculate mother and of all the saints. For yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory, of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and to the ages.”

  Father Johannes took the gospel and put it on a table. Then he continued, “By the union of love, the apostles join in the praying to the Master of all; themselves committed to Christ, they extended their beautiful feet, announcing the good news of peace to everyone.”

  The congregation said, “Have mercy on us, O God.”


  We really should have gotten books, but Father Johannes switched to a more familiar liturgy for the wedding vows.

  “I do.”

  “I do.”

  And so forth.

  “I now pronounce you….”

  And so on.

  Hamlet and Pierre knelt in front of the altar. Oberon and I went to sit on the first row of pews. The priest then said Mass using a really old version of that liturgy. I had seen it before, but I figured he only used the old liturgy for midnight Mass. My bad.

  Father Johannes made it clear that members and nonmembers were all welcome to join in Holy Communion. Plenty of vampires got into the communion line, and none burst into flames. I wanted to write a story for some newspaper or magazine so I could watch all the fundamentalists get worked up over vampires taking part at church.

  Germany has recognized gay couples for years. Pierre and Hamlet said they would be going to get registered, which gave them all the same legal rights as heterosexual couples. In Europe, it is common to have both a church ceremony and a civil ceremony, and that was what they planned to do.

  After the ceremony, we all walked up the new stone path to the main house. Even our vampire guests used the walkway instead of just flashing up to the house. It was a perfect night for walking: no clouds, not much wind. I didn’t hear any of the humans complain about the temperature, so that must have been okay too. It could have been icy or sweltering outside, and I would never have known because vampires don’t feel temperature.

  If any of the vampires had issues with being in a church, they kept it to themselves. The idea that vamps can’t be around crosses is the work of a fiction writer. You can go ahead and believe what you want about crosses and mirrors, but none of those stories are true. The stories about garlic are partially true—garlic stinks on somebody’s breath—but I had that opinion long before I became a vampire.

  Our house staff was dressed in formal attire, mostly white coats. They all loved Hamlet and wanted his special day to be absolutely wonderful. And that it was.

  Right after a perfectly lovely Baroque composition, I heard them playing “Just Dance.” Oberon and I looked at each other. We found Lonny, but he just shrugged. Maybe he really didn’t know about it.

  “Lady Gaga from a chamber orchestra,” the queen said in our heads. “I can die in peace now. I’ve heard everything.”

  “It was either that or ‘Beautiful, Dirty, Rich’,” Hamlet said, using mind-words. “It was a toss-up.”

  We all mingled and drank champagne. Oberon and I were introduced to everyone as the masters of the estate. Several said they really missed Menz and offered condolences. One or two mentioned Paco. A regular parishioner of the church on the estate told me that they all offered a novena of Masses for both Menz and Paco. Father Johannes told me that was an old tradition. It involved nine Masses in a row. The human churchgoers were grieving for Menz and Paco without telling us about the services. I mean, they were free to use the chapel whenever they wanted, but I would have liked to know about the tribute. The priest and I ought to have some kind of regular meeting just to check on things. When I found him, the priest was talking to the queen, so I decided to postpone my chat with him for another day.

  All of the parishioners were practically giddy over the repairs and improvements to their chapel. I made sure they all met Lonny and knew how to send him e-mail or voicemail. Lonny needed to experience Father Johannes directly. It would be a character-building exercise.

  The staff carried around trays of champagne glasses. The food for our human guests was in the dining room. Those who wanted to snack went there. Vampires and humans both drink champagne, so it was nice to see the staff with the trays. Lonny ran the house like clockwork.

  Most of Pierre’s friends could have been members of the French Foreign Legion or the US Marine Corps. None of them seemed uncomfortable around Hamlet. Point for them.

  Nobody mentioned sniper rifles or the Obscurati. If anyone other than the queen and Pierre knew about our source of income, they kept it to themselves. If any of them really knew they were in the home of a deadly vampire hit squad, there might not have been such a large crowd.

  Pierre was introducing Hamlet to all his friends, and they seemed happy to meet him. Oberon saw him lift up one of his feet when Pierre gave him a big hug.

  “Ouch,” I said as Oberon punched me again. “What did I do now?”

  “Hamlet’s shoe,” Oberon said as he pointed. I looked, and there was some writing done in felt-tip: “THIS SIDE UP.”

  “Funny,” I chuckled. “And I think the soles of Hamlet’s feet will always be up in the air. But I am completely innocent of this one. It had to be one of the humans.”

  “Right,” Oberon growled. Off in the distance, I saw a couple of humans giving each other a fist bump. A groundskeeper was handing one of them some kind of folding money. I don’t know what the wager was, and ignorance was bliss.

  I rose and tapped my champagne glass with a letter opener. Ting. Ting. Everyone stopped and looked my way, and I started to raise my glass.

  It was my duty to offer the first toast, but I couldn’t do it. I felt tears coming. If I started to say anything, there would be no way to finish. There was somebody missing from the celebration, and I had to acknowledge my mentor. The weight of everything came crashing onto my chest. My mentor was gone, my mother was gone, and I didn’t want to have to be the adult. It had never been my intention to live in Germany. Nobody ever asked if I wanted to be a vampire or to run one of the largest hops farms on the continent. And yet it was all there. People were all around, but I wanted Menz to be there. I wanted my mommy to tell me to eat my cereal. Menz had had so much more to teach me, and Paco’s humanity had made me feel impotent. They had so much knowledge and wisdom, and I would never have them as my teachers. It was like I was on a desert island with no hope.

  For a sliver of a moment, I was all alone. It hurt because I didn’t want to be there. Almost as soon as I felt so alone, others stepped up without being asked. All this baggage, and I had to be the adult.

  I caught a glimpse of Lonny working his way to the “fist bump” guys on the far side of the room. There was no way to tell what he was going to do, but I suspected it wouldn’t be pleasant. Lonny was with us, and he was with me as a volunteer. He had laid down his life as a human just to be with Oberon and me. How do you even thank somebody for that? How could I reconcile that with the fact that there is no way I was worth giving up his life? I saw Lonny heading back over to us, so he must have taken care of the situation. He was a vampire not because he wanted to suck blood, but because he wanted to be with Oberon and me. Fuck what the rest of society might think. I know there’s value in that. Lonny is vampire and gay, and I am humbled to know him.

  Oberon was beside me, and he stepped up to help. I didn’t have to ask him to be there, but he saw that I wasn’t going to be able to offer the first toast. I knew that I would never be completely alone. Oberon was a volunteer too. He had asked to become a vampire. Oberon had volunteered to hand over his life to be with me. He put his body down on a bed and asked me to drain all his blood and take his last breath, and he did it because he was in love with me. Friggin’ wow. Yeah, the world really sucks some days. The universe throws plenty of shit that I’m supposed to carry. But the minute I think it is too much to lift, there is somebody to pitch in without me having to ask. Lonny was nearby again. I felt him pat my butt just to let me know he was there. He put a clean handkerchief into the palm of my hand. I dropped the other one with all my blood tears on the floor and gave him a quick nod.

  Oberon spoke. He offered a toast to those who couldn’t be at the wedding, and everyone knew that he meant Menz and Paco. I held Lonny’s fresh handkerchief at my eyes because I felt blood flowing down my cheeks in streaks. I missed them, Menz and Paco. It was cruel to them and to everybody they left behind, and it all seemed to hit me hard. This was Hamlet and Pierre’s day, and I wasn’t about to let my tears detract from that.
I thought that I was going to have to leave the room, but somehow my tears stopped.

  Oberon then offered the toast to Pierre and Hamlet as he pulled me close with his free arm. I’m sure it was a nice toast, but I have no idea what words he used. Oberon was there for me. He saw that I needed help, and he was just there. Friggin’ wow. I squeezed his arm as I pulled him close and leaned on his shoulder.

  The queen (the one with the tiara, not Hamlet) rose and called Hamlet and Pierre the strangest and most wonderful couple she had ever known. Several people around the room agreed with her. She wished them five thousand years or more of bliss. The humans chuckled. The vampires knew she was serious.

  I was holding Oberon with my left hand. Lonny walked up and held my right hand. He leaned in with yet another fresh handkerchief and wiped my tears. They both squeezed my hands. Talk about the strangest “couple.” I had both of my men. Both of them had given the ultimate sacrifice to be with me. I squeezed their hands, and they squeezed back.

  “One for all,” I whispered as I brought all three sets of hands together.

  “All for one,” Oberon said. “The Three Muska-queers.”

  “We’re the queen’s queens,” Lonny said.

  “Oy vey,” Queen Cécile said in our heads. “What have we created?”

  “I am so sorry, ma’am,” Lonny thought. “It won’t happen again, Your Majesty.”

  “Oh, please,” she said in our minds. “Of course it will. You guys are a hoot. Why the Dickens do you think I let them turn you?”

  Lonny stood motionless, but I saw his eyeballs straining to look my way. I just winked.

  HAMLET got everyone’s attention. Hamlet faced Pierre with a raised champagne glass, and this is what he said:

  “When, in disgrace with Fortune and men’s eyes,

  I all alone beweep my outcast state,

  And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,