Deadwire

by A K Blake

  The Consort Rex stood apart, not mingling like his son. His expression didn’t seem angry, more somber. Iona wondered how much he knew, if he could hear them making jokes about him, bolstered by one another’s feelings of bravado, enjoying a false confidence in their shared cowardice.

  Kaius shook his head. “Welcome to Laemia, where the only people treated worse than arena fodder are the monarchs. Did you see the news? Dieda, that message was a nasty piece of work. I won’t say I’ve never been ashamed of working for the Progressives, but that was a low point. I hate to think what it’s costing the Prince and Consort to put on a pleasant show like that. Poor bastards.”

  Kaius shook his head again, looking down at his glass through dark lashes and running his finger absentmindedly over the rim. It was the first kindness Iona had heard anyone say of the Consort Rex, and she was not prepared for the overwhelming nature of the gratitude she felt suddenly wash over her. It was such a small thing to say, and it was ridiculous she knew to feel gratitude on behalf of two vampires she didn’t even know. More ridiculous still to extend it to Kaius in particular, considering how they’d met. He was categorically ill-equipped to offer any support more substantial than words. Yet words were more than anyone else had offered.

  She rarely saw Kaius serious, but she enjoyed the transformation. He looked more fragile somehow, delicate. He took another sip from his drink, scanning the room over the rim of his glass before making a face and nodding toward a table several yards away.

  “Speaking of bastards, looks like some old friends of ours are here.”

  Turning, she saw several vampires she didn’t recognize, though she noticed they were cleancut and not dressed in green. They wore disdainful expressions on their faces. Then one of the vampires sat, and Iona was treated to a view of someone she would be hard put to forget. It was the vampire from the Progressives’ compound, the pale one with the washed out eyes and the markings on the backs of his hands. He looked as sallow and foreboding as before. He didn’t need a costume to appear surreal.

  But, more concerning, he was speaking into the ear of the one vampire she had been sure would not show his face. Eris finished listening and turned from the pale vampire, waving him off in the quick, assured sort of movement of one who is accustomed to being obeyed. He looked out across the party, and his head turned in her direction.

  How dare he show his face? Iona welled up with rage. She thought she might explode. When she spoke, it was all she could do to keep from hissing.

  “‘Friends’ is hardly the word I would use.”

  “Want something to take your mind off of it? How about a dance?”

  “Anything is better than this.”

  Tossing the contents of his drink back faster than she could blink, Kaius was at her side, bowing gallantly and holding out his hand. Unlike the older vampires, he did not try to sweep her away, instead leading her at a deliberately human pace to an empty corner of the dance floor. Iona was startled by the warmth of his hand, so much hotter than a human’s would be, the heat of his grip pulsing against her skin. He was careful, guiding her gingerly into position, as if she were brittle, and moving his free hand around her waist with a slowness that, in her current state, she found infuriating.

  “I’m not that delicate.”

  “Apologies, I don’t dance much with humans.”

  “No, you just shoot them and tie them up.”

  For a moment, he went very still. The fast tempo, happy music swirled around them. Iona felt herself turn red, though more with anger or embarrassment she couldn’t tell. It wasn’t Kaius she was angry at. Or was it? After all, shouldn’t she be?

  “Forget it, it was meant to be a joke.”

  “No, you’re right. That isn’t something I’m proud of.” He straightened, dropping her hands, which instantly felt cold, and looking at her directly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you then, but I do now, and you deserved to be treated with greater respect.”

  “Just because you know me?”

  “Because I know you, yes.”

  She said nothing, watching him with a stare that could melt lead.

  “But also because it was wrong. Look, this isn’t something that comes easily to me. Honestly, before you, the only humans I spoke to regularly were servants. Well, I suppose you’re a servant too, but you’re not my servant...I can’t explain it well. It was easier with the servants at home for everyone not to get too friendly. It...confused things. I thought. But getting to know you has made me think that actually, maybe a little confusion wouldn’t have been so terrible.”

  Stiffly, she said, “Well I’m glad I could help illuminate things for you.”

  He looked frustrated, though at her or at himself she couldn’t tell. The song that had been playing ended, and another one began.

  “Iona, I am sorry. Truly.”

  She liked Kaius, they had grown close in the short time since he’d arrived. Part of her wanted to let it go, wanted to get back to the way they had been a moment before, to feel the heat of his palm against her fingers again. But now that they’d started, there was no turning back.

  “I believe you, Kaius. I believe you that you think you mean it, or that you mean it now. But in a week, or in a few hours...who can say? I believe you. It’s just not the same as trusting you.”

  “I understand.” He nodded. “That’s fair, trust has to be earned. And I will earn it, Iona, believe me.”

  “You will? Why is that so important to you? I’m nobody. Why do you care?”

  “I don’t-I’m not sure exactly. Just call it...righting a wrong.”

  “Mm. Well then. I look forward to seeing it.”

  He bowed formally. “Milady.”

  She felt a strange surge of power, looking at the exposed nape of his neck. Perhaps so much time around vampires was rubbing off on her. Then he straightened, and the moment was gone.

  “Now. Could we maybe go back to having fun? Because I’m a terrible philosopher, but what I am good at is dancing.”

  This time he managed more of a middle ground between vampire and human pace, though it was still a shock every time, coming into physical contact him. He was so solid, not yielding at all when her weight pushed against him in the natural way a human would have. When she mistook his intentions, moving right when she ought to have moved left, she bashed into him, and it was like running headlong into the face of a cliff.

  “Alright, I see that we need to go back to the basics here. I supposed I should have guessed there wasn’t exactly a master class in ballroom etiquette down in the grand old Rasuk Woods. Here, watch me.”

  He dropped her hands, flickering to stand beside her, showing her a simple step and waiting a beat for her to catch up. Iona tried to concentrate on his lessons in order to quell the rising clamor of thoughts swelling inside her brain. Warmth flooded quickly away from her palms where Kaius’ skin had been pressed against them. There was a suddenly yearning in her, a want for that heat, not just on her hands, but against her whole body. What would it feel like to be held by him, his body enveloping her like a kiss from the sun?

  “Did you get that?”

  For once she was glad she could chalk her inattention up to gracelessness.

  ***

  It took the better part of several songs, but she was a quick learner, and Kaius was a surprisingly good teacher, more patient and self-deprecating than she would have expected. She’d never been one for dancing, but she was surprised to find it an excellent distraction, requiring her full attention while also managing to be fun. She became daring, falling into twirls, secure in the knowledge that he would be there to catch her, giddy from the motion. After a few songs, Kaius suddenly flung her outward, their arms outstretched, before reeling her back in and holding her close. She felt high on the pressure of his hips against her hips, the spinning of the ceiling above her head. Perhaps it was the emotional residue of her earlier rage, but she felt alive, hypercharged. It was strange, she thought, how life had a way of sudd
enly coming together and at the same time making no sense at all.

  Chapter 15

  Night two of the jubilee was silver, ironically for energy, ironic because of the Queen’s lack thereof. Her dress was magnificent, ten thousand authentic diamonds sewn into the fabric. She beamed and shone like a sky full of stars. Yet this only served to magnify the rest of her lackluster appearance, her back slightly hunched in a disconcerting departure from her usual striking posture. She sat most of the night slumped forward in her chair. Tezin approached Iona not once, but four times throughout the festivities to bring her back blood. It was the most Iona had ever given, and she found that the alcohol very quickly went to her head. This was not entirely unwelcome, considering the events of the night before.

  The hall looked amazing, with extra decorating staff having been called in from all over the city in order to turn the room around in time. However, the effect was a bit numbing as well, too much silver and white, like a snowstorm. Then again, maybe the problem was not so much the decor as the mood. When Her Majesty left, much earlier than expected, the dancing seemed to immediately pick up.

  Characteristically, the Progressives had refused to conform, standing out from the dazzling crowd in their somber attire as if they were attending a funeral. The one exception was the cleric, looking furious that he no longer held the sole claim on colorless robes. There was a new vampire with the Party as well, one who appeared to be some kind of celebrity. A group of several Progressives took him around to select tables, propelling him to the middle of the group and introducing him as he shook hands all around. He wasn’t much to look at, despite his fine clothes, doomed by a weak chin and an emerging belly from his otherwise thin figure, but from the backslapping and the laughter he appeared to be quite popular.

  “Do you know who that vampire with the Progressives is?”

  Lux looked in the direction she was pointing but only shook her head and shrugged. “I’ve never seen him before.”

  She and Hann were on one of their rare breaks. Both of them had been even more active than usual during the jubilee, so wrapped up in their conversations and flirtations, working every angle to build up the best possible customer base, that Iona had barely seen them. She knew Lux had spent a fortune on her clothes for the event, but it seemed to have been an investment well made. She had danced every night with a duke who had taken a liking to her, a bit on the older side, but she said he acted young. Hann had gotten the messaging information for a young baron. They had done all this, despite giving out significantly more than their weight in blood, and somehow still managed to look healthy and invigorated. Lux tapped her foot, humming along with the music, her pale cheeks pink and flushed with excitement.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Nothing. No reason.”

  The truth was, there was something strange about the vampire, something she couldn’t pin down. It ran deeper than just his inexplicable allure. Something about his stance and silhouette, the tilt of his head as he swung toward her, tugged at the corner of her mind.

  As if on cue, the vampire finished his laborious introductions, breaking away from the rest of the group and making his way toward the givers. He accelerated to a speed that drew glares from those around him, though the Progressives feigned obliviousness. In an instant, he was in front of them. Lux smiled, languid despite his hurry, her face radiating charm. He seemed to not even notice this masterful piece of acting, his face set in a persistent expression of contempt.

  “I’d like some blood.”

  Iona struggled to keep her expression neutral. It had not taken her long to learn that bluntness was one of the most unforgivable blunders a court vampire could commit. They were too rich, too genteel, too cultured to simply walk up and demand what they wanted. They might have acted this way at home, with their own servants, but givers were of a different echelon, not simply there to do one’s bidding but to titillate and entertain. The usual transaction was a bit like a game, a nauseating back and forth repartee that had been so often repeated it was no longer anywhere near witty. It was a competition Iona hated and at which Lux excelled. Even now, in the face of such baldness, she couldn’t shake the affectation.

  “Why, sir, you certainly are candid! But of course, it would be my pleasure.”

  Lux reached out her arm, only to realize see that the vampire had not brought a glass. He looked at her forearm like he’d never seen one before. She paused.

  “Well. I suppose we’ll be needing a drink for you. Are you a wine drinker?”

  “I don’t want a drink, I want blood.”

  “An empty cup then. As you wish. Sir.”

  After a brief conversation with a confused bartender, the necessary container was procured. Lux filled it less than half full and handed it the vampire. They both expected him to walk away, but instead he downed the entirety of it in one swallow, running his tongue over his teeth as if to ensure not a drop was missed.

  “What kind is this?”

  “What kind?”

  “What kind of blood.”

  “Ah. Optime.”

  “Is that the highest?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Is that the best kind there is. Isn’t there a better one? Praely something?”

  There was a pause. For the first time since Iona had seen her with a customer, she saw annoyance creep into Lux’s expression. Her smile became fixed, the sparkles in her eyes hard like ice.

  “Optime is widely enjoyed and thought to be among the most delicious, my own blood in particular. However, there are some who prefer a praedulcis.”

  “What humans here have praedulcis?”

  Hann had been listening with increased amusement he had barely restrained. Now, he chose to interject, sweeping his arm outward in a gesture directed toward Iona.

  “Why our own Iona here is the only praedulcis on staff at the moment.”

  The vampire snapped his head toward her in a too quick movement, dark eyes staring at her with a look that seemed somehow triumphant.

  “Iona. Ah yes, I see now. I remember. No wonder everyone thought you were so special.”

  He moved closer to her, sticking the now empty cup out so that it was nearly thrust into her hand. Iona’s expression was stony.

  “Sir, I don’t know who has misinformed you, but—"

  “Sylton? Where are you? Come back here!”

  She was cut off by the sound of one of the Progressives calling for him, speaking in a condescending sort of tone that brought to mind a the cajoling voice one might use on a child with a bad temper. The vampire named Sylton scowled.

  “I’m busy!”

  “You can do that later. Just now, we need you over here. There are some kind people we’d like to introduce you to. Come now, don’t be rude!”

  He paused and seemed to consider ignoring the order. However, after a moment he frowned and raced away, flickering at full velocity as before. Lux cursed under her breathe.

  “Can’t believe I had to waste my blood on that. You’re lucky you didn’t have to.”

  “Yes, thanks for doing your best to dump him on me, Hann.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Please. All you had to do was say no. I would’ve gotten a kick out of seeing you stutter, though. I, sir, I don’t! I’m not! I just!”

  Lux made a rude gesture. “Come off it, Hann, everyone knows you’re just jealous.”

  “Jealous? You wouldn’t catch me waiting around, night after night, hoping for some old bag to finally ask for me. It’s pathetic. I’d rather make my own way any night than be chained to the Queen like a whipped puppy.”

  “Seems like you're the one fawning over any vamp that moves. Why don't you go do some more of your tricks for them, like the good little pet that you are?”

  “Sure. Enjoy your chat.”

  He stalked away, the white of his outfit quickly blending with the decorations. Not for the first time, Iona resolved to look into his state of affairs. She’d always resisted pulli
ng the trigger out of vague sense of solidarity. Even as a prick, he was one of them, a giver limited and trapped in the same ways that she was. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t use some reminding of his vulnerabilities. His social media accounts would no doubt make for some very interesting daily reading.

  She turned back to Lux. “Thank you.”

  “It’s nothing. I like telling him off anyway.”

  “What should I do next time, if a customer doesn’t understand I’m companioned?”

  She shrugged, her shoulders a cascade of glittering silver fringe. “Call for Obrax?”

  Something about the set of her face and her distant expression reminded Iona that this was a “problem” Lux was not privileged to have. Turning back to the party, she sipped her drink and said nothing for a while. The rest of the night passed in a crystal haze of uneventfulness.

  ***

  Night three was gold, for prosperity and spiritual wealth. The decorations oozed money. Every inch of the great hall was coated in gold leaf. Kaius, decked in a shirt made of fabric with genuine metal fibers in it, felt he’d nailed the theme, even if he was unfashionably early. He’d long ago made it his life mantra to always arrive late to a party, a maxim that hadn’t failed him yet. However, tonight he had decided to come a bit earlier than usual, barely an hour after the official start of the ball. Somehow he didn’t think the Progressive’s would appreciate his impeccable logic for explaining how showing up late to work made his results better. The last thing he wanted was for that creepy white cleric to decide he wasn’t doing his job and send him back to bagging humans. Just the thought of putting that uniform back on and jumping to obey Citra’s every order set him scratching at his neck. It was as if he could feel the camouflage collar against his skin.