A dance of shadows, where secrets swirl beneath silken veneers.
On my doorstep stood a vampire girl with black hair and teary eyes. Coffee had already pulled me out of the shit a few times, so no matter how much I wanted to close the door on her, I couldn't send her away. I finally invited her in, so she didn't have to sleep on our stairs. After two glasses of cheap wine—which I consumed, having nothing to offer Coffee but a pack of tissues—she finally spilled the beans.
"Alex..." she said, still in tears.
"Did he hurt you?" I asked.
"Aren't you surprised?" she sniffled.
I shook my head. "I suspected it must be him because he still hasn't come home."
"Oh," was all she said and blew her nose again.
I thought the tissues really served her better than half a bottle of wine.
"He said he couldn't help me because he had someone else he was interested in," the vampire girl declared.
I sighed deeply.
"What's this all about?" I asked, and she looked a little shocked.
Her lips quivered and a moment later she pressed them into a sharp line. All the while I sensed that it wasn't really that she was sobbing because her fragile little heart got broken.
"My father decided to marry me to some noble vampire I don't even know," she declared, "When I told him I didn't agree, he questioned why. Suddenly, I couldn't think of anything else to say but that I was madly in love. Then came the obvious question of who. I had to name someone..."
"Hm," I thought. "I see."
The only thing didn't understand was how she could have thought of Alex before me. After all, I'm a jackpot.
"My father will only relent if I find myself a suitable partner that he agrees to," she declared, "I had no choice."
I laughed. "But how could you think of Alex? It's absurd, you two don't fit together at all."
The girl made a pouty face and folded her arms in front of her breasts. "Alex is really nice and caring."
"Okay, I'll help you," I declared. "I'll talk to your father."
The girl looked surprised, then nodded slowly. In defense of a friend, I was ready to face Aida Albin Blutkaiser after the Fifth King and a few crazy necromancers, but deep down I would have preferred that this day would never come...
"Thank you," Coffee smiled softly.
I shrugged. I was not at all prepared for such sentimentality from the ice queen.
"Tomorrow night we're having a ball for the suitors," Coffee said, "Maybe... could you attend?"
I nodded. "Okay, I'll be there."
Well, yeah, I didn't know then how reckless this promise really was.
After Coffee went home, I thought it was time for me to get some rest. I was just about to doze off when I heard the front door slam, followed by nervous footsteps on the stairs. Alex threw himself into his bed, which creaked loudly under the sudden weight.
His heart was beating so frantically that I was afraid it would jump out of its place, while his violent panting was accompanied by muffled moans of pain. First, the tremors, then the pain—and finally Alex would change, whether he wanted to or not. Werewolves need to change shape every now and then. The most optimal time for this is on a full moon night each month when they don't suffer as much as usual.
Alex hasn't changed shape in five full moons, and that's only the last few times I've counted. Sooner or later, he'll lose control—normal werewolves will choose the best time and place to do this because it's inevitable.
I bit my lip. I thought he'd come to his senses and stayed out tonight because he was hunting in the woods.
The painful moans slowly died down, his heartbeat and breathing normalized. He fell asleep... Or rather passed out from the pain, more likely the latter.
I decided that the next full moon Alex would be transformed—whether he liked it or not.
(...)
I had the advantage of being one of the "seated" people, in one of the most secluded corners. I sat comfortably at the table, sipping the excellent, expensive red wine, waiting for the events to unfold with the calm of a martyr.
I ran my gaze over the vast space, which was itself the size of my house and the plot of land put together. In another secluded part of the room, fae were playing music. I don't know if I've mentioned that fae have a god-given talent for the arts, so some of them take more pleasure in music than in the destruction of a small village.
For a while, I watched the players, whose forms seemed to be carved from porcelain. I immediately realized that they were not of the moon fae. For example, the one who played the bass, had long hair of a bluish hue, while another had tiny brownish braids falling down his back. Then I was struck by the copper-red curls of the cellist and the almost black hair and dark brown skin of the violinist. I rarely see so colorful fae as they seem to be more well-behaved and avoid trouble altogether.
Even though they were playing at the back, the sounds seemed to dance around the room. It was as if I sucked them in with the air, only to have them vibrate in my lungs, permeating my entire being. There were only a few people besides me who remained seated, most of them were making acquaintances, greeting old acquaintances, or even dancing in the middle of the room.
All the silk, expensive fabrics, glittering jewellery and hypocrisy made me sick.
"Champagne?" asked an all too familiar voice.
I looked up into Mr Blutkaiser's face. His long, jet-black hair was slicked back and his features seemed even more tense than usual.
"Please," I said, standing up.
Mr. Blutkaiser merely snapped his fingers, and a waiter appeared beside him. The boy balanced a silver tray on his hand, and on it, in what was probably the most precious crystal goblet, was the most expensive champagne available. After the host reached for a slender glass, I took one myself. We didn't toast or anything—we weren't that close.
"Is this your first ball?" he asked the obvious.
He simply had to look at me to determine. With all the stylish, latest fashion outfits, mine looked really poor. I nodded, although I didn't need to. I could feel dozens of gazes measuring me from head to toe—I must have been an unusual phenomenon next to Blutkaiser.
"I had no idea that you wanted to claim my daughter's hand," the man remarked, then took a slow sip of the brazenly expensive drink, "I was truly surprised."
"I had no idea that forced marriages were still in vogue today," I shrugged. "I was truly surprised."
Blutkaiser had a dangerous smile on his lips. "You don't want to marry my daughter. Why are you here?"
Another shrug. "I don't think it's right to force your daughter into anything."
He laughed quietly but dangerously at the same time. "It is not uncommon among vampires to cement good family ties by marriage. I control my daughter's every move, she has no say in who to marry."
"Sounds cruel," I remarked.
"It is," he agreed, as he took another sip of champagne, "I've organized this ball in case someone catches her eye."
"Why do you want her to get married so badly?" I asked frankly, and he grimaced.
Aida Albin Blutkaiser would never have admitted that he was getting old. If not physically, then certainly spiritually. He was simply tired of centuries of mental battles.
"Tell me," I began in a low tone, which succeeded in getting the host's attention, "what do you know about the mysterious murders in town?"
My question did not surprise him, he had probably expected it.
"The nobles have nothing to do with it," he replied.
Oh, you don't say. As if I thought they were the ones who had gone mad and were trying to take over the world by killing innocent civilians...
"I thought so," I replied. "Haven't your men found out anything yet?"
"Not much," he admitted, "Although the clues point to a vampire, I doubt it."
"Why?" I frowned.
In fact, up until now, I'd been absolutely certain that some newborn vampire was on the loose.
"After the case of the Fifth King..." he was searching for the right word, "we tightened our rules. We already avoided creating second generations, but now everyone has to report it if it happens. Also, all second generations are obliged to register, otherwise they will be hunted down. And from now on, they will be restricted."
"What makes you think they will actually report it?" I raised an eyebrow.
"I don't think anyone would wish to incur the wrath of Crimson," he replied, "We are better off doing as he wishes, as all nobles have learned long ago. Besides, vampires tend to keep a low profile since the incident."
"All right, all right," I said, "So who do you think is trying to pin this on the vampires?"
Mr. Blutkaiser looked uncharacteristically bewildered, utterly clueless.
"Why do you care about the case?" he deflected.
"I'm not particularly invested," I shrugged. "I just like to stay informed."
He seemed to acknowledge the merit in that, pausing for a moment before sipping his champagne.
"Well, enjoy the night, then," he said, a barely perceptible sneer playing on his lips. "I'm sure it will be a most... memorable experience for you."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "If you survive, that is."
I had a perfect view of the room over the vampire's shoulder. The glances of the conversants occasionally darted towards me. The slowly swaying couples seemed to be competing for a better view of me—I had the attention of most.
"I hope you have fun," the vampire added and walked over to a small, fat old man.
Well, I wouldn't have bet on that after all. Not even in the slightest.
The social life of the nobles, which I had a taste of at this bloody ball, was no more than a system of rules, regulations, and rituals dressed in silk and velvet, necessary among the members to avoid being found dead after the first word of conversation. (This was it usually happened only after the second or third.)
I also learned that the nobility could insult each other in a subtle way that was almost artistic. This entire ball was about vampires flaunting their powers, perhaps forging new relationships—all typical nobles who just wanted one thing.
Of course, Blutkaiser was one of the greatest of these, having gained his rank and influence with the same weapons used against him. The only difference was that he did it more cunningly and elegantly.
No sooner had Blutkaiser left me than I found myself surrounded by a group of vampiresses. Each of them wanted to ask me for a dance, but they wouldn't even let me answer or speak, so I couldn't tell them that I wasn't going to dance with any of them. It crossed my mind to just watch the show as they beat each other senseless, but just before one girl could tear the other one apart, they all suddenly stopped.
"Ladies," the vampire began, "Let our guest breathe."
The women then looked for another target. I wasn't sure if this meant I had escaped being sucked dry during the night, or if I had just gotten even closer to it...
I assessed the man. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, with long blond hair tied in a ponytail. He had a tall, slender figure, a pointed chin, and unnaturally pale skin. A slight smile played on his pale lips, and his bright crimson eyes held a familiar gaze.
He wore a black silk shirt and a lace cravat around his neck. He looked like he had stepped out of a baroque painting, yet he wasn't in the ornate clothes most people wore. Instead, he wore all black, which accentuated his pale skin, fair hair, and unsettling eyes.
I sipped my champagne, which he watched as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. The next moment, he was beside me, leaning against the table in the same manner I was. I didn't attribute too much interest to him, continuing to watch the ball-goers.
But in reality, the monster within me was quite intrigued. He was the most powerful vampire I had ever encountered. He radiated an aura of power that stirred the beast inside me. It wasn't just curious—it was desperate, almost salivating, for a fight.
The primal urge to clash with this noble vampire was grotesquely strong, a desire to test strength against strength, power against power. The thought of sinking my teeth into his flesh and feeling his blood surge through me was exhilarating. Well, he was worth devouring for sure.
"You're not very friendly, are you?" he said, his smile widening.
"I don't like vampires," I declared bluntly.
"Aren't you here for the hand of Blutkaiser's daughter?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"She's an exception," I said flatly.
"And are you enjoying the ball?" he questioned, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"I'd enjoy it more if I could go home," I replied, and he chuckled softly.
"Interesting," he mused, "I thought someone like you would relish in the intrigue and danger of a night like this."
He felt the same. I saw it in his eyes. He felt the same desire to fight me.
I met his gaze, unwavering. "I prefer my intrigue and danger with less... formality."
Then he laughed out loud as if I had told the joke of the century... And I felt a bit threatened. A tricky one, huh?
"Shay!" I heard Coffee shout.
I immediately fixed my eyes on her figure and walked over to the girl without saying goodbye. Coffee immediately grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the dance floor. She looked tense, but only someone who knew her well could tell. We swayed around for a while, and then I remarked to Coffee that that navy dress looked really good on her. She giggled and finally let up a little.
"Just stay away from that vampire," she said.
"Why?" I asked.
"He was going to be my fiancé..." she sighed.
"Ah," I said, "I can see why you don't want the wedding..."
She giggled, though I could hear in her voice that she was still hiding something from me. I decided not to press her further.