Four, p.22
Four, page 22
“Ren, you are being more Renlike than usual,” Georgia said. “What are you up to?”
His face changed to one of pure innocence. “I am not up to anything. I am merely the facilitator tonight.”
“Nice ride,” Georgia said as she relaxed into her own private wave of air-conditioning. “And it caters to all kinds, I see.”
Ren nodded. “Always use Sunset Limousine. It’s the only reliable bonded-driver service on the East Coast. Don’t worry about the cost, my master has already paid.”
The limo soon filled with the local hip-hop station, causing both Georgia and Geoffrey to start tapping their feet and swaying to the beat. Even Ren could be caught from time to time nodding his head as they drove around town. Georgia finally took the time to slip open the vellum envelope and open a very formal invitation.
“I hereby invite you into my new residence – S. D.,” was scrawled in rather rough script in comparison to the elegant stationary.
“New residence?” Georgia asked.
“An invitation,” Geoffrey gasped.
The limo rolled to a stop in front of a rather imposing-looking brick building not far from the location of Georgia and Stefano’s first date. Ren exited first and walked around to let out both Georgia and Mr. Lambley to the doorstep. In lieu of a doorman, an impressive key-card lock and a number pad awaited them. Ren swiped his phone in front of the sensor and then held open the door.
“Don’t forget your invitation please, Georgia,” Ren warned.
“You managed to find a place in Boston? I wonder what the rent is like here,” Georgia said as she stepped into a lobby straight out of an old movie. Her shoes clicked delightfully on a checkerboard of black and white marble and echoed up through the spiral staircase.
“Did this used to be a hotel?” she asked as she saw a massive desk running along one wall.
“This was the Intercontinental, wasn’t it?” Geoffrey asked in awe. “Miranda used to sit right over there,” he said, pointing to an empty chair. “But I thought—”
Georgia eyed the long, narrow windows, all of them fitted with either dark stained glass or blackout curtains. Every surface was glass, metal, or stone, with the rare exception of some massive flowers in vases along the floor. Georgia couldn’t resist running a finger along them to feel the silken leaves.
“Was this a hotel for vampires?” she asked.
“Very perceptive, sweetheart,” a new voice said from the stairs. “It was a home away from home for visiting vampires from the 1820s all the way through the 1960s. The vampires that owned it suffered a rather terrible fate when one decided to test a Lung’s patience over the Newark Armistice Zone, so it was left abandoned. A developer decided to turn it into lofts recently, but when the real estate market crashed, the project was abandoned.”
“You bought the Intercontinental?” Mr. Lambley said as he padded around the room, still wide-eyed. “You really did it?”
“Parts of it were parceled off, but I was able over time to purchase the bits back. I can be very persuasive when required.” Stefano laughed as he skipped down the stairs. “I think at one point they were even thinking of tearing this place down.”
Georgia followed her boss to an out-of-place modern sectional and television tucked in one corner. “The remodeling and restoration is obviously still a work in progress,” Ren said. “My master chose to focus on the penthouse first. However, he did remodel two additional rooms on the fourth floor just for you, Mr. Lambley.”
“You mean . . . ?” Geoffrey said hopefully.
“Yes, the blue rooms are restored as best I could,” Stefano said. “I even managed to get the fountain on eBay.”
Geoffrey giggled and took off up the stairs with speed that Georgia had never seen before. She tore after him, not caring as the hem in her skirt kicked up. Stefano and Ren caught up around floor three. All of them ran past painters’ cloths and scaffolding until the dusty stairs gave way to temporarily tacked-down carpet. Geoffrey bounced up and down as he reached the freshly painted white door until Ren finally put him out of his misery and swiped his phone over the lock.
“Wow,” was all Georgia could say as she took in bright blue walls and stark white trim. A massive Moroccan-style canopy bed filled one half of the room, while a mosaic fountain and full bar made up the other. “What is their obsession with mirrors?” she asked as she stared at Ren’s reflection through the silk curtains.
Geoffrey walked slowly around the bed, poking at the fluffy rainbow of cushions and throws. He picked up a rather faded blue and white number and brought it slowly toward his face, breathing in the heady aroma of the antique cloth. “How did you get this?” he asked, also looking at Ren in the mirror.
The servant gave a curt bow. “Most of the soft furnishings and linens from this place were sold in a lot at Christie’s a few years back. With the assistance of Lady Minerva, I was able to retrace several of the original items. Those from the finished rooms are already in place, but I have several boxes in the basement if you want to help me unpack them, Mr. Lambley,” he said.
The vampire dropped the pillow and snatched up a surprised Georgia’s hand. “Oh, the stories I will have to tell you,” he started. “Miss Sutherland, you would not believe the individuals who have stayed in these walls.”
“Is it any crazier than having King Arthur for a grandfather?” she asked with a little wink.
“I never understood the obsession with him,” Stefano piped in as he plopped unceremoniously on the bed.
“Seriously? You can’t understand why King Arthur is a legend?” Georgia asked incredulously.
The younger-looking vampire started playing with the cushions, toying in particular with a gaudy golden tassel. His big brown eyes opened wide with mock innocence. “Not that I would ever mock the founder of the great Pendragon line, Gingersnaps, but you have to admit the only reason why your grandfather could get away with so much was that he had a big sword and a shining crown,” Stefano explained.
“Not this again,” Geoffrey protested.
“He united the British people,” Georgia chimed in.
“But he’s most famous for his wife running off with his best friend,” Stefano fired back.
“Round Table,” Georgia offered.
“Got a whole mess of knights killed chasing a magic cup,” was Stefano’s response.
“Was the sword and the stone part real?” she asked Geoffrey. Her face fell as he shook his head. “He still founded a vampire clan, right?”
“And got killed by his jealous son—a kid that I might add was begot by his sister—in a battle that killed a fair lot of humans from what I’ve heard. If he was around nowadays, he’d be paraded out on daytime TV before being a victim in some crime show that same night.”
“And you can judge Geoffrey’s family . . . why?” Georgia asked. “From what I could see, your grandma’s a racist and grandpa’s a bully that I’ve never heard of in all my history classes.”
Stefano burst out laughing. “You have quite a set of balls, sweetheart,” he said. “I can’t really argue about the fame. Unlike some families, the Jaegers take the whole rules about vampires staying out of humans’ perception a bit more seriously than others. I mean, don’t get me wrong, your family at least has the decency to hide being vampires in all their family stories, Geoffrey, but you have to admit they love to flaunt the drama.”
“Don’t you dare put us in the same class as the Tepes,” Geoffrey warned. “Now, all this talk is getting far too prickly for an evening out, don’t you think?”
“You are still so terribly limey, Gingersnaps,” Stefano sighed before turning his attention right back to Georgia. “But he is right about one thing. Tonight is supposed to be a night for romance and celebration. I still have so much more to show you, sweetheart.”
Georgia sighed deeply and gave an exaggerated roll of the eyes but still extended her hand. “Well, why don’t we finish the tour before you crazy kids start calling each other names again?” she said.
Ren turned to Mr. Lambley and gave another little bow. “If you would like, the bar is stocked with your favorite,” he said before pulling out an industrial-looking blender.
Once more the ginger-haired vampire was all smiles. He bounded to one of the stools and looked on hungrily as Stefano’s servant pulled out an ice bucket and a plastic bag of what could only be described as rat-sicles. Georgia allowed herself to be swept away in the arm of the Jaeger and slipped out of the door just as the first crunching sounds were audible.
As they climbed the stairs slowly, she finally slipped out from under his arm and formed a mini-blockade at the first landing. He smiled bemusedly as she crossed her arms over her chest and pointedly asked, “So, what is really up between you and Mr. Lambley? Sometimes I’m positive you hate each other, and other times you do . . . well, you do this,” she said as she motioned to the work in progress.
“Like all relationships, ours is complicated,” he said with an exaggerated European accent.
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Well, it is an answer, just not one that you like,” he corrected. “You went to the Solstice Ball. I know you weren’t listening to every conversation, but I’m sure you could feel the underlying tensions.”
“Oh, I got the general idea all too well. Jaegers and Pendragons equal Montagues and Capulets. It’s all rather Shakespearean.”
“You’re far closer than you even realize there,” Stefano laughed. “There are some stories I’ll have to tell you at another time.”
“If you try to tell me that William Shakespeare was a vampire, I will personally go find a wooden stake with your name on it.”
“Shakespeare? No,” he reassured. “Now if you want me to introduce you to Christopher Marlowe sometime, he’s undead and well and living in Uruguay.”
“You’re kidding, right?” she asked.
“Ask Mina Pendragon about the real reason why that old playwright was suddenly incarcerated and then stabbed before any sort of trial. Seriously, ask her and see what she says,” he said. “I can see the way you look at the Pendragons and then how you look at my family, but I swear to you, there are no angels in the world of vampires.”
“Well, to be fair, it was your family that looked at me like I was a thing and questioned if we had souls,” Georgia said. “Geoffrey said that most Jaegers think humans are cattle.”
“Did you ever wonder if your hamburger had a soul? Do you think you could justify eating bacon if you found out that pigs were the same as you?” Stefano asked.
“You’re asking the wrong gal about that, Steve,” she snapped. “Still, last time I checked, cows don’t talk.”
“Maybe they do when you are not around,” he said.
“So you think we are animals to justify eating us? I get it, but I think that’s why it’s a little easier to hang out with Mr. Lambley’s family.”
“So you think it’s better to feed on sentient, thinking, feeling creatures? Just to take that argument all the way to its end. Would it be right for you to feed on another human too?”
Georgia rolled her eyes. “This is like one of those stupid arguments I got into at college. You can go on and on about terrible what-if scenarios until you are blue in the face, but ultimately they are ridiculous. The Pendragons I’ve met all say that they feed but don’t take human lives. I’m sure it’s bullshit for some of them, but Mr. Lambley never treats me like walking steak. You’re just trying to change the subject.”
“I am?”
“What is all this crap between you and Mr. Lambley? I think you’re friends but your families are in the way. Is that really all it is?”
“Of course,” Stefano said quickly, but he shook his head involuntarily at the same time. Georgia continued to stare right through him until he finally raised his hands in defeat and splatted right down on the stairs. “You have to be the single most frustrating woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, Miss Georgia Sutherland!”
“Still not actually answering me,” she said flatly as she plopped down beside him.
“Just like you say, the Pendragons have their bullshit, and my family has it in equal share,” Stefano muttered.
“Go on,” she prodded.
“Even Asrun knows deep down that humans have something more to them, but to the Jaeger, a human dies when a vampire is born. There is nothing in common between what was before and what you are now. You think the Pendragons are so noble? Look at what they do. The Pendragon family only picks the very best of humanity, well, the best in their opinion, and turns them. They think that who they were before they died actually matters.”
“They think the human becomes a part of them,” Georgia said.
“But only the best of the best of humanity is worthy of such an honor.”
“Well, I’ve heard of King Arthur, but—”
“Each and every one of them was selected not because they were some amazing soul, but because of what they could offer the clan. Other than Lorcan, the accident, all of them brought riches, influence, or titles into their happy little family. Your boss was no exception. He was picked because he got them access to lucrative lands and a great deal of creatively acquired pounds sterling. His brother, Edwin, had to disappear so that they could eliminate a rival Canadian shipping company that dissolved without a clear heir. Did Geoffrey ever mention that he and his darling mother were the major shareholders that profited?”
“Well, no,” she admitted.
“You won’t find any poor Pendragons, nor will you find any without a thoroughly vetted pedigree,” Stefano sniffed. “You think they care about humans? They care about how humans can serve their interests. You are more than food, you’re toys to them.”
“Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “So is this about money?”
“This is about the simple truth that no matter what is said or done, the Jaegers are the killers, and the Pendragons are the heroes. I’ll tell you something, sweetheart; those heroes are the ones that spin the tales. They’re the only family with a millennia-old public relations team, that’s for damn sure.”
“I assume you mean Mina.”
Stefano nodded. “She was personally selected by Lorcan for her unique abilities. She likes to influence storytellers, writers, religious and political leaders, but above all, she weaves her way into the media of every age—making certain that every generation knows exactly how great and wonderful certain vampires can be.”
“You want me to believe that, um, King Arthur and the Round Table is a PR stunt?” Georgia asked.
“King Arthur is a human legend that comes back over and over—”
“Because it’s a universal theme!”
“Because they want you to associate them with absolute good.”
“So it’s all a plot,” Georgia laughed. “All those stories were really made up by vampires?”
“Not all of them, no, but Mina is a master manipulator. She knows how to plant a seed of inspiration in just the right place, and like a weed it grows and grows. There are no limits to a prodded human imagination, and all she has to do from time to time is light the spark,” he grumbled.
“Now I see where Ren gets his amazing ability to mix metaphors,” Georgia muttered. “So this is what bothers you? Geoff’s mom?”
“It’s not just that. I can see the way you look at my family, and I can see the culmination of thousands of years of manipulation. Maybe we’re just too honest. We never try to claim that we’re human.”
“So you don’t remember being alive at all?” Georgia asked.
“That’s a ridiculous concept. I’m Stefano DeMarco of the Jaeger clan. That is all that matters.”
“So tell me this, when a vampire is born, is it like some helpless thing? Is it like an infant?”
“No.”
“How do you know how to speak and walk around and hunt humans?”
“There are certain echoes,” he said. He buried his head in his palm. “But it’s not like we are that same human at all.”
Georgia sat back and watched the vampire as his face grew more and more red. She gave him a minute to recover before setting a hand gingerly on his shoulder. “You kinda agree with the Pendragons, don’t you?” she asked softly.
“I asked the same questions you did when I was younger,” he confessed. “I defended the Pendragon clan to my family time and time again. I mean, I was supposed to be an ambassador to the progressive families, right? I thought, as I suspect you still do, that they were somehow better than us and Geoffrey was my friend.”
“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming,” Georgia said.
“When I needed my friend, he just abandoned me without saying a word. He shut down and stopped talking to me, and to Minerva. We suddenly weren’t good enough for him to come to us, and let’s just say, I could see Mina’s influence in a few too many places.”
“So you’re mad because he left you at a bad time. Did you ever try to talk to him?”
“He was sick, I know that, but for decades he refused to see me. It was only last year when he decided to talk to me again, and he just acts as if nothing happened.”
“Well, maybe you should talk to him,” she said, starting to rub his shoulder. “Just try it?”
“There is a lot of history between us, Georgia,” Stefano sighed.
“Well, you’re vampires. I think that goes with the territory.”
Stefano eased farther back, forming an awkward bridge over the marble stairs. He stared at the skylight above and blew a wayward curl out of his eyes. Georgia watched how the softer lights played with his face; the mix of darker skin and awkwardly European features didn’t conjure up the stereotypical image of the angular, ghastly, exotic vampire. As he shimmied and adjusted into place, she couldn’t help but smile.
“Isn’t that dangerous?” she asked, pointing to the huge window over the stairs.
“These are the servants’ stairs. The original owner was very close to her humans and wanted to give them one area of refuge,” he said. “There was one older lady, Miss Darla, whose room was just off these stairs on the top floor. The entire ceiling in there was glass, with a little ladder that could get you to the roof. Eh, it was never really my problem. She always hated it when I came by.”
