"Of course," I nodded. "It's nice to see you." At least he'd voted not guilty when the Council was deciding whether to let me live or not. Wlodek wasn't far away and I already knew that Wlodek had sired Flavio, just by the scent. Of course, I was keeping that information to myself—apparently, it was something other vampires couldn't tell for themselves.
"Come," Merrill said, leading me farther into the ballroom, where several vampires waited to greet us. Some of those vampires had very old names and the scent of extremely old vampire to accompany them. If I hadn't been too frightened to ask and if they'd been gracious enough to answer, I could have received a lesson in ancient world history from those who'd experienced it firsthand. I was given Greek names. Or Roman. I also heard French, Italian, Spanish, Russian—everything. Most, however, spoke excellent English and employed it. Many of them were also eyeing me speculatively, which made me uncomfortable. How could it not? I felt as if I was the meal of the month and they were all staring hungrily.
Merrill steered me toward the wall near Russell's post, asking the tall Enforcer to keep an eye on me while he went to run some errand of his own. That's when I was approached by three human women, who sidled cautiously up beside me.
"That hunk you're with is gorgeous," one of them ventured.
"You're welcome to tell him so," I said. She had blonde hair but it hadn't always been that color. The other two were darker-haired and showing off as much of their charms as they could. All three were dressed in low cut gowns, clouded in expensive perfume and wore jewelry that must have cost a mint.
"I may just do that," she said, her voice thick with a Georgia accent. Georgia in the U.S., not the Russian one. I didn’t think it would impress Merrill all that much if she expressed her interest. I'd seen the photograph on his bedside table following my fainting fit. The woman in that photograph was stunning, with pale blonde hair and blue eyes. No way could Miss Georgia compete with that. No way.
"You know Rudolf will object if you show interest in another man," one of the blonde's companions cautioned.
"Honey, you may as well call them what they are," the blonde laughed. "We all know they're vampires. Are you with him?" The blonde nodded toward Merrill, who was making his way through the crowd.
"It depends on what you mean by with," I said. "He's my sire."
"Holy Christ, she's one of them," the third woman spoke for the first time.
"Unintentionally, I assure you," I said.
"Did it hurt?" the blonde asked.
"I don't remember it," I shrugged.
The blonde took her chance, moving next to Merrill and touching his arm when he arrived. His voice and his compulsion were icy when he told her to run along. She and the two women with her trotted away. Briefly, I thought about Winkler and how he wouldn't have passed up the opportunity. Nope, not him. He probably thought I was dead now. The certificate that Weldon sent pretty well said as much.
A full orchestra was now warming up at the front, striking up a waltz quickly.
"That's our cue," Merrill bowed politely and took my hand. "Now," he told me, as we went twirling around the room, "a good, standard answer is always Thank you; I will consider your offer. You should know by now not to be rude." Actually, I was afraid to be rude, but I didn't say that to Merrill. And offer? What offer? What did Merrill mean by that? While we danced, I saw how the others nodded to my surrogate sire and gave him space. Merrill was powerful in the vampire community and, excepting Wlodek, was older than all of them.
The vampire who approached for my second dance was someone named Wellington. He appeared to be English, was quite old and of the nobility. And stuffy, on top of that. He blustered about the House of Lords and the House of Commons, regaling me with current events as they concerned the monarchy. As he blustered, I was afraid my eyes might glaze over.
Next came someone of Russian heritage who offered to teach me his native language. Merrill's standard answer came in handy on that one. One of the many vampires I danced with after that was Italian and introduced himself as Paolo Moretti. "I can make love to you so easily," he said. If my shoes hadn't been strapped on, I would have come out of them, I think. Merrill's answer didn't work for him. "I think I would have to know you better first," I said, which caused him to laugh. Mostly I listened, nodded, and concentrated on my dancing, except when my partner asked a question. Another one offered to take over my teaching, insisted that he knew Wlodek personally and could accomplish this immediately. I told him I would discuss it with Merrill and that caused him to back off. The worst one of the evening was also the best one in most respects. He was charming, handsome and funny—and also the one from whom I'd stolen the tiaras. No. No future in that one. I smiled, answered when he asked a question, laughed more than once and thanked him for the dance when it was over. If vampires actually sweated, I'd be hoping my deodorant wouldn't fail me right about then.
"This last dance is mine," Gavin smoothly cut in front of another vampire. I think it was all right—Gavin was older than the other vampire, who backed away immediately with a polite nod. And where had Gavin come from? I hadn't seen him the entire evening, yet here he was, claiming the final dance. I'd only gotten to dance with Gavin once before and I'd enjoyed it, plus, it was a relief not to make polite (and forced) conversation with him.
"So, what have you been up to?" I asked as another waltz began. I hadn't heard from Gavin for several weeks.
"Hoping you would call," he said softly against my ear.
"I was supposed to call? Who's making these rules? I want to have a talk with them. I don't call you, mostly because I don't want to interrupt if you're doing something important. Breaking bones and smashing heads require a lot of concentration, I hear."
"If I don't answer, then I am busy or dead," he informed me stiffly. I'd offended him.
"Now there's a comforting thought; imagining that you're dead if you don't answer your phone," I rolled my eyes at his cavalier attitude.
"You'd truly worry over me?" That sounded a little warmer.
"Of course I'd worry over your sorry ass," I said tartly. "I can't help it. And you smell good," I couldn't help adding.
"I smell good?" Gavin sounded confused.
"To me, you do. You did from the start and I couldn't figure it out. I can't believe I was such an idiot, thinking you were anything but vampire."