Balance (The Divine, Book One) (18 page)

Obi’s
voice snapped me out of my macabre introspective. “So you said you wanted to
learn to fight. How much do you know?”

“You
saw me,” I said. “How much do you think I know?”

“Good
point. Lucky for you, I served as an assistant instructor for my squad while we
were in Afghanistan. I’ll whip you into shape in no time.”

I
wanted to go up to the roof, but Obi protested due to the cold. I had already
forgotten that he wasn’t immune to the elements. I led us over to the room
across the hall instead, pushing the furniture out of the way so we would have
some room to maneuver.

The
second we had finished clearing the floor he started barking at me Marine
style, ordering me to drop and give him fifty. Just to make a point, I pumped
out two hundred, asked him to sit on me, and did one hundred more. It didn’t
take too much effort for me to make myself a little stronger, and I had already
found that my physical endurance was pretty much limitless.

“Point
made she-hulk,” Obi said, hopping off of me. “I’ll show you some mixed martial
arts moves instead.”

He
had me stand next to him and mimic his movements. He was a natural teacher, his
manner and pace easy to follow and understand. Within a couple of hours I was
able to deflect his most aggressive advances. I wasn’t as successful on
offense, having to pull my punches so I wouldn’t hurt him. He seemed pleased
with the results though.

“Best
grub I’ve trained,” he told me. “Hit the shower private, the party starts in
three hours, and you need to get uptown.”

I
took another shower, and then sat with Obi to go over the plan. It was pretty
basic, but the best we could do with the limited information we had. I would go
in alone, disguised as a vampire and hoping that nobody there could see through
the glamour. I would talk up the guests a bit, using some of the code words Obi
taught me so I could intelligently make reference to the trade. The goal would
be to try to coerce the guests into talking, or otherwise overhear anything
that could be related to the Chalice.

As an
aside, I also intended to listen for any chatter regarding Josette. There was
no way I was going to let her wind up as some rich vampire’s tasty snack. Once
I had gotten what I needed, or decided I had overstayed my welcome, I would
duck back out and return to the Belmont to debrief General Kenobi.

At
the same time that I was attending the soiree, Obi would be working the
Internet some more, trying to land info about the Chalice. Now that he knew
what he was up against, he knew well enough to stay on the move and hop
hotspots.

“I
wish I was feeling confident about this,” I said to Obi.

The
party started in half an hour, which was just enough time to be fashionably
late. I hadn’t vamped myself out yet, but I had changed my clothes into a super
sharp black tuxedo with a Nehru jacket and gaudy diamond cufflinks. We decided
I should go as a major player, and being able to look the part would help me
integrate and get them talking.

Regardless,
I was doing battle with the feeling of being over exposed. It didn’t help that
I had lost possession of the blessed sword back at Grand Central. What would
happen to it now? Would some homeless guy just happen by and find himself in
possession of an incredibly sharp and deadly demon-killing tool?

“I’ve
been pulped three times already, and I won’t have backup,” I said.

Well,
I guess I did have backup, if Ulnyx decided to make himself available. After
the not-dream I had experienced I was feeling a little bit better about being
able to control that bastard, but he knew I could control him too, which made
his participation iffy.

“Don’t
worry about it, man,” Obi said. “All you have to do is keep the disguise going,
and you won’t have any trouble. Just channel your inner James Bond.”

Obi’s
overconfidence was a great counter to my apprehension. I walked over to the
door and swung it open.

“Wish
me luck,” I said, trying to keep my nerves in check.

Obi
laughed. “Nah. Good hunting!” He gave me a stiff salute as I shut the door
behind me.

The
party was taking place in the penthouse of a Trump property on the Upper East
Side, a ritzy glitzy area where celebrity sightings were sure to be more common
than vampire sightings. It was at the total end of the island from where I was
starting, but the distance wasn’t a problem. Obi had called a livery while I
had showered, and a confused limo driver greeted me when I exited the Belmont.

“Are
you okay?” I asked him as he pulled the back door of the stretch limo open for
me.

This
was costing ten percent of my stash, but Obi had insisted I needed to go all in
to earn their trust. He had even gone so far as to plant some messages about
‘Stefano Giovanni’ across the online blood exchanges, hushed whispers of a
reclusive trafficker who had decided at the last minute to fly in from Venice
to attend the birthday bash. He was sure there were no other major players in
Venice; it seemed vampires weren’t big fans of water, and my ability to operate
there would also gain me some respect.

The
limo driver looked from me, to the Belmont, and then back. I had changed my
appearance, going for more of a Brad Pitt,
Interview With a Vampire
look, complete with a set of small fangs that would only be apparent if I
smiled fully.

“No
sir,” he said. He ushered me in and closed the door. “Frickin’ drug dealers,” I
heard him mutter. “Just drive ‘em up, drop ‘em off, get the hell outta there.”

The
limo ride was short, but I took the opportunity to enjoy it. I hadn’t been in a
limo since my high school prom. Carly Lane. The name made me shake my head and
smile at the same time. I hadn’t thought about her in years. I was her first
crush, an awkward computer nerd who looked at women and saw only distraction.
She had asked me to the Prom, and against my better judgment, I had accepted.
It had never occurred to me then, but she had been really pretty. What would
she say if she could see me now? The date hadn’t gone so well, but we had stayed
friends for the remainder of High School. I bet she was married and had a few
kids. She always had been the motherly type.

The
driver’s voice snapped my out of my reminiscing. “Here you are sir,” he said as
the limo glided to a halt.

I
turned my head to look out the window while I waited for him to come around and
get the door. The building was huge, at least fifty stories or more, all glass
and steel. It just oozed power and money. There was a doorman waiting by the
huge revolving door, and just inside I could see about half a dozen vampires
standing in a line. My heart leapt to my throat as the slide into panic
started. If they were able to see through my glamour, I would be dead before I
got across the street. I was beginning to regret my current course of action.
The door opened.

I
took one more deep breath and stepped out of the limo. I handed the driver the
cash plus a generous tip.

“Thank
you,” I said.

He
was halfway to the driver’s seat before the ‘you’ made it out of my mouth. My
senses were getting a little crazy with the number of Divine gathering in the
building. I could feel the combined energy of the masses. It didn’t help my
nerves any.

I
slipped through the revolving door, and was approached by the first vampire in
the line. He was well-dressed, well kept, and well-built, equal parts class and
muscle.

“I’m
here for the Solen birthday party,” I said, trying to stay calm even though my
chest felt like it was about to give birth to something nasty. “My name is
Stefano Giovanni.”

The
vampire took his time looking me over, but it was his nose I was worried about.
I had done my best to mimic the smell that I associated with Rebecca, because
she was the only good example I had of how a vampire should smell. I had toned
down the floweriness of her perfume, but maintained the musky iron and mixed it
with Drakkar.

I
waited; internally tense enough to break a board, externally playing it cool.
He completed his sniff test, took a step back and smiled, his fangs betraying
him for the first time.

“Mr.
Solen has directed me to cater to your every whim,” he said. “He is very eager
to speak with you regarding the Italian markets. This way, Mr. Giovanni.”

He
bowed and put out his arm to direct me to the elevator. I didn’t look at him,
or respond. I just started walking like the stuck up evil prick I was supposed
to be.

We
stepped into the elevator, and he hit the only button in it. Private.
Impressive.

“What’s
your name?” I asked. My voice sounded normal to me, but I was projecting it to
him with a soft Italian accent.

“Tarly,
sir,” he replied.

He
waited for me to speak again. I decided against it, leaving him to deal with
the awkward moment. The elevator had us up to the penthouse in no time.

Obi
had warned me about what to expect at a vampire-organized event. Even so, it
was a challenge to hide my reaction as the elevator doors slid open and Tarly
and I stepped out into the apartment.

The
living space was huge, bigger than anything I could have imagined. The elevator
let out on a large balcony that overlooked the main living area, where I could
see about a hundred guests had already gathered. To the right were the rest of
the smaller rooms, to the left and front nothing but a wall of twenty-foot tall
floor-to-ceiling windows that exposed an incredible view of the city. The
balcony fed down into the party through a pair of matching marble staircases,
which were lined with a menagerie of antiques that I was sure cost a fortune.
The front corner by the windows held a more typical interior decoration, with a
sofa and loveseat caddy cornered in front of a free standing fireplace,
enabling their inhabitants to get the best view of the city below. Hanging from
the ceiling over the furniture was a huge canvas banner that read ‘Happy
Birthday Reyka!
’.

All
of this was impressive, but not out of place for the rich. What gave the affair
away as being oh-so-not-normal was the open area that had been created by
removing a bunch of the ancillary furniture. Sitting in the middle of it was a
huge classic roman fountain, but instead of spouting water it was circulating
blood, tossing it up into the air and dribbling it over the sides into the main
pool. The guests around it would dip a finger in from time to time to get a
quick taste, then resume whatever conversation they were having. It was gross,
but not completely stomach churning as long as you tried not to think of where
the blood had come from.

That
prize went to the fringe of the open area, near the southern wall of glass,
where they had set up about half a dozen beds. On the beds were women, human
women, unclothed, tied up, and drugged. They weren’t alone on the beds, the
guests were free to step right up and have a taste.

I was
nearing the breaking point of my ability to contain my disgust, repulsion, and
anger when Tarly stepped in front of me.

“Mr.
Giovanni,” he said.

I
must have given him a look of death, because he stooped over and looked up at
me like a beaten animal.

“I’m
sorry sir, but Mr. Solen requested that I bring you over to him. If you’ll
follow me?”

Making
a scene about the ‘Fresh Fleshette’, as Obi had told me the vamps called it,
would have blown my disguise in about point oh one seconds. As much as it
pained me to have to ignore it, failing to find the Chalice was going to cost a
heck of a lot more.

“Lead
the way,” I said, maintaining the assertive posture that was causing Tarly to
stoop like Quasimodo.

He
straightened up, but not too much, and started walking
down
the southern staircase. Great, now I had to get even closer to it.

Closer
would have been a bonus. As it turned out, Merov Solen was just finishing up
with a taste of his own. There was nothing frightening or imposing about the
vampire who was considered the most powerful in the Americas. He was small,
maybe a couple of inches over five feet, with a
bald head
and a plentiful gut. His eyes were large and blue, his clothes a simple pair of
corduroys and a plaid button-down shirt that made him conspicuously out of
place amidst the rest of the partygoers in their black ties and gowns.

When
he saw me approaching, he gave me a car salesman smile, and then licked away a
bit of blood that had coagulated in the corner of his mouth. I glanced over at
the girl on the bed. At least she had no idea where she was or what was
happening to her. If I had a chance to get her out, I would. If not, I would
avenge her somehow.

“Care
for a small bite?” he asked. “There’s nothing quite like a virgin to get the
old heart pumping again, is there?”

I bit
my tongue, almost hard enough to get a taste of my own blood. “Personally, I
prefer pure. I find the alterations caused by external agents unpalatable.”

Merov
smiled and reached his arm up to put it around my shoulder. “A demon of
exquisite taste and standards. I respect that. Between you and me, I wouldn’t
have even bothered with the drugs, but this is my daughter’s birthday party and
she’s going to be mad enough at me for providing the Fresh Fleshette at all.
Sometimes I don’t know if she’s really mine, the way she carries on about
drinking human blood. We’re vampires for Hell’s sake!”