The Dark Arts of Blood (37 page)

“She’s not
my
Fadiya. Violette?”

Stefan rolled his eyes. “Of course not. The guest of honour must be suitably late and make a grand entrance, mustn’t she?”

“Naturally. She’s making her own way here, so who knows when she’ll turn up.”

“Well, go in, circulate, enjoy the potential buffet.” Stefan winked. “Karl, this is your chance to make peace with Godric Reiniger: either that, or duel to the death in public.”

“I’ll try not to,” said Karl.

“No, be my guest. What’s the point of hosting a party unless it’s talked about for years to come?”

A babble of accents filled the house; English, American, French, Italian and German. Many were well-off young tourists: Stefan had a knack for seducing the glamorous in-crowd, and no one could resist the lure of meeting Violette. A jazz trio was playing in the big salon upstairs, while the lake room on the lowest floor had a gramophone and soft lighting for those who preferred a more intimate atmosphere.

The night was young and everyone keen to dance. Charlotte found the lower room empty, except for Amy Temple, who was nursing a flute of champagne as she gazed out at the lake. She wore a sequinned sleeveless dress that exposed her upper back; the sight made Charlotte long to taste her lovely peachy skin.

“Hello again,” Charlotte said over her shoulder, making her jump. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Aren’t you joining the party?”

“Actually, I’m avoiding my uncle. The more I try to forgive him about that vile Dr Ochsner, the angrier I feel. I realised I
can’t
forgive him. Does that make me a bad person?”

“Of course not,” said Charlotte.

“I know he adores me, but that makes it worse. His idea of love is to control my every move! I pretend everything’s normal, but it isn’t. And now Uncle’s furious with
me
for going to Paris against his orders.”

“Oh. What did he do when he found out? Nothing awful, I hope.”

Amy’s mouth went thin. “He’d given me a proper acting role in the William Tell film. Now he’s withdrawn the offer, as a punishment. It’s the nastiest thing he could have done. I’m relegated to costumes and technical duties.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She tried to smile, but Charlotte saw tears welling. “I know his movies are dreadful, but still, it was a proper
part
… but I really don’t care. It’s his loss. So just now, I don’t even want to be in the same room.”

“Why come to the party, then?”

“Mainly to irritate him. First he said I couldn’t, then he realised he couldn’t stop me without locking me up. Then he insisted that
everyone
must come, because Madame Lenoir invited us, and he wants to impress her with numbers. But he has a sour face because she isn’t here yet, and he
despises
jazz music.” She gave a tight smile.

“I suppose he thought Violette’s choice would be classical,” said Charlotte. “Your opinion of your uncle seems a little lower every time I see you.”

“I
want
to like him, but he makes it so difficult! Living with him is far from dull, but I hoped he’d be kind and fatherly, not so… full of his own self-importance. Is that a sign of genius?” Amy gave a short laugh. “Everything depends on what mood he’s in, and it’s hard to tell because he’s so wrapped up in his thoughts at home and you don’t know if he’s going to joke or snarl until he opens his mouth. And his close friends – especially Wolfgang, who’s perfectly nice the rest of the time – when they’ve had a few drinks they start arguing about politics and it’s terribly embarrassing. If Uncle Godric doesn’t keep them under control tonight, I wouldn’t blame Madame Lenoir if she asks them to leave, and then he’ll be offended all over again.”

“Nothing’s happened yet. Perhaps it won’t.”

“I’ve been
so
glad of the chance to help you with your project.” Amy meant the darkroom that she was helping Karl and Charlotte to construct. Violette wasn’t thrilled to have a storeroom full of tanks and equipment, but she’d let them do as they pleased, and even lent a couple of stagehands to aid them. “It helps take my mind off him, which is such a relief.”

“And we’re extremely grateful for your help,” Charlotte said warmly.

“All the same…” She paused, with the charmingly worried look that always sent a pang of blood-thirst through Charlotte. “It may take you months to get professional results, whereas Uncle Godric would make a competent job of filming straight off. He thinks that’s why Madame Lenoir’s invited him. He’s fully expecting a commission.”

“I’m afraid he’s going to be disappointed. You sound anxious. Do you think he’s going to react badly?”

“Well, of course he is!” Amy took a large sip of champagne. “And if he
ever
finds out I’ve been helping you, he might have me horsewhipped.”

“We won’t let that happen. I thought you enjoyed defying him?”

“Oh, I do. But sometimes… He scares me. Then I get cold feet and think it’s safest to let him have his own way after all. And then I get annoyed with
myself
for giving in. If he was excited about filming the ballet, it would distract him from talking politics, because the
last
thing Madame’s party guests need is for him to start haranguing them.” Amy winced.

“Don’t you share his views?”

She paused, sipping her drink. “He’s very sincere and convincing. The Alps are so pure and fresh – green pastures, farmers tending their cattle, the folk music and traditions and festivals – he loves all that. And there’s nothing wrong with that, of course. But it’s as if he wants to… control it all. He would like to seal this country into a glass sphere and hold it in his hand, like a god. That is not exactly normal, is it? He says he wants the best for Switzerland, which we all do, but…”

“Sometimes people say that, when they actually want what’s best for themselves. Power, wealth and adoration.”

“I know. I don’t think anything less will make him happy.” Amy looked uncomfortable. “That’s what his movie-making and drawing and writing is all about. He resents not receiving the acclaim he thinks he deserves, but he’s not stupid. He knows you don’t get anywhere without making a lot of noise and cosying up to influential people. Everything he does is so
important
.” She rolled her eyes. “The local dignitaries and clergy love him, because he flatters them and makes films of their activities, and that makes them feel tremendously important too.”

Her wryly exasperated tone amused Charlotte.

“That sounds infuriating.”

“I let it go over my head.” Amy sighed. “Or rather, I try. If I thought too much about it, I’d go mad. But at social events like this, Godric usually manages to offend someone, and it’s mortifying. I hope he doesn’t ruin the evening.”

“I’m sure Stefan won’t let that happen.”

“Who’s Stefan?”

“He owns the house. He organised the party for Violette. You must have seen him – he has an identical twin.”

“Oh, the blond angels! Of course. He and his brother are the most handsome pair I’ve ever seen – even more striking than Emil, I think…” Amy trailed off. “Is Emil here? Uncle Godric even managed to upset
him
the other day.”

“How? I didn’t know they’d met.”

“Fadiya brought him to the house, after we’d come back from Paris.”

“Why?”

“She might have been trying to impress Emil by showing him the film studio. Or trying to impress my uncle. Godric might have asked to meet him – after all, who wouldn’t want such a gorgeous leading man?”

“In hopes of making his films more successful?” Charlotte wondered if Emil had confessed the encounter to Violette. She doubted it.

“Exactly!”

“Violette won’t be at all happy if Emil goes off to be a movie star. But if he did, he’d go to Hollywood, not… to your uncle. Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologise. You’ve nothing to worry about, in any case. I was eavesdropping. Emil and Godric had a frightful argument and Emil stormed out. I’m not surprised he isn’t here.”

Charlotte had no intention of explaining that Violette had kept him away on purpose. “I haven’t seen Fadiya either. Didn’t she come with you?”

Amy shrugged. “She’s supposed to be here. All the others – my friends from Paris – they’re here, since they’d rather die than miss a party. And my uncle’s men-only circle. We don’t socialise much with them because they’re so serious, until they’ve had a drink, and then they’re obnoxious. But no, I haven’t seen Fadiya all evening. Perhaps she’ll be along later.”

“Fashionably late,” Charlotte said, feigning lack of concern.

“Or with Emil,” Amy said flatly. “In which case I can imagine what’s keeping them. And I’m trying not to.”

“Ah,” said Charlotte. She frowned. Emil couldn’t be with his lover because he was rehearsing, unless he’d disobeyed Violette again, so perhaps Fadiya was out hunting. Charlotte still saw no tell-tale marks on Amy’s perfect neck…

But if Fadiya shunned the party, how were Charlotte and Violette to confront her? Did she know they’d found her out?

Amy glanced upwards. The ceiling was shaking to the rhythm of music and dancing feet. “I say, shall we have a dance down here?” Amy said with a grin. “I might as well get squiffy and enjoy myself, instead of moping about Uncle Godric all evening.”

“Excellent idea,” said Charlotte, squeezing her arm, trying hard to ignore her alluring warm scent. “But why not come upstairs and do that? There’s someone I need to find.”

* * *

Violette made her entrance an hour later.

Meanwhile Charlotte passed the time by dancing with Karl and Stefan, making light-hearted conversation with strangers and observing Godric Reiniger, who was holding court in a corner of the salon. He wore a white evening suit with a red bow tie, treading a fine line between elegance and flamboyance. He seemed less embarrassing than Amy suggested: he certainly talked a lot, provoking debate among his hangers-on. Perhaps that was why they liked his company: the atmosphere sparked around him. He was restless, constantly calling for drinks, passing cigarettes around, encouraging couples to dance even though he did not join in.

Instead he seemed to be watching. His blue eyes glinted behind his spectacle lenses.

“Is he auditioning?” Charlotte whispered to Karl. “He looks as if he’s sizing people up for parts in his next movie.”

“Or watching them for more sinister reasons,” said Karl. “To assess how useful they might be to him.”

“Have you noticed how he stares at you, and at Stefan?” she said. “I don’t know if it’s hatred or lust. Can you smell that bitter sourness in his blood?”

“They all have it,” said Karl, “but it’s strongest in Godric.”

“There’s no trace on Amy or her friends, only on the men he keeps around him. Something about him makes my skin crawl – I couldn’t take his blood if he prostrated himself on an altar.”

Karl gave a thin smile. “The trouble is, once a human has learned to recognise a vampire, they start seeing vampires everywhere. That sends them a little mad.”

“I don’t think he’s mad,” she whispered. “Twisted, perhaps. I know how Amy feels: I have a strong desire not to be in the same room as him either.”

“Well, I’m going to take him somewhere private quite soon,” Karl murmured into her ear.

“Why?” The idea made her anxious.

“Unfinished business.”

As Karl spoke, Charlotte saw a familiar male among Godric’s clique. Shorn red hair, handsome freckled face, serious expression. She froze.

“Karl,” she said, nearly losing her voice. “The man who came to the chalet to find the knife…”

“I know.” He turned her so they were both facing away. “His name’s Wolfgang Notz. He was in the beer hall, the night Emil was attacked. I told you: they are all connected. Just keep away, pretend you don’t recognise him.”

“Oh, I can do that.” She held herself still until the wave of horrific images subsided. Losing her memory had frightened her, but remembering was worse. “I wasn’t planning to confront him.”

“What about the drunk who stabbed you? Bruno?”

“I can’t see him,” said Charlotte. “I’m sure he’s not here. I’d know.”

“Good. Just keep out of their way and enjoy the evening. As I said, I am going to have a word with Herr Reiniger…”

“Be careful,” she said sternly.

A ripple of excitement began in the entrance hall and broke across the salon in a wave of sighs and exclamations. Violette walked in. Everyone turned to look, as if a queen had made her entrance. A respectful space opened around her. People bowed. Applause broke out, and Violette took it in good heart, smiling and curtseying as if she were on stage.

She looked like a gleaming ornament: a shimmering silver and amethyst dress, jet beads around her neck, white silk lilies on one hip and in her raven hair. Charlotte’s heart filled with a mixture of emotions. Almost every man and probably many of the women would have given anything to take her home… but she was an icon, a faerie queen, too perfect to touch.

Remarkably for her, she was alone. Her usual appearance would be at an after-show party, surrounded by dancers and staff as she held court with her admirers. To see her without an entourage was strange.

“Thank you all so much for coming,” she said in her refined English accent, then elaborated the sentiment in German. “
Sie sind herzlich willkommen. Ich bin sehr glücklich.
Don’t be afraid to say hello to me. I don’t bite.”

“Liar,” Charlotte murmured beneath the wave of laughter.

Stefan and Niklas guided Violette through the guests, with a couple of waiters following to make sure no one crowded her. The jazz trio played the overture from
Swan Lake
in ragtime, a discordant, jaunty tribute that made her smile.

Then for a long time she was surrounded, as guests swarmed around her and Violette put on her gracious public mask, making small talk.

Her interaction with Godric Reiniger was brief. He made a show of kissing and petting her hand, as if to demonstrate that he was on intimate terms with this goddess – despite having plotted to steal Emil from her? So much for that. Even as she scorned his arrogance, Charlotte had a worrying thought.

“If Godric can perceive vampires, does he know about her?” she asked softly, only to realise Karl was no longer at her side.