The Meridian Gamble (18 page)

But as I’m studying them, a waiter
comes into the room, carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres. As he approaches Angel,
she smiles with delight, and begins loading a napkin with the tiny puff
pastries he serves. She almost looks like a child stealing cookies from a
cookie jar. And when she has enough, Angel stuffs one into her mouth with
relish.

Lina takes one of her own, sharing
in her glee, and begins to nibble at it. And I know.

“Lina is definitely a vampire,” I
say, almost too quickly. “And Angel is human.”

Lina glares at me, looking annoyed,
probably because she’s bet against me.

“Really? How are you so sure?”
Marion says.

“Because Angel is eating, more than
a vampire normally would. And Lina is only taking tiny bites, the same way Adam
does.”

As she inhales another puff,
Angel’s eyes go wide with a guilty expression, like she’s done something wrong.

“Well done,” Lina says, smiling.
“You always did like the clever ones, Adam. But then, don’t we all.”

And she gives Angel’s cheek a
loving caress, feigning an indifference to her defeat. But Lina turns back to
me and stares me down, and I feel like I’ve angered her, somehow. She looks
like she’s challenging me to go on.

I turn to Tom and Jennifer, who
stare back at me passively, giving me nothing. They’re smart, they haven’t so
much as looked in the waiter’s direction.

They’re both so similar, tall and
statuesque, so beautiful. And I wonder if perhaps they’re both vampires. They
sip at their champagne placidly, and I wonder if they’re communicating
telepathically, coordinating their game.

I look to Tom, who gives me a small
smile, and it’s almost too much to take. Even his slightest grin sets my heart
fluttering. Tom is a real hottie, big and blonde like Trevor was, and if I
didn’t have a relationship, he would more than capture my attention. I pity the
poor women who cross his path, because like Adam, I’m quite sure it’s
impossible to resist his charms. And that alone could make him the vampire, or
at least an ideal candidate. Yet, Jennifer is just as pretty. But in her case,
I’m more attracted to the chic white sleeveless dress she’s wearing. It has a
black band around the waist, and I’d swear it’s from a designer I know, though
I can’t quite place it.

As I search for clues, a thought
crosses my mind. Since they’re making it so hard for me to guess, I wonder if I
can force the issue.

It’s cruel, but I can’t help
myself. Tom is watching me, with his blue eyes that sparkle. And I smile back
at him playfully, in a way that I hope Adam will later forgive.

I tap a finger against my lip in a
coquettish way, and lean in to Marion to whisper.

“If I had to guess. Which I do …”

And it works. Jennifer breaks her
composure, and looks to Tom, to see his reaction to my subtle flirtatiousness.
It’s like she can’t stop herself. Perhaps she’s a bit jealous, but her eyes are
also filled with adoration, and I can tell it’s hard for her to look away from
him for too long. She’s in his thrall. It’s the same way Bernard looks at
Marion, and I remember what Adam said about the bite controlling them.

And it gives me a chill, to think
they’re being manipulated in that way.

“Tom is a vampire, and Jennifer is
human,” I tell Marion, continuing to whisper, in a voice that’s so soft only
certain people in the room will be able to hear.

And she smiles at me.

“How do you know this time?” she
says.

As I watch Tom, his grin widens
just a bit. And Jennifer looks between us, wondering what’s being said.

“Because he’s listening to us. And
she can’t hear a thing.”

The room slowly breaks out in
applause, much to my surprise. Adam laughs, and leans over to give me a kiss on
the cheek. I’m in shock, not quite sure of what’s just happened.

“Well done, Meridian. You’ve
guessed perfectly,” Marion says. And she turns to the others. “I assume the
appropriate funds will be traded by morning.”

Tom and Lina nod their heads. And
from the way she glares at me, I can tell at least one of them is annoyed over
the loss.

The game is over as quickly as it
began, and I’ve seemingly passed the test. Two doors under the second floor
landing suddenly swing open. They’re silver with round windows cut into them,
like the kind you would find in a restaurant. And waiters come out and stand in
a row, which signals that our meal is about to be served.

“Everyone? If we’re ready?” Marion
says.

We go to sit at the long onyx
table, and it’s strange. The couples are all seated far apart, at pre-arranged
places which everyone seems to know. And we’re not spaced across from each
other, but rather, just a bit offset. Like everything in the vampire tower, I
wonder if there’s a meaning to it. Marion and Bernard are across from us, just
a bit to the right, and Lina and Angel are also on that side, further down to
the left. Tom and Jennifer sit on our side, one or two spaces down from Adam,
who sits between us. And I get the feeling that he’s positioned himself that
way, so he can protect me.

The waiters set tall thin flutes in
front of us, filled with a green almost liquid, or foam. And I’m afraid to
think what it is. They likewise pour glasses of red wine for us from silver
decanters, though the ones set in front of the vampires seem deeper in color,
murkier. And I wonder if it’s blood, or if that’s just my imagination.

I lift the flute, and look to Adam
questioningly.

“It’s an amuse bouche, to stimulate
your taste buds. An asparagus mousse, I believe.”

And from across the table, Hook
Nose smirks at me, in contempt. Like I’m supposed to know what amuse bouche is.
Does she think I have it with every meal? What she probably thinks is that I
have a commoner’s taste, which is absolutely true.

But I try the green goop, and find
that I like it, whatever it is. The taste is light and tangy, creamy with just
a hint of lemon and a salty flavor that perhaps comes from soy sauce. And it
does exactly what’s intended, it seems to make my tongue come alive.

Before I can finish, the waiters
bring another course, plates of yummy wontons. There are six of them, arranged
with orange and red sauces drizzled over them in an artful manner. But it’s not
just a pleasant presentation, the wontons themselves look tasty. They’re not
overly fried wrappers with specks of meat inside. Rather, the filling is
generous, the size of a meatball, just like the ones from my favorite Chinese
restaurant that’s just down the street, Tom E. Wong’s. And I immediately dig
in. There’s nothing I like better than yummy Chinese appetizers. If I have to
endure the rigors of a vampire dinner party, I at least deserve this treat.

Marion looks across the table, to
Tom.

“So, Tom. Why don’t you tell us
something about our business?”

“Well, we’re thinking of investing
in a car company,” he says, with a politician’s perfect grin.

And Marion’s delicate features
sour, as she wrinkles her brow.

“Oh, no. Not a car company. They’re
far too high profile,” she says. “It will bring too much scrutiny to our
endeavors.”

“Not if we buy it through one of
our subsidiaries,” Tom says. “Plus, the humans aren’t innovating fast enough.
It would be nice to have cars that are designed to our specifications.”

“Ones that float, perhaps,” Marion
says, with a laugh.

“From a safety standpoint, it would
be helpful,” Adam says. “To build them around our unique defensive needs.”

“Boys and their toys,” Jennifer
says, smiling.

“I think they just want new ones to
play with,” Marion says.

“The company is headquartered in
Paris. You can visit when we go for Jennifer’s show. And it will give you an
excuse to go back more often. Perhaps you’ll like that,” Tom says.

“Perhaps,” Marion replies, seeming
to thaw on the idea, just a bit.

Paris. That’s it, I can hear it
now. Marion definitely has a slight Gallic accent. It’s something in the way she
extends her “e’s” to sound like “ee’s.” And it’s puzzling to me. I know she’s
immortal, so why would she have an accent at all, given the amount of time
she’s lived on the planet? Did it come from an extended stay in France? Or is
it all calculated? Does she speak that way because she knows it’s insanely
attractive, and will lure those around her into falling for her charms?

And what was it she said, about
Jennifer having a show? Suddenly, I realize it, why Tom and his mate seem so
familiar. It’s not from the past. I’ve seen them in this life, in the society
pages. She’s a designer with an up and coming company, Jennifer’s Eve, who’s
married to a handsome C.E.O. I’d never really paid attention to him, other than
to drool at his pictures, but I remember now. How could I forget?

He runs Omnicom.

And I blurt it out in my
excitement.

“Oh my gosh, Jennifer. You’re that
Jennifer, from Jennifer’s Eve?”

“Yes, I am,” she says, smiling.

“I love your clothes. What I can
afford of them. I have one of your dresses.”

“You do? That’s so sweet.”

“Well, we’ll have to send you the
whole collection, after it debuts in Paris,” Marion says.

“Absolutely! And in the meantime,
I’ll messenger over a few outfits. Maybe some smart suits for the office,”
Jennifer says.

And I feel a pang of excitement.
The only thing I like better than Chinese food is new clothes. And I can
picture Staci’s eyes bulging out when she sees me traipsing around Creative
Quorum in a pricey new suit.

“What is it exactly that you do,
Meridian?” Jennifer asks.

“I work at an advertising agency,
in Administration. Basically, I’m a glorified secretary. It’s pretty boring.”

“I’m sure it has it’s challenges,”
Marion says.

“Challenges, yes. Tedious ones,” I
say, with a laugh. “But trust me, it’s not worth mentioning.”

And Lina leans over from her side
of the table.

“Oh, no, please tell us more,” she
says. “We’d love to hear all about your … How do you say it? ‘Nine to Five?’ In
fact, we want to learn everything there is to know about you.”

And as she smiles at me, her grin
becomes more of a sneer.

I’m not sure what this broad’s
problem is, why she seems to hate me so much. And I can’t imagine why she wants
to hear about my dull job.

Adam reaches out and grabs my hand
underneath the table, squeezing it tightly. It feels like he’s giving me
support, and I know something is terribly wrong. But I try to respond to her
anyway.

“Well, what can I tell you?” I say.
“Most of my day is spent corralling the mail boys about the company …”

And then it begins, the attack. I
can feel the energy at the corners of my mind. It’s the same electricity I felt
before with Adam, and a few moments ago, when Marion was communicating with the
others, setting the terms of my guessing game. Only now, it’s focused on me.

The static crawl starts at the base
of my skull, in the back, and slowly climbs about the edges of my brain. And I
instantly know what’s going on. Lina is trying to invade my psyche, and the
bitch is making me talk to distract me, trying to make me slip up. And I’m not
even sure if anyone else at the table knows, save for Adam.

I start blubbering on about the
company, and it’s a good thing I’m so used to complaining about my job, because
I don’t have much to give to the conversation. I can feel the attack getting
worse. The buzzing grows as it tries to force its way in, and becomes so
strong, my teeth feel like they’re chattering. And I’m starting to panic. What
if Lina can breach my mental defenses, or at least gets a glimpse inside, and
announces to the rest of them that I’m Saga? Will they strike me down, right
here at the table? Will Adam be forced to stand between us?

But I remember what my new
boyfriend said, about my mind being invulnerable. And I have to trust him. He
wouldn’t have brought me here unless he felt I could meet the challenge. So I
calm myself, and try to breathe deeply. And I begin to imagine myself building
bricks up around my mind, to form a wall that will make it even harder for her
to invade, all the while offering them details of my petty existence.

In the real world, I launch into a
story, one I remember quite well about Edison, the pint-sized lothario from
Creative Quorum.

“So at one point, he was dating
three of the girls who worked as temporary assistants at our company. And I
decided to throw a wrench in his plans. So I managed to shift all of them into
assignments on the same floor, the one he delivered on. And after a few days,
it got so bad, he was sweating every time he went out on a run, and was begging
me to move him to another floor. He almost had a nervous breakdown, trying to
juggle having lunch with one, coffee with the other, drinks after work with the
third so that none of them knew what was going on.”

“So what finally happened?”

“It was great. They did figure it
out. And when he invited one of them to lunch, they all met him there, and
broke up with him at the same time.”

And a few of the others laugh. And
I’m glad that they find it so amusing, because inside, my head is throbbing.

“I think I’d like to meet this
Edison person. I could teach him my own lesson about respecting women,” Lina
says, feigning outrage, pretending as though she’s not attacking me.

“Don’t be so mean,” Tom says. “He’s
just a child with too many hormones.”

“Plus, I still need him to do his
mail runs. So please don’t eat him or wipe his mind,” I say to Lina, staring
her down. “Or try.”

And she smiles back at me, giving
me a gentle nod. And finally, her assault stops, and I feel a sense of relief.
Because I’m about to cry.

But Lina slowly looks to Tom and
then Marion, who stare at me with quizzical expressions. And the telepathic
attack begins again, only worse. The energy that was bombarding my mind
increases by three, and I want to scream.