Chapter Eleven
Cally sighed as she walked through the cafeteria at Bathory Academy, looking for a table to sit at. Normally she took her midnight meal with Melinda and the Maledetto sisters, but she hadn't seen Melly since the incident on the pier, and her father had forbidden her to associate with the twins. It wouldn't be long before the other students realized she was flying solo once more, and then the hazing and harassment would begin again. With them, Cally feared, would come the risk of accidentally summoning the Shadow Hand. The Vamps table was, of course, out of the question. Even though Lilith did not appear to be at school that evening, her second in command, Carmen, was jealously guarding their turf against all unworthy invaders.
Cally briefly contemplated sitting at the Amazon table, but then thought better of it. Unless you were their equal in aerial combat and shapeshifting, the Amazons were more apt to give you a swirlie than pull out a chair in welcome. Cally was having to take Remedial Shapeshifting in an attempt to catch up with her peers, and she wasn't in that big a hurry to have them wash her hair.
That pretty much left the spod table, which was actually worse than sitting alone. The whole point was to avoid becoming a target, after all.
In the end she decided to run the risk of calling attention to herself and sat at an empty table. She frowned at her plastic bag of O poz. She hadn't really eaten much in the last couple of days, and although she knew she should be hungry, the best she could manage was a few sips.
"What in the name of the Founders do you think you're doing?"
Cally was surprised to see Melinda standing on the other side of the table, her hands planted on her hips and a scowl on her face.
"Melly! You're back!" Cally grinned, jumping to her feet to embrace her friend. "I was afraid the Van Helsings got you."
"Never mind about me," Melinda said, pushing
Cally away. "I was sitting up with a sick friend. I want to know what's up with you, girl."
"What do you mean?"
Melinda stepped aside to reveal Bella and Bette standing behind her. On seeing the twins, Cally grabbed her tray and prepared to move to another table. Melinda sidestepped in front of her, blocking Cally's escape.
"I'm gone for one night and when I come back, it's to find you treating Bella and Bette like, well, like Lilith would! The only reason I'm not already kicking your ass is because I owe you. But that doesn't mean you can get away with acting like a complete and utter bitch on a stick."
"Are you mad at us, Cally?" Bette asked plaintively.
"No, I'm not mad at you, Bette." Cally sighed.
"Neither you nor Bella has done anything wrong. This has nothing to do with you, really. It's my mom. She doesn't want me hanging out with you guys anymore."
"Why is your mother so worked up over the twins?"
Melinda frowned.
Although she wanted to be honest with her friends, Cally doubted that telling them the whole truth would make things any easier. So she decided to tell them just a part of it instead. "Bella and Bette's brother gave me a ride home the other night, and my mom jumped to the wrong conclusion. Now she doesn't want me to have anything more to do with the Maledettos."
"You met our brother?" Bella asked in surprise.
"Didn't Lucky tell you?"
Bella shook her head. "We don't see Lucky that much anymore, now that he's working for Papa."
"Do you like him?" Bette asked.
"He seems nice." Cally shrugged.
"A lot of things aren't what they seem to be," Bella said, a grim look on her face. "Lucky is one of them."
Melinda snapped her fingers. "Can we get back to the subject at hand?" she asked tartly. "So what you're saying is that your mom doesn't want you hanging around the twins because she's got a thing against the Strega and is afraid you'll get mixed up with their big brother, is that it?"
"More or less," Cally said, relieved that she didn't have to lie any more than she had already.
Bella and Bette exchanged looks and then shared a deep sigh. "My sister and I understand the importance of family," Bette said solemnly as her sister nodded in agreement. "We respect your decision to honor your mother's wishes, even though it costs us your friendship."
Cally watched as the twins turned and walked away dejectedly, their heads down and shoulders slumped. Although she was relieved that Bella and Bette weren't mad at her, the sight of them looking so forlorn made Cally feel like she'd just hurled a bag full of fluffy little kitties into the river.
"I hope you're happy," Melinda said. "You get to dump your friends without having to feel guilty about it."
"I'm as far from happy as you could possibly imagine right now," Cally replied. "The last thing I wanted to do was treat them like Lilith does." She paused to look around the cafeteria. "Speaking of which, I haven't seen her around tonight."
"If I know her," Melinda said with a sour smile,
"wherever she is right now, it's definitely rated triple X. You know: exciting, exclusive, and expensive."
The Vanitas Halloween party was being held in an event space in one of the old skyscrapers looking out onto Union Square. Waiters bearing silver trays laden with champagne and shrimp cocktails hurried in and out of the full-size kitchen, while costumed guests looked out the arched windows onto the park or lounged on the couches and ottomans scattered around the room. Kristof led Lilith by the hand through the beautiful people, stopping every now and then to briefly chat with friends and business associates. After a few minutes of wandering through the crowd, the photographer succeeded in locating the hostess of the party: Fiona Alphew, publisher of Vanitas, one of the most respected publications in the fashion industry.
The millionaire publisher was dressed as Medusa, complete with realistic-looking viper hair extensions. She smiled warmly as Kristof approached her. "There you are!" she said. "I was afraid you weren't going to make it."
"You know I never miss your parties, my dear!" the photographer replied. "Besides, I wanted you to meet my newest discovery, Lili Graves."
"Oh. My. God!" Fiona gasped in admiration.
"Wherever did you find her, Kristof? She is stunning!"
"It's a long story, darling-one that would make a sweet editorial piece," he said, winking as he gave her arm a gentle squeeze.
"Always the hustler!" The older woman laughed.
"You better watch out, sweetie! He's a silver-tongued devil, this one."
Kristof snagged a couple glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, handing one to Lilith. She brought it up to her lips but did not actually drink. The moment Kristof turned back to continue chatting with Fiona, Lilith discreetly dumped her drink into a nearby potted plant.
"So who else is here?"
"Naomi is over there by the buffet-she's the one dressed like Marie Antoinette. And I saw Tyra hobnobbing with Anna just a few moments ago."
As Kristof turned to scan the crowded room, his face suddenly went pale. "Oh my God-what is she doing here? Shouldn't she still be in the hospital?"
Lilith followed the photographer's gaze and was surprised to see Gala sitting in a wheelchair on the other side of the room. Both of the model's legs were in plaster casts and strapped into what looked like combination cross-country ski boots and medieval torture devices. Standing behind her was a tall, sandy-haired man in his early thirties.
"It was the idea of that agent of hers," Fiona said sourly. "When he left Ford, he took her with him. She was his only real ticket."
"Well, I suppose I should go over and say hello,"
Kristof said, tossing back the rest of his drink. He took a deep breath and forced a smile onto his face before walking across the room. "Gala! Darling!"
"Kristof!" The model grabbed his hands and held on to them. Her smile was wide and desperate. "I was hoping you'd be here!"
"How are you feeling, dear? I must say I'm surprised to see you out so soon."
"You remember my agent, Derek, don't you?"
"Yes, of course," Kristof replied.
"I got a call from Karl yesterday," Derek blurted, his words slightly slurred from drink. "He expects Gala to give back her signing fee-or what's left of it, anyway. He's claiming she breached her contract."
"What? I'm sorry to hear that, Derek. I had no idea."
"It was an accident, Kristof! A bloody accident!"
Derek's voice was loud enough to be heard over the surrounding cocktail party banter. "It's not Gala's fault she fell down the stairs and broke her legs!"
"I was drunk," Gala conceded, her eyes slightly glazed.
"Shut up!" Derek snapped. "Didn't I tell you to let me do the talking? You're on painkillers. You don't know what you're saying!"
"Look, Derek, I don't have any say over what Karl does," Kristof said, struggling to keep his voice calm.
"He makes his decisions with Nazaire and that business partner of theirs. But you had to know we couldn't wait on Gala. Luckily, we managed to find a last-minute replacement." He turned and motioned for Lilith to join him. "Lili, come over here, will you? I'd like you to meet Gala."
As Lilith stepped forward, what little color remained in Gala's face drained away and her body began to shudder uncontrollably. Her head lolled back on her shoulders as foam spilled from her wildly champing jaws.
"She's having a seizure!" Derek shouted, looking about in alarm as his meal ticket began to spasm.
"Somebody call nine-one-one!"
There was the sound of something liquid splashing against the hardwood floor, accompanied by the strong smell of ammonia. A shared cry of "Eeewwww!" arose from those nearest the wheelchair as they stepped back from the puddle spreading out across the floor.
"Gross!" Lilith grimaced, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "She peed herself!" She watched as the loser agent wheeled his former star out of the room like a broken toy, doing her best not to smile in triumph. It served the bitch right.
"She's worse off than I thought." Kristof shook his head in disgust. "That girl needs to be in the hospital, not out networking."
As the waiter who drew the short straw arrived with a mop and bucket and began cleaning up the evidence of Gala's attendance at the party, Kristof took Lilith by the hand and led her away.
As she watched the costumed humans drink what seemed like an endless stream of wine and cocktails, Lilith found herself growing increasingly antsy. She was having about as much fun as a designated driver at the prom! She hated not being able to party with everyone else. Unlike the humans surrounding her, she could only get her drink on secondhand.
Suddenly her iPhone began to play Cobra Starship's
"Smile for the Paparazzi." Lilith pulled it out of her purse and turned it off.
"Was that your boyfriend?"
"It was nothing that couldn't wait," she replied with a shrug.
"But you do have a boyfriend, don't you?" Kristof teased. "I mean, a beautiful young girl like yourself-
I'd be really surprised if you didn't."
Lilith hesitated for a moment before finally nodding. She didn't want to give Kristof too much information about herself, but at the same time she was flattered by his interest, plus she found it hard to pass up an opportunity to talk about herself.
"You could call him that, I guess."
"Is it serious?"
"I used to think so-but now, I'm not so sure. Things have changed since we first got together."
"They always do at your age," Kristof said, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, it's only natural. Speaking of which, I need to take a quick trip to the gents before I reenact Gala's little showstopper. I won't be long."
She hadn't been sober at a party since she was thirteen, and she wasn't about to go cold turkey now. It was just a question of figuring out who, when, and where-
and pulling it off without drawing attention to herself. She cast her gaze about the room in search of suitable prey and quickly spotted a twentysomething dressed in a pirate costume who was having a little trouble staying on his feet. At first she thought he was simply in character, but as she watched him a little more closely, she realized he was not just drunk but positively stinko. She walked up to the faux pirate, who was drinking a rum and Coke, and flashed him her patented smile.
"I like your costume."
"Thanks," the fake buccaneer said, trying hard to stand up straight. "My, um, my name is Tim, by the way."
"Hi, Tim. I'm Lili."
"Are you a model?"
"You could say that."
"That's cool," Tim the Pirate said, bobbing his head up and down. "I'm, uh, I'm an intern."
"Aren't you kind of young to be a doctor?"
"Ha! Good one!" Tim laughed. "No, I work as an assistant over at Vanitas."
"That's cool, I guess," Lilith said. She had the clot on the hook. Now all she had to do was separate him from the herd as quickly as possible. "I'm going for some fresh air," she said, pointing at the door that opened onto the terrace. "Care to join me?"
"Don't mind if I do," Tim the Pirate Intern replied.
"A little fresh air couldn't hurt right now."
It had taken Kristof longer than he'd thought to get in and out of the men's room. By the time he got back to the party, Lili was nowhere to be seen. He waved down a passing waiter who was carrying a tray of hors d'oeuvres.
"You didn't happen to see the young lady who was standing here a few minutes ago, did you?"
"You mean the smoking-hot blonde?" the waiter asked. "Last I saw, she went out on the terrace with some loser dressed like a pirate. I guess she was looking for a bit of the ol' Jolly Roger."
Suddenly the French doors swung open and Lili reentered the room, sans her buccaneer beau. Kristof looked out onto the terrace and saw the young man slumped across a marble bench next to the railing.
"What happened to your friend?" Kristof asked. Lilith didn't know what Tim the Pirate had been guzzling, popping, snorting, and smoking earlier that night, but she was riding a pretty good buzz. She giggled. "I'm afraid he's walked the plank."
Cally looked out the window of the train as it sped along the Williamsburg Bridge toward the lights of Brooklyn. She flipped her cell phone open and paged through the address book until she found the number she was looking for. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and punched the call button. As she counted the rings on the other end, she told herself she had to be out of her mind for doing this.
"Hello?"
Cally was so startled by the sound of Jules's voice in her ear she nearly dropped the phone. "Oh! Hi! I thought it was going to go to voice mail," she said with a nervous laugh.
"Who is this?" Jules asked. Cally could hear the muted, jackhammer thump of high-volume dance beats in the background. "Lilith? Is that you?"
"No. It's Cally. You gave me your number a couple of nights ago, remember?"
"Oh! Hi, Cally!" Jules's voice brightened. "Give me a second, okay-I'm going to go where it's easier to talk."
There was the sound of movement on the other end, followed by the creak of a door opening. Suddenly the background noise dropped substantially. "There. That's better." Jules sighed in relief. "So-did you change your mind about the Grand Ball?"
"Well, I'm, uh, calling, aren't I?"
"Cool! You want me to be your escort?"
"Yes. Assuming you're still available, that is?"
"Of course I still want to be your escort. But I thought you said you didn't want to antagonize Lilith. Aren't you afraid of making her mad?"
As Cally pondered Jules's question, she suddenly became aware of an odd sensation in her left hand as it rested atop her knee. It kind of felt like the tingling sensation she'd experienced when her stormgathering ability had first started to manifest itself when she was thirteen. The difference was that the feeling associated with stormgathering came from without, while this seemed to be coming from within, as if some unseen force was gathering itself inside her hand.
"Not anymore," Cally replied.