There was a line of vampires to meet; some I already knew, and some I didn’t. I took my cue from Michael about how respectful to be, but not because I felt particularly humble; many of these old-school vamps took offense easily. When I got to Amelie and Oliver, I breathed a sigh of relief. They might take offense, but I knew what I could get away with.
I shook Amelie’s hand firmly. She was wearing white gloves, and I was pretty sure the diamonds around her wrists were real. The gown was ice blue and really beautiful, and probably made by some famous designer I’d never heard about. Oliver was in a tuxedo, with tails. Damn, he James Bonded up really well. He bent over my hand, just a little—more of a suggestion of a hand kiss than anything else.
And then there was Gloriana, in a deep, vivid red gown, laughing and flirting with a whole circle of male admirers, both vamp and human. I saw Richard Morrell, the mayor, right in there, while his sister, Monica, stood off to the side, looking very unhappy. She was used to being the belle of the ball, and she’d certainly dressed for it, but whatever she was wearing, it looked like a knockoff rag next to Gloriana’s dress, and she knew it. She also was alone, which was very unusual indeed. Even at a vampire party, she would have expected to draw some male attention, but there was a brand-new queen bee in town.
I felt Michael slowing as we passed Gloriana’s group, as if he was reluctant to miss the opportunity, but he kept going. We went to the punch table, which featured two kinds—with plasma and without. He poured mine first. When I looked over at him, his face looked paler than normal, and the pupils of his eyes had gone wide, even in the relatively bright light.
“What?” I asked him.
“Nothing.”
Shane squired Claire over to join us, already scanning the edible snacks with the eye of a kid who’d grown up snatching food where he could. He grabbed a plate and filled it until Claire slapped his hand. “You’re not starving,” she said. “Come on.”
“It’s been a long time since lunch,” Shane said. “So, yeah, I am, Slappy Girl. Do you want one of these or not?” He held up a carrot stick. When she nodded, he fed it to her. Awww. So cute. “All right, you are now a party to the overindulgence. Quiet.”
Claire, bless her, had somehow blackmailed Shane into donning a suit jacket, at least, although the pants looked suspiciously like dark jeans. At least he’d left the tuxedo T-shirt at home. The vamps wouldn’t have been amused. He was even wearing a tie, though it featured Bettie Page in a lot of provocative poses. I hoped Oliver hadn’t noticed.
“Did you see Gloriana?” Claire asked her boyfriend. Shane—big, scruffy Shane, who was cute in a totally different way from Michael, but really, just about as sweet—looked down at her and cocked one eyebrow.
“Am I alive?” he asked, and put his hand over his heart. “Yep, I noticed her. Oh, sorry, Mikey. No offense to the unalive.”
Michael would normally have flipped him off—best-friends love—but he just gave Shane a look. Not his normal look, either. “Watch yourself with her,” Michael said. “There’s something . . . not right about her.”
“Dude, she looks very right.” Shane lost his humor, and started to frown. “Are you okay?”
“I can feel . . .” Michael shut his eyes tightly. “I can feel her from here. It’s like a . . . call. A pull.”
His hand was tight on mine, so tight it was painful, and I gave a little squeak of pain. When his eyes opened, they were crimson, and his pupils had shrunk down to small pinpoints.
I turned and looked. Gloriana was standing up. The men crowding around her were backing off, making . . . an exit. She smiled at them and glided out, hardly seeming to touch the floor as she went.
She headed straight for us.
For Michael.
She was wearing red gloves, and her diamonds, just like Amelie’s, were real. Her smile was brighter than the glitter of the jewels. “Michael,” she said, and took his hands in hers. He dropped mine so fast it was as if he’d forgotten I was there, and leaned in. She air-kissed him on both cheeks. He didn’t pull back very far, and she didn’t let go of his hands. “So glad you came to my party. It wouldn’t have been a welcome without you, mon cher.” She did let go then, but only to reach up and touch his eyelids to close them. “You’re going too far. Control. You must learn control.”
He was shuddering very slightly, but when she stepped back, he opened his eyes, and the red was almost gone. Almost. “Thanks,” he said. His voice sounded rough in his throat. “Have you met my friends? You remember Eve. . . .”
Somehow, having my name follow the word “friends” didn’t make me feel any better at all. I didn’t say anything. Neither did Gloriana, who just nodded very slightly. I couldn’t tell what she felt about me, if she felt anything at all.
“And this is Claire—”
“Yes, we’ve met,” Gloriana said. Her voice was warm and very sweet. “How is dear Myrnin? I thought he would be here tonight.”