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Masked Longing Page 6


  Ah, the pleasure of uncertainty. It kept one young. He had to admit to a morbid curiosity about exactly how bad the night would be.

  Would he add to it by putting his foot in his mouth when he tackled that talk they’d started earlier? Maybe, but it would have to wait. Although he was eager to thrash it out, before dinner with the parents was not the ideal time.

  Estelle met him in the corridor, looking charming in a black sleeveless dress that showed off her shoulders and little black shoes with a band over the instep. With her pointy chin and huge eyes, she looked like an elegant cat: wise but with a mischievous streak. She smiled when she caught sight of him.

  “You look nice,” she said approvingly.

  “Thank you. So do you.” The words were polite, but Estelle blushed a faint pink as she looked up with a vulnerable expression that tugged at him. He cleared his throat.

  “Ah. Should we go?”

  A black BMW waited in the courtyard. Estelle slid behind the wheel then pressed the ignition. She gunned it out of the drive. “I haven’t driven in a while,” she said. “Forgot how much I enjoyed it.”

  “When did you learn?” he asked as she turned onto the main road. Since most arcana were extremely long-lived, it was always interesting to learn about their adaptations to the modern world. He remembered the first time he took the wheel himself, the powerful exhilaration of feeling the machine beneath his hands. It had been far better than horseback riding. He’d always been a terrible equestrian, too worried about the animal under him.

  “As soon as I could. Luckily, my mentor Cressida insisted because, if you can believe it, my parents were against me learning to drive.”

  He turned from looking at the ditches—checking for alligators—to regard her in surprise. “They what?” He’d first taken the wheel of a Dodge back in the Jazz Age.

  “They said that as long as I was in training I should use the advantages it offered.”

  “Like a driver?”

  “Exactly. They thought it was more fitting for my station.” She grimaced. “I was in my twenties and living with them, so I had to hear about it a lot.”

  “That’s important to them?” Stephan’s question was obviously not as subtle as he thought, because she grinned at him.

  “You have no idea.”

  “Dinner is going to be horrible, isn’t it?” he asked morosely.

  “Oh, almost certainly.” Estelle wrinkled her nose and he wanted to lean over and kiss the freckle right on the left of it.

  Instead, he rubbed his hand along his shaved head. “All right. Tell me what to expect.”

  She slowed down and flicked on the left turn signal. Stephan craned his neck and saw a few roofs poking through the trees up ahead. “We’ll drive up. I’ll park. My parents will ask if I drove myself and look disapproving.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish. We’ll have drinks in the Yellow Room, because my parents have in fact named every room in the house. Felix and Raoul Montega will arrive late, but I will be blamed for putting the timing of the meal off. Raoul will flirt with my mother and it will be painful to witness. Conversation will be about important people they know and trying to find out which important people you know.”

  “I changed my mind about coming. You can take me back to the compound. I’ll order a pizza.”

  Estelle continued remorselessly. “They will try to pump me about information to do with court, Wavena, and now I assume, the invocation. We will have dinner. It will be delicious and the portions tiny.”

  “Damn it.”

  “Conversation at dinner, if we are lucky, will be business and politics.” She looked over at him, now serious. “This is where we should pay attention. My parents are not Dawning supporters, but they, and many of their friends, think it’s time for arcana to be more known in the world.”

  “Humans?”

  “Are second-class, of course.” Her red mouth twisted. “You know how vampires don’t like how masquerada think they’re better than us?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s because we are obviously tops.” She turned right and pulled up to a set of gates that opened immediately.

  “High security,” he observed. The shadows of dogs ran across the lawn in the early dusk.

  “My parents like to think it’s needed and Felix loves it.”

  This dinner was going to suck. Stephan took a moment to collect himself when Estelle pulled up in front of a hideous McMansion. Two marble lions sat on brick pillars with their right paws raised in salute. Stephan groaned and Estelle giggled.

  “They’re named.”

  “Elvis and Priscilla?”

  “Duty and Righteousness.”

  That was a surprise. Stephan looked at the sculpted lions—he could have sworn they were smirking—with consideration. Despite Estelle’s flippant description, there would be more to these people than met the eye. They might let something slip about the Dawning that he could use.

  All he had to do was let them outsmart themselves. A surge of anticipation took him by surprise. Dinner might be more interesting than he expected.

  They got out of the car but before they were even on the first step, the door flew open to reveal a tall woman with small features and a big smile dressed in a black maid’s uniform. “Mademoiselle,” she said in a gravelly voice.

  Estelle smiled. “Enough of that bullshit.” There was real pleasure in her voice.

  The woman rolled her eyes and lowered her voice. “You know the drill.”

  “Right.” Estelle cleared her throat. “Marianne. Please inform my parents that I have brought a guest to join us. Mr. Stephan Daker.”

  “Of course, mademoiselle.” She ushered them into a large foyer. Stephan turned to Estelle for an explanation as Marianne disappeared deeper into the house.

  “I’ve known Marianne for years. She’s great.” The black-and-white checked floor was set off by gold furniture and mirrors everywhere he looked. Estelle stood reflected beside him, her expression pensive. She smiled with her lips only when their gazes caught in the mirror.

  He touched her shoulder gently and then she gave him the true smile he realized he’d been craving.

  Marianne appeared again. “Into the Yellow Room, if you please.”

  Estelle’s smile dropped. “So it begins.”

  * * * *

  Estelle sipped her Perrier with lime as she listened to Felix bitch about her inability to get him hired at court, a dull throb slinking up every vertebra. She cursed herself. She should have made more time for her parents when she’d been in Orlando. Felix had taken advantage of her absence to encourage her parents’ less-wonderful traits. Her mother, Helene, nodded eagerly and cast an occasional disapproving glance in her direction.

  “Now that Estelle is going to be the seneschal major, she’ll be in a real position to help you as a sister should,” her mother said once she was able to get a word in. “As long as the queen remains happy with her, despite the weakness of her inexperience. She is no Cressida, after all.”

  “What did you say?” Felix asked sharply.

  Her father, Renault, answered. “When Queen Wavena called your mother and I directly—” he paused to let his words settle in “—she invited the family to the invocation in two days. An announcement will be made tomorrow.”

  The entire room stared at her and she said nothing. Raoul raised his glass. “Congratulations,” he said. “Do you have an idea who your minor may be? You’ll be able to guide them. Teach them. What a responsibility.”

  She smiled at him even as her heart thumped. It wasn’t surprising Raoul would be the one to pick up on her lack of desire for the role. Despite his ego and other flaws, he was surprisingly observant.

  “Wavena and I have chatted about it a few times,” she said casually. “Of course I won’t know until the cer
emony.”

  Raoul nodded to Stephan, who after the introductions had done that thing he did: appeared almost invisible. Estelle had often wondered how he managed it, but he acted as if he had no idea what she was talking about. It suddenly occurred to her how little she knew about the masquerada, even after a year of working closely with them, and how much less she knew about Stephan.

  “Your guest will be ignorant of court ritual,” Raoul said.

  Renault poured himself another drink and refilled the glass Felix waved in his direction. “You can be assured the queen will be the soul of hospitality,” he said firmly. “The other day, when I was—”

  Not another story about talking to someone who knew the queen. They didn’t care that Estelle spoke to the queen almost every day, but were happy to relay any small anecdote about the minor royal interactions their friends had. Estelle interrupted. “Wavena said she’d walk Stephan through it. As the official liaison of our most valued ally, she wants to make sure he is happy, of course.” Eat that, Raoul.

  Stephan flashed Raoul a friendly smile. “The queen is generous, but as the head librarian, you must be extremely knowledgeable about the ceremony.”

  “I might know a bit.” Raoul puffed up. Felix muttered something from the couch he’d been lounging on, guzzling champagne, since he’d arrived. Helene looked at him with concern and Estelle saw her furtively press the button to tell the staff to serve dinner immediately.

  Felix reared up from the couch. “Enough with the blah-blah. When’s dinner?”

  “Soon, darling,” soothed Helene. “Your sister was late so we’re a bit behind.” Estelle tried not to roll her eyes.

  “Estelle will be in charge of the Ancients,” said Renault. “I know we’re not supposed to talk about that, but we’re in a safe space here.”

  “Not supposed to discuss it?” asked Stephan.

  “We generally don’t talk about the Ancients,” said Raoul before Estelle could answer. “It’s unseemly and brings up memories of times most of us would rather forget.”

  Stephan looked sympathetic but said, “Yet as our host says, we are in a safe place…what’s the connection?”

  “Estelle will be in charge of their safety,” said her mother. “I hope she can cope with the responsibility.” Estelle tried not to think of this. The Ancients had been Cressida’s job.

  “I think we can trust Estelle to keep us safe as well,” murmured Raoul.

  Stephan turned to Raoul, who swirled his drink. “Safe?”

  “Indeed. The Ancient Paulina wanted to experience the world again. A long time ago, she took over the seneschal major and sent both him and the deputy insane, as well as many others. Part of Estelle’s role is to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

  Estelle shuddered.

  Raoul caught her eye from across the room and gave her a small nod, this time honestly compassionate. He knew in three days she was going to be in front of the Ancients with her own deputy. It wasn’t an experience she looked forward to. She hated the idea of the Ancients. It had never bothered Cressida, though, and she’d come to wonder if it was that she herself saw the Ancients as emblematic of everything she was trying to avoid.

  The bell rang and Estelle sighed with relief. First hurdle complete and if she knew her mother, Helene would make sure her sweet Felix drank progressively more watered wine the rest of the night.

  If only it was that easy to stop her brother from being a jerk permanently.

  Chapter 9

  Stephan bit into a richly flavored miniature roasted carrot—Estelle’s predictions about portion size had been sadly correct—and let the conversation wash over him. The night had not been too bad. Estelle was sensitive about her family, but they were the usual dysfunctional collection of oddities and egos. Felix had almost drunk himself into a stupor within the first thirty minutes. Helene’s constant worried checks on her son were annoying and her put-downs of Estelle had his teeth on edge. Renault LaMarche was mostly concerned with telling stories about how important he was—Stephan assumed he’d have seen how this trait passed down to Felix had the son put more effort into the conversation—but Stephan had dealt with other pompous bores and this was no problem.

  They were chatting about the weather and how it affected the hotel business, which was both harmless and interesting once Renault had gone through the list of celebrities who’d stayed with them and exactly what they’d said.

  “Even the masquerada Hierarch Europa, Lady Hilde, stayed while she was here,” said Helene proudly. “Very polite but, my dear, such hours.”

  Stephan stifled a grin. When Caro Yeats had gone to meet her aunt in Berlin, she had staggered back from the airport and faintly told them that Hilde sure enjoyed a party. Then Caro slept for two days straight.

  Raoul had thawed marginally since their discussion in the Yellow Room and Stephan built on that, asking him a few fawning questions about vampire history. Raoul was well-informed and the conversation, at least from the head librarian, flowed smoothly, and to Stephan’s surprise, easily.

  Estelle, on the other hand, was not having a good time. Stephan had watched her surreptitiously over the course of the dinner. She sat stiffly on the edge of her chair, eyes darting between her parents and brother and her jaw tight. She barely touched her food and Stephan had to admit that he had eyed her plate longingly across the table.

  Also, he’d checked the glasses. No goblets filled with blood anywhere. Vampires didn’t need to eat as they couldn’t extract the nutrients from anything but blood, but often did out of hedonism or to fit into other arcane or human groups. Would they have set out this spread if he wasn’t there? Stephan realized with a jolt that this was another thing he didn’t know. There were so many myths surrounding vampires that he didn’t know what was true and what was simply a convenient cover. In fact, this was the first time he’d ever socially been with a group of vampires on their own.

  It wasn’t until dessert—a crème brûlée that Stephan lingered over with real pleasure—that Felix roused himself. The conversation had been fairly light and the elder LaMarches had steered talk away from politics or any other contentious subject, instead talking about the Bernoff work in Wavena’s compound and human geopolitics. Occasionally Helene or Renault would make a point that let Stephan catch sight of the wit and keen observation he admired in Estelle.

  While Stephan appreciated this on a social level, it wasn’t helpful. He was considering how subtly to bring it back to the Dawning or a similar subject when Felix pounced. Stephan had been watching Estelle’s brother for a few minutes before he opened his mouth. The vamp broadcast his intentions like a goddamn child and ever since they cleared away the plates from the main meal, he’d been following the conversation intently. Felix was a curious character, obviously smart, as was clear from one or two of the comments, however rude, he’d made during dinner. He was bitter about his sister’s success. Stephan wondered how much of this was fueled by regular sibling rivalry and how much was simply discordant personalities. The mother certainly didn’t help matters.

  Part of him wanted to take the two siblings and smack their heads together for not appreciating how lucky they were to have each other. His own brother was gone now, dead for centuries. His brother’s children, his kin, were gone as well. Stephan couldn’t think of his younger brother without feeling the shackles around his ankle and the raw, gutted emptiness in his heart, even taking the place of the rage he’d felt when he’d been unable to protect his family. If his brother had been masquerada as well, would the two of them have ended up with enmity replacing love as the decades passed?

  Felix pushed away his plate, knocking it into his wine glass and splashing the watered-down pale pink Beaujolais onto the table. The conversation sputtered to a stop.

  “My sister says you’re friends with the masquerada hierarch,” said Felix loudly. “Is it true that his consort is only a hal
f-breed?”

  Both of Estelle’s parents’ mouths dropped open. Estelle glared at him and even Raoul looked surprised. Stephan, who had been expecting more of this over the course the night, was almost relieved. That didn’t prevent him from wanting to smash the smug little jerk’s face in. He kept calm. “Quite right,” he said. “Except we don’t use the term half-breed. Among masquerada the term is considered, I suppose you’d say, crude? Ignorant.”

  Estelle snickered and Felix shot her a look of disdain. Stephan tensed up. Felix was going to be someone to watch. Whatever was wrong in the relationship, it went deeper than some jealousy about Estelle’s new role.

  Felix recovered quickly and took a sip of his pale pink wine, wrinkling his nose at the taste but not bothering to check the glass. “You would, I suppose. We heard the masquerada were hemorrhaging people to the Dawning.”

  Stephan leaned back to give Marianne space to fill his coffee cup. “Thank you,” he said to her. She gave him a quick smile. He turned to Felix. “I’d be interested in knowing where you heard that.”

  Felix snorted and gave Marianne a rude wave to refuse coffee. “Everybody knows that,” he said. “After all, the Dawning is mostly masquerada.”

  Estelle’s parents nodded in unison. “That’s right,” said Helene approvingly. “Vampires wouldn’t support such an organization.”

  “Except for Madden,” Estelle muttered. Her parents ignored her.

  Felix on the other hand, turned to glare at her across the table. “Madden is a true vampire,” he said. “He knows the power of strength and would make a proper seneschal.”