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As we headed up the stairs, I glanced back at the others. "Stick together. Don't let them separate us. We don't know what we're getting into and we can't afford to get embroiled in any skirmishes."
Leo nodded. "Remember not to meet a vampire's gaze. It's considered a challenge, and against an older, powerful vampire, we wouldn't last a minute."
Before I could reach for the doorbell, the double doors swung open and a tall, beautifully sculpted man stood before us. He was wearing a butler's uniform and his eyes were the black of night. Vampire. He bowed, swinging low.
"Hi, Regina asked me to come--" I started to say but he cut me off.
"You are Mistress Cicely Waters. And with you, your companions Master Leo Bryne, and Mistress Rhiannon Roland." The vampire nodded at each of us in turn. "You are expected. Please follow me."
He stood back and I stared at the door, feeling like I was about to walk right into the giant monster's gaping maw. Once the doors shut behind us, we'd be at the mercy of vampires and nobody knew where we were. I glanced at the others. Leo nodded. Sucking up the fear, I stepped across the threshold.
The foyer twinkled. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, with a hundred crystals dangling from the incandescent candlestick lights, and the hallway glittered as if bathed in diamonds from the refracted light.
"How beautiful," Rhiannon whispered.
Looking to the left, a short hallway forked to the right directly before ending in a set of double doors, their ivory surfaces covered in golden scrollwork. Directly in front of us, a master staircase led up several flights, splitting in a T at the central landings.
To our right, the hallway forked in a left turn, but the double doors were open and music filtered out from the room.
Huge potted plants decorated the foyer, miniature trees in porcelain urns that must have easily weighed a hundred pounds without the weight of the soil or plant. Tables lined the walls--long consoles in marble and wrought brass and bronze. Paintings lined the walls and as I approached the nearest I saw the name Monet and the brush strokes and realized that it was authentic. Whoever owned this estate had money. Good money.
The room was lit with chandeliers and a rotating disco ball, but somehow none of the glitz looked tacky, just sparkly and brilliant. There were odd scents in the air--perfumes that I'd never smelled but that made me think of lush gardens and opium dens.
And then, there were the vampires. I had fleeting glimpses of actual humans in the crowd, but the vampires were easy to pick out. Pupilless eyes might be freaky on Little Orphan Annie, but the vamps made them work. It would be so easy to fall into the blackness, to lose yourself in that shining void.
They seemed to be dancing in slow motion, strobed by the flashing of the rotating light, caught in freeze-frame to the rhythm of the music. The room was filled with Armani and Vera Wang and Calvin Klein and Yves Saint Laurent's Rive Gauche, and I began to realize these were power players. Old money scented the room, oily and thick and rooted in deals long dust.
"Are there any poor vamps?" Rhiannon whispered, and several of the nearest dancers turned their heads our way. One gave us a long, languorous smile. "Oh shit, they heard me," she added.
I nodded back at the smiling vamp and murmured under my breath, "Yeah, watch your mouth."
"I'm so glad you could make it."
One moment we were standing alone, the next--a woman stood by my side. She held out her hand and I cautiously accepted. Her skin was cool but not clammy, and silken. Golden blonde, with her hair gathered into an elegant chignon, she was no taller than Rhiannon but she wore her power like a cloak.
"I'm Regina Altos, Emissary to the Crimson Queen." She lingered a moment on my hand, rubbing my palm with one finger, before inclining her head at the others. "I'm so glad you and your friends could attend our little soiree."
Leo and Rhiannon murmured politely while I frantically tried to think of what to say next. This wasn't my usual social situation. I scrambled but was drawing a blank. Should I just act like I belonged here? Should I ask her what she wanted? Was it rude to take charge of the conversation with someone who was older than the pyramids? Luckily, Regina put an end to my dilemma.
"Come. We will return to enjoy the party, but for now--a meeting. Your friends are invited to sit in; no doubt you would tell them what we say anyway." She motioned for us to follow her and we wove through the crowd toward the end of the room where I could see yet another door.
On the way, I bumped up against a vamp and he looked down at me, hunger and delight filling his face. Catching my breath, I narrowed my shoulders and hurried past, trying to squeeze through without attracting any more attention than necessary.
Regina led us into a study--which was bigger than our living room at home--and there, behind the desk, sat a man, vaguely Chinese, but he obviously had some other bloodline going on in there, too. He looked to be around thirty, but by his eyes, I knew he was far older than that. He was dressed in a pair of leather pants, a ruffled lavender shirt, and a leather vest. His long, sharp nails were painted with gold and his hair hung down to his waist, free and smoothly onyx. In a word: Stunning.
He stood as we entered the room and motioned for us to take a seat in a conversation area. We sat in a line on the Victorian sofa, and waited.
"Look, they gather together like a litter of kittens," he said, smiling at us. He glanced up at Regina, who let out a throaty laugh.
"Leo, my trusty day runner, it's good of you to come with your new friend and your lovely courtesan." The man took a seat in a wing chair opposite me, and Regina sat in the matching chair to his side.
"Thank you for the invitation, Lord Geoffrey." Leo bowed, formally, then took his place beside Rhiannon. I stared at him. His manner had totally shifted. He was in Geoffrey's pocket for tonight. Once again, I wondered about the safety of having someone so aligned with the vamps living in our house, but thinking about the alternative--being without his added protection--made me just as nervous.
I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry, but we haven't been introduced." I stood and gave him a very short bow. Instinct told me to reserve shaking hands for people who weren't likely to look at my wrist like a feeding station.
He grinned, then, and glanced at Regina. "You're right. She's got spunk. I smell fear hiding there, too, but she covers it well."
Feeling even more put out, I let out a short huff and that produced yet another response. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.
