Beyond The Pale Part 7

I plopped into a chair and threw my backpack down with a bang onto the floor. "Good evening to you too. And before we start, I'm parched. I need something to drink. Is there a c.o.ke machine on this floor?"

"No, no c.o.ke machine," he said. He seemed to be talking through clenched teeth. "You know, this is not a joke."

"I didn't think it was," I said as I shrugged out of my jacket. His scowl deepened. I rattled on. "Do you mind if I grab that bottle of water over there? It's probably warm, but that's okay." I got up and sauntered over to a table. I picked up the bottle with maddening slowness, twisted off the cap, and took a long swallow. I wiped my mouth off with my hand before I went back to my seat. "That's better. So, J, what's so important it couldn't wait until tomorrow? Is this about my going to Schneibel?" I said, all wide-eyed and innocent.

"No, we expected you to contact Schneibel. It fit your profile. What we didn't expect was this." He pulled out a snapshot and slapped it down on the table in front of me.

The photo showed me kissing Darius on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We were in quite a clinch.

I was shocked that I had been followed and didn't know it. My stomach started churning, but I kept my voice light and unconcerned. "It's me and the guy I've been seeing. So?"

"So? So! You've been seeing Darius Bella CHI's. How long has this been going on?" J's jaw was so tight I thought he was going to splinter his molars.

"A while. What's the big deal?" I said. My anger was growing to match his.

"Don't bulls.h.i.+t me," he bellowed. "It had to start after you were recruited. He's an agent and you d.a.m.n well know it. He picked you up to get information from you. What did you tell him?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And how do you know he he picked picked me me up? Maybe I came on to him! We met; we had great chemistry. It's nothing to do with business. End of story." But what J said had put words to my own suspicions. My distrust of Darius came back in full force, and yet I no longer believed J either. I felt manipulated from both sides and getting angrier by the moment. up? Maybe I came on to him! We met; we had great chemistry. It's nothing to do with business. End of story." But what J said had put words to my own suspicions. My distrust of Darius came back in full force, and yet I no longer believed J either. I felt manipulated from both sides and getting angrier by the moment.

As if picking up on my unspoken thoughts, J said, "'You can't believe that. We know he's been keeping Bonaventure under surveillance. His people won't talk to my people. I need to know what he's told you."

I decided right then that I was shutting J out of what I was doing until I found out who was on mx mx side, if anybody. "Nothing," I said. "He told me nothing. I told him nothing. As you can see from the photo, we weren't doing a lot of talking." side, if anybody. "Nothing," I said. "He told me nothing. I told him nothing. As you can see from the photo, we weren't doing a lot of talking."

"Stop being a fool. He's using you. How far has this gone? Are you sleeping with him?"

I felt as if I were a criminal being interrogated. I stood up, grabbing my jacket and backpack. I had had enough, and I was leaving. "That's none of your business," I spit at him. I opened the door, but before I knew what was happening, J was in front of me, forcing me back into the room and slamming it shut again.

"It d.a.m.n well is my business," he screamed right in my face, "if he's using you to get to our target, and I'm sure he is. Answer me, d.a.m.n it. I need to know."

This was getting out of hand, and before I got into a shoving or shouting match with J. I decided to pull back. Taking the shrillness out of my own voice, I retreated a few steps and said calmly, "Look, we met. We kissed. We progressed from there. It was as good for him as it was for me. s.e.x is not love. Don't worry about it. Darius told me he was an agent who was keeping surveillance on Bonaventure. He's been totally up-front with me. He's got his thing, and we have ours, and there's no problem."

J just shook his head, his anger deflating like a spent balloon. He said with disgust, "If you've slept with him, you've already compromised the entire unit."

My feelings were still churning, although I was using all my will to control them. I was being treated as if I was an idiot without an ounce of intelligence. Despite my efforts at calming down, I started to yell again. "How can you say that? I told you I didn't tell him anything. And we just have a physical thing going. Good s.e.x, but nothing more. No strings attached."

Suddenly J was like a volcano about to erupt. "You're a woman, G.o.d d.a.m.n it. For a woman s.e.x always always has strings attached. It has strings attached. It always always means something to you. From the looks of this picture, you've already fallen for him. You cannot know what you're doing!" J was now Vesuvius in full lava flow. "You idiot! Don't you understand? Darius isn't just 'an agent.' " means something to you. From the looks of this picture, you've already fallen for him. You cannot know what you're doing!" J was now Vesuvius in full lava flow. "You idiot! Don't you understand? Darius isn't just 'an agent.' "

I was shaking with fury. I threw my jacket down on the table, my hands on my hips as I squared off in front of J. I thought this kind of s.e.xist c.r.a.p went out in the 1980s. I was about to give J a real piece of my mind when the last thing he said registered. I stopped in my tracks. "What do you mean, Darius isn't just 'an agent'?"

J glared at me. "Darius Bella CHI's is a loose cannon. Unpredictable. Even his handler can't control him. He has his own agenda. And d.a.m.n it all to h.e.l.l, Daphne, tell me you don't know-he's a vampire slayer!"

I felt the blood draining from my face. My hands turned to ice. The room spun. I thought I was going to pa.s.s out. Somehow I managed to keep my voice from betraying me. "I can't believe that. Do you know that for a fact? Where's your proof?" I spit the words out.

J looked at me. He seemed to be struggling with what he was about to say. Finally he said, "I don't have any proof. But it's more than a rumor. It's what people who are in a position to know are saying. He has a personal vendetta against vampires. We can't take the chance that it's true. You may have already endangered the whole team. He can use you to find them all. You have to stay away from him."

My mind was racing, internally reviewing everything Darius had said and done, searching for clues I could have missed. There were red flags I should have spotted, yet a small voice inside me was warning that I just couldn't trust what J said. It was exactly what he would make up to hurt me, to get even for my transforming.

"I don't believe he is a vampire slayer. I would bet my life that he isn't. I repeat, what goes on between Darius and me is none of your G.o.dd.a.m.n business. What is your business is my meeting with Bonaventure. On the way down in the cab I wrote up a report. Here." I reached in my backpack for a folder. I threw it on the table. "That's exactly what I heard at Bonaventure's, what I saw, and what I did there. I'm scheduled to meet him again Monday night. The bugs are in place. What else do you want me to do?" I sat back and folded my arms across my chest.

J picked up the folder and stalled reading my report. He said, "We've already picked up some information from your plants. Things are moving fast, I'll have instructions for you by Sunday. Don't be out of touch." He glared at me. "And don't see Darius Bella CHI's again," he ordered.

My eyes flashed, and I was ready to tell him to go take a flying leap into the ocean, when, no longer yelling, he added in a gentle tone, "It's too big a risk. I mean it, Daphne. If he finds out what you are, he won't hesitate. He'll put a stake through your heart." I almost believed he was truly worried about me-for about a nanosecond.

"Go f.u.c.k yourself, J," I said. I got up slowly, put on my jacket, and swung my backpack onto my shoulder. "I'm tired. I'm going home to bed. If you need to get in touch with me in a hurry, call my cell phone like everyone else. I'm sure you have the number. But if it's turned off, it means I'm busy. Or in bed... with whomever I d.a.m.n well please." I threw my backpack over my shoulder and walked out. I left J standing there staring after me. I don't know what he was thinking, but I bet it wasn't a pretty thought.

As for Darius, I didn't know what to believe. But I'd be watchful. The worm of doubt was already burrowing deep into the heart of the rose.

Chapter 8.

The c.o.c.ktail Party .

For our Sat.u.r.day evening out, Benny had gussied herself up to the nines. She was wearing a Betsey Johnson fuchsia number with a slit up the side that went all the way to Honolulu. She had applied glittery body makeup and added gold sparkle to her hair. The heels on her mules were so high that I didn't know how she walked. She'd put on a full-length white fox coat. She wasn't subtle, but she looked good.

Reflecting my somber mood, I wore brown leather pants and a brown jersey halter top under a Harley motorcycle jacket. I had on square-toed Frye boots and didn't do much with my hair. I looked like a brown wren next to a peac.o.c.k.

Arriving at my mother's-she lived in Searsdale despite her counterculture proclivities-Benny and I were greeted at the door by a pimply-faced girl in a miniskirt and cowboy boots. She held a martini gla.s.s containing a clear liquid garnished with olives, no ice. "I just got these ready. Want one? Vodka martini. Or would you rather have gin?" she offered.

"Neither. No, thanks. Not for me. What about you, Benny?" I said.

"I wouldn't mind, sugar," Benny said. "Just to take the edge off."

"Stoli or gin?"

"Stoli."

"Anything in it?"

"Olives. And just rinse the gla.s.s out with vermouth, honey, if you don't mind. But I think I'd like to get my coat off first."

"No problemo," the girl said. "Just leave it on the chair and I'll hang it up for you. I hope it's fake fur. You know it's cruel and inhumane to kill animals for their pelts."

What about for their blood? I thought. What I said was, "By the way, who are you?"

"I'm Sage Thyme. I'm in your mother's Save the Trees: Stop the Deforestation Group."

"I didn't know the forest primeval still stood in Westchester. Logging and clear-cutting? What are they building, another mall?"

"You silly," Sage Thyme said as she downed her drink. "You are just like your mother said you would be. Very biting. I mean satiric. The logging's upstate in the Adirondacks. It's terrible, but I'm sure you knew that. You were just pulling my leg, weren't you? You know, you are so lucky. Your mom is really something. So much energy." Sage gave me a puzzled look and added, "She sort of looks younger than you." Then she shrugged and downed the rest of her drink before saying, "Well, she is is a vegetarian, and after all she was a teen mother in the slums. She told us all about how she was no more than a child when she had you, and how she had to claw her way out of poverty and her culturally deprived beginnings. She has such courage. What a wonderful role model for all of us!" Sage flashed me a loopy grin and went scurrying off toward the kitchen, and it was all I could do not to roll my eyes. a vegetarian, and after all she was a teen mother in the slums. She told us all about how she was no more than a child when she had you, and how she had to claw her way out of poverty and her culturally deprived beginnings. She has such courage. What a wonderful role model for all of us!" Sage flashed me a loopy grin and went scurrying off toward the kitchen, and it was all I could do not to roll my eyes.

"Oh, she's a role model, all right," I murmured to myself, "if someone needs a mentor for making up big fat lies." The real story was that my mother had been over six hundred years old when she had me. She lived in a doge's palace on the outskirts of Rome at the time and had already ama.s.sed enough gold and jewels to make her one of the wealthiest women in the world. The "clawed" part might be accurate, however.

On cue, my mother sailed into the hall, dressed in an inky-black floor-length gown that had a wide leather waistband and leather lacing up the front. I thought it could double as a wedding dress for the Bride of Frankenstein. The collar of the dress draped back into a huge hood that hung down the back nearly to the floor. Around her neck she wore her peace sign. She looked positively Goth. I'm lucky she wasn't wearing a nose ring. She clapped her hands at our arrival and said in an earsplitting voice, "Daphy, you look... you look very nice. And you've brought a friend!"

"Yes. Mar-Mar, this is Benny Polycarp, a colleague from my new job job." And I surrept.i.tiously gave Benny a pinch to remind her that my mother didn't know about our real job. I had rehea.r.s.ed what she should say on the drive up here, and I hoped she didn't blow it. "Benny, this is Marozia Urban, my mother."

"I am so pleased to meet you," Benny drawled. "It's such a homey-time feeling to visit with family again. Being alone in New York City makes me nervous as a wh.o.r.e in church, and that's the truth."

For the sake of appearances Mar-Mar had forgone her usual ganja for the more respectable high of alcohol. However, even with one foot in happy land, she narrowed her eyes at Benny in close scrutiny and gave her a careful once-over. "Where are you from?"

"Branson. Branson, Missouri. It's real country down there. Not like here. You have such a beautiful house, Marozia, and Scarsdale looks just so pretty. On our way here I saw that you have a Starbucks and a Barnes and n.o.ble, and all the good department stores. It looks just like heaven. Back home my house was so far out in a holler they had to pipe daylight in. Not that I wanted daylight much after I was turned."

Mar-Mar gave me a questioning look.

"Yes, she's a vampire," I whispered.

"Oh, right on!" Mar-Mar gushed. She put her arm around Benny's shoulder and steered her toward the living room. "But how in the world did a vampire end up in Branson?" she asked, softly, in a conspiratorial voice.

Tagging along behind them I could hear Benny start to tell her about a bluegra.s.s banjo player she met back in the 1920s, and he was just so sweet-talking, and the next thing she knew he was showing her things... why, she never dreamed people did that... and one thing led to another, and it just got out of hand, and her daddy would have just about kilt her if he found out, but he didn't find out, of course...

I had tuned out the conversation, however, because I had spotted the languid young man sprawled on the sofa. He had to be Louis. I nearly giggled as I took in his outfit. No straight man wore a s.h.i.+rt like that, lavender silk with French cuffs undone and dangling over his hands. He had a ring on every single finger, and I never could handle going out with a guy who wore more jewelry than I did. But it was his paleness and the brilliant green eyes that were almost incandescent that almost made me gasp. He noticed me staring at him, and looked back at me. The hair on my arms stood up, and I felt like something had walked over my grave. I swore I felt singed by his stare. He tossed his head, and dark curls tumbled over his brow. I couldn't make up my mind if he looked more like a young Keith Richards or RuPaul. His leather pants were so tight, it was obvious his "package" was either stuffed with a sock or very impressive. This This was my mother's choice of a mate for me? She had to be kidding. If the man wasn't gay he was at least bis.e.xual. was my mother's choice of a mate for me? She had to be kidding. If the man wasn't gay he was at least bis.e.xual.

Louis stood and gave a little bow toward the three of us. He was very tall. He smiled at me and gave me shudders. But as luck would have it, I didn't have to worry. He took one long look at Benny and never again looked anywhere else. He extended a white hand, and when she grasped it, he took hers to his lips and kissed her fingers one at a time. His mouth was very red. "I am Louis," he said, p.r.o.nouncing it the French way, as "Looey."

"Your accent?" Benny said.

"Louis'ana. And you?"

"The Show-Me State, sweetie," she purred. "Missouri. Why, we are practically kin."

Their eyes met and locked. They sat down on the sofa tight against each other, laughing and talking as if no one else existed. Mar-Mar looked nonplussed. Her best-laid plans had gone kaput for sure.

I couldn't have been happier. Giving up without a fight, Mar-Mar towed me over to meet Zoe, Louis's mom. Zoe was a bony harridan who must have been seventy when she was turned, because eternal youth eluded her. The thought of some young vampire lowering himself onto her wrinkled neck did not bear thinking about. She wore a boxy Chanel suit, held a cigarette holder in her fingers, and reeked of gin. Swaying as she rose from her chair, she gave me a long-toothed grin. "You look exactly like your mother!"

I repressed a snort, but just barely. My mother and I, a Mutt and Jeff duo, don't even look related. The woman was three sheets to the wind and probably couldn't see straight. Sage Thyme walked up with her tray. "Not another of those dreadful concoctions!" Zoe shrieked. "Get me a martini made with Bombay Sapphire, girl. Now that's what a real martini drinker prefers. And as Mar-Mar can tell you, I'm a real martini drinker."

Mar-Mar laughed and said, "Right on! Now, Zoe, tell us that story again-it's my favorite one-about being up in a tree with the maharaja. The story about the tigers."

"You missed the point completely, Marozia." She smiled a bleary smile. "There were were no tigers. no tigers. That That was the point." Zoe turned to me, stabbing the air with her cigarette holder, and tried to focus her eyes in my direction. "You see, Daphne, Louis and I had gone off to India... oh, it was back before the war." She stopped and drifted off for a moment. "Which war was it? I think it was the first? Was it the first, Mar-Mar? Well, whenever it was, the maharaja, the old devil, had only one thing on his mind..." was the point." Zoe turned to me, stabbing the air with her cigarette holder, and tried to focus her eyes in my direction. "You see, Daphne, Louis and I had gone off to India... oh, it was back before the war." She stopped and drifted off for a moment. "Which war was it? I think it was the first? Was it the first, Mar-Mar? Well, whenever it was, the maharaja, the old devil, had only one thing on his mind..."

The evening went downhill from there. I stuck it out for an hour before I suggested to Benny that we head back to the city. We could go clubbing if she wanted. She whispered to me that she hoped Louis could come too. She looked so happy I couldn't say no. I called a car service and we said our good-byes. Mar-Mar kissed the air beside my ear and made some sniffing sounds while murmuring something about always hurting the one you love. I was saved from a further guilt trip when her John Lennon CD started skipping and she rushed over to rescue it. The sound of Enya singing "Only Time" soon filled the room. Talk about hurting the one you love. Sage Thyme yelled from the kitchen that other members of Save the Trees just phoned and were on the way up. They wanted to hear the story about the boy who could hear bats calling. Should she mix more drinks? Where was the bag of Pirates Booty? All in all I didn't think Mar-Mar would miss me. Benny, Louis, and I slipped out without provoking tears.

A whole vampire club scene exists in New York City, but I usually avoid it like the plague. Just because they are vampires doesn't mean I have anything in common with the men who hang out there, besides the whole bloodl.u.s.t thing. They're almost all party animals, getting drunk or high, following their favorite music groups, and competing for the best-looking women. I've never met even one who wanted to discuss books or stroll through a museum. Their idea of culture is movies and television, the latest drinks, and the fastest new cars-and lurking in the background is always the quest for their next bite. That's exactly what I don't want to be around. And to tell the truth, it wasn't even nine o'clock and I was feeling totally down, missing Darius.

We had no sooner climbed into the Lincoln Town Car that arrived to take us back to the city, when I made up my mind to call him from my cell phone. I knew it was unwise, having read that best seller, The Rules The Rules, a while ago to see if anything had changed in two hundred years. It hadn't: Men still want women who are hard to get. The worst thing a woman can do is act needy, pushy, aggressive, in control, outspoken-or honest. And I was about to break one of the top ten rules: Don't Call Him and Rarely Return His Calls.

All day my thoughts about my relations.h.i.+p with Darius had been bouncing back and forth in my brain like a Ping-Pong ball: He didn't ask what I was doing on Sat.u.r.day night. On the other hand, he had already dozed off when I left him the night before. Then again, he could have called. He didn't, and I checked both my cell and home phone messages every hour on the hour. Conversely, I had to factor in that he was a spy in the middle of a dangerous mission. Maybe he didn't have time for social calls. Unfortunately the bottom line was inescapable: If he cared about me at all, he would have wanted to know if I got home okay, if it was as good for me as it was for him, and if I was free to see him again. It wasn't a good sign that he hadn't phoned the minute he woke up.

Canceling out the bottom line, however, was the fact that I had stayed celibate for nearly two hundred years. I was now in hormonal overdrive and deaf to reason. My rationale for making the call, not that it really mattered, was that Darius and I needed to talk about our next move with Bonaventure.

I turned to Benny and Louis. "You guys mind if I give somebody a jingle? See if he can meet us?" I said.

"Why would we mind, sugar?" Benny asked.

"He's not one of us," I said. "He doesn't know about us. If that's going to be a problem, let me know."

Benny looked at Louis. "Doesn't bother me," he said.

"You go right ahead, Daphy. We'd love to meet him," she said, as Louis put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze.

I was taking a h.e.l.l of a chance. If Darius was a vampire slayer, I could be endangering all our lives. But my thinking was being short-circuited by my s.e.x drive, by being alone on a date night, and by the fact that the later it got in the evening, the greater my desires grew. Once again I feared the ancient yearnings within me would always batter my soul, putting my high-minded resolves at war with my base instincts, driving me with hungers that originated far back in misty time, when wolves howled on the Russian steppes and the Gypsy wagons of Romany moved restlessly across the land, traveling south to warmer climes and camping outside our city, on the Roman plains.

I sat in the jump seat of that Lincoln with the cell phone in my hand, ready to make the call. Instead I looked out the window at the darkness and remembered how it all began for me.

Centuries ago, with the ground mist swirling around my slim ankles, the full moon rising, I received that fateful bite in the arms of a Gypsy king. Poor Mar-Mar, she had tried to protect me for so long. Perhaps if that caravan hadn't camped so near our palace, if I hadn't been merely eighteen with my hormones raging, and if I hadn't seen Florin, his s.h.i.+rt open to the waist, a bandanna around his neck, standing there in the shadows holding the reins of his gray pony, perhaps it would not have happened at all.

I had been picking flowers there at the edge of the woods. My arms were filled with trailing blossoms. I tarried later than was prudent. In truth, I had seen him there before and had come looking for him. From the moment I had stepped into the meadow I knew he was there waiting, and I moved self-consciously. I bent down amidst b.u.t.tercups and daisies until my dress became damp at the hem from the gra.s.s. The skirt pulled against my legs as I moved, outlining my young body. I kept bending and plucking the flowers as the twilight lengthened. I felt no fear at all. All the while I was gathering the blooms, he was smiling as he watched me, and when I finally straightened up and stared back at him, he beckoned for me to come. Me, foolish girl, so curious and so attracted to those dark devil eyes, walked into the shadows. He took my hand and boosted me up onto the back of his pony. Then he led me off. My flowers were soon crushed beneath me in the bed of my d.a.m.nation. I have often thought that if I had chosen another path that day, perhaps my life would have been different. Or perhaps that meeting had been my escapable fate, writ somewhere on my soul by a ghostly hand.

Weak and pale after that long night, nearly dead from loss of blood, I awoke in my own bed, Mar-Mar weeping in a chair nearby. She called in doctors and chanted every spell she knew. They applied poultices and plasters, and still I raved with delirium. My fevered dreams were hideous, fantastical, and erotic. I remember them still. And I remember crying out over and over for my lover, screaming his name until my voice was a mere rasping croak. I called to him even when no sound came from my bloodless lips.

Florin returned for me again that night, landing on my window and hissing at Mar-Mar that she knew it was already too late. My sunken eyes looked up at him as if he were a G.o.d. I rose from the bed, my white nightgown billowing out behind me like a fairy's wings, and I went to him despite Mar-Mar's desperate pleas. He gathered me in his arms and we flew away to a fog-shrouded wagon sitting under the tall larch trees. All too soon my white gown was stained with red and the deed irrevocably done.

I shook myself out of my reveries, looked at the cell phone again and dialed Darius's number. He answered on the first ring.

"Darius?" I said, "It's Daphne."

"Hey," he said, his voice soft and low.

"Hey, you, too. You busy?"

"No, I just finished up. Tell you about it later. I was just going to call you."

"Yeah, sure you were."

"No, really. I couldn't stop thinking about you."

I felt annoyance that he thought I'd believe him so easily. If he were thinking about me so much, he would have called me. "Whatever," I said, disgust clear in my voice. I nearly hung up right then, but my libido kept me from pus.h.i.+ng the disconnect b.u.t.ton.

He must have heard me loud and clear, because he was almost pleading when he said, "Daphne, honest, I was in a location where I didn't have reception on my cell phone since before dawn this morning. I really wanted to talk with you. Can we get together tonight? I have some things to run by you."

"That's why I called you," I said. "I think we need to get our plans straight." I knew I was lying. A business meeting wasn't at all what I had in mind for a Sat.u.r.day date with Darius. I kept talking: "I'm with some friends headed back into the city from Westchester. You want to meet us? Hang on a minute." I hit the mute b.u.t.ton and interrupted Benny and Louis's conversation about foreign films, specifically whether Fellini's Nights of Cabiria Nights of Cabiria was better than Truffaut's was better than Truffaut's The Four Hundred Blows The Four Hundred Blows. "Look, a vampire club is out for me," I said to them. "Do you mind hanging out for a while at the Library Bar at the Hudson Hotel? It's on West Fifty-eighth Street."

Benny said, "Whatever you want; it's fine with us."

I told Darius and approximated the time when we'd get there, then clicked off.