11

McKenzie

You Don’t Know What It’s Like

“To love somebody…”

The Bee Gees croon to me as I sit at my desk that night, feet propped up, shirt unbuttoned, sipping blood wine just like Narcissa accused me of doing.

Heather went home two hours ago.

I’m pretty sure she would have stayed in that tunnel all night if I’d let her.

My day hasn’t exactly gone the way I wanted it to, but her reaction to that mildewy tunnel made my night. I can almost forget about the fallout of one of my business ventures in New York. Unfortunately, I can’t forget about the vampire summoning that I so stupidly volunteered to host here next week.

The piano playing had been my attempt to forget about that particular irritation.

Oh yeah, Vampire Rule Number Nine:

Every vampire can play a musical instrument.

It’s part of our snobbery. To be better than humans, we all have to have some musical skill. It’s old-fashioned and absolutely arrogant, but there it is. It matches the superiority my people have in general.

My people.

Who will be sending the heads of their families here in seven days.

I don’t know what this summons is about. Apparently, it’s so deplorable it can’t even be spoken about over the phone. I’d be all for a Zoom meeting, but no. This meeting has to be in person.

Listen, I have some pride in being a vampire. We’re a unique race, as a whole. We’ve turned our blood disorder into a gift, making it something of a cult with only an elite population. We’re all rich, all gorgeous, all powerful. But damn, if we aren’t some of the most entitled people in the world.

I stare at my blood wine, swirling it in the glass.

It makes me think of Heather.

How she smelled.

I shouldn’t have gotten so close to her on the piano. She didn’t need my hands under hers, and she didn’t need me breathing down her neck. She smelled of cucumber melon this afternoon. I think she’s playing around with perfumes. So adorably human. Hasn’t found a scent she likes yet to call her own. Cucumber melon isn’t it. She needs something lightly floral, maybe a little citrus, something that matches her personality. Sweet. Probably like her blood would taste…

My phone buzzes, and I pick it up to see Narcissa waving at me. She’s in another Harvard sweater, this time with her hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail.

“I saw the video of Heather,” she says, eyes bright. “She loved that tunnel.”

“She’s not too hard to please,” I answer, taking a sip of my wine.

“Sure. I’ll bet you just waved off that hug she gave you, too.”

“What do you want, Cissa?”

“I heard about the summons. I won’t be able to make it. Dad’s representing our family. I wanted to know if you needed any help, though,” she says, filing her nails.

“I haven’t a clue how to do this, Cissa. Pull out the best blood wine? Buy some Cuban cigars? What am I supposed to serve these people?”

“Fancy appetizers. And I know exactly who could do it for you on such short notice.”

“If you suggest Heather,” I warn, “I may never speak to you again.”

“She’s really good at organizing things and decorating, McKenzie.”

“And what am I supposed to do about the fact that all my guests are vampires?” I ask.

“Anyone you hire for this event will be human. There aren’t any vampires who would stoop to serving food. Heather knows your house well. And she knows how to cook, and she likes doing it. Plus, you’d be able to pay her something nice without it looking like you’re bribing her for something.” She grins, her expression turning mischievous. “I saw how you two looked when you were only in a towel. Somebody was turned on, and it wasn’t just Heather.”

“Do you hear yourself?” I groan. “Damn it, Narcissa. You and I are engaged to be married, and you’re trying to throw some innocent girl at me.”

“I just want to see you happy… Kenzie…” She sings.

“She said it one time while I was filming. Once. And you’re never going to let me live it down.”

“She felt really nice in your arms, didn’t she?”

I close my eyes and rub my temples.

“You feel nice there, too, Narcissa.”

The playful smile is gone. Narcissa puts her nail file down and leans closer to the camera.

“I love how honorable you are, McKenzie,” she says softly. “I admire your fortitude and your desire to do things right. But I worry about you.” She bites her lip. “I’ve found someone I love,” she admits softly. “When Robbie holds me, I feel safe and alive and beautiful. His body meets mine. I feel like my curves fit perfectly with his solid form. Heather… She fits you.”

“I’m not interested in Heather as a romantic partner. She’s a wonderful young woman who is talented and has a vivid imagination. If this is about me hiring her for the catering job next week, I’ll do it. I know she’s good at decorating and throwing things together. She has to be. She works at a popular café where people will bite her head off if she mixes up their almond milk with whole milk. And God forbid she should forget a third shot of espresso.”

“What did she smell like today?”

“Cucumber melon.”

I say it before I have a chance to think, and I scowl at my slip.

Damn. I just gave Narcissa exactly what she wants.

“I’ll ask her about hosting my family get-together,” I grumble. “I’m sure she’ll add some unique twist to it.”

“Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow. Get some sleep. You’ve been fighting hormones all day.”

“Shut up, Cissa.”

She blows me a kiss and disappears from the screen.

I sit for several long minutes staring at a black screen.

My relationship with Narcissa is complicated.

I’m fairly certain she’s having sex with Robbie, and I’m not bothered by it. I should be, but I’m not. I want her to find happiness. I know I’m not going to be able to give her the joy she finds with him, and I’m okay with that. Our entire job, as a couple, will be to keep our vampire bloodlines alive. If she wants to have a romantic relationship with Robbie, then I get it. So long as she doesn’t get pregnant by him, I’ll let it go.

How twisted is that?

I growl and open my laptop.

I scroll through the list of all the vampire heads I’m supposed to be inviting to the meeting next week. I’m one of the heads of the Southern sector, an assembly made up of thirty family names.

Thirty family names… one of which is Devoure.

Yes, that’s a real name.

And it belongs to Derrick, one of the slimiest, nastiest, lowlife vampires I know.

This meeting is already an inconvenience. It means Narcissa’s engagement party is going to have to wait a week or so longer than planned. That gives me enough reason to be irritated. But Derrick Devoure…

One of Heather’s breathless “Oh my gosh” exclamations comes to my mind, and I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips.

The idea of Heather in the same room as Derrick makes me sick.

Big Vampire Rule Number Ten:

Vampires are the kings and queens of playing with humans like they’re blood-filled toys.

It’s true.

Goes along with Rule Number One about being drop-dead gorgeous.

Derrick looks at humans as though they are his own personal challenge to test Number Ten. He’s almost forty years old and has been through enough women to make Casanova look like a saint. He sees any human with a long pair of legs and a set of breasts as a conquest and sets to work. He fits every fictional vampire stereotype. Tall, dark, handsome, smooth as silk, with a velvet voice that can drop down into that intoxicating purr women seem to like.

And I’m going to have to host him here.

I’ve got enough money and influence to find someone besides Heather to cater this event. But I like the idea of her being in my kitchen, working in the graceful, calm way she does. Something about her presence helps me relax.

Narcissa can go on all she wants about romance, but I consider Heather to be a friend.

Developing quickly into a close friend.

I think just knowing that she’s in my house while I’m dealing with vampire aristocracy will set my nerves at ease.

Narcissa’s right. I’ll pay Heather handsomely, and maybe that will help with her grandpa’s medical bills and her schooling. I’m doing her a favor… having her help.

I’ll talk with her about it over coffee tomorrow morning.