Four, p.16
Four, page 16
Asrun immediately glowered and took a threatening step toward the relatively small and scrappy man in a pin-striped suit, however, the Jaeger held her back with a gentle wave of his hand. “It is good to see you again, Lord Pendragon. Come, my love, Claudia is here.”
With that Georgia and Geoffrey were left with two of the most beautiful creatures ever dropped into a dinner party. While Lady Pendragon could easily be labeled as classically beautiful, with her smooth skin, delicate bone structure, and graceful feminine curves, Lord Pendragon had a more quirky, unusual set of features, which still made many sets of eyes cast come-hither looks his way. The only thing that marred his fantastically pale face, razor-sharp cheekbones, and crystalline emerald-colored eyes was an expression firmly planted on his face that made him look like all he could smell was a flattened skunk while he was simultaneously watching his girlfriend make out with another man. He flipped a wayward wave of rich brown hair behind his ear, revealing a strange earring of what looked like an old cross made out of bone, but before Georgia could examine it further, Lord Poo-Face turned his glare toward her and Geoffrey.
“Is this some pathetic stab at attention, boy?” he growled.
“I didn’t—I couldn’t—” Geoffrey stammered.
“Hey, he didn’t know the Jaeger of all Jaegers would be here,” Georgia said, quickly moving in front of him. Lady Pendragon’s eyes actually lit up as she saw apocalyptic levels of ire brewing along her companion’s jaw.
“You,” Lord Pendragon grumbled as he eyed her again. “You can’t be here.”
“I came as Mr. Lambley’s plus one, and there is nothing to say you can’t have a human as a guest. I had an expert look it up.”
Lord Pendragon narrowed his eyes and stared at her again. Something deep within that stare kept a tally of Georgia’s distinctive light eyes, perky pointed nose and chin, and the little way she seemed to pout as she faced off with a centuries-old bloodsucker. “You . . . you can’t be here,” he said again.
Lady Pendragon wrapped an arm around his waist and eased him back. “Now, sweet Lorcan, this young lady is here with our son. We should introduce ourselves properly,” she cooed.
Lorcan snorted and waved dismissively. “I have things to attend to. We will talk later, boy,” he snarled at Geoffrey before storming off and leaving Lady Pendragon with an arm free to wrap around each of them without warning.
“It is so lovely to see you, Geoffrey!” she said as she drew them both in. “It’s been decades.”
Geoffrey nodded and politely tried to break away. “Decorum, Mother,” he said sheepishly at her public display of affection. She rolled her eyes and turned her full attention to the utterly confused girl in aqua.
“And who is this lovely creature you’ve decided to bring to our little party?” she asked.
“Mother, this is Miss Georgia Sutherland. Georgia, I’m pleased to introduce you to Lady Meenakshi Thakkar Pendragon, my mother.”
“Oh, pishposh! Call me Mina, child,” Lady Pendragon said as she swooped in and gave Georgia a hug. Although the intentions seemed warm, Georgia shivered at the embrace of the room-temperature woman. She winked as she stepped back. “Geoffrey hates how I’ve embraced twentieth-century manners in my old age, but I simply can’t abide being all stodgy.”
Georgia began to compare the beautiful, slightly exotic features of Mina to the puffy awkward ones of Geoffrey. Other than the distinctly British tones in their voices, nothing seemed similar between Mr. Lambley and his mother.
Mina broke out laughing. “Oh, our kind isn’t like yours. Each shell is different, and my dear son and I wouldn’t have anything in common on the outside,” she said.
“Can you read minds?” Georgia gasped.
Mina leaned in and whispered, “Just faces, love.” She then popped back and stretched her arms longingly toward her son. “Now please come with me, sweetie, and let’s go sit and chat. I simply must hear all about you both . . .”
“So you can only imagine what it’s like to have family members catch up after decades of being apart, right, sweetie?” Georgia asked as Gail gawked across the sofa.
“Was she the first vampire to be nice to you? Everyone you’ve described so far—” Gail started.
“Was an asshole?” Georgia laughed. “I didn’t even tell you about the foodies! Oh my god, if you ever want to feel like a hunk of meat, then try mingling with a group of undead who start describing your bouquet and the quality of your flavor.”
Gail blanched. “You mean?”
“Lady Pendragon and Mr. Lambley spent the majority of the night talking, so I wandered a bit and quickly figured out exactly why Mr. Matsuoka thought it was such a terrible idea for humans to be at vampire functions. Apparently my diet and lifestyle make me smell rather like kale according to one of the foodies.” She stopped to take a sip and watch her companion’s quivering lip. “Oh, the best part was a certain bloodsucker from Virginia that worked as a phlebotomist for a bariatric clinic. She used her job to create a tasting bar for those who prefer richer blood.”
“You mean there are certain vampires who like blood with more fat and cholesterol?” Gail asked incredulously.
“Oh, some only drink from the elderly, some only from certain ethnicities, and many love America because our blood on average is like foie gras—rich and fatty and not too heavy on the vegetable flavors. To them we are just different breeds of livestock, if you think about it.”
“I’m just imagining a vampire infiltrating the medical profession,” Gail said with a furrowed brow.
“You mean a twenty-four-hour profession where you can work nights and have access to blood?” Georgia said, laughing again. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound like anything a vampire would like. In all seriousness, most of the families have connections to hospitals and blood banks. It’s simply the easiest way to feed in an industrialized nation.”
“I just can’t imagine. Then again, before tonight I couldn’t imagine a vampire ever being anything more than a story,” Gail said in wonder. “I mean, I’ve seen some pale night owls around the hospital at night, but I’d never think—”
“Well, that’s the thing, you wouldn’t ever think about them, or even notice them if they didn’t want to be seen. Vampires secrete so many pheromones that it clouds your mind. Most people just look away and think nothing of them. I, on the other hand, seem to have a rare genetic trait that makes me react differently.”
“You mean that you can see them, right?” Gail asked.
“See? No. To me, vampires kind of stink. If I’m around too many of them, I can get a headache and nausea. In fact, after a few minutes of talking to Mr. Lambley and his mother, I started feeling so bad that I had to excuse myself to the gardens for a little fresh air . . .”
Georgia grabbed onto the railing along the deck and seriously contemplated if the wall of azaleas could conceal vomit as she tried to make the world stop spinning. One of the penguins patrolling the perimeter eyed her menacingly as she shuddered against the shrubbery.
“Evening,” she said weakly.
“Try this,” a comforting monotone voice said as a plastic flute full of tan bubbly liquid was shoved in front of her slightly green countenance. She turned to see a familiar face among the starched white shirts and sleek black suits she had seen on all the servants at the gala.
“Ren?” she said softly as she sipped on the miraculous ginger ale. “Where have you been all night?”
He pointed toward the sign marked catering before handing her a little ziplock baggie full of saltine crackers. “I had to arrange for my master’s dinner and then tend to the Jaeger delegation’s affairs. It’s a special night if the Jaeger decides to make an appearance.”
“The Jaeger? What, does he have brothers named ‘And’ and ‘Or’?” Georgia snorted as she started to return to a normal color.
“Lord Brynjulf Jagäre is the original hunter, Georgia. He founded the clan and was given the right to pass on his name.”
“You mean that he—he’s—oh,” she said as the realization slowly dawned on her. “So, how many centuries old is he?” she dared to ask.
Ren looked over her shoulder and then checked behind him before daring to speak. “He was considered old at the sacking of Rome, if that says anything. No one knows for certain, but he is feared even by the Caesars to the point where he is granted dispensations not allowed to other clan founders.”
Georgia munched on a cracker before daring to speak. “You act like I should know what that means,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Ren’s face remained calm, but he did pause to take a deep breath before replying, “The Jaeger is the one granted the right to mete justice by the Caesar and the sheriffs. If a vampire or servant breaks the four laws to the point where the transgressions are considered unforgivable . . .”
Georgia gulped. “No wonder everyone is so afraid of him. He’s the executioner, isn’t he?”
“He rarely comes to these sorts of public events, so everyone is on edge.”
“So why tonight? Mr. Lambley’s mom seemed unfazed by him. Do they have history or something?” Georgia asked. “By the way, thanks. I think the urge to hurl has passed.”
Ren nodded and dutifully took back the now-empty glass. Georgia shivered slightly as his fingers lingered just a bit longer than expected. “You’re cold,” she said as she pulled away.
Ren whisked her garbage away to a serving tray without another word. She watched him rub his hands a few times before returning. “I apologize. I’ve been handling cold packs for a while now. No one else here would notice.”
“You mean not everyone is bringing in live food?” Georgia snorted as she once more eyed the catering sign.
“How are you doing now? Should I get you another drink?”
“You’re totally changing the subject again, Ren. What are you not telling me?”
“I don’t want you passing out here,” he said without skipping a beat. “There isn’t much, but some of the other servants have a little picnic in the back for when we aren’t required. I can bring you something if you like.”
“I think somehow that all the vampires are making me woozy, especially ‘The’ and his womenfolk. I thought I was seriously going to puke on those hideous gold wedges that Xena Warrior Vampire was wearing.”
“Did you just call Lady Asrun . . . Xena?” Ren asked, barely containing a grin.
“She’s an amazon, isn’t she?”
Ren shook his head and handed her a napkin without her even having to ask. “If you need any lipstick, there is a powder room just inside the south door. And to answer your question, Lady Asrun is from much farther north than the amazons. Both Lord and Lady Jaeger are from what is modern-day Sweden.”
“But the name is German,” Georgia said. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I have a smartphone and more than a little bit of curiosity.”
“Lady Claudia is German,” Ren said.
“Oh, yeah, that’s his other woman, right—the one who scares you and tells you what to do?”
Once more Ren looked all around. He leaned in and hissed, “Be careful what you say. Their hearing is far better than ours.”
“As with our speed, sight, and strength,” a new voice said from behind. “So tell me, Ren, is this the distraction that has been keeping you from refilling my glass?”
Georgia watched as Ren moved faster than she had ever seen before—darting back toward the bar and returning with a carafe full of viscous red fluid. She turned to see a vaguely familiar figure in a well-tailored black suit with a similar bloodred shirt to the Jaeger but without the instant nausea aura surrounding him. The stranger smiled warmly to show off brilliant white teeth so straight and clean that they simply had to be the product of modern dentistry.
He didn’t even look at Ren—merely waved his arm dismissively to reveal an empty brandy snifter. Instead, his dark eyes starred unabashedly at the low swooping neckline on Georgia’s gown, but instead of taking note of the cleavage, they studied the long pulsing artery running along the side of her bare throat. Ren dutifully filled the glass, his head lowered. The stranger took a sip and waved him away without so much as a thank you. Instead, he gave a little bow and twirled his free hand toward Georgia with a gentle flourish. “Stefano DeMarco, at your service,” he said.
“Oh, so you’re the master Ren keeps talking about,” Georgia said as she smoothed her dress. “You’re a Jaeger, right?”
“I have the honor of being a direct descendant of the Jaeger, yes,” he said, still sporting his dayglow smile. “And you now serve my dear friend Geoffrey, right?”
“Yeah, he’s my boss.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Georgia, Georgia Sutherland.”
He took her hand and kissed it rather than giving it a hearty shake. “What a lovely name, Georgia.”
“That’s, um, quite an accent,” she said, cocking her head. “I’ve never heard anything quite like it.”
“It’s from the old country,” he said quickly. “I’ve traveled to many countries in my time as well.”
Georgia giggled. “I’m getting a bit Chef Boyardee meets Dracula. It’s unique.”
Stefano blinked a few times. “Never heard that before.”
“I’m sorry. When I don’t feel well, I tend to lose the filter between my brain and my mouth. Don’t mind me,” she said quickly.
The two stood in awkward silence for a while watching the various lights twinkling in the gardens. Georgia looked over to see Ren doing his best statue impression.
“I am surprised to see you again,” Stefano started.
Georgia furrowed her brow. “Again? Did I meet you before somewhere?”
“Only in passing,” he said with an accent that softened slightly.
“Oh yeah,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “You helped Mr. Lambley pick up desperate women off the Internet. I vaguely remember meeting you in the hall, right?”
“So, you are saying you’re a desperate woman then?” he fired right back.
“No, that would be my roommate, and she’s not really desperate, just adventurous. I was caught in the crossfire and ended up with the job. All’s well that ends well, I suppose.”
“And now you are here with old Geoffrey as his date? You must serve him well.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that. It’s my job to make sure he gets better, that’s all. You’re friends with Mr. Lambley, right? Why don’t you ask him why he needed an assistant so badly?”
“Geoffrey isn’t one to ask for help anymore. You have to force it upon him,” Stefano said with a sad shake of his head. “I suppose that it is for the best that he has you now.”
She motioned to the statue to his left. “Well, I wouldn’t be any use at all if it wasn’t for Ren. He’s been a lifesaver,” she said.
“He’s a Matsuoka. It’s his duty to serve. I would expect nothing less. Ren, I hope you haven’t been boring this beautiful young lady to death with all your facts and figures.” He leaned over to Georgia a little too closely. “I tune him out most of the time. He sounds like a robot, does he not?”
Georgia finally burst into a fit of giggles. “I’ll give you that,” she said. “Not to mention the normal state of being a rude know-it-all.”
It was Stefano’s turn to laugh. “Oh, good! For a moment I thought something had happened to my faithful servant.”
Ren remained impassive, watching the level in his master’s glass like a hawk. Stefano sipped a few more times before motioning again. “Get me something a little more refined, now, and do get something for the lady as well,” he said.
“Very well, master,” Ren said with yet another infuriatingly polite bow.
“So, you’re an Italian vampire in a German family with a Japanese assistant?” Georgia said as she watched Ren retreat. “That’s like the winning card in Axis powers bingo.”
Stefano cocked his head in the same infuriating manner as his ancient relatives. “I never quite thought of it that way,” he said, suddenly lost in thought. “You think I’m the enemy then?”
“I don’t know about for you, but for me, World War II was more my grandparents’ thing. Were you, you know, around for it?”
He waved his hand dismissively again. “The years all blur together. I remember it, but I try not to get in human politics. It’s like worrying about the weather—if you don’t like it, just wait a little while and it will blow over. Do you study history, then?”
Georgia shook her head. “I’ve never been too into it actually, but I suppose working with, well, you guys has given me a new interest in the past.”
“Oh, is there anything you want to know?”
“I don’t know. I never thought I’d get a chance to ask someone for a firsthand account of ancient Rome or what Abraham Lincoln sounded like. I don’t even know where to begin. Is it rude to ask a vampire their age?”
Stefano burst into a hearty laughter. Despite his genteel Eurotrash exterior, he managed to let out a ruckus of guffaws that was rather like the sound of a donkey and a hyena mating violently. He finally shook his head. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, but I wouldn’t expect half of them to even remember how long they’ve existed. The years blur after a while. Some of them wallow in the past when you could get away with munching on a few peasants without a care in the world, while others are obsessed with the latest and greatest fashion and fad. It really depends on the vampire, I suppose.”
“So do you still count your age in years or have you moved onto centuries?” Georgia asked.
Stefano smiled. “I like the way you think, Miss Georgia Sutherland. I try not to worry too much about my age. Let’s just say I’ve seen a fair amount of Europe merge together, then break apart again.”
“Well, that’s vague,” she snorted. She was distracted by the sight of a tall brunette in a silver dress standing in the window and getting her hand kissed ever so slowly by a tall, dark, and mysterious man in a delightfully anachronistic red military coat.
