a party,’ Lucy said, checking out her reflection in the side window, pulling her top straight, fussing with her hair to try to vaguely tame it. The people she’d seen staggering away from the party had been in finery, and here she was in blood-stained jeans and a scruffy top.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Adam said. ‘You look fine. You ready?’
‘Not even a little.’
He knocked on the heavy door.
They waited in awkward silence, Lucy wondering what hell might await them on the other side of the door. She was halfway to talking herself out of the whole thing when the door finally swung open, revealing the young girl who Lucy had seen dead by the upstairs bed only a few hours earlier.
‘Yay,’ Missy said, clapping her hands together in a joy that was not exactly what Lucy had expected. ‘You made it. Do come inside.’
Missy’s childlike frame was clothed in a Lycra bodysuit, with robes far too big for her draped over them. She didn’t look remotely displeased or surprised at their appearance.
‘Good evening, Missy,’ Adam said. ‘I guess my invitation got lost in the post?’
Missy’s smile wavered for a second, long enough for Lucy to wonder whether vampires and witches used the post office like everyone else.
‘Nonsense,’ Missy said. ‘You’ve always been on the path to come here, both of you. Come on, the party’s barely started.’
As they stepped inside, the volume doubled instantly. The vibe inside was like a carnival, albeit one permanently set on the edge of hysteria. There must have been hundreds of people in there, pressed against each other in groups, most engaged in wildly animated conversation, the gists of which were lost in the music's wake.
‘Stay with me,’ Adam said in a voice low enough not to carry further than her ears.
‘I have no intention of wandering off,’ Lucy replied.
‘Please,’ Missy said, pushing between them, her head barely up to Lucy’s chest. ‘Do make yourselves at home. There are drinks in the kitchen, and Adam, there’s some fine O Neg — responsibly sourced, of course — in the cloakroom. The night’s entertainment isn’t for an hour, so please mingle and mix.’
Missy moved off effortlessly through the throng, chatting with others as she went. The shy, odd little girl Lucy had met was gone — this new version was deeply unsettling, an adult hostess in a child’s body, a body Lucy had seen decomposing.
Adam manoeuvred them through the crowd. Most of the people there seemed like ordinary people, mostly moneyed, all with the same manic intoxication she’d seen on the couple in the street an hour earlier.
‘I wouldn’t try the punch,’ Adam said, eyeing up the people as they moved out of his way, wide-eyed.
‘Less punch than potion,’ Lucy agreed.
Taking up a position at the far end of the drawing room, they leaned against the wall. There was no sign of Elle, yet, nor of Marcus or the brothers Bloom.
They watched in silence as guests ground seemingly without joy against each other in a rough approximation of the music’s rhythm, pained expressions on their faces. After a few minutes of watching, Lucy thought she could split the room into three groups; witches, their power clear, their enjoyment controlled but evident; vampires, all glowering looks and reserve, staring around at each other with much the same look as Adam currently wore; and humans, seemingly here for the entertainment of the other two groups.
The house seemed different from the previous occasions when she’d been here. It certainly seemed bigger. This wide kitchen area hadn’t seemed big enough to hold the hundred or more inside it now, and there were double doors at the end when there had been an ordinary one. Magic, no doubt, but it span her head.
The vampires were spread out across the room, not interacting with each other. They had the look of security dispersed through a large crowd, watching everyone without partaking. She suspected the blood on offer had yet to be touched. And yet, their presence seemed not to upset anyone.
‘Vampires and witches,’ Adam said. ‘Never easy bedfellows. Although… well.’
‘You guys don’t get together and swap stories about eternal life?’
He considered his response. ‘There have been times throughout history when there has been a certain political expediency in being allied. But it never lasts and rarely ends well. Witches look down at us. They have power, undeniable power. They see us as what we are, diseased. We look at them as tricksters. Liars. There is no honesty in anything they do, as we have seen. Normally, we stay as clear of each other as we can.’
‘What about you and Elle?’ Lucy asked.
‘York is an old city, and a centre of power for the witches, as well as a natural place for ourselves. We are often drawn to these older cities. They have a familiarity to them. Many of us own property in old cities.’
‘How long have you owned your house?’
He laughed. ‘I built it. Not with my own hands, perhaps, but my funds paid for the entire street. And the street next to it.’
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘You must be loaded?’
‘Maybe if I’d kept hold of some more, yes.’
‘You sold them?’
He shrugged. ‘Over the years.’
They watched a bit more in silence.
Several vampires were watching, Lucy realised. They were subtle about it, and if Adam had noticed, he wasn’t letting on, but there were looks and glances that spoke a thousand angry words. They hated Adam, his own people. And they really hated her.
Occasionally, a human would engage a vampire in conversation. The vampire would dissolve into an effortless charm for a few moments until the human drifted away, then resume their stoic pose. It made Lucy wonder how much of Adam’s easy way with her was a mannered performance. Was everything?
‘Adam,’ said a smooth voice, and out of nowhere, Marcus was there, a glass of what Lucy thought was red wine in his hand. He shifted slightly, and she saw it was actually blood. Her stomach turned.
‘Marcus,’ Adam said.
‘And your friend. You are quite the resilient one, aren’t you?’
She shrugged, trying to look nonchalant but actually trying to shake the crawling sensation working its way up her spine. ‘I try my best.’
Marcus laughed a hollow laugh, the epitome of forced politeness. ‘I have to say, we weren’t expecting either of you, but this is perfect. It’s about time you came back on board, Adam.’
‘I’ve never been on board, Marcus,’ Adam growled in response, his tone sufficiently pointed to make several nearby revellers glance round with a smidge of terror on their faces.
‘Well,’ Marcus said, pointedly. ‘None of that matters.’ He took a sip from his glass. Lucy thought she detected the vaguest smidge of regret in his voice, but before she could follow up, the sound of clinking glass brought a hush over everyone.
A small man in a tuxedo appeared at the far end of the drawing room. He held a glass aloft and peered imperiously out across the revellers until he received the absolute silence he demanded. The band stopped the music mid-note. Once satisfied, he offered an insincere smile, reminding Lucy of a greasy man in a shop trying to upsell a mobile phone package.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he began ostentatiously, allowing another beat for his majesty to sink in. ‘Welcome to this most auspicious centenary celebration. Tonight we feast on the honour of the highest among us, and bear witness to a magical becoming.’
If anyone had a clue what the hell he was talking about, they did not show it on their faces. Even the assembled vampires seemed as interested in his words as everyone else.
‘Lords and lay-folk, vampires and witches, humans and other assorted good people, may I please ask you to join us in the central hallway for the great unveiling?’
The wide double doors at the end of the room opened, and murmuring ran through the room. The humans in the crowd took it in with a joviality, while the vampires looked wary. Whatever Elle had planned for this evening; it was as much news to them as it was to anyone else.
Tricksters; liars — that was what Adam had said. The churning in her stomach told her that was probably right.
Slowly, they shuffled into the main hall. The grand staircase was bedecked in candles up and down the bannisters, and the ornate curtains were daubed in strange symbols with what looked a lot like blood. Not a great look, but it got everyone’s attention.
‘Isn’t this fun?’ a blond woman said next to them. She pulled awkwardly at the hem of the cocktail dress that hadn’t fit her for years and looked up at her partner for reassurance. ‘It’s like that murder mystery evening we went to, isn’t it?’
Her husband stared up at the staircase, mouth agape, there but not there. Whatever magic Elle had worked on her party guests, it seemed to affect each differently.
‘Marcus,’ Adam said. ‘What the hell is going on here?’
Marcus shrugged. ‘It’s Missy’s party,’ he said. ‘We’ve been working on her present.’
‘Why?’ Adam asked, the word coming with a little more force.
‘Honestly,’ Marcus said, a look of confusion on his face. ‘I’m not sure. She said we were working for a common cause. She told us the plan. I’m sure she did. I can’t quite…’
‘We should get out of here,’ Adam said to Lucy in a low growl.
Before they could make a move, however, the little announcer appeared at the bottom of the stairs, four stairs up and barely visible above the others. He tapped his glass again, unnecessarily since he already had everyone’s rapt attention. ‘Thank you, everyone. And may I please introduce you to her Ladyship, the High Priestess, Baroness Elizabeth Grenier.’
To scattered applause and the sound of the band striking up a fresh note, Elle appeared at the top of the stairs. Her beauty radiated — there seemed to be an actual halo coming off her, although that could be the candlelight refracting off the sequins in her silver dress. Whatever the cause, it was positively dazzling.
Instead of cheering for the grand revelation of their hostess, most of the crowd murmured and chattered with an air of awe. The vampires stared forward with the same statuesque demeanour Adam wore next to her.
‘Good evening, honoured guests,’ Elle said, her voice amplified by some unseen microphone of possible witchy trickery. ‘And thank you for being here on this most auspicious of evenings. I’m sure a lot of you are wondering what this gathering is about. Some of you may well be wondering how you got here. Some of you may wonder how to duck out before the speeches.’
Polite laughter rippled across the gathering, but there was unease in there, too. There was something about Elle’s manner that, for her obvious excitement, was far from welcoming.
‘Shit,’ Adam whispered, beside her.
‘What?’
‘Whatever happens, play along.’
‘Well,’ Elle said, clasping her hands together. ‘Don’t worry, there’s no need to leave, and I promise you it will be far from dull. For many of you…’ — she held her palms out, where a ball of blue light danced in an almost perfect sphere — ‘it’ll be the night of your lives.’