“I’m almost ready to cut our guest loose right now,” Molly murmured.
“This doesn’t prove anything about her story,” Onyx countered. They glanced at one another, silently agreeing not to speak of Rachel again. Instead, they both took a deep breath and got out of the SUV. The attendants bowed, but made no approach.
As they followed Ms. Black up the steps, they shared another of their near-telepathic looks. They both felt the powerful sorcerous ward over the building when they crossed it. It would surely block out any clairvoyance or other magical perception from outside. Within their own wards, the Brotherhood would hold a significant advantage of power in any sorcerous conflict.
Neither Molly nor Onyx expected they would be allowed to attune themselves to the ward. That sort of trust wouldn’t be extended easily or quickly. The raw numbers here were more than enough of a deterrent to any trouble, but the ward redoubled the importance of subterfuge and guile as their only feasible tools here. If the ward fell, both Molly and Onyx would be able to employ much more power… but breaking it would require significant physical damage to a casting circle they couldn’t even see, or to the building itself. Even then, there were still an awful lot of potential enemies present.
As if they needed the reminder, they found Talon at the top of the steps, speaking with another pair of vampires. “I’m available to help, Lucien,” Talon offered to a thuggish vampire in an all-black suit. With him was a pale blonde woman in black slacks, a black bustier and a leather jacket.
The other vampire gave a subtle, dismissive wave. “It’s likely just college kids looking for a place to go party off in the woods. Natalia and I can handle it. We’ll just add them to the party favors. The Lady is honored that you have relocated here from the Old World. Stay and enjoy yourself.” He laid a hand on Talon’s shoulder, nodded, and then descended the steps with the blonde in tow.
Onyx and Molly shared yet another pensive, curious glance, along with the same resultant frown. They could do little but press forward. Ms. Black returned to the pair, bringing along a waiter with a tray of champagne glasses. She wasn’t surprised when they turned down the drinks. “Can I show you around, then?” she offered. “Introduce you to a few people?”
Inside, the lighting was predictably dim. Opulence reigned throughout the interior, with vaulted ceilings, handcrafted staircases, immaculate carpets, statues and other artwork everywhere. It was much more a mansion than a house.
Hushed conversations were heard from the corners. Pale figures in all manner of black or at least darkly colored costumes mingled together. Weapons were evident from a number of eras: daggers, swords, even a few black-powder pistols could be seen amid the fashion show.
“Mr. Woods,” Ms. Black called, beckoning to a dashing man in his mid-thirties. “Do you have a moment to spare?” He graciously excused himself from his conversation with a markedly pale couple in Victorian dress to join the three women. “I want you to meet a pair of prospective new members. This is Onyx and Molly.”
“Ah,” Mr. Woods smiled, offering his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, particularly in a nice, sociable environment. We’re all terribly sorry about the incident with Kenneth.”
Onyx took his hand, but only warily. “News travels that fast?”
“I had to see to his release from both the emergency room and police custody. He gave me a complete description of the two of you, though he forgot to mention how lovely you both are. He was more than a little irate, of course, but I can’t say I have any sympathy for him. He knows he should be polite whenever he’s recruiting.”
Molly also shook hands with Mr. Woods. “Might want to get a different recruiter,” she suggested with a grin.
“Oh, certainly,” Mr. Woods agreed. “Ultimately Kenneth was well out of bounds in the whole matter. Regardless, you showed both skill and discretion in response. We’d prefer chalk it up to an impressive audition and an awkward misunderstanding rather than hostility. So, by way of saying bygones on behalf of the Brotherhood, welcome to the party.”
“Some party,” Onyx noted, looking around meaningfully.
As expected, Ms. Black had understated the oddities of the party. Here and there wandered shapely young men and women in little clothing, mostly either a pair of black silk shorts for the men or tiny strapless black dresses for the women. None of them looked particularly thin, yet they were not at all out of shape. The women wore their hair up; the men had theirs cut short. None of them spoke, or even seemed to be entirely all there mentally. They lingered near the vampires, who would occasionally reach out to draw one of them close for a brief bite. Mostly they bit at the neck or the wrists, but a few of the vampires just had to be kinky about it and bite elsewhere. The seemingly mesmerized young man or woman would wait patiently, even with some degree of pleasure on his or her face, while the vampire took his or her fill. Then the well-groomed snacks moved on about the party.
The Brotherhood would not be outdone. While their numbers were notably fewer, and while their styles generally held to business casual-with one or two robed exceptions-they seemed pointedly unfazed by the undead festivities. The sorcerers showed off in their own way: an impossibly glowing trinket here, a bit of telekinesis or illusory companionship there. A couple of them even had small, almost feral red imps riding on their shoulders, who took full advantage of every hors d’ourves tray that wandered close enough for their lashing tails to reach.
“Ah. Yes. I’ll go out on a limb and guess that this is your first social experience among supernaturals in any significant numbers, yes?” Mr. Woods mused.
“You could say that,” Onyx nodded.
His friendly smile never wavered. “Then I’ll also hazard a guess that the both of you come by your youthful beauty legitimately, rather than through magic.”
“I’m right here, Woods,” Ms. Black scowled playfully, giving his arm a slap. “He’s saying I got a cheap magic facelift and boob job.”
“I’m saying you got a remarkable magic facelift and boob job, among other things,” Mr. Woods bowed with equal joviality. “But back to my point: the nightlife have a penchant for reminding themselves how far removed they are from ordinary folk. They like to feel they’re above conventional morality-can’t say I don’t sympathize there-and so they go to great lengths to reinforce that premise when among their own. Depending on how adventurous you feel, you could find any number of much more licentious scenes behind the closed doors of this mansion. Some would gladly show you around if you’re interested in that sort of thing.”
Molly frowned a bit. Inside, she suspected that she would be nothing short of appalled, but she had a cover to maintain. “I think we’ll take things a bit slow, thanks. We’re still hoping to get to know the rest of our fellow Practitioners better.”
“Of course,” Woods shrugged. “I’m just saying, bring together a gathering of people with power and knowledge beyond ordinary mortals, add in the thrills of a secret society, then provide demonstrable proof that they’re all above the law, and the result will be…” he gestured grandly with his open hand and with the one holding his champagne glass. “…us.” His smile broadened. “I am therefore reluctant to pass judgment on our hosts.”
“I find it all a bit gross, to be honest,” Ms. Black confessed in a conspiratorial tone. “There are a couple of men here I’ve met before from my other social functions. I used to think they were charming and attractive, but now that I know what I’m looking at? Ugh.”