“That’s a replica of the Master’s personal flag,” Pam said in answer to my pointed finger. “Eric paid an historian at LSU to research it.” Her expression made it clear she thought Eric had been gypped, big-time.
In the center of Fangtasia’s small dance floor stood an actual throne on a small dais. As I neared the throne, I decided Eric had rented it from a theater company. It looked good from thirty feet away, but up close… not so much. However, it had been freshened up with a plump red cushion for the Dark Prince’s der riere, and the dais was placed in the exact middle of a square of dark red carpet. All the tables had been covered with white or dark red cloths, and elaborate flower arrangements were in the middle of each table. I had to laugh when I examined one of the arrangements: in the explosion of red carnations and greenery were miniature coffins and full-size stakes. Eric’s sense of humor had surfaced, finally.
Instead of WDED, the all-vampire radio station, the sound system was playing some very emotional violin music that was both scratchy and bouncy. “Transylva nian music,” said Lyle, his face carefully expressionless. “Later, the DJ Duke of Death will take us for a musical journey.” Lyle looked as though he would rather eat snails.
Against one wall by the bar, I spied a small buffet for beings who ate food, and a large blood fountain for those who didn’t. The red fountain, flowing gently down several tiers of gleaming milky glass bowls, was surrounded by crystal goblets. Just a wee bit over the top.
“Golly,” I said weakly as Eric and Lyle went over to the bar.
Pam shook her head in despair. “The money we spent,” she said.
Not too surprisingly, the room was full of vampires. I recognized a few of the bloodsuckers present: Indira, Thalia, Clancy, Maxwell Lee, and Bill Compton, my ex. There were at least twenty more I had only seen once or twice, vamps who lived in Area Five under Eric’s authority. There were a few bloodsuckers I didn’t know at all, including a guy behind the bar who must be the new bartender. Fangtasia ran through bartenders pretty quickly.
There were also some creatures in the bar who were not vamps and not human, members of Louisiana ’s supernatural community. The head of Shreveport ’s werewolf pack, Colonel Flood, was sitting at a table with Calvin Norris, the leader of the small community of werepanthers who lived in and around Hot Shot, outside of Bon Temps. Colonel Flood, now retired from the air force, was sitting stiffly erect in a good suit, while Calvin was wearing his own idea of party clothes-a western shirt, new jeans, cowboy boots, and a black cowboy hat. He tipped it to me when he caught my eye, and he gave me a nod that expressed admiration. Colonel Flood’s nod was less personal but still friendly.
Eric had also invited a short, broad man who strongly reminded me of a goblin I’d met once. I was sure this male was a member of the same race. Goblins are testy and ferociously strong, and when they are angry, their touch can burn, so I decided to stay a good distance away from this one. He was deep in conversation with a very thin woman with mad eyes. She was wearing an assemblage of leaves and vines. I wasn’t going to ask.
Of course, there weren’t any fairies. Fairies are as intoxicating to vampires as sugar water is to hummingbirds.
Behind the bar was the newest member of the Fangtasia staff, a short, burly man with long, wavy dark hair. He had a prominent nose and large eyes, and he was taking everything in with an air of amusement while he moved around preparing drink orders.
“Who’s that?” I asked, nodding toward the bar. “And who are the strange vamps? Is Eric expanding?”
Pam said, “If you’re in transit on Dracula Night, the protocol is to check in at the nearest sheriff’s head-quarters and share in the celebration there. That’s why there are vampires here you haven’t met. The new bartender is Milos Griesniki, a recent immigrant from the Old Countries. He is disgusting.”
I stared at Pam. “How so?” I asked.
“A sneaker. A pryer.”
I’d never heard Pam express such a strong opinion, and I looked at the vampire with some curiosity.
“He tries to discover how much money Eric has, and how much the bar makes, and how much our little human barmaids get paid.”
“Speaking of whom, where are they?” The waitresses and the rest of the everyday staff, all vampire groupies (known in some circles as fangbangers), were usually much in evidence, dressed in filmy black and powdered almost as pale as the real vampires.
“Too dangerous for them on this night,” Pam said simply. “You will see that Indira and Clancy are serving the guests.” Indira was wearing a beautiful sari; she usually wore jeans and T-shirts, so I knew she had made an effort to dress up for the occasion. Clancy, who had rough red hair and bright green eyes, was in a suit. That was also a first. Instead of a regular tie, he wore a scarf tied into a floppy bow, and when I caught his eye, he swept his hand from his head to his pants to demand my admiration. I smiled and nodded, though truthfully I liked Clancy better in his usual tough-guy clothes and heavy boots.
Eric was buzzing from table to table. He hugged and bowed and talked like a demented thing, and I didn’t know if I found this endearing or alarming. I decided it was both. I’d definitely discovered Eric’s weak side.
I talked to Colonel Flood and Calvin for a few minutes. Colonel Flood was as polite and distant as he always was; he didn’t care much for non-Weres, and now that he had retired, he only dealt with regular people when he had to. Calvin told me that he’d put a new roof on his house himself, and invited me to go fishing with him when the weather was warmer. I smiled but didn’t commit to anything. My grandmother had loved fishing, but I was only good for two hours, tops, and then I was ready to do something else. I watched Pam doing her second-in-command job, making sure all the visiting vampires were happy, sharply admonishing the new bartender when he made a mistake with a drink order. Milos Griesniki gave her back a scowl that made me shiver. But if anyone could take care of herself, it was Pam.
Clancy, who’d been managing the club for a month, was checking every table to make sure there were clean ashtrays (some of the vampires smoked) and that all dirty glasses and other discarded items were removed promptly. When DJ Duke of Death took over, the music changed to something with a beat. Some of the vampires turned out onto the dance floor, flinging themselves around with the extreme abandon only the undead show.
Calvin and I danced a couple of times, but we were nowhere in the vampire league. Eric claimed me for a slow dance, and though he was clearly distracted by thoughts of what the night might hold-Dracula-wise-he made my toenails quiver.
“Some night,” he whispered, “there’s going to be nothing else but you and me.”
When the song was over, I had to go back to the table and have a long, cold drink. Lots of ice.
As the time drew closer to midnight, the vampires gathered around the blood fountain and filled the crystal goblets. The non-vamp guests also rose to their feet. I was standing beside the table where I’d been chatting with Calvin and Colonel Flood when Eric brought out a tabletop hand gong and began to strike it. If he’d been human, he’d have been flushed with excitement; as it was, his eyes were blazing. Eric looked both beautiful and scary, because he was so intent.
When the last reverberation had shivered into silence, Eric raised his own glass high and said, “On this most memorable of days, we stand together in awe and hope that the Lord of Darkness will honor us with his presence. O Prince, appear to us!”