Balthasar wore red with an amethyst-and-silver brooch at one shoulder. His bare shoulder showed just enough chest to prove he was muscular, as if there'd been any doubt. The red garment was bound at the waist with purple cords.
"You guys look like the Bobbsey Twins," I said.
Jean-Claude cleared his throat.
I stopped talking, but if everyone had such nifty clothes, I wasn't sure I could stop myself from making remarks. I mean, it was just too easy.
The Traveler threw his head back and laughed. It was a joyous laugh with an edge underneath like the hissing of snakes. He turned brown eyes to me, but down in the depths it was him. I'd have known him no matter whose eyes he was looking out of.
Balthasar was actually shorter than the new body by an inch or two. He stood close enough for the Traveler to take him under his arm, like a tall man will walk with a woman, cradled against his body, protected.
"I saved your humans today, Anita. I saved many vampires. Is that not enough for you?"
"Jean-Claude?" I made his name a question.
He let his breath out in a long sigh. "It was pointless to make you promise. Be yourself, ma petite, but try not to be too insulting." He stepped back so that we were all even with each other. Maybe he hadn't liked the symbolism either.
"I'm thrilled that you saved my friends today," I said. "I'm ecstatic that you saved all the trapped vampires. But you got a lot of good press out of it without any risk to yourself. I thought you agreed that you guys needed to modernize a little, come into the twentieth century."
"But I do agree, Anita, I do agree." The Traveler rubbed his cheek against Balthasar's face, staring at me hard enough that I was glad he wasn't heterosexual.
"Then what is this medieval shit?" I jabbed a thumb backwards at Ernie.
His eyes flicked to the man, then back to me. "I would have let it go, but the others voted and it is true that Jean-Claude has been a lax host."
Jean-Claude touched my arm. "If you had come at my invitation or even requested permission to enter my territory, I would have been more than happy to grant you hunting rights. Though you will find one of the other benefits to legality is an amazing number of willing victims. People will even pay you to quench your thirst on their bodies."
"It is an old law among us," The Traveler said, "not to feed in another's lands without their permission. I sustained the others, but then your human servant showed me that my powers were having serious side effects on your local population." He stepped away from Balthasar, coming within touching distance of Jean-Claude.
"But none of your vampires were affected. I could not steal their energy, or give them extra energy. You prevented that. That has surprised me more than anything else you have done, Jean-Claude. It smacks of a power that I would never have credited you with, not now, not a thousand years from now." He paced to stand in front of Richard. And the new body was still taller, six foot four at least.
He stood so close that the purple cloth brushed the length of Richard's body. He moved around him so closely that the cloth never stopped touching, sliding over the tailored tux like a cloth hand. "Padma has not gained such power from his joining." He ended standing between Jean-Claude and Richard. He raised a hand to stroke Richard's face, and Richard caught his wrist.
"That's enough," Richard said.
The Traveler drew his wrist slowly downward so that his hand brushed Richard's. He turned to Balthasar with a smile. "What do you think?"
"I think Jean-Claude is a lucky man," Balthasar said.
A red flush crept up Richard's face, his hands curled into fists. He was placed in the position usually reserved for women. If you deny that you're sleeping with someone, they won't believe you. The harder you deny it, the surer everyone is that you're guilty.
Richard was smarter than I was. He didn't try to deny it. He just turned and looked at the Traveler. He stared him nearly eye to eye and said, "Get away from me."
All the bad guys laughed. None of us did. Us included Gideon and Thomas, strangely enough. What were they doing with Padma? What series of events had trapped them with him? If we all survived, maybe I'd get a chance to ask them, but it was doubtful. If we killed Padma, they would probably die, too. If Padma killed us, well, there you go.
The Traveler walked over to me in a cloud of purple cloth. "Which brings us to you, Anita." His new body towered over me, over a foot taller, but hey, you get used to it.
"What?" I said, staring up at him.
He laughed again. He was so damn happy. I realized what it was -- afterglow. He and Balthasar had been polishing the family jewels.
I stared up into that smiling face and said, "Is this new body double-jointed or something, or does Balthasar just like a change of menu?"
The laughter faded from his eyes, his face, like the sun sinking below the horizon. What was left was cold and distant and nothing you could talk to.
Maybe I did talk too much.
Jean-Claude touched my shoulders and moved me back. He started to move in front of me, but I stopped him. "I pissed him off. Don't protect me from him."
Jean-Claude let me stay in front, but at some unseen signal the rest of our entourage moved up, fanning out behind us.
Yvette and Warrick came out of the hallway with Liv. "You all look good enough to eat." She laughed at her own joke. She was dressed in a simple white formal. Her bare shoulders were whiter than the cloth. As soon as I saw her, I knew she hadn't fed. Sleeves that were not attached to the dress covered her from armpit to wrist. The fitted bodice flared into a full white skirt with layers that were mirrored in the layers of the strange unattached sleeves. Her white-blond hair fell in braided loops and whorls around her face. No period costume for Yvette, only the cutting edge of fashion would do. Her makeup was just a little dark against the paper whiteness of her skin, but it was hard to get that understated look when you were so terribly drained.
Warrick wore a white suit with one of those round collars so there was no place to put a tie. It was a lovely suit that matched Yvette's dress so well, they looked like the top of a fashion wedding cake.
Yvette wore the dress like it had been made just for her. Warrick looked chokingly uncomfortable.
Liv glared at all of us impartially. She was dressed in a blue formal that was meant for a woman with softer edges and less muscle. It had been cut down or up for her, and she wore it badly.
This was the first time I'd seen Liv since I learned that she'd helped torture Sylvie. I expected to regret not having killed her when I had the chance. But there was an uncertainity in her eyes, an unease in her body, that said, maybe, she'd seen another side of the council since then. She was afraid. I was glad.
"You look like you're wearing hand-me-downs, Liv," I said. "Like someone's poor relative."
"Has the Traveler given you to Yvette as her handmaiden?" Jean-Claude asked. "Has he given you away so quickly?"
"Yvette merely helped me dress," she said, head high, but her hands were trying to smooth the dress into place. Nothing helped.
"You had much more attractive outfits in your own closet," Jean-Claude said.
"But no dresses," Yvette said. "For a formal occasion you must have dresses for the women." She smiled sweetly.
It made me regret wearing a dress. "I know what you did to Sylvie, Liv. I was regretting not blowing your head off when I did your knees. But you know what, Liv, a few years with the council and you may be regretting it too."
"I regret nothing," she said. But there was a tightness around the eyes, a flicker through those lovely eyes. Something had spooked her good and solid. Part of me wanted to know what had been done to her, but it was enough just to see how scared she was.