“What was he doing that made them criticize him?”
“When the old fixes no longer satisfied him, he sought out the extreme. The forbidden. Things that are said to leave you cursed for doing.”
“What kind of things?”
“Mixing—mixing the desires, perverting them. Not just orgies, but massacre orgies. Not just alcohol, but alcohol and opium. Not just beatings—not just murders, but dungeons where he’d torture poor souls until they were screaming for death.
“And the psychological—he’s been a student of the mind for centuries. Not happy with just having followers, but needing to pit them against each other whenever he pleases. The power to undo them all—to make them loyal to no one but him. It pleases his sick need for the ultimate power over them, but it also prevents any rebellion. If servants are always fighting each other as much as enemies, they’ll never unite to overthrow their master.”
I ask, “What do you think he’s doing now that’s different? Something’s just started that’s new—something that he’s obsessed with—something that has to do with this blue-haired girl.”
“They say nothing under the sun is new, young Simon.”
So odd to hear someone, who knows what I am and that I’ve lived through decades, call me young. Guess I am young in her eyes.
“Has to be something new—something huge—Roderick was exposing himself to hundreds of people in a bar trying to get it.”
“What?” she asks, her voice changing tone for the first time since we began talking.
“It was at an ‘80s Night. He was—”
“‘80s Night? What’s that?”
“1980s Music. It’s a night where they only play ‘80s music—some people dress up—lots of drinking—lots of dancing.”
“You young ones and your invented reasons to celebrate. But, okay—I get it. What was he exposing?”
“It was all about one girl. A girl named Ambrosia. She was trying to get away from Roderick, and he dug his fingernails into her arm in front of all these people—blood was running down her forearm. Didn’t care if police came—was going to fight me with his two goons, Carvelli and Quint, right in front of all the normals.”
“All over one girl?”
“Yes.”
“Must have wanted her pretty bad.”
“Pretty sure he had already had her.”
“Hmmm…all that trouble over a girl he’s already tasted. She must’ve had something he wanted.”
“Right, but what?”
“Edgar was talking out of his mind for two days when he first came here. Most of it made no sense. Some of it words—some of it sounds—almost none of it went together. But he kept trying to talk about what made him so sick. They were drinking some kind of new blood—some new breed is what he kept calling it. Edgar mixed it with some junk Roderick gave him and shot it in his arm. Something happened, and he thought he’d die.”
“He was alone?”
“No. He was with Roderick and the others. They were all drinking this new breed stuff, when he decided he needed to shoot it in his veins with his smack, but Roderick gave him something poisonous instead of his usual stuff. Said he cried out for them to help him, but Roderick just watched. Stood over him and watched him inch closer to death—studying him like a science experiment. Roderick said he had to see what it’d do to Edgar.”
“How’d he get away?”
“Said Roderick had some girl there—thought he was hallucinating—she had big yellow eyes and giant blue ponytails.”
“That’s her! That’s the girl—Ambrosia!”
“What? Someone really looks like that?”
“That’s her to a tee. Couldn’t be anyone else.”
“Wow, he thought he was seeing things—I did too. Who’d’ve guessed she’d be real, looking like that? Sounds like a cartoon character. Oh, well, guess that makes sense then. Edgar said Roderick was so fixed on her—for hours, that he slipped away without Roderick noticing. By the time Edgar found me, he was speaking gibberish and drooling down his chin.”
“That jerk never mentioned any of this—just told me to talk to you. He knew I was looking for info on why Roderick’s after the girl.”
“‘Course he did. Now he can say he never told you anything. All he told you was where I am—they don’t care about me anymore. No matter how loaded he gets, he’ll never slip up and admit he told you anything, because he didn’t. He got me to tell you. Sneaky junkie.”
“Well, what’d’you think all this has to do with Ambrosia? Why’d Roderick go so crazy—act so careless in public?”
“Whatever she’s got—has to be related to this new breed they’re hooked on. Maybe she makes it for them.”
“Ambrosia doesn’t seem like a dealer, Katrianna—more of a party girl.”
“Maybe she just brings them what they need to make it—maybe just one thing—one ingredient.”
“Maybe.”
“Or maybe her blood’s the sweetest thing they’ve ever tasted.”
“Doubt it. She’s pretty full of toxins from what I’ve been told. Smoking, alcohol, junk food.”
Katrianna shudders and continues, “Whatever it is—it’s the key to all of this. If what Roderick mixed with that new breed almost killed Edgar, it’s brutal. That boy’s body’s been full of every bad thing known to man. If it did that to him, it’s something powerful. Something never seen before.”
I nod.
“And if Roderick’s so interested in it that he was going to let Edgar die—losing one of his chief henchmen—just to watch what it would do to him, it could be the end of us all.”
Chapter X
Moonlight in Green
“If you think his kiss is delicious, you should taste his blood.”
Her poisoned words pass through smiling lips.
“Rather taste what drives his blood, Maxine.”
“His heart?” she looks at me with a mocking expression.
I return the stare, but not the ironic smile.
She bursts with laughter and a word, “Please!”
I look away, fidgeting roughly with my fingernails.
She continues, “Honey, he’s a vampire, and more than that, he’s a male—no more reliable than a male of your own kind, following any skirt that flickers in his sight when it passes him.”
“You’re wrong—he can love.”
“Sure, he can,” she says and my enraged pulse slows slightly. “He can love—all of us—just not any one of us.”
The last few hours have been hell with her. Her pleasant voice sneaking in ugly comments. Her teeth and nails flaring out when she doesn’t like what I have to say. Been so trying on my nerves that I begin to lose fear of enraging her.
I say, “Just because you jump from lap to lap before love can ever heat up underneath you—it doesn’t mean everyone else does it too. Not everyone’s so afraid of being scorched by love that they snuff it out before it can begin—ensuring they’ll be lonely but never burned, not realizing the loneliness is drying them up inside worse than the heat ever could.”
Tears summon to her eyes—her expression looks cracked. So bizarre. Changed so fast. Turned from a weapon to a wound.
“Oh, my God,” I say.
She shakes her head, staring at her lap. Stray tears drop onto her thighs.
I continue, “You do love—Simon—you love Simon!”
Fire burns in her eyes beneath a sheet of liquid, “Shut your pretty mouth, princess, before I make it ugly.”
I go to speak, but I see her nails in her right hand outstretched and ready. Her breaths come deep and heavy, raising her entire frame with them. I bite my tongue in hopes that I may keep it.
Still sitting, she raises her legs in front of her, bent at the knees, heels on the ground, and she drops her arms atop her kneecaps, her hands barely touching in the center. Her stare shoots at me just over the top of her hands.