Page 2 of Grave Throbbing
Queen Marcella leaned back, and Key felt her in his mind once more. She found his most embarrassing moments from when he'd tried and failed to enthrall humans. His bite only worked on vampires.
She closed her eyes. A moment later, there was a soft knock at the door.
"Let him in."
The guard who had killed Key's sire ushered in another vampire. He was at least a century older than Key, though far younger than Queen Marcella and her guards. Still, he had an air of power about him until his hands flitted nervously to the lace cravat at his neck. He didn't speak, but from the way he and the queen locked gazes, they held a conversation to which Key and the guards weren't privy.
"Ciarán." The older vampire's voice was surprisingly strong as he met Key's gaze. "Come with me. I'll teach you how to enthrall a human without using your bite."
Key didn't feel the usual pull of command, and a thrill went up his spine. His sire was dead. He could disobey the older vampire if he chose. Instead, he took two steps toward him.
"The humans mustn't know we exist,"Queen Marcella's voice echoed inside his head."If you and yours break that confidence, I'll have no choice but to destroy you."
Key understood the implied threat,"you and yours."QueenMarcella would kill both Key and his sister if he failed.
Outside the ballroom, the vampire assigned to help him stopped by the hotel desk to request maid service in the ballroom. Then, he addressed the vampires waiting in the lobby using only his mind. Key shuddered. He hated it when the queen had spoken to him in his head. He wondered how many vampires had the skill.
The vampire motioned Key to the shoeshine station outside the ballroom door. A young man with rich brown skin waited with a brush and a towel. Key was surprised to see coins pass between them. His sire had always tricked the humans into believing she'd paid when she'd handed them a sliver of wood or lint from her pocket.
"How rude of me," the vampire said when they were both seated. "Allow me to introduce myself. Henry Harcourt at your service." He winced, either at the formality of the words or the words themselves. "Ahem. But please call me Harley. Henry is boring, Harcourt was my mother's surname, and I've since made a name of my own."
Key held his tongue, lest he insult the vampire tasked to help him by calling him a crust, one of the upper-class Brits who had subjugated the Irish for centuries. He tried a simple introduction, instead. "I'm —"
"Ciarán O'Shea!" Harley seemed overjoyed at the news. Key had expected his usual distrust to manifest, but this vampire was far too sweet and candid to draw his usual ire. "You're newly acquitted of the crime of being sired without council permission." Harley gave him a slight bow from his seat. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
As the man worked to shine Harley's shoes, Key took the opportunity to observe Harley while he wasn't being watched in return. He was the pale white of the landed English and had the accent to match. His hair had been greased back behind his ears and then flowed past his shoulders in waves glistening with ambergris pomade. The scent was distinct, and not one Key particularly liked. Still, there was something appealing about his new mentor, especially when he studied Key with his eyes so dark brown they almost vanished into the pupils.
While he seemed to be every bit a crust, this vampire didn't have the same stillness most ancients displayed. He seemed very much alive, and Key's heart ached. He'd only been around his sire and her few friends since he was turned, but already he yearned for his old human life. Harley wasn't human, but he was the closest to it in vampire form, the closest Key had met, anyway.
A quick glance around the lobby showed vampires in various states of disinterest. They blended into the background with their boredom and inactivity. Key couldn't imagine spending an eternity pretending to be furniture, all so he could feed off an unsuspecting human.
When the man finished Harley's shoes, Harley paid him another coin and directed him to shine Key's shoes, too. Key was struck by his kindness. Key couldn't afford such a service, and the man made several unhappy sounds about how scuffed and dirty Key's shoes were.
Then, Harley led him back to the ballroom door. "Queen Marcella's cleared up the confusion over your sire's death. We should be safe to return."
The celebration was well in swing as they entered the ballroom. Harley directed him through the crowd of vampires and oblivious humans. Fortunately, no one noticed them.
"The party is in your honor, after all," Harley said as he pulled Key onto the dance floor. "We should enjoy it while we can."
Harley had brought them to the heart of the dance floor. Queen Marcella twirled with one of her guards not even two feet away. When Key tried to catch her attention, she turned so that her back was to them, and she and her partner faded into the crowd.
"She hates me," Key said.
"If she hated you, you'd be dead."
Harley was a much better dancer than Key expected. He knew all the moves, from traditional dances to the newer styles. When Key worried he wouldn't be able to follow the dance moves discontinued far before his time, Harley led him with gentle touches on his hips and movements of his chin or arm. The hours melted away while they danced. Key couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun. The rest of the room melted away, even as humans bled and died around them on the dance floor.
It was after two when Harley led him outside to the dark and mostly deserted street. The night was cold enough to see breath rising from the humans and any vampires who'd supped already. Harley's rushed out of him in a vapor cloud. Key's was weak, but no one would assume he was undead.
"It's a lovely night!" Harley greeted every human who approached them on the street. Key listened to their heartbeats for signs of agitation, and he assumed Harley did the same. They stopped to talk to a woman who didn't seem too excited or worried to see them.
"Hello there, boys. What are you doing out on such a cold night?"
"Listen carefully."Harley's voice was in his head, the same way Queen Marcella's had been."Her heart rate is calm. Her breath steady. She isn't afraid."
Key had already noticed all that, but he didn't want to argue. What happened next astounded him.
"May I scent your beautiful wrist, my lady?"
