The Homecoming Masquerade (Girls Wearing Black: Book One)
Chapter 12
The first two hours of the Homecoming Masquerade were unsupervised. That was part of the game. It was a way the immortals could make the lowly humans show their subservience. Here were a hundred high school seniors from the richest families in the world, who were accustomed to doing whatever they wanted to do and living a life largely without consequences, yet for two hours they came together and followed the rules of a strict Victorian dance, all without any supervision.
Thorndike students were so well trained, so terrified of what the immortals might do to them, that they behaved like little puppets at their own school dance. In fifty-plus years, the unsupervised portion of the ball had always been smooth. Nicky’s confrontation with Kim was probably the least couth behavior in the history of Homecoming.
Unsupervised didn’t mean without security. There was plenty of that. Just because the Thorndike students behaved didn’t mean the rest of the world could be trusted. There were humans all over the world who were poor, who were hungry, who were desperate, who might choose to sabotage a gathering of power and privilege like Thorndike’s Homecoming. There were rival clans from other parts of the world who were jealous of the powerful American vampires and always on the lookout for a moment to strike. Plus, there was the Network to worry about. All of this made Homecoming a major security concern, and Renata spared no expense ensuring that her guests were safe.
The first line of defense was Renata’s own army of slaves. Sure, they were young and weak, but they were trained to fight to the death if necessary. Private contractors added another layer of security, monitoring the forest immediately surrounding Renata’s property and barricading all roads in a three-mile radius. Police, National Guard, and Secret Service rounded out the security detail, each group assigned specific tasks to protect the mansion and its occupants.
All of this security was necessary whenever it was known that immortals would be gathering in one place, and on this night, there were many immortals in attendance. Renata and her invited immortal guests went on a ceremonial hunt outside the mansion during the first part of Homecoming. During the third and final hour of Homecoming, Renata and her guests would come inside to join the party. In their formal dress and bejeweled masks, these immortals would step onto the dance floor with everyone else, cutting in for a dance wherever they wished. Those lucky students who got to dance with an immortal would remember the experience for life.
Nicky was guaranteed at least one dance with an immortal, as Sergio Alonzo himself came to the party to dance with the girls wearing black. Initially, the Network considered a strategy where somehow Nicky and Jill took a stab at killing Sergio right there in the ballroom, foregoing all this convoluted business of winning Coronation. But they thought better of it. As complicated and difficult as winning Coronation would be, the odds of success were far greater with that plan than with any scheme to try and kill Sergio in plain sight.
Killing a vampire was a risky, messy business. While it was true that a heavy stake to the heart or a complete decapitation would indeed take down the creatures, actually making that happen was harder than it seemed. Vampires were too fast and cunning for a single person to take them out with a sword. Every kill the Network had made was done by two or more people, and a lot of weaponry. The key was getting a few good shots in with some hefty hunting ammunition to slow them down. The most successful vampire hunter in the Network, Elliott Toffler, had made all his kills as part of a team of ten, where they first trapped the creature, then filled it with lead, and only then, when it was too slow to get away, chopped its head off.
There was some debate though if an approach like that was even viable with Sergio. Vampires grew stronger as they aged, and only Daciana Samarin herself was older than Sergio.
As Nicky changed partners for the fourth time, she thought about Sergio. How many more dances until she was in his arms? How many more minutes before she was face to face with the vampire she was meant to kill?
It was nine-forty now. There was time for two more dances before the intermission. Nicky had been aiming to dance with Marshall Beaumont, but he had stepped away from her at the last minute, and she ended up with Sam Featherstone.
Sam’s mother was a Hollywood starlet and his father was a baseball player. Both of his parents had magazine-cover faces, so it had to be a disappointment to them that their son was such a plain-looking boy. Sam’s high cheekbones, boxy frame, and stringy hair were an unusual mix. When combined with his brat-like, ultra-entitled personality, it all made for an ugly kid.
“I’m hearing something about a party at the Hamilton,” Sam said shortly after the dance began.
“That’s correct,” said Nicky. “Are you coming?”
“Well, I had planned on going to Kim’s, but…”
“Hardly anyone will be at Kim’s,” said Nicky. “Jada Razor is performing at my party.”
“Really? How’d you get her?” His tone of voice was dismissive and insulting. Nicky and Jill had a lot of work to do.
Clearly, word was getting out about the party, but no one really believed yet that Nicky’s party was the one to attend. Nicky wondered how Jill was coming along with Annika Fleming, thinking about how her own work on Ryan had come unglued. If things didn’t start improving here soon, Nicky’s after-party would be a dud, and the entire mission would be in jeopardy.
She worked on Sam for the remainder of the dance, reminding him that he hated Kim just as much as everyone else, telling him that this was a once in a lifetime chance to get it right.
As she spoke with Sam, she looked at the bar, where Ryan and Kim were talking, or rather, Kim was talking and Ryan was listening.
What did Kim have on Ryan? The Network had combed every aspect of his life and found nothing. He was clean. His parents were clean. His grandparents were clean. All the Jenson wealth could be accounted for in legal transactions. No one in the family had trouble with the law or relationships with shady characters of any sort.
They had to find a way to free Ryan from Kim’s grasp or the entire plan was ruined. In a city full of rats, Ryan was meant to be the Pied Piper. He was to come on board as Nicky’s first major donor, and after he’d pledged his mega millions, others would follow. Without him, Nicky might as well run out the door right now and never come back.
Nicky tried to get a read on what Kim was saying, but between the constant turns of the waltz and the position of Kim’s wine glass, Nicky couldn’t see her lips. She looked at the other people at the bar, watching to see if someone might be eavesdropping on Kim and Ryan’s conversation, someone who could be probed for info about what Kim was saying, but it didn’t look like anyone was listening. Zoe was telling some drunken story to Xavier, waving her arms all over the place. Chelsea, Isabella, Annika, and Jenny were gathered in a circle, giggling about something. Rosalyn was walking away from the bar, a very full goblet of wine in her hand.
It occurred to Nicky that Rosalyn was walking in a straight line without the slightest lilt in her gait, which was odd, since Rosalyn had a reputation of being the class drunk. Rosalyn was one of Kim’s most devoted lackeys. If she was choosing to drink responsibly, surely it was at Kim’s behest.
She’d have to file that little oddity away for later. There were more important things than Rosalyn’s blood alcohol, and right now, the top of the list was getting a dance in with Marshall Beaumont.
Hearing the waltz move into its Trio section, Nicky pushed Sam in Marshall’s direction, determined not to let him get away this time. When the musicians hit the final bars, she was in perfect position for Marshall to turn her way and ask for the next dance.
But right as the piece ended, another couple crashed into them from behind, knocking Sam sideways, and pushing Nicky away from Marshall.
“Sorry Bud,” said the boy who had collided with Sam.
“No problem,” Sam mumbled. He bowed to Nicky and turned to the girl who had just run into him. Nicky now had no choice but to dance with
the boy from this clumsy couple. The boy was short, with sandy brown hair combed into a severe part over his left ear. He was beefy under his tux, clearly someone who worked out a lot. And he was smiling big, his eyes glassy, his cheeks flush. He was drunk as a skunk.
“What’s up, Nicky?” he said, holding his hand out for a dance.
“Hello Art.”