Chapter 14
Nicky didn’t even try to strike up a conversation with Art. He was one of Kim’s little lapdogs, eager to follow her wherever she went, do her bidding, and kiss her ass. Anything Nicky said to him would be reported to Kim, so it was best not to say anything at all.
Art didn’t seem to mind.
As they made the first turn, Nicky thought about Jill’s description of Art in the briefing book.
A chip on his shoulder…a disappointment to his father…a gym rat…big muscles, but about as macho as a goldfish…
Nicky had never met Art’s father, but she had heard all about him. A notorious trophy hunter, Merv Tremblay used his extraordinary wealth to fund safaris all over the world, and brought home lots of exotic work for the taxidermist. The Tremblay mansion in Potomac was known for being a zoo of dead animals. Buffalo, elk, antelope, wild boar, rhinoceros – even an African elephant stood in the Tremblay estate, a stuffed relic of a once majestic creature, killed not because nature demanded it, but because a man thought it would be fun.
Vampire Envy. It was something the Network saw all the time with these insider types. Regular interaction with vampires made them into pathetic imitations. They couldn’t hunt humans, so they hunted rhinos. They couldn’t own slaves so they hired full-time servants and treated them like dogs. They couldn’t stay young forever but used plastic surgery to try. Some sufferers of vampire envy ran afoul of the law, thinking they should be allowed to do whatever they pleased, just like the immortals.
Some did far worse. The Network had its suspicions about Merv Tremblay and the sorts of things he did on his round-the-world hunting trips. There were places in the developing world where rich people could pay large sums of money to gain some of the privileges of an immortal, even if only for one night. A quick glance at the stamps on Merv’s passport suggested he might be frequenting such places. If he was, then Art had a truly heinous man for a father.
Nicky felt bad for Art, growing up in the Tremblay house. It was bad enough that they all were the immortals’ playthings. To have some sick immortal wannabe as your father – the poor guy was born to be rotten.
They had been dancing for two minutes now, and Art was really starting to lose his way. His feet were so far from the rhythm that Nicky tried to take the lead, eliciting the first words from Art’s mouth since the dance began.
“Stop it” he said. “The guy leads.”
He was so drunk she could have lit his breath on fire. Apparently, he wasn’t done hitting the booze either. With every turn around the ballroom floor, he was glancing over to the bar, as if he couldn’t wait to get back there at intermission and have another. Nicky tried to follow his eyes, but saw nothing of interest back there. All the girls wearing black were on the dance floor, as were most of the Renwick groupies Art liked to hang out with. The only person from Art’s group of friends who wasn’t dancing was Rosalyn. She was standing alone in limbo-land, half-way between the bar and the ballroom, cradling her unusually full goblet of wine with both hands.
“I’ll let you lead when you start leading,” Nicky said.
Art grunted and shook his head. Stupid drunk, Nicky thought.
She had fallen into the habit of looking for Marshall on the dance floor, but realized it wasn’t necessary this time. Intermission would follow this dance, so it didn’t matter how close she was to Marshall when the music stopped. She couldn’t spot him on the crowded floor anyway.
She did, however, find Ryan. He was dancing with Pauline Wabash. As they swayed in front of the band, Ryan and Nicky’s eyes met for a second. He made no effort to look away.
God, he was beautiful. It was a testament to how messed up this school was that a guy who looked like Ryan Jenson could somehow become an outcast. Now a few minutes removed from the revelation that Kim was blackmailing him, Nicky was more puzzled about Ryan than ever.
Before tonight, Nicky had convinced herself that she had Ryan all figured out. She thought the reason he had no friends was because he refused to make any. She thought he was different than the other students because he didn’t care about the popularity games, about the things that drove every interaction at school and informed the behavior of every student. Ryan didn’t care who was going to win Corornation, or how he could get an in with that person. He didn’t care about increasing his social standing, or counting the number of people above him on the popularity ladder.
Or so Nicky thought. The fact that Kim was blackmailing him made her wonder. Blackmail only works if the victim doesn’t want the information released. If Ryan didn’t care about his social status, then he wouldn’t care if some embarrassing bit of info leaked into the gossip current.
Which meant that Nicky had misjudged him, or whatever secret Kim was holding over him was bigger than school gossip. It meant Ryan did in fact care about his social standing, or, if he didn’t, Kim had found a way to make him care. She had something on him so good he wouldn’t even consider Nicky’s offer.
Whatever it was, it was a problem Nicky had to solve right away. Either she had to figure out how to free Ryan from Kim’s blackmail, or find another mega-billionaire to court. And the only kid in school whose wealth was anything close to Ryan’s was the doofus she was dancing with now.
Nicky and Art started their third lap of the ballroom. As they made the turn, Nicky’s eyes, which had been on Ryan this whole time, caught sight of Rosalyn. Her face, hidden behind a gaudy golden mask in the shape of a butterfly, became visible over Ryan’s shoulder, and gave Nicky pause.
Rosalyn had been looking right at her.
What in the world was up with that girl? Rosalyn had been standing there the entire dance, just holding onto her wine.
Her totally full glass of wine, from which she, the class lush, hadn’t taken a single sip.
As they rounded the bend on the other side of the ballroom, coming towards Rosalyn, Art’s steps fell out of rhythm again. And he wasn’t letting Nicky turn. It was a waltz. They were supposed to turn. But Art, who had been dancing correctly just a few steps ago, was now moving in a very non-dancelike motion. He was pushing Nicky in a straight line going backwards.
Even as her back was turned, Nicky saw the whole thing come together in her mind. Art Tremblay had come out of nowhere at the end of the last dance and pushed Marshall out of the way, forcing Nicky to be his partner. Rosalyn had ordered a full goblet of wine at the beginning of this dance, and then held it in place as she hovered near the dance floor. It was the final dance before intermission, meaning there would be no time to arrange an outfit change before the immortals hit the floor.
The grandfather clock, the orchestra, Ryan and Pauline, the bar – Nicky used all of these to orient herself and get ready for what was coming. Art intended to push her into Rosalyn. Sure enough, as they got closer, he leaned in and tried to put his hands on her shoulders. Nicky grabbed tightly onto his wrists. She found it all to be surprisingly easy.
Big muscles, but about as macho as a goldfish.
Allowing Art’s own momentum to do the work, Nicky leaned hard to the inside, and Art swung around behind her, crashing into Rosalyn. The wine spilled all over them both. Nicky didn’t get hit by a single drop.
“What the fuck?” Rosalyn yelled.
The music and dancing stuttered to a stop. The ballroom went silent. All eyes were on Nicky. It suddenly felt very familiar, like the opening moments of the night happening all over again.
Nicky looked around the room. When she found Kim, she smiled at her, and said two words. She directed the words right at Kim, but spoke them loud enough for everyone to hear.
“You missed.”