Midnight Soul (77 page)

She was right about that. Who owned two pairs
of sexy, seven hundred dollar, blood red evening shoes?

“Well then, maybe we’ll talk to the powers
that be and say I couldn’t make it due to possible shoe failure and
could I have another go at the next Selection?”

At my words, her head whipped to face me and
she looked panicked. This freaked me out more than I was already
freaked out at the very prospect of the evening’s festivities.

“You
have
to attend
this
Selection. For you, there
is
no other Selection,” she
hissed, not angry. She was frantic.

So frantic that out of habit, even though I
didn’t understand her anxiety, I found myself soothing her. “Okay,
Mom. I’ll work these shoes. It’ll be all right.”

She took in a deep breath and turned again to
face the hall. So did I.

That proved it. She’d been beside herself
with glee, and strangely, nerves when I got my invitation. Not
because everyone in my entire family thought I’d never get an
invitation to A Selection (and I’d been hoping, since I found out
who my family was and what they did, that they’d be right) but
because I’d received one to
this
Selection.

Though she’d never explained.

“Mom, is there something…?”

I didn’t finish. We were five feet away from
the door at the end of the hall. It opened. A man in evening dress
stepped out and closed it behind him.

I stared at him in shock.

He had to be seven feet all, very thin, his
head shiny and bald. He had a heavy, protruding forehead, no
eyebrows, big, dark eyes, and long, long limbs that matched his
height. His hands were incredibly long and thin, longer than even
his body demanded, with slender fingers and knobby knuckles.

Although he was an unusual looking man, he
was somehow alluring, even handsome.

His eyes went directly to my mother and he
smiled with genuine warmth. He had beautiful, white, strong, even
teeth.

Oh my God. Was this what vampires looked
like?

At the sight of him, my step had stuttered.
My mother put her hand on my elbow to propel us forward the last
few feet to stop in front of him.

“Avery,” she greeted and smiled up at
him.

“Lydia.” He took her hand, bent low, and
brushed it against his lips. “It’s always a pleasure,” he went on
after dropping her hand. “I hear our Lana is faring well.”

He knew my sister, Lana. And he knew she was
faring well.

This was true. Lana had been to her Selection
three years ago. She’d been selected, according to my mother,
within minutes of arrival. She’d done very well for the Buchanans;
a vampire of some status had chosen her. She was still in her
Arrangement with the vampire who selected her without any hint
she’d be released.

This was unusual. I’d been told after I
received my invitation which heralded the time new secrets could be
shared that Arrangements lasted on average two to three years
before the vampire released his or her concubine and moved on. Any
Arrangement that lasted longer than that was known to be
particularly successful.

The Buchanan women for five hundred years had
made a habit of such accomplishments. My mother’s Arrangement had
lasted seven years. She was practically a legend. At least that was
what my Aunt Millicent told me with some envy. Her Arrangement had
lasted four and three quarter years. The “and three quarters” was a
very important addition to Aunt Millicent.

I’d never met Lana’s vampire. As an
Uninitiated, I wasn’t allowed. I didn’t even know his name. I had
seen Lana countless times since her Selection. She was ecstatically
happy though she couldn’t tell me why. It was still plain to see
she was.

“And this is Leah,” Avery said, his words
low, giving me the strange impression there was some meaning to
them outside of the fact that I was, indeed, Leah.

He’d taken me out of my thoughts and my eyes
focused on him to see he was studying me and had his large hand
extended toward me, palm up.

My mother nudged me.

I put my hand in his and he brought it up,
brushed his lips against it, and then his grip tightened. He didn’t
let go as he looked in my eyes.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting
you
.”

Again, there was more meaning to this. More
than me being a Buchanan, the first concubine family that put their
name to the Immortal and Mortal Agreement five hundred years ago.
More than me being the Legendary Lydia’s daughter. More than just
common courtesy.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice soft and
not my own mainly because he was freaking me out even more.

He smiled at me, dropped my hand, and looked
at my mother. “Lucien will be very pleased.”

My mother dipped her head down and looked at
Avery under her lashes before she murmured, “I hope so.”

What was this? Who was Lucien and why would
he be pleased?

“Who’s…?” I started but Avery’s long arm
swept out, cutting off my question.

He caught both me and my mother in its length
and turned. He opened the wide heavy door with no apparent effort
and gently led us through.

I blinked at the sudden light.

“Lydia Buchanan, Distinguished!” Avery
bellowed from behind us. “And Leah Buchanan, Uninitiated!”

The soft murmur of party conversation
suddenly silenced at his words. Everyone turned to stare.

I stared back.

There was a lot to stare at. Too much. I
couldn’t take it all in.

The room was oval. It was opulent. I’d never
seen anything like its simple finery.

Rich blood red walls, again with the white
cornices and ceilings, no windows as we were well below the earth’s
surface. No paintings, no mirrors, just lots and lots of deep blood
red. An enormous oval chandelier illuminated the room, its millions
of crystals dancing prisms of light everywhere. There was a plush,
blood red, oval carpet on the floor that didn’t reach the edges of
the room and you could see the dark, gleaming wood at the
sides.

There were people there, maybe a hundred,
maybe more. Even with that many people the room was far from filled
it was so large. Everyone was wearing black, like my mother. The
men in black evening dress with sparkling white shirts. The
distinguished ex-concubines (or mothers, aunts or grandmothers of
the Uninitiated) in glamorous black gowns. The female vampires,
appearing much younger than the males but no less elegant, also in
black gowns.

There were maybe only a dozen women wearing
blood red gowns amongst the group and I noticed that my gown was
different.

This, I realized instantly, was a tactical
error on my part. Even though I was one in only a few who wore
blood red, I was going to stand out.

I didn’t want to stand out. I didn’t want to
be selected.

Damn it all to hell.

I’d put my foot down about the gown. Not that
my mother wanted me to wear what some of the other Uninitiated were
wearing. However she’d wanted a little more dazzle, which I thought
would bring unwanted attention to myself, not to mention, I wasn’t
a dazzle type of person.

The others had gone full-on dazzle.
Unbelievable amounts of jewels at their necks, wrists, ears,
elaborate up-dos with sparkling gems affixed in their hair. Eye
catching dresses from wide-skirted, Southern-Belle-on-a-rampage to
daringly displayed skin (mostly cleavage and lots of it) to
sequined affairs that probably weighed half a ton.

Every single dress, every single jewel, every
twisted curl pinned high up on someone’s head screamed
pick
me
!

My dress was satin, snug-fitting at the
bodice, waist, and hips. It had a long skirt that was cut on the
bias and hung beautifully when I was still and swirled softly
around my legs with any movement. The dress bared my shoulders, had
an empire waist, subtle cleavage where the material covered my
breasts under which it was stitched in gathers to the waistline.
The same at the back under my shoulder blades, exposing skin at my
back, around my shoulders, at my cleavage, but nothing too
bold.

I wore only the Buchanan family’s ancient,
hand-me-down earrings that had an oval ruby surrounded by diamonds
set at the base, a larger teardrop ruby dropped from it. I also
wore a much larger oval ruby surrounded by diamonds on my right
ring finger.

I’d swept my blonde hair back from my face
and fixed it in a twisted chignon at the nape of my neck. I’d done
it myself and I didn’t think I did half bad.

I looked like I was headed into a Hollywood
awards ceremony (at least this was what I told myself).

The rest of the Uninitiated looked like they
were no-date girls at a high school prom desperate to be asked to
dance.

“Crap,” I muttered so low even my mother
didn’t hear me and she would have at least given me a killing look
if she did.

Even so, I saw a few men, their eyes still
pinned to me (in fact, everyone’s eyes were still pinned to me)
smile at my word.

As my mother propelled me down the steps with
her hand again at my elbow I reminded myself that I was now amongst
vampires. Their senses were heightened to extremes. They could hear
better, see better, their senses of smell, taste, and touch were
vastly more acute, and they moved faster.

Or so I’d been told.

And, it was important to note, they didn’t
look like Avery. Not one of them did.

They also didn’t look like vampires. At least
not what popular culture led us to believe was the look of
vampires.

They were not thin and pale and wearing red
ribbons around their throats to which a cross was affixed. They
also didn’t have mullets and wear rock ‘n’ roll clothes.

They were all varying heights but none of
them were less than what you’d describe as tall. They had varying
body sizes but none of them were slight or slender, nor were they
heavy or obese—they were all muscular and powerful. They had all
different eye and hair colors.

The vampire women were the same except the
muscular part, but not the powerful part, even if this was a
perceived power rather than the physical the men displayed.

Their skin was normal-toned, denoting warmth,
humanity.

And, lastly, they were all beautiful.

As we hit the bottom step, I controlled my
urge to mutter a different, stronger, profanity.

The conversation started buzzing again, which
was a relief because it meant I’d stopped being the center of
attention. This relief was short-lived.

“Lydia.” A man, dark blond, green-eyed, tall,
gorgeous, was all of a sudden close.

Wow. My first close encounter with a
vampire.

“Cosmo,” my mother whispered, her head tipped
back, that strange, slightly sad but very familiar look she usually
had in her eyes had melted away. Instead, her eyes were alight and
there was a sweet but sultry smile I’d never seen her wear on her
lips.

He bent low and kissed the hinge of her jaw.
Something about this gesture was so intimate, I turned my eyes
away.

Cosmo. I knew that name. My mother had told
me the name only days before.

My mother’s vampire.

Oh my God.

“Cosmo, I want you to meet Leah.” I heard my
mother say and I turned back.

My mother was in her sixties. She didn’t look
it, nowhere near it. But she still looked older than Cosmo who
appeared to be no more than thirty-five. She’d been in her twenties
when she’d serviced him.

He moved to me and bent in. I froze as his
lips touched the hair at my temple then his head dipped further,
and mouth at my ear, he murmured, “Leah.”

A trill raced up my spine.

It wasn’t exactly fear; it wasn’t exactly
not
fear.

Nor was it unpleasant. Not in the
slightest.

How weird.

Please
, my mind begged,
don’t let
my mother’s vampire choose me. Please, please, please. That would
be both weird and gross. Too gross. Ick!

His head moved away but his body didn’t.

I found my voice and did my utmost to turn it
cold and added (for good measure) an icy look on my face when I
returned, “Cosmo.”

In the presence of my frost, he grinned. His
grin made his beauty shoot off the charts. Therefore, I lost the
frost and stared.

He turned to my mother and stated, “The
rumors are true.”

My mother shook her head, giving me a
reproving look, but she spoke to Cosmo. “I’m afraid so.”

“I like this,” he muttered and turned to
inspect my face. His green eyes moved the length of my body then
back to my face before he continued, “Lucien will like it
better.”

I felt my body still at another reference to
the unknown Lucien. Before I could open my mouth though, my mother
spoke.

“Do you think so?” she asked hopefully.

“Oh yes,” Cosmo answered, not taking his eyes
from mine.

“Who’s…?” I began but a female vampire joined
our group.

She was tall, thin but curvy, dark curling
hair, beautiful blue eyes, and she was wearing a strapless dress
with a slit up her right leg that ended high on her hip at a
graceful drape of material.

“Finally. Leah,” she announced upon arriving
at our small group. Before anyone could say anything, she lifted a
hand and snapped her fingers.

A waiter bearing a tray of champagne flutes
appeared at our sides. Cosmo took a glass and handed it to my
mother then another, which he handed to me.

As he did this the female, her gaze on me,
begged Cosmo, “Please tell me this will be interesting.”

Cosmo, also watching me, affirmed, “This will
be interesting.”

I was losing patience.

On any day, even a good day, I didn’t tend to
have a lot of patience. But in these extraordinary circumstances I
had almost none. Therefore this wasn’t a surprise.