Woman King

Chapter 31

I woke up early the day after the election and decided to do nothing for the first few hours. I didn't meet Josef at the studio. I didn't read my e-mail or make any telephone calls. Instead, I went downstairs in search of William, who had spent the night. I managed to lure him away from a copy of E. E. Cummings's poetry and into the shower, then back to my bed for several hours of lovemaking. Afterward, he left me lying in bed, returning a few minutes later with a cappuccino. The morning left me deeply satisfied. My body felt spent, worn out by my lover. My house felt like a home, the smell of warm espresso and sex filling the air.
Of course, given my habit of worrying, I immediately began to wonder what would happen after we married. I didn't want to leave my little house, but I was inclined to let my vampire husband stay in his home, which was better designed for his survival. Perhaps we would rent mine and keep it in the family until we could find a use for it. I had no idea where Josef slept; I suspected it might be inside his school. Perhaps he would enjoy living here. There would be no children to inherit my home—not unless a miracle of
science occurred.
It seemed best not to dwell on those kinds of details. There was no assurance I would have had either longevity or a child with a human man, so I counted my blessings for having found someone to love, someone who returned my feelings.
I said good-bye to William around noon and went directly upstairs to throw on my workout gear and take a leisurely run to Ocean Beach. At the shoreline, I lingered briefly, despite the cold, to stretch under a clear, blue sky.
When I got home, I returned the phone calls and e-mails that had been piling up all day. I spoke with Levi several times, helping tie up loose ends and organize next steps. Patrick and Maggie were his staff members now, and I was eager to give them the bulk of the responsibility to arrange his move to Congress.
Fortunately, Levi had been a member of the House of Representatives once already, so his transition was not as disorganized as it might have been for a genuine freshman. When I hung up the phone for the last time early that evening, I felt confident that things would go smoothly.
My work concluded, I drew a bath and gave myself a facial, listening to a new playlist I'd made on my iPod. Without the pressures of a campaign, I was free to indulge in the little rituals that women enjoy, scrubbing and buffing until the skin on my body felt smooth and taut. Slowly, I began to feel human again. I dressed, pulling on a pair of wool capris, along with a sequined tank top and leopard-print ballet flats. I planned to wear a wool peacoat over my clothing to stay warm during the walk to The Moss Room, where Gabriel had arranged for our celebration.
Lily showed up at my house at six, about an hour before we had to leave. She walked through the door wearing a similar outfit, but her pants were wide-legged and silk, a fitting style for a woman of her height. She sailed into my living room all smiles, and it didn't take much for me to guess why she felt elated.
"Watch out—I think he bites," I said, adding no
further explanation.
"Nothing I can't manage," Lily said confidently.
I opened a delicious bottle of white Bordeaux I'd picked up at a wine store nearby and poured us each a glass, hoping to talk to Lily about something that had been on my mind.
"What is it?" She asked, noticing I'd grown quiet.
"We spend so much time talking about the Council and William, but we never really talk about you."
"Me? You did ask about me the night I met Elsa," she said.
"I didn't really ask," I said. "I made some flip remarks."
Lily smiled. "Don't be too hard on yourself. You were given quite a shock that night."
"True," I said, nodding in agreement. "At that moment, all I could think was that everything I thought I knew was false. That maybe you'd never been my friend, not in the way I'd imagined."
"And now?"
"I guess I'm just curious about your life. Are you my age or older? Do you like being a fairy? Are you happy?"
Lily grabbed my hand and held it. "Things get confusing when you live in the world of Others," she said. "Let me put your mind at ease."
"No, don't you see? That's what I want to do. I want to put your mind at ease. Let me make you happy. Let me do you a favor, or find a book that you'd like to read."
Lily's eyes grew wide. "Are you worried that I'm unhappy?"
"I'm worried that I don't really know anything about your feelings. I've been too preoccupied with my own saga to ask, and you never seem to offer up a single complaint or regret that would distract me from my own woes."
"Fairies don't complain," she said. "We don't live our lives in a state of expectation. We don't experience disappointment, at least not the way humans do. But since you asked, let me try to answer your questions.
"I am aging, but not quite as fast as you," she continued. "If I'm lucky, I will live to be about a hundred and fifty years old, which means I will start to show signs of aging a little later that most human females. In my heart, I feel like I'm living the same life as you, that of a thirty-something woman. I can even have babies, just like humans. Fairies carry them for about ten months, give or take.
"As for happiness, that's more difficult to answer. Fairies are born with one purpose: service to others. We don't wonder what to do when we grow up. We don't rebel against our parents and ask for a different occupation. It's just not in our DNA. We were born to help move the world forward. Some fairies help the salmon move upstream; others remind bears when to hibernate. Others are police officers or librarians. We are a part of the fabric of nature, a critical piece of the framework of humanity."
"Fairies remind bears to hibernate?" I said, inexplicably fixated on that detail.
"They are very absent minded creatures," she said.
"Are there fairies on the Council?" I asked.
"There might have been a few over the years, but it's probably a rare occurrence. We help people regardless. Our work comes with no political purpose or ideology attached."
"Is our friendship out of duty or . . ." I wanted to say love, but I was too nervous to give what I felt a name.
"Maybe it's out of character for a fairy to be friends with a human, but what we have is real," Lily said. "You're not a project; you're my friend. My best friend."
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Feeling confident, I decided to bring up my engagement.
"I'm hoping to leave for Paris in a few days," I said casually. "My mother is having a show, and she invited me to come and visit. I'm bringing William to meet her."
Lily smiled wistfully. "I would love to visit Paris; it's so romantic," she said. "Maybe I should take some vacation days and join you."
"I wish you would," I said. "It will make it easier for you to be the maid of honor at my wedding."
"Oh my," Lily said. "Married. Olivia, that's a big commitment."
It wasn't the kind of ringing endorsement you normally get from your best friend upon hearing such news, but I wasn't surprised. I hadn't said I was marrying a pediatrician I'd been dating for three years. This was William, a vampire, a man I'd known for only a few months.
"I can sense you're worried, maybe even a little surprised."
"Both," she confirmed. "I'm happy for you. Your life was bound to be unconventional once you started work for the Council. But I'm concerned about what happens if you want out of this relationship."
"Are you saying vampires don't grant divorces?"
"That is exactly what I'm saying," Lily said.
"I doubt a piece of paper from a judge would make a difference anyway," I said. "As far as William is concerned, we're already a couple permanently. The ceremony is a formality for me."
Lily ran her finger over the rim of her wineglass, averting her eyes for a moment. She was anxious to ask me something.
"Has he asked you to drink his blood?"
"No," I said, shaking my head. "But I'd be lying if I didn't tell you I've been hoping—"
"Olivia, you want to drink his blood?" Lily asked, incredulous. "Once you do that, it will be impossible to separate from him; you'll be linked together forever. You'll carry his blood in your veins. You'll be able to feel one another's emotions, share each other's thoughts. It is an ancient kind of magic that should not be entered into lightly."
This was the second time in recent weeks that it was made clear to me that reading a vampire's thoughts was not only a skill unheard of in humans, but it was also frowned upon. I wondered what Lily would do if I told her the extent of my abilities, and then quickly I ruled out doing so. Keeping my own counsel was becoming ever more important. As much as I wanted to confide everything to her, I knew now that some things were better left unsaid.
"I didn't say I wanted to," I said sheepishly. "But I am curious. When we're together, I feel this overwhelming hunger to taste him. We both do, and I would be lying if I said I didn't wonder what it would be like."
"If I were you, I would put off making such a decision until you've spent more time with him," Lily said. "There's no rush."
True, I thought, uninterested in dwelling on the issue any longer. I maneuvered the conversation back to more pleasant topics, such as what kind of dress I should wear for the wedding ceremony, and which landmarks to visit. Our time quickly evaporated, and in short order we left to walk to the restaurant.
I hadn't been back to The Moss Room since the night I first met Gabriel. The newspapers had posted a story announcing that the restaurant was closing for a remodel, and yet somehow our French host had been able to reserve the entire space for our private dining pleasure. It was the kind of grandiose gesture he was known for. Gabriel was unselfish in his lavishness, always ensuring that others benefitted from the extravagance.
We walked down the staircase into the main dining room, which had been festooned with dozens of candles and small vases filled with tulips and peonies. Most of Gabriel's top staff people were present, but I didn't see Nikola or Zoran in the crowd.
"Bonsoir," I said, greeting Gabriel with a traditional kiss on both cheeks. Lily leaned in and gave him a kiss on one cheek, grasping his hand in one of hers for a gentle squeeze.
"Good evening, ladies," he said as a server stopped by with a tray of champagne-filled flutes.
"This all can't be for one election," I remarked, hoping that there was more to celebrate than me.
"Yes, yes, of course," Gabriel said. "We won many elections across the country. Not as many as we would have hoped for, but overall our results were positive. This also is to celebrate you, the first human ever to be employed by the Council, and for you to meet a few more of the members of the organization."
It was a version of the truth, but I knew Gabriel was once again holding something back. Invariably, these inconsistencies occurred when we were standing amid a crowd of people, with no way for me to press further. I hoped that if he traveled to Paris to see my mother's show, we would have an opportunity to talk privately about whatever it was he was hiding from me.
Not long after I took a sip of champagne, I felt William's presence. I turned as he and Josef descended the staircase. They wore black suits, narrowly tailored and made, no doubt, to order. William had paired a black tie against a crisp white shirt; Josef, a silver tie against a shirt of light gray. Chic, elegant, timeless—they were easily the two most handsome men in the room, immortal and potentially lethal.
Lily's warning played in my head, her plea to delay any efforts to bind myself to him. And yet, as I watched him tonight, I could think of little else. He looked up at me and smiled, revealing in his glance that he understood the depths of my desire. There was no separation between us, no veil of mystery that new couples enjoy. Perhaps that was why we were so eager to be married.
Elsa walked in next, followed by Aidan. They stood side by side at the bottom of the staircase, clearly inseparable. I hugged Elsa, asking her how she was doing.
"I'm fine, enjoying all of my free time now that I don't have to look after you," she said with a wink. "Aidan and I are hoping to leave on a trip shortly to Scotland."
Another marriage? I wondered, but I kept my thoughts muted.
"I'm hoping to be in Paris in the next week or so," I said. "To visit my mother."
"Your grandmother would be happy to know that," Elsa said. "When she was alive, she feared you two would always
be estranged."
I didn't reply immediately, suddenly feeling wistful at the loss of my grandmother. She had acted as a buffer between my mother and me. Her death had resulted in an almost total withdrawal from my mother's life.
"Yes, she would have," I said. "She seemed to know a lot about my future; perhaps she saw that one day we would work through our differences."
Now it was Elsa's turn to shade her response. "She did see your future quite clearly. She loved you a great deal, and, of course, she sent me to help you."
"Yes, and I will always be grateful—to her and to you."
The unsentimental Elsa I'd grown to know returned.
"I don't want your gratitude," she snapped. "I want you to use your instincts to continue to help people. What you did for Levi after that video was posted was amazing. There is no trace of the person I had to pull off the floor so many months ago."
"All thanks to you," I said. "I'll never forget what you did for me, Elsa."
"You owe me no debt."
"Maybe not," I said. "But I hope that one day, if there is anything I can do for you, you will ask."
Elsa nodded. We ended our conversation and went in search of our dinner companions. As I weaved in and out of the crowd, Gabriel picked up a knife and tapped it against his champagne flute to catch the attention of the guests.
"Everyone, please . . . If I might have your attention," he said, grinning broadly. "We are here tonight to celebrate a good season for the Council." Applause filled the room briefly before he continued. "Our election portfolio was quite good, winning a little more than half of the US races we chose to be involved in. And abroad, we helped ensure peaceful elections in several countries. All in all, it was a victory for democracy, and for religious and ethnic tolerance." More applause.
"In addition to our electoral victories, we successfully managed to integrate someone special into our ranks, a first for a human associate. I am speaking, of course, of Olivia Shepherd, our newest campaign specialist," he said, gesturing in my direction.
"As you all know, Olivia managed a win in a congressional race that was a high priority for us, despite a serious gaffe on the part of someone inside the campaign's inner circle. We're very proud of this historic alliance and look forward to assigning her even more ambitious projects."
In the spotlight, I smiled and raised my glass in salute to Gabriel.
"Thank you," I said to him, and then I pivoted in a circle to smile and nod at those who were clapping. Gabriel beamed, fixing me with a stare for a moment before informing the crowd that dinner would begin momentarily.
William was standing at my side, his arm gently draped across my back. Once my moment was over, I turned to him to see how he was faring. "OK, now I can focus on you for the rest of the evening."
"Darlin', this is your night to mingle," he said. "Besides, we'll have plenty of time alone in Paris. Do you know when you want to leave?"
"As soon as possible," I said. "I need to check the airfares. I'm sure it's outrageous unless we book ahead."
"Don't worry about the cost; it's my treat," he said. "Consider it a honeymoon gift. One among many," he said. "Just decide when you want to leave."
"Let's leave at the end of the week," I said. "That gives me a few days to pack and shop."
"I thought part of the point of visiting Paris was to shop," he said, pulling a fresh glass of champagne off a tray for me. "Pack light. We can buy all new things when you're there."
I sipped my drink and savored the bubbles as they ran down my throat, "I guess it's good to know ahead of time that my husband has an extravagant side."
"All vampires are extravagant after a certain age," he said. "It makes life bearable."
When the dinner bell rang, we moved to take our seats, searching the tables for our name cards.
"Gabriel could have done the seating at Versailles," Aidan said with some exasperation as he passed us in search of his own chair. "He excels at social management."
The first course arrived, a mixture of Vietnamese-inspired rolls, hot and cold, stuffed with combinations of shrimp, pork, cilantro, and cellophane noodles. The rolls were followed by a series of clay pots that had been simmering for hours. They were filled with sauces in every color of the rainbow: yellow curry with potatoes, green curry with shrimp and green onions, red curry with chicken. Next came bowls of noodles tossed with Dungeness crab meat. Platters bearing whole steamed sea bass followed the noodles. It was a feast, paired expertly with sweetly crisp Rieslings to keep pace with the spicy food on the table. For dessert, pot de crème was offered—chocolate pudding but made the French way, with more egg yolks and cream than one person should eat. It was a decadent but satisfying way to end a rich, spicy meal.
I glanced around the room, watching people under the sway of good food and wine. Aidan's remarks about Versailles struck me as prophetic, for we seemed perfectly suited, our small band of like-minded comrades, now sated, savoring our hard-fought victories.
After the luxurious meal, we all walked out of The Moss Room at the same time, climbing the restaurant's steps in pairs and heading toward a steel gate located at what would normally have been the "backyard" of the Academy of Sciences. In the evening, the gate is unlocked so that guests can enter the restaurant when the museum is closed. We walked through the gate one by one, full of laughter and heady from multiple bottles of wine. We didn't hurry, lingering in the warmth of a good meal, made better by good company.
As we approached the street, something shiny and black caught my eye. The entire group seemed to turned its collective head in unison. There, a few hundred feet ahead, sat a row of black Lexus SUVs. Clearly, Gabriel had arranged yet another luxury for his guests.
William and I stopped for a moment to admire the front of the Academy. It was early November, but the museum had already decorated its facade with Christmas wreaths and a red bows. One of the largest natural history museums in the world, the front of the building was a mix of old and new, consisting of a set of massive glass walls affixed atop the historic stone shell of the original building, built in 1916. Steel beams run in a grid through the glass. The panels create a feeling of transparency, a fitting metaphor for the goals of an institution devoted to science and learning. Dozens of solar panels above the entryway serve as an awning in inclement weather, and provide electricity to the building.
Aidan was the first to approach the SUVs, a smile on his face as he regarded Elsa from a distance. She was trailing behind him, deep in conversation with Madeline, who'd come late to the meal. Strangely, there was no driver standing outside his vehicle—or any of them, for that matter. The absence of drivers should have made us question the arrangements, but we were too much in the afterglow of our meal to notice the details.
The moment Aidan opened his door, the car exploded.