I’d been in a cemetery in years—Hazel Pellar had been cremated—but unlike what had happened with Professor Cumberland, I felt nothing from the dead here. Not even a tingle.
What did that mean?
Chapter 15
When I got back to the hotel room, I realized that I had no idea what to wear to a vampire party in a cemetery.
Beau had implied that the vampires who attended Promenade liked to “dress up,” but I didn’t know if that meant fancy clothes or clothes from their various time periods. For all I knew, people wore their favorite Halloween costumes.
Normally I wouldn’t care, but I was there representing Maven, so in the end I called Maya, Beau’s daytime assistant.
“Hello, Miss Luther,” she said. I’d asked her several times to call me Lex, but it didn’t seem like I was getting through on that one. Maya took the concept of “professional” to a new level. “I trust you made it around the city with no problems?”
“Yes,” I said, wondering if that was a dig because I’d rented my own car. I decided I didn’t really care. “But I wanted to ask about the dress code for tonight.”
A pause. “Ah, yes. I can assure you that there’s an enormous range of formality. You’d be fine in jeans or a ball gown.”
“Have you gone to Promenade?”
“I’ve heard a lot about it,” Maya replied primly. “I organize transportation for out-of-town vampires, so I can assure you I’m familiar with the dress code.”
“I wasn’t doubting your accuracy. Just curious.”
“Yes, Miss Luther. Warton will be picking you up at seven this evening. Will there be anything else?”
I chewed on my lip for a second, then asked, “Do you know much about Tallulah Finch’s wards at Oakland?”
An edge slid into her voice. “What about them?”
“Will they keep the rest of Atlanta from coming into the cemetery tonight?”
“Yes. No one will be able to see or hear any of the activity in the cemetery between sunset and sunrise. That’s standard.”
She said “standard” like she was describing the features of a new Prius. It seemed silly to think I’d be able to get any gossip out of this woman, especially over the phone, but I had to try. “What do you think happened to the Unsettled, Maya?”
There was a long pause. “I will be available at this number until seven o’clock, Miss Luther. If you have any pertinent questions after that, please contact Beau or one of his men.” And she hung up the phone.
I hadn’t packed a ball gown, so I decided to just go with jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a jacket with plenty of pockets. For Christmas, Simon and Lily had gone in together and bought me two leather forearm bracers, each with a sort of holster pocket that fit a shredder. Strapping stakes to my forearms with athletic hairbands worked fine, but these were easier to conceal under my sleeves and more comfortable for long-term wear. I hadn’t had a chance to put them on before meeting Beau last night, but they’d be perfect for Promenade.
I attached the holstered Sig Sauer to my belt, where it wouldn’t be obvious but I could easily reach it. After a moment of consideration, I picked up the sheathed knife as well. I rarely bothered to carry fighting knives—if a vampire or werewolf had already gotten inside my reach, a knife wasn’t going to do me much good—but this one was obviously special.
The Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife had been developed during World War II to be easily thrust between ribs. The fact that someone had taken the time to plate one in silver intrigued me. Beau hadn’t said anything about werewolves in Atlanta, but I’d been surprised by wolves before. Besides, even vampires would get a little itchy if they were stabbed with silver. It might work as a decent distraction.
What the hell. I attached the sheath at the small of my back, so the knife lined up with my spine. I tried sitting down in the hotel room’s desk chair, and was pleased to discover that the knife placement didn’t bother me, especially compared to a small-of-the-back sidearm holster.
As I was pulling my shirt down to hide the knife, my phone buzzed with a text. Warton was waiting out front.
The valet area at the hotel wasn’t swarmed with ghosts—there were a couple of deaths on either end of the lot, but neither was particularly gruesome. Warton was standing at parade rest in front of a sleek-looking vehicle, different from what he’d picked me up