the formal room. The man is dressed in a silk robe that likely cost more than the city budget I balanced. “Queen Malika moved our meeting to tomorrow. So we can go back to bed. Ah, Arneis. Would you like to come in for dinner?”
Serrano’s gaze spreads wide. The flash of his white teeth sends me back in time to the blinding pain when that crazed bitch sank her teeth into my neck and ripped my skin. My hand goes back to cover my neck, and I take a step back.
“You’re not getting a bite out of me.”
“Arneis,” Marechal says. “Manners.”
“It’s fine, minou,” says Gaius. “Do not fear, my brother. I only eat your sister now.”
“Gaius,” says Marechal. “Manners.”
“I’m not your brother.”
Gaius doesn’t argue with me. My sisters look disappointed that I didn’t take the ancient Roman’s olive branch. I’ve never gotten into bed with the corrupt, and I don’t plan to now.
“I have some place I need to be,” I say. “I’ll call before I come over next time.”
“Are you sure you can’t stay, Arnie?” says Cari.
She looks so much like herself, but I can feel a new strength in her. It’s unnatural.
“I’ll call you later,” I say. “There’s something I have to do.”
I hop in my car and drive out of the property. I know exactly what I have to do. There will be a gathering of vampires inside Club Toxic tonight. I’m going to get in and gather proof to expose them. But my evidence will be the light of truth, and not a photo out of context.
If I can push the vampires out of the closet, then I can clear my name. My constituents will know I’m not the deviant with unnatural lusts that gossip rag made me out to be. They’ll be able to see for themselves that there truly are things that go bump in the night. I’ll be raised back to my former glory in the eyes of the twenty-percent I need to get reelected. Hell, I might even be able to aim for higher office.
Chapter 2
“It’s much grayer than I expected,” I say as I peer down, out of the window of the luxury hotel in Tucson, Arizona. “And flat.”
Slate towers scrape the azure horizon, reminding me of the step pyramids of Egypt. Instead of the vibrant natural hues like oranges and reds and browns, these buildings are varying shadows in the night. The only hint of color is the mountain that sits off in the distance. Its carob peak is a backdrop to remind these humans that they are insignificant, temporary guests on this planet.
“What did you expect, Sanai? They still can’t figure out how my aunts and uncles built the pyramids.”
I chuckle as I turn to Fayola. Her tiny braids are coiled tightly around her head. Not a single strand has gone astray, even as she wakes to this new night, very unlike my own hair that is wild and free. My thick tufts of hair radiate from my head like the rays of the sun; rays I haven’t seen in almost two hundred years.
“I only hope the queen finishes her business quickly so we can get back to civilized society,” Fay says as she glides away from the window.
The gold bangles which cover the lengths of her arms make a tinkling sound, like a fanfare of bells announcing royalty is present. The gold accents warm her toasty brown skin. Her eyes are kohled in the way of her ancient ancestors. Her simple white sheath molds to her svelte form. Her head is high atop her long, ibis-like neck. The people here would call her a swan. She has the beauty and grace of the bird.
“Perhaps the Queen Mother will let us go on an excursion to Hollywood,” I say.
Fay’s regal features turn sour. “Why would we want to go there?”
I don’t bother to respond. Fay doesn’t like to travel anywhere outside of Orun, the hidden queendom in the heart of the Saharan desert. The seat of power of the vampire queen, Malika.
Fay balked when I had a movie projector bought in at the turn of the twentieth century. She wouldn’t go near the television box I set up fifty years ago. And she petitioned the queen about not allowing the internet inside the palace. So, I had to hoof it out into the desert with a satellite to catch up on reality TV each week.
“You look at this trip as an adventure, Sanai. When what it truly is, is