“Wait here,” he said with a raspy voice then limped away. His irregular footsteps made such morbid echoing sounds. The resonance halted abruptly by the door where he waited like the others for the Council to appear. The squelch of Poe’s fidgeting wet shoes and dripping clothes were the only clatter that disturbed the silence of the chamber.
I bet they’re going to make a grand entrance fit for the old, corny days, Poe thought and gritted her teeth to stop from chattering. She was freezing, and even the hundreds of chunky candles around the room didn’t warm her any. To kill time and make herself feel better, Poe stooped down to untie and re-tie her sopping laces. She vowed to never stutter again.
They stood for almost twenty minutes. Purple-mouthed Poe turned to Sainvire and said, “They’re not coming. Let’s go home.”
Sainvire looked down at her upturned face, white from the cold, and shook his head no. He smiled, however, at the verbal slip. He was surprised at how much he appreciated Poe’s full lips and expressive dark eyes. The thought of her living at the library proved a pleasant one.
Poe shut her mouth. She had referred to the library as her home. How embarrassing! He must think me a frikkin’ parasite out to eat him out of home and library.
With Poe occupied in a mushroom cloud of mortification, the sudden appearance of five ancient vampires didn’t scare her any worse. Two entered from 167
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the main door, floating their way to the wooden seats.
One fell from the high ceiling, landing gently on his feet next to his chair. Another seemed to appear from under the bench. And the last walked from behind the darkness of the room, her long limbs hugged by a flimsy Indian chiffon gown and her silver two-strap high heels clicking seductively on the floor. The statuesque immortal paused rather dramatically in front of Milfred and handed him her shimmering shawl.
“Zank you, Milfred dear,” she said tenderly with the grating accent of Zsa Zsa Gabor. She patted his cheeks fondly and resumed her hypnotic trek to the bench. Poe bit down the urge to rub her eyes. She could have sworn that the leggy blonde was wearing nothing under the gauzy green material.
As she made her way to the bench, the very attractive blonde with periwinkle blue eyes stopped before the three visitors. She ignored Maple altogether and merely glanced over Poe’s much shorter form, rudely lingering on the girl’s scar. No, the woman had eyes only for Sainvire, who returned the stare with an uplift of his black brow. Because Sainvire didn’t show any sign of backing down, the ancient vampire smiled then laughed, flicking her long tresses back. Fast as the eye could see, the blonde was leaning against Sainvire, her torrential breasts rubbing his chest while her hands tried to tilt his head down for a wet lingering kiss.
Poe and Maple could only stare open-mouthed at the two. They looked like models from old perfume ads. Poe mind-slapped Sainvire for being such a slutty vampire.
“Mono,” she muttered.
He didn’t even try to stop the vampire. In fact, he looked as though he was enjoying himself, as his arm had snaked around the woman’s narrow waist. When 168
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Poe was about to insinuate herself between the two very striking undead, Sainvire pushed the blonde away.
“Enough,” he said evenly, black blood dribbling on the side of his mouth, his own fangs sharp.
Winded, the ancient vampire staggered back then collected herself, her mouth dewy with blood from the kiss. She had a fondness for biting, especially the tongue in mid-kiss.
“I see you still have inhibitions vhen it comes to public displays of affection,” the vamp complained.
“Pity.”
With a flick of a look at Poe, the Ancient resumed her catwalk to the bench. And she really wasn’t wearing underwear. Poe could clearly see the outline of two teardrop buns.
The blonde shrugged away the disapproving looks the other councilmembers gave her and sat down on the far left of the bench.
“Don’t give me zhat look, Gruman,” she hissed while arranging herself on the chair.
“And what look would that be?” Gruman Raspair intoned. As head of the Council and the oldest in appearance among the vampires, Raspair reminded Poe of an even more fucked up Hannibal Lecter.
“The Nazi I’m-going-to-torture-you-later look,”
she said without mirth.
Gruman waved his hand in dismissal and began with the introductions. Sainvire’s tongue-mate was Gwendolyn Salam. The dark-featured man to her right was an Ancient named