Chapter Eight
As Lilith hurried down to the bottom floor of her family's penthouse apartment in time for her waking meal, she was unpleasantly surprised to find her mother already waiting for her in the dining room.
"Hello, Lilith," Irina Viesczy-Todd said, glancing up from her crossword puzzle just long enough to acknowledge her daughter's arrival. Mother and child had not seen each other in six weeks, which was just fine with all concerned.
Irina held a cut-crystal goblet filled with scarlet liquid in one hand, and the mechanical pencil she used on her crossword puzzles was in the other. With her strong cheekbones and long blond hair artfully piled atop her head, Irina looked to be in her early thirties rather than the 150 years Lilith knew her to be. As Lilith drew closer, she noticed her mother was still dressed in her satin robe, which revealed far more toned and artificially tanned flesh than any daughter wanted to see.
"Hello, Mother," Lilith said sullenly.
"You needn't sound so put upon," Irina said as she sipped at her waking repast, which had been triplescreened for impurities and contaminants such as HIV, West Nile virus, and hepatitis. "What kind of mother would I be if I wasn't present for my only daughter's Grand Ball debut? By the way, while I was at the tables in Monaco, I received a letter from an old school friend of mine-Verbena Mulciber."
"You mean Madame Mulciber?" Lilith looked up, surprised. "My alchemy teacher?"
Irina nodded. "She wrote to inform me that you're on the verge of flunking out."
"It's been difficult for me to focus on schoolwork lately, what with Tanith being killed and everything,"
Lilith replied. Suddenly an undead servant in a maid's uniform appeared, took the crystal goblet from Lilith's place setting, and vanished into the kitchen to fill it with warmed blood.
"You fledglings today have no idea how easy you have it! By the time I was your age, half of my graduating class had been annihilated," Irina said, clucking her tongue in disapproval. "If I'd let my friends being killed interfere with my education, I'd still be in Russia, tapping peasants on some hell-forsaken communal farm!
Bathory Academy has one of the finest preparatory programs available anywhere for girls your age, and since your great-aunt Morella founded the school, the least you could do is not embarrass the family by getting kicked out."
Irritated by her mother's needling, Lilith countered,
"If their prep program is so good, then why did they enroll a New Blood?"
"New Blood?" Irina looked up from her crossword, her eyes darting around the room as if there might be ninjas hiding in the corners. "There is a New Blood attending Bathory?"
"Her name's Cally," Lilith said, fighting back a smile as she dangled Daddy's secret daughter in front of her unwitting mother.
"The very idea!" Irina exclaimed, her eyes flashing.
"I will have your father speak with the headmistress about this outrage. We are not paying for you to rub elbows with a bunch of ne'er-do-wells!"
"I'm glad you feel that way," Lilith said as the maid returned with the goblet full of warmed blood. She turned to glare at the servant. "Hey! What are you, stu- pid or something? Get me a straw! I don't want to screw up my lip gloss before I get to school!"
The maid jumped like she'd been stuck with a hot poker, a look of genuine alarm in her eyes. "Yes, Miss Lilith! I'm so sorry! Right this minute!"
Within seconds a straw was bobbing in the goblet. Lilith took a tentative sip. AB poz, with just a trace of anticoagulant to keep it free flowing: not a bad way to start off the night.
"There's no other way I could feel about something like that," Irina replied flatly. "However, that is no excuse for your abysmal performance at school. Your father and I expect to see significant improvement in your grades after the Grand Ball, young lady! You're spending far too much time partying and not enough studying." Irina's tone was even but firm, an unmistakable warning that she was in no mood for one of her daughter's tantrums. "Now why don't you see if Bruno has brought the car around for you, my dear?"
Lilith snatched up her book bag and headed out the door for school. As she rode the elevator down to the lobby, she began to think that maybe having Irina home for the holidays might not be that horrid after all. Imagine all the near collisions she could orchestrate between Cally and her mother! If nothing else, watching her father scramble to prevent Irina from learning his dirty little secret would be deeply satisfying. As Cally entered Madame Boucher's Avoiding Detection 101, she spotted Lilith seated in one of the desks, gossiping with Carmen. What she now knew about Carmen and Jules made her blush, and she quickly looked away. She saw Bella Maledetto sitting near the back, waving at her and pointing at the open desk across the aisle. Without thinking, Cally took an automatic step in the direction of her friend, only to remember the promise she had made to her father the night before to disconnect herself from the Maledetto family. Instead of sitting down next to Bella, Cally slid into the desk beside Annabelle Usher. She guiltily glanced over at her friend and saw a look of baffled hurt on Bella's face. Cally sighed and turned away. Tonight was the start of what would probably be a very difficult and lonely time in her life, but she told herself it was worth proving her loyalty to her father and winning his approval.
"Good evening, young ladies," Madame Boucher
said as she looked out across her class. She was a smallboned woman who appeared to be in her early fifties, her ginger-colored hair piled high atop her head in an old-fashioned beehive.
"We've studied some of the tried-and-true methods of avoiding detection, such as faking your own death and later reappearing in the same community as a younger relative, preferably a niece or granddaughter.
"Today we'll start focusing on practical camouflage and misdirection. I will be drilling you on these techniques until they become as natural to you as breathing or flying.
"When I was a schoolgirl, avoiding detection wasn't as necessary a skill as it is today. Back then, reflective surfaces were nowhere as common as they are today.
Everything was made out of wood and stone, not plate glass and stainless steel!"
The instructor motioned to an undead servant dressed in the school's livery, who pushed a dolly carrying a large, upright object covered by a drop cloth to the front of the class.
"Ladies, it is time that you get to know your enemy!"
Madame Boucher said as she yanked the cloth away, revealing a full-length cheval mirror. An audible gasp rose from the assembled students. A couple even hissed and instinctively raised their arms to shield their faces.
Since she had been raised around mirrors, Cally's reaction to the looking glass was far more muted. She glanced around and noticed that the only other student in the room who didn't seem agitated was Lilith.
"There's no need to be afraid," Madame Boucher assured her class as she stepped in front of the mirror. Or at least her clothes did. Her gray tweed skirt, white silk blouse, and maroon cardigan appeared to hang empty in midair.
"The most common form of camouflage is the creative use of clothing, in particular hooded cloaks, as well as using the humans' own numbers against them. After all, who would notice one reflection missing from the hundreds half glimpsed at any one time in the windows along Sixth Avenue?
"First, you must become familiar with your reflections so that you understand what the humans do and don't see in a mirror. How many of you have never seen yourselves in a mirror before?"
Annabelle Usher raised a trembling hand.
"Big surprise there, Usher! Not!" Lilith snickered. Annabelle was the last of a once-fabled line who had fallen on such hard times she did not have a dresser to see to her appearance before leaving the house. As a result, the poor girl usually came to school looking like a Barbie doll that had fallen into the hands of a sadistic little brother.
"Like ballet, you cannot master camouflage unless you can see what you're doing wrong. I want each and every one of you to line up and step in front of the cheval and look at yourself first full face, then profile, and then over your shoulder. And, Miss Usher, I want you to be the first in line."
The students got out of their desks and formed a single line, with Annabelle serving as its reluctant head. When she stepped up to the mirror, her gaze was firmly fixed on her shoes instead of on the silvered glass in front of her.
"Go ahead and look at yourself, Annabelle," Madame Boucher said gently. "There's nothing to fear."
Annabelle hesitantly raised her eyes, slowly tracking up her legs and torso until she reached her face. She stared for a long moment at her crudely drawn eyebrows and the clownlike splotches of rouge on her cheeks, then dashed from the room in tears.
"Can you believe that spod didn't know how horrible she looks?" Lilith snickered as she stepped up to take Annabelle's place in front of the mirror. Instead of flinching or cringing at the sight of her reflection, Lilith casually flipped the hair out of her face.
"Excellent form, Lilith," Madame Boucher said approvingly. "Very confident and self-assured."
As she watched her sister turn away from the mirror, Cally found herself feeling bad for all the mean things she'd said and thought about Lilith-not to mention kissing her boyfriend at the Viral Room last night. They were siblings, after all. Even if Lilith didn't know that was the case, she did, and she had been raised to honor family ties.
"Nice job, Lilith," Cally said as she walked back to her desk.
Lilith turned and glared at Cally as if she'd just hocked a loogie at the side of her head. "What do you mean by that, New Blood?"
"I was just trying to compliment you on how you handled yourself in front of the mirror, that's all. You did it like a pro."
"Are you insinuating that I like to look at myself?"
Lilith hissed, her blue eyes flashing.
"No, I was just being nice, Lilith."
"Brownnosing is more like it," Lilith spat. "What are you trying to pull, Monture?"
"Miss Todd! Miss Monture! What's going on here?"
Madame Boucher asked as she moved to separate the two girls.
"She said I was a mirror junkie!"
"I said no such thing! She's lying!" Cally protested.
"Miss Monture, I will not tolerate you insulting others in my class!" Madame Boucher said sternly.
"But-"
"Not another word, Miss Monture!" Madame
Boucher's beehive hairdo jiggled wildly atop her head as she wagged a finger in Cally's face. "I do not tolerate troublemakers, is that understood?"
"Yes, Madame Boucher," Cally said, biting her tongue and dropping her eyes in deference.
"What else can you expect from someone like her?"
Lilith sneered. "Her mother's a slut."
Without any warning, lightning leaped from Cally's left hand, and for a fleeting second she was tempted to let it strike Lilith. Instead, she snapped her hand back, like a cowboy cracking a bullwhip, and sent the deadly charge arcing in the opposite direction.
The other girls standing in line scattered, screaming in terror, as the lightning bolt flew past them and struck the mirror, shattering it to bits.
"My mirror!" Madame Boucher wailed in disbelief.
"Do you realize what you've done, you wretched child?!
That was an original Chippendale!"
"I'm sorry, Madame Boucher!" Cally said as she stared at the smoldering remains. "It was an accident. Honest! I didn't mean for any of this to happen!"
Madame Boucher went to her desk and furiously scribbled a note on a piece of parchment, handing it to the servant who had wheeled the now-demolished mirror to the front of the classroom. "Get out of my class, Monture! Gustav! Escort her upstairs and give this note to the headmistress. And send the second-floor janitor to come sweep this mess up while you're at it."
"As you command, Madame," Gustav replied, taking Cally by the arm. His grip was not rough, but neither could it be easily broken. "Come, young mistress," he said. "You must go to the office."
As she was led out of the room, Cally glanced over her shoulder and saw Carmen, Lula, and Armida clustered about Lilith, whose glossy pink lips were twisted into a triumphant smirk.
The headmistress sat behind her desk, dressed in a neat single-breasted gray tweed skirt suit with black velvet trim. She glanced up from the note Madame Boucher had written to look at Cally, who stood before her desk, hands clasped behind her back.
"As you well know, Bathory Academy is a vendettafree zone," Madame Nerezza said sternly. "It is strictly forbidden for students to use their powers against one another in class."
"Yes, ma'am, I know that. And I'm really sorry about what happened, Madame Nerezza," Cally said earnestly. "I told Madame Boucher I didn't mean to do it. It's just that Lilith said something to me that . . . well, it made me lose my temper, and I reacted without thinking. I managed to keep the lightning from hitting anyone. . . ."
"Be that as it may, what you did is still grounds for permanent suspension."
"I'm being expelled?"
"No, child." Madame Nerezza sighed, shaking her head. "It would be negligent of me to do such a thing. You must be taught how to control the power you have.
"However, if you are to remain at Bathory Academy, you have to promise me that you won't let others provoke you again. The consequences could be disastrous for everyone involved."
"Yes, ma'am, I understand," Cally said. "Thank you for giving me a second chance."
"Something tells me that it would be best to give Madame Boucher time to cool down," the headmistress said with a smile. "Here's a pass to the scrivenery. Stay there until it's time for your next class."
"Thank you, Madame Nerezza."
"Before you go, I want you to have this as well."
The headmistress handed Cally a sealed envelope.
"It's Tanith Graves's invitation to the Grand Ball. Or it would have been had she not been killed. The presentation committee decided I should award it to the Bathory student most worthy of the honor. I was going to have it delivered to your home, but seeing that you're here, I thought I would give it to you personally. I realize it's on short notice. . . ."
"I'm flattered, Madame Nerezza, but you know I can't accept this," Cally protested. "I'm not entitled. I'm not a real Old Blood. And I'm half human."
"All the more reason for you to go, if you ask me," the headmistress replied. "With every decade, each technological advance, the world grows smaller and smaller. If vampires are to survive, we must come to terms with the human race. In you I see a glimmer of hope for our people's future. Besides, where's the harm? Go, have a good time. After all, Rauhnacht is for the young."