Homecoming Masquerade, The (12 page)

On the fourth day of the
third month I had an appointment with the Duchess of Canterbury
, Nicky
read.
I knew that she was ever-living, but she did not know that I knew
.

“How easy is this skill to
learn?” Nicky asked.

“A lot of operatives like to
study this book, and some claim they can bring down their heartrate, but only
the Abbot was able to do it when he was in the room with a vampire. We don’t
need to master this skill anymore. The Abbot had to get really close to make a
kill. He didn’t have the automatic weapons or the computer-controlled traps
that we use now. But for you, Nicky...I don’t know, I think this might be
something useful for you to learn. I think you were lucky that Melissa wasn’t
paying close enough attention to realize her reprogramming wasn’t working. I
don’t want to count on you getting lucky again. I’d rather have you prepared.”

“Alright then,” Nicky said.
“I’ll read the book.”

Breathe in me.

It is a phrase from many
centuries past
, read Page 4 from Abbot Schneider’s book.
The clerics
spoke the words to themselves to call upon the Holy Ghost. They wanted the
spirit to breathe in them, to take away their fears and give them the strength
to fight these monsters from hell
.

Abbot Schneider began and ended
every day with the words, repeating them to himself until he was in a sort of
trance. He claimed to have trained his mind to respond to the words so quickly
that he only needed to say them to himself once and his heart rate would slow
down.

Nicky too said the mantra every
morning and night. She sat up in bed and focused on the words, listening to
their sound in her mind, trying to let them relax her body. She wore a heart
rate monitor Gia had given her to check her progress. According to the monitor,
the words had no effect on her at all.

As August rolled into September
and the school year began, Nicky got too busy to spend any more time on the
Abbot’s little mantra, and she gave up.

Now, having made it through the
first hour of the Homecoming Masquerade, moments removed from Art and Rosalyn’s
attempted wine-spill sabotage, Nicky found the words rolling around in her mind
as she walked.

Breathe in me breathe in me.

She was approaching the bar.
Ryan was sitting alone. Nicky was eying the empty stool right next to him.

Breathe in me breathe in me.

She was nervous, that’s why the
words had popped in her mind. She was trying to calm herself down.

Breathe in me breathe....oh
stop it, Nicky. Why in the world are you nervous now? The hard part of the
night is over. You came in wearing black, you stood up to Kim, you worked the
room, now you’re going to talk to Ryan
.

But why? There was no good
reason to talk to Ryan. He had rejected her, definitively and without
hesitation. He wouldn’t be coming to her party tonight. He wouldn’t be
supporting her in the contest. She needed to cut him loose from the plan and
move on to somebody else.

So why was she making a beeline
for that empty seat right next to him? And why did the thought of speaking with
him now make her feel nervous, so nervous that she felt compelled to speak
Abbot Schneider’s mantra to herself as she walked?

Nicky’s butt was barely on the
empty stool before Ryan was standing to leave.

“Don’t go yet,” Nicky said. “I
came here to talk to you.”

“I think it would be best if we
just stayed away from each other,” Ryan said.

“Is that you talking, or Kim?”
said Nicky.

Ryan looked straight ahead for a
second, then got back in his seat.

“Who do you think it was?” he
asked.

“Those were Kim’s words, not
yours,” Nicky said. “She’s told you to stay away from me, hasn’t she?”

Ryan nodded.

“What in the world does she have
on you that would make you behave like this?” Nicky asked.

“Nothing you need to worry
about,” said Ryan. “Just know that you’re not going to change my mind, no
matter what.”

“I get that. I didn’t come over
here to change your mind,” Nicky said.

“Then why did you?”

It was a good question. Why did
she come over here? To be seen with him? Maybe. But whatever value there was in
that was offset by the risk. Ryan had nearly stood up and left the moment Nicky
arrived. With all the people watching – a snub like that would have been
disastrous. It was only because Nicky had challenged his manhood, reminded him
that Kim was holding him on a short leash, that he was still here.

“I didn’t know where else to
go,” she said, a lie. She knew lots of other places she could have gone. With
Ryan out of play, she needed to be spending her time on other prospects. The
trouble was, she wanted to talk to Ryan.

“You should figure something
out,” Ryan said. “You need somebody with money taking an interest in you. Right
now it’s not me.

“That’s just it,” Nicky said.
“If it isn’t you, I don’t know who it is.”

“We need to come up with
somebody pronto, because if we don’t, you and an immortal version of Kim
Renwick are going to be put together in a cage next spring, and I don’t care
how much of a bad ass you think you are, you’re not going to survive.”

“
We
need to come up with
something?” Nicky said.

“Yes, we do. Just because I
can’t help you doesn’t mean I want to see you lose. Tell me who you’ve got so
far. Who is going to support you? Who is going to your after-party?”

No one yet, Nicky thought. The
plan was structured so that intermission was the time that Jill made her big
move, and tried to close the deal with Annika.

“I don’t know,” Nicky said. “The
truth is, I’m telling everyone that lots of people are coming to my party, but
I don’t know if anyone is really planning to.”

“That’s a problem,” said Ryan.

“I know it is,” said Nicky.

“What about Marshall Beaumont?”
Ryan said. “He’s not rich enough to swing the contest, but he’s somebody.”

“He’s on my list,” Nicky said.

“Then you should go find him
now,” said Ryan.

“I don’t want to.”

Ryan smiled. “Yeah, I don’t want
you to either. That guy’s weird.”

They laughed. Ryan, who was the
only person at the bar who wasn’t gulping from a wine glass, took a sip of
water. Nicky looked around the ballroom to see who was where.

She saw Marshall off by himself
in a corner in the back, perfectly placed for her to approach him right now.
But she stayed put. Marshall would become important later, after Brawl in the
Fall, but he wasn’t crucial right now, and she didn’t want to leave Ryan. As
useless as he was if he was going to support Kim, it was nice to talk to him.
It was nice to take a break from all the espionage.

She saw Annika, a near-empty
wine glass in her hand, a crowd all around her. Annika was telling a funny
story, and had everyone in stitches.

She saw Jill, standing just
outside Annika’s crowd, waiting for her moment to strike, and thought about how
much better it was to be Nicky Bloom, a fictional character, rather than Jill
Wentworth, having to play herself. Nicky got to stay in full play-acting mode,
which made it easy to present all the lies she was telling as truth. Jill, in
contrast, was straddling the line between fact and fantasy. She had been Jill
Wentworth, the rich daughter of a rich family, long before she was a Network
operative, and had to reconcile the person she was with the person she now pretended
to be. When she told her story about the secret consortium behind Nicky’s
entrance, she did so knowing full well that it would have repercussions in all
facets of her life. It would cause waves with her parents, with her aunts and
uncles, her cousins – people she had known since she was a little child. People
with whom she once had been truthful, but now had to lie. Lying to people you
know was so much harder than lying to strangers, and to Nicky, most everyone in
this ballroom was still a stranger.

“You know, that was really
awesome what you did to Art Tremblay,” said Ryan.

“Thanks. It was surprisingly
easy.”

“You made Kim so angry. Did you
see her stomp out the front door? She knew she was going to blow her top at
you, and she knew that wouldn’t help her cause at all, so you made her flee.
Good grief that was sweet. Serves Art right for trying that crap. How much you
wanna bet that Kim is reaming that guy a new one outside as we speak?”

“I’m sure she is,” said Nicky,
“and he’ll just put up with it. It’s so sad.”

“Where else is he going to go?
He has to support Kim, because if she wins this and he was supporting someone
else, then he’ll have an immortal who hates him.”

“He needs to believe that
someone else can win this,” Nicky said.

“We all do,” said Ryan. “You’re
doing okay in here tonight, Nicky, but I don’t think you’ve got anyone
convinced yet that you really have a chance. You need to get out of this corner
where we’re hiding and work the room some. I expect people are interested in
talking to you, if nothing else than to hear your take on what just happened
with Art and Rosalyn.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Nicky
said. “Can you come with me?”

“No, I’m already being careless
just talking to you,” Ryan said. “If people tell Kim we were sitting together...well,
you know how it goes. We need to separate. See you around, Nicky Bloom.”

Ryan pushed himself away from
the bar. As he turned to leave, he allowed his hand to brush against Nicky’s,
and, ever so quickly he gave her fingers a squeeze. It was a tiny gesture, the
most he could do without being seen, but to Nicky it was huge. At that moment,
she wished all of this silliness could just go away, that Thorndike Academy,
the immortals, the Network, and everything else that had Nicky and Ryan going
in opposite ways could be pushed aside so she and Ryan could keep on talking.
So she could keep on being herself, even if it was only for a little while.

“Y
es, Nicky Bloom. The one who
got Shannon’s spot. The girl we worked so hard to get in here. We totally
screwed up on that one. We practically handed her the opening on a silver
platter, and this is how she repays us.”

Kim was half-way down the drive
in front of the mansion, holding a phone to her ear, weaving in between the
array of stretch limousines parked all around.

“You’re saying the new girl wore
black to Homecoming?”

“Yes, Daddy. The new girl. The
one you and all your investigators thought was the safest bet. The only girl
from all the applicants that you were certain would have no interest in Coronation.
How much money have you thrown around to make sure you knew who was entering?
How could you miss this?”

“Interesting.”

Interesting?
What the
fuck was wrong with him? This wasn’t interesting. This was disastrous.

As a girl wearing black, Kim’s
limo was parked close to the mansion. She opened the back door and stepped
inside. Her driver turned back to see if she needed anything. She slammed the
privacy screen closed.

Rockwell Transport had a fleet
of stretch limos they kept on reserve just for Thorndike events. Fifty of them
in all, custom made to cater to the unique needs of the girls in Thorndike’s
senior class.

While the guys could come to
Homecoming in whatever transportation they desired (and most of them selected
more flashy ways to drive about than stretch limos – it was not uncommon for
their parking area to be full of Italian sports cars) it had become tradition
for the girls to arrive in limousines. A single limo for every one of them. The
backs of those limos were designed to serve as mobile dressing and storage
rooms between Homecoming and the after parties. There was a rack on which to
hang their clothes, automatic blinds to cover up the windows, a vanity area
with a large mirror and a complete supply of makeup, a locking jewelry chest,
and, most importantly, a combination safe where the girls could put their masks
during the after-parties. In addition to all this, the drivers of the limos
were professional security and ex-cops. They were armed and ready to defend the
property inside, a necessity since the value of the gold and diamonds in some
of the masks exceeded a hundred grand.

“How does this girl seem?” Kim’s
father asked.

“Like a total bitch,” Kim said.

Her father laughed.

“I don’t know what you think is
so funny.”

“Kim, you’re telling me that a
new girl who isn’t even from town has just waltzed into the Homecoming
masquerade wearing a black dress and is acting like a total bitch. I don’t
understand why you’re even upset. This might be a good thing. Clearly, this
girl doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. She
does know what she’s doing. They’re all talking about her. She’s messed up
everything. Don’t you get it? Nobody wants me to win. They’re only supporting
me because they think I’ve already won and are scared of what I might do to
them once I’m immortal. But this new girl already has everyone excited. People
are talking about going to her after-party rather than mine.”

“Where’s her after-party?”

“At the Hamilton. Jada Razor is
performing there.”

“I find it hard to believe—”

“Believe it! Jada Razor is
performing at Nicky Bloom’s party. Why didn’t you get a pop star for my party?”

“Kim, we got you the White
House.”

“Who gives a flying fuck about
the White House?”

“People aren’t going to skip
your party just to see Jada Razor.”

“No, but when they hear she’s
coming to Nicky’s they wonder, don’t they? Hell, I wonder. Who is backing Nicky
Bloom? Where did she come from? And if she can get Jada Razor to perform at her
after-party, what else can she do?”

“That’s a good point.”

“Damn right it’s a good point! I
swear, I’m the only one with my eyes open. You and mom and all your
investigators and lawyers and other bullshit and you didn’t even see this
coming. It’s clear as day what’s happened here. We thought we had this whole
contest wrapped up because nobody was challenging us...in the open. But all this
time, there’s been this secret group with their own candidate, and they got her
in right under our noses.”

“Who is it? Who’s behind her?”

“How should I know? That’s your
job. The problem, Daddy, is that you and mom got lazy. The problem is you got
all cozy with Daciana and thought it meant—”

“Kim, you need to stop. You’re
panicking over nothing.”

“Easy for you to say! You don’t
get locked in a cage if you lose!”

“If you lose, I’m just as dead
as you are. The way I’ve behaved these past ten years, anything less than first
place for you and I’m a dead man. Whoever wins would make sure of it. So don’t
speak to me like I’m not as vested in this as you are. I have just as much to
lose.”

Kim didn’t argue. It was true,
of course. There wasn’t a soul in Washington who wouldn’t love to see Galen
Renwick go down in flames. It was only their fear of him, of what he could do,
that kept the Renwicks safe. If people began to believe there wasn’t reason to
be afraid, it was over for all of them.

Thinking about all this made her
feel better. Not that she was any more confident in her daddy’s ability to fix
this mess. It just felt good to know that she wouldn’t be the only one killed.

“We will adapt, Kim. You may
have thought this would be an easy road from start to finish, but I’ve always
known otherwise. Nothing is easy in Washington.”

“So what do we do?” Kim asked.

“We start with this after-party.
We make sure people come to your party rather than hers. You’re going to get
back in that ballroom and work it. Anybody you think might ditch your party –
you confront them directly. You ask them if they’ll have a drink with you at
your party. Make them give you a commitment, right to your face. These kids are
drunk and confused tonight, but they know enough not to insult you outright.”

“Okay. I can do that. What are
you going to do?”

“I’ll get started on Nicky
Bloom. We’ll find something eventually, I’m sure. You just relax, Kim. Now more
than ever it’s time to show confidence. If the others sense you’re afraid...”

He was right. She had allowed
Nicky Bloom to rattle her, which only made things worse. It was time to take
back control. She was Kimberly Fucking Renwick, for God’s sake, and she was allowing
some no-name nobody to mess with her. Not anymore.

She hung up with her daddy and
walked back up the driveway, finding Art and Rosalyn standing on the stoop. Art
had removed his wine-soaked jacket. Rosalyn, whose outfit was ruined, had
covered up with a trench coat and was sobbing.

Pathetic.

“Kim, I’m sorry. She twisted—”

“Shut up Art before you bury
yourself even further. What’s the use of all that time in the gym if you’re so
weak a girl can spin you like a top?”

“She caught me at a weird angle.
Let me—”

“Shut up I said! I don’t want to
hear your voice.”

Rosalyn let out a whimper. It
occurred to Kim that right now she was now doing the opposite of what her
father had suggested.

Whatever. Rosalyn and Art were
coming to her party regardless. As were Amy, Pauline, Josette, Brian, Andrea,
Colin, Otis, Remy, and twenty-some others. All the richest kids in school,
whose families were either indebted to Kim’s dad or compelled to behave because
of some dirty secret in their past. Even the worst case scenario left Kim with
all the power players.

Including Ryan. That was her ace
in the hole. Clearly, the new girl thought she had Ryan all wrapped up.
Surprise, Nicky Bloom! At Thorndike, you can bat your eyelashes at the pretty
boy all you want. That kind of stuff might have worked at whatever Podunk high
school she came from, but in DC it was about the dirt. It was about the trade.
You want something from me, I want something from you. And what Ryan wanted
from Kim was to keep her mouth shut about a certain secret that she and only
she knew.

It made Kim happy to think about
how she’d already spoiled what was probably a big part of Nicky Bloom’s
strategy. But she couldn’t get cocky. There were many others who wouldn’t
hesitate to back the new girl if they thought she had even the slightest
chance. Those were the people she had to talk to.

“What time is it Rosalyn?”

Rosalyn perked up at the
question, as if in a few words all might be forgiven.

“Four minutes after ten,” she
said.

Six minutes of intermission left.
Enough time to get started on what her daddy suggested. Enough time to find
some important people, people who might be thinking about going to Nicky’s
after-party, and make sure they remained loyal to Kim.

The doorman allowed Kim back
into the mansion. Right away, she saw someone to approach.

Marshall Beaumont was someone
Kim expected to support her even though she hadn’t really expended any effort
on him. He was exactly the sort who might leave her given the chance. She would
start with him, then, one by one, she would get in the faces of every student
who was a flight threat, and she would make them promise to her that they were
coming to her party.

“Kim, oh...hi, how are you?”
Marshall said.

“Wonderful, thank you,” said
Kim. “Will I see you at my party tonight?”