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Entry 39: "Proud"

  I’m on the rent-a-jet, in the air, glad to be going home. Everyone else is having a good time and leaving me alone. I don’t think they know why they’re leaving me alone. They don’t know everything that happened at the end. I also think they may have all taken something and don’t want me to bring them down. I don’t blame them. For me the party is definitely over.

  After Vance also left the ballroom, I stood there, processing the conversation I had with Vanessa. She loves Vance enough to let him go, to place him into the arms of someone else, as long as she knows he’ll never die. She must not yet have learned how commonplace it is to die as an immortal. And of course I’m thinking it’s possible it’s really just a ploy to get me to turn him and then he’ll run out on me and run away with her the way Marcel Bousquet did when he left Mirela for Yelena. In that repeated history, I play the part of Mirela which feels fated when taking into account that I am now the imparateasa. Still, Marcel was with Mirela for over two thousand years before he ever saw Yelena. That’s not nothing. When I told Vanessa the blood bind could be broken and that Yelena was proof, it also occurred to me that maybe I’m even proof, considering the amount of blood Mirela and I exchanged in our lovemaking—it made me feel addicted to her—and yet I still killed her.

  Is she—or worse, they—trying to entice me with the concept that the blood bind will make Vance stop seeing me as a child, or at least make it so that it’s no longer an issue? How would she know? Has she even felt the blood bind before? Certainly not with Vance because if she shared her blood with him he’d die and her blood isn’t strong enough to resurrect him. And his mortal blood couldn’t bind her to begin with. So the strength of the blood bind making Vance overlook my appearance is only speculation. What evidence is there? There haven’t been many child vampires. Even thinking about me and Mirela, which Vanessa and Vance know nothing about, maybe our many exchanges of blood helped, but she was open to loving me before we ever tasted each other’s blood.

  All that being said, if I ever did blood bind with Vance, we’d be more secure than we are now. But he wouldn’t feel the bind just because I turned him as little blood is exchanged when turning a mortal, especially so with my blood because of its strength, and at the point of turning only one of the bloods being exchanged is vampiric. So we would need to exchange more, after he was turned. Naturally, exchanges like this take place during lovemaking, which means we would have to be sexual for us to bind in the first place. If blood binding would make Vance blind to my appearance, he wouldn’t be blinded initially the first time we made love, or the third, fourth or fifth or however many times it would take. I suppose a pair of vampires could exchange blood platonically, but just writing that feels repellent. There’s definitely something in our blood that makes us not want to exchange so freely, with just anyone, and it’s love, and especially lovemaking, that suppresses it.

  But let’s say we did bind—to remain bound we’d have to continue to exchange with at least some regularity. How often that is, is said not even to be consistent. But it would certainly be hard to maintain, if say I was in Los Angeles and Vance continued to travel the globe, and especially if there were stops in Córdoba.

  Vance came back to the ballroom alone about ten minutes later and immediately went back into host mode, socializing and making sure people were having a good time. I thought, Wow, if Vanessa just broke things off with him, it sure didn’t affect him much.

  He soon noticed me standing at the edge of the dance floor and came my way.

  “Are you enjoying the ball, Empress?”

  It was the same question Vanessa had asked. Word for word. It actually made me suspicious and this inspired me to avoid answering the same exact question with the same exact answer.

  “Did you find her?”

  “Who?”

  “Vanessa. I saw you go after her.”

  “No. I couldn’t find her anywhere. It’s pointless chasing a vampire. I think she left the hotel.”

  I thought about telling him I had talked to her right before she left, but I didn’t, as I didn’t know if he was aware of Vanessa’s plan to pass him to me and I didn’t want to put myself in the position where I would need to lie if he asked what we had talked about. And for all I know, it was Vance who came up with this plan to begin with. And yet, I felt it was a risk not saying anything, as I didn’t know if he had observed us talking, but I just said, “I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” he answered, looking toward the exit she had used. He then turned back to me, smiled, bowed, and said, “Empress, will you honor me with a dance?”

  “I’ve been waiting all night for you to ask.”

  He offered me his arm for the second time that night. Though the formalities felt fake, like bad playacting of what we imagined decorum in a former century to be like, it was still fun. I didn’t know the song that was playing. It had a good beat, had a dark feel, but it was fast. Our hands touched occasionally, but he didn’t hold me the way he would had the song been slow, and this made me wish he had waited to ask me to dance. Still, it was nice to be dancing with him, and being out there with my friends. Hisato was still paired with Corinne, but Darcy was now with Rosanna instead of Grace, whom I did not see until Vance spun me—she was flirting with the DJ and wearing his headphones over one ear.

  When the song ended, there was an abrupt transition into the next song, making heads turn toward the DJ. It was a slow song—piano and female voice—distinctively Laufey. Vance moved closer, took my right hand with his left and placed his right upon my lower back. Everything tingled. My free hand went to his upper arm and we danced. This was the night I had envisioned.

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  The song was nostalgic, maybe even mournful, but it held us together and in that way, in the moment it was all I wanted. I would have to thank Grace later. I felt happy. Our steps were soft and in accord.

  “You dance well, Empress.”

  “This isn’t my first vampire ball.”

  “Oh no? Where was your first?”

  “In some castle. But it got torn down a long time ago.”

  “It couldn’t’ve been that long ago if you were there, in castle time at least.”

  “You’d be surprised. Tonight’s certainly a success, Vance. I’m proud of you. I hope your nerves have calmed.”

  “They have. And thank you, for being proud of me and thinking it a success. It better be. They pay enough to attend.”

  “How much?”

  “A thousand, but we offer an early grave discount,” he smiled.

  “You’re rich.”

  “There’s a lot of expenses.”

  “You didn’t charge me or my friends anything.”

  “I really wanted you to be here.”

  “I feel proud about that too. I feel proud being here with you.”

  “The proud empress. Don’t let it be your downfall.”

  I had something about him catching me on the tip of my tongue, but as I knew the song, I knew it was already close to ending, so I didn’t spit it out. I only smiled. But I wished we had said more or not used the sentences we had talking about money.

  When the song ended, the music returned to what it had been—faster, calling for us to separate. He released my hand from his, but I wrapped my arms around him wanting to prolong things. He stayed with me, and as he placed his hands upon my shoulders, I looked up into his face and he smiled with his fake fangs and then planted his lips just below the base of my tiara, upon my forehead at my hairline and kissed me lightly. It was just a peck, but I was contented with its sweetness. [This is where we should’ve stopped, said thank you for the dance, and walked off the dance floor together.]

  After the quick kiss, the music now pounding, I drew him tighter to me, closing my eyes and turning my head to press my cheek against his vest, but to be honest, by staying longer, it began to feel like we were trying too hard to create a moment. Fucking song change. The song that had been working for us didn’t last as long as we needed it. And now we were standing nearly still to a song someone else might mosh to. It wasn’t all artificial but I felt aware of us being in our own world and that awareness means you’re not actually there.

  Maybe I shouldn’t speak for him. Maybe for Vance it felt completely different.

  You know what it is? It’s like we both knew that if some spark was going to happen, it would happen here—in San Francisco, at this ball, on this dance floor, so we better make it happen before the last song of the night, or nothing would go any further unless we started all over.

  With my eyes still closed, my arms still wrapped around him and with his hands that had moved to my waist, I heard the whispers of many voices.

  Well that’s sus. Why is Vance spending so much time with her? How old do you think she is? She must be somebody. Everyone’s bowing or whatever to her, even that girl you crushed on in the peach dress. Do you think Vance is like that? Why is there a child here in the first place? Did you see when they came in? It’s like the hottest people here all know her. Everyone at her table is beautiful. Yeah, except her. Dude, Vance, my guy, what are you even doing? This is some fucking Epstein Island shit! Someone rescue her!

  I opened my eyes. Hisato watching us. They were all back at our table being served another round of drinks. The girls were all chatting and laughing, but Hisato was just sipping his drink and staring.

  “Everyone’s whispering Vance and judging. This could be bad for you. Walk me off the floor, bring me back to my table, bow and kiss my hand. Leave me and go back to your guests.”

  He did as instructed and I sensed we were still being watched from all sides. After he kissed my hand, I said, “Though I’m having the most pleasant evening, I must retire safely before daybreak. I thank you for inviting us, Vance. You’ve been the perfect host. Perhaps I will see you at the next ball, wherever that might be. (Vance answered.) Oh really? Singapore? That sounds like fun. I’ll do my best to be there. But now, you must excuse me.” And throughout my parting words, I used telepathy to make my spoken words understood by all those in attendance. I imagine many were confused as to how they could hear me so clearly from across the enormous ballroom with the music blaring, but I also believe most probably didn’t even think about it. At any rate I hoped that this polite yet standard farewell felt lifeless enough to give second thoughts to what had been whispered about us. Already, I heard many new whispers regarding excitement for Singapore which had not previously been announced.

  I turned to the table of my friends. Hisato was no longer there. But the remainder, all the girls, whom I had told mentally to them alone that we had to leave at once, rose and we walked out, again traveling right down the middle of the dance floor toward the exit in no hurry. I wanted to make sure it didn’t look like we were ducking out as if there was something we needed to flee in shame. Near the exit, I heard someone whisper, “Well that just fucked up the ratio of hot chicks.” As I strode out, my head held high, confident and dignified, I second guessed myself, wondering if I was wrong for abandoning Vance. But even as I write this I remain convinced that with the climate, it was best that I be immediately removed from his proximity and the event associated with him. The longer I stayed the more I, and even more so Vance in relation to me, would continue to be observed and discussed.

  In the elevator, I hoped that if I failed to convince anyone with my unsentimental telepathically broadcast farewell, that Vance, as charismatic as he was, could quell things quickly before it settled in and spread further. Yes, we were out there not dancing but still touching and holding and whatever, but he kissed my forehead, not my lips! It’s not that bad, is it? It’s recoverable if it’s addressed right. On the other hand, people and the internet love to gossip. On the other other hand, people quickly forget. Well, I’ll say this much

  Fuck. Back in the air, this just happened…

  Hisato took a seat facing me, leaned forward and opened his hand which held a colorful array of pills. It was like the dope dealer version of Lucky Charms marshmallows. He said any one of them would make things better. I put my pen down, reached out and clasped both of my hands around his, closed it over the pills and let go. He dropped the pills back in his jacket pocket.

  “Did you get Vance drunk last night, so that he’d fuck me?”

  “He fucked you?” Darcy and Rosanna gasped.

  But I didn’t answer either of them. I just stared at Hisato. “Did you?”

  “Only if it worked.”

  “You obviously don’t care about everyone thinking he’s a pedo.”

  “I don’t care if everyone thinks he’s a houseplant. I care about what you want. And isn’t that what you wanted? Besides, you said he knows you’re an adult.”

  “He knows it but doesn’t understand it.”

  “So did it work?”

  I still didn’t answer and everyone went back to leaving me alone. But now I also feel like I can’t write anymore on this flight.

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