When we arrived downstairs, it was almost eleven-thirty. The ballroom was already filled with activity and pulsing drum beats. The dance floor at the center of the room was alive with dancers and the round banquet tables bordering it were full of guests eating and drinking. The tables for twelve used black linen and the chairs were upholstered in a dark red velvet. There were candelabra centerpieces at each table, their bases necklaced by short stemmed red roses. Though they used flameless electric candles, they still flickered like real candlelight and though the tall tapers were plastic, they were molded with dripping red wax which made their total appearance real enough. Crystal circle chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their bulbs all dimly lit. The ballroom’s overall darkness seemed the opposite of Mirela’s ballroom during the last Communion of the Ancients, which comparatively I suppose should be considered the authentic vampire ballroom. But maybe it’s all just a matter of taste. For all I know, Los Angeles de Sangre throws their balls in pitch black and line dances in the dark. Anyhow, back to here… The area of the dance floor was somewhat brighter as red and white lights spun in sync with the harsh electro music and bounced off the large mirrored ball hanging above it. Though there were plenty of waitstaff in red jackets delivering alcoholic beverages on silver serving trays, there was also a wine fountain, spouting blood red wine down five tiers. But what I liked most were the tall windows that were black with night and draped with threadbare, torn, dusty linen, like rotten shrouds, that blew gently from unseen fans, as if the windows were open.

  As we stood just inside the entrance, roving eyes stuck to us and progressively grew in number as if an announcement of our arrival had been made and had then rippled all the way to the corners of the ballroom. Vance, in a vintage looking tuxedo, hurried from the middle of the room toward us, further captivating the attention of the crowd who seemed eager to witness our reception. He wore a big smile with his fake fangs in place and I just hoped no one with me, Hisato especially, would scoff at them openly.

  “Welcome, Empress and honored guests! I’m Vance delos Santos, your host and co-founder of the Carmilla Courtship Society.” He greeted each of them individually, bowing and kissing the hands of the ladies first, and then bowing to Hisato at the end, and all throughout telling each of them how happy he was to have them in attendance. I could feel the room watching. Rosanna and Grace received Vance’s welcome enthusiastically, Darcy pleasantly, but Corinne and especially Hisato were rigid and unimpressed. Vance wasn’t phased in the slightest by their coldness and I admired that about him.

  “Please allow me to escort you to your table.” He smiled and offered his arm to me and I took it and I felt swept away with the evening’s promise.

  Vance guided our party right down the middle of the dance floor. The music continued but the dancing stopped and the crowd parted for us. Many of the stares were curious, many perhaps even confused. With the treatment we received, we were like unrecognized royalty. From all sides I heard whispers—all variations of “Who are they?”—and not all of them nice.

  “You missed my speech,” Vance said to me as we strolled the length of the dance floor.

  “I’m sorry, Vance. We’re never on time. Usually, it’s like we’re intentionally late. I know it’s snobby. But I should’ve known you’d be speaking and not missed it.”

  “It’s okay, you’re tonight’s special guest. You should be snobby,” he laughed. “And I don’t actually mind you missing the opening. What I say is always so generic that it’d probably diminish me in your eyes.”

  “Never. I’m sure it was far better than the speech I gave once.”

  Our table was centered at the head of the room, and was uniquely empty, the way reserved tables are. Vance pulled the chair at twelve o’clock out for me.

  “I really am sorry we were late.”

  “Not at all. It actually built excitement. People were wondering who this table was being held for.”

  Vance asked what we would like to drink and quickly a majority formed requesting five sea breezes and the sixth—Hisato, stating Vance could just bring a couple bottles of vodka and a glass. He did nod to Vance after the latter said he’d have it brought over immediately, and that kinda worked like a thank you, which is actually notable for Hisato who usually isn’t at all courteous when dealing with mortals. But after Vance bowed and left, Hisato surprised me when he turned to me and said, “He’s alright looking.”

  After the cocktails and bottles were delivered, wait staff brought out multi-course menus which actually had good choices. The Carmilla Courtship Society seemed to spare no expense. It was then I realized I had no idea what all the guests had paid in admission as Vance hadn’t charged us a single penny.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I looked up from my menu to scan those at the other tables to see if anyone was clearly not eating, wondering if any of these mortals were skipping such a nice dinner to play better the part of vampires, whom they believed shunned all food. And then at a table far right and right off the dance floor I saw her—Vanessa. As she was seated I could only see the top of her strapless peach shaded gown, but it complemented her brown hair and somehow made her look demure and the very opposite of intimidating. In person, though still very pretty, she looked much different than on social media. It was like her overconfidence only came through for the camera. Her table had a party of twelve, mostly mortals, but Vanessa was flanked on either side by blonde vampires. All three were extremely attractive, but Vanessa, although the least flamboyant, drew the most notice. (I’m probably biased. Fixated? Obsessed? “Fascinated” like Vance?) Like me, when oriented with the dance floor she sat at 12 o’clock, the center of attention. I wondered if Vance had seated her too. I was staring at her, but she never glanced over. Yet, with that big display at our arrival and our procession to the head table with me at the vanguard, the little girl who had “usurped” her arm in arm with Vance, I was sure she knew where I was. She was intentionally not looking my way. As the amplified music and clamor of guests made it difficult to hear, when I ordered my food I enhanced my speaking voice with telepathy to make it easier on the waiter and selected an arugula salad, grilled tiger prawns, steak tartare, and cheesecake. Rosanna replied to the waiter she’d have whatever it was I was having, which I repeated to him with telepathy when he leaned in what seemed invasively close to Rosanna in order to hear her.

  Though we were all chatty and drinking and laughing, nothing noteworthy happened at our table as we ate our dinners. I counted three photographers roaming the venue photographing all these “vampires” in attendance, but likely they, and most of the guests, didn’t realize or know it possible that there were real vampires in their midst (11 counting us), at this 800-plus guest ball they likely geotagged so their followers would envy their being here. We were photographed too, although we didn’t go out of our way to flash our fangs for the cameras. What I found noteworthy happened at Vanessa’s table. As a photographer got into position to photograph them, I saw Vance swoop in from behind and lean in to be included in the photograph, beside Vanessa who seemed to light up in his presence. The feeling in the pit of my stomach, I wondered if she had also felt, while watching Vance, host or not, attending to me.

  When we finished eating and our dessert plates were taken away, our table was approached by the two prepossessing Asian actual vampires, female and male, I had noticed at another table when we were first seated. Their blood scent was new to me and more subtle than the other blood scents I have thus far encountered. With a curtsey and a bow, they greeted me. Though the large round table separated us, our vampiric senses allowed us to hear each other normally while using our regular speaking voices. “It is an honor for us to present ourselves to you, Empress Solodnikova,” the female said. “My name is Jenny Yang and this is Wei Fei. We are both Hong Yan Zhi Hua.”

  I then knew what I smelled of their blood was the faint scent of camellias as Viorica had mentioned belonged to Hong Yan Zhi Hua when she tutored me about the other living bloodlines, including theirs—Red Flower—which originated in Northern China and has for more than sixteen centuries been based in Beijing. I nodded to them and invited them to sit and have a drink with us. Under the table linen, I squeezed Rosanna’s hand and she introduced herself and the Ketsuen. A waiter was called over and we were brought fresh drinks. Wei said they were honored when I revealed they were the first of their bloodline I had met.

  “You are well known among Red Flower, Empress Solodnikova. You are revered for putting an end to the war like you did.”

  I answered that it was certainly an honor to be revered among Red Flower but that I didn’t deserve so much credit, as there were many involved with renewing peace and that Hisato probably played the most important role. Though Jenny and Wei seemed interested to hear more, Hisato basically shrugged off any credit due to him too and it went no further. After they finished their drinks, they thanked me for the pleasure and honor of receiving them and gave very gracious goodbyes to everyone else at the table. To be honest, I liked them, but it wasn’t fun. I would’ve rather gotten to know them by getting smashed playing Never Have I Ever and going up to the roof and jumping in the pool wearing our gowns and jackets.

  Shortly after they left, a moment we were all waiting for happened. Hisato stood, bowed to Corinne, held out his hand, and asked her for her first dance of the night. Corinne’s cheeks flushed and she took his hand and rose and we all applauded as they made their way to the dance floor. We watched them dance together. It was sweet, Hisato holding her close. Soon Darcy and Grace rose, prompting Rosanna to stand, which left me the only one sitting, so I stood too. Darcy and Grace strode onto the dance floor holding hands, but Rosanna stayed with me.

  “Go with them,” I said.

  “Don’t you want to dance?”

  “I do, but I’m gonna wait.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, just go.”

  And so she went and I stayed and watched standing at the edge of the dance floor wearing my tiara, waiting for my mortal man to come and ask me to dance. But then, quite quickly, my attention was diverted away from my friends, because what I saw coming my way was Vanessa and her two immortal mean girl companions. I wasn’t worried. They wouldn’t be mean. Even if they were by nature, they couldn’t be so here in practice because I’m the fucking head of a bloodline and I was sure they would sense the power of my blood. But they were still a head taller when they curtsied to me.

  Room service just knocked. My bottles are here. BRB.

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