In the Master's chamber they gather for the feast They stab it with their steely knives But they just can't kill the beast As we neared Dark Mirror, Anita asked, "What kind of media coverage are you expecting, Asher?" "We are expecting only the local stations. However, the tourism board representative that has been in contact with my people has promised to get some national coverage. She seemed to think that vampires would be just the draw needed to revive the lagging tourism industry," Asher told her. I'd been there for those talks. I believe the rep's reasoning on that was, "Look what they've done for St. Louis." She'd seemed puzzled by our amusement at that remark. After the meeting, I had pulled her aside and explained Asher's *connection* to the St. Louis vampires. At first she was embarrassed at not knowing that, then excited about the prospect and even more enthusiastic about the project. I was of the wait-and-see opinion on the matter. Florida was still under Republican control, and the anti-vampire groups had a strong presence in the state.
Richard interrupted my train of thought. "Mrs. Lowery, aren't you worried what your *husband* will have to say about you appearing all over the news with the Master of the City?" What had *him* being such a snarky prude tonight? And why did he even think it was any of his business? "Husband?" Anita asked, surprised. "You're *married*?" "For the past 11 years," I answered her, then turned on Richard. "Derik already *knows* about tonight, Mr. Zeeman. In fact, he's already figured out a way to work it to his advantage. The situation will actually afford him a little extra protection. It's already established that I support and stand by him. Knowing what connections I now have will act as a deterrent to anyone who might've wanted to mess with him."
Jean-Claude looked impressed. "Your husband sounds like quite the survivor, Madame." "He is," I replied. "But he's not dealing well with captivity. He insists that prison would've already destroyed him if it hadn't been for having me there for him." Another thing that Derik had been insisting on for weeks now was that I sleep with Asher. His exact words had been, "Fuck the vampire. He wants to; you know *you* want to. Then you can tell me about it at visit." He got little quirks like that from time to time. In the past, I'd always managed to come up with some excuse or other to not follow through on similar requests he'd made. He'd always seemed relieved later that I hadn't actually done anything like that. I just wondered how he was going to react when I finally did give in to Asher's advances. My resistance had been wearing thin.
'Yes it *has*, cherie,' Asher's voice rang warm in my head. I could sense the beginnings of irritation. It wasn't really the scalding heat of anger...yet. 'How long have you kept this hidden from me, Tamara?' 'He's been bugging me about it for weeks,' was my mental response. 'I'm not going to do something as major as that simply because someone *else* wants me to.' 'Do *you* want to?' The directness of the question stunned me for a moment. I was vaguely aware that Jean-Claude, Anita, and Richard were watching us intently. They knew *something* was going on between us but not *what*. 'I-I'm not *ready* for that, Asher,' I could feel panic trying to work its way into my mental tone. 'Oh, I think you *are*, cherie. You just don't want to *admit* it,' he chuckled in my mind. He reached out an elegant hand and brushed a tendril of hair from my face. I jumped as if I'd been stung. Asher laughed, a rich, melodious tone that caressed me as if there was nothing between us but skin. I whimpered. Anita glanced back and forth between us and looked about to say something, when the limo came to a stop.
"We are here, mes amies," Asher announced, preventing any conversation. It was time to make our grand entrance. "Are you ready for this, cherie?" he asked as he took my hand. "Sure. Just like going to Disney. Mentally shut out the crowd." Now if I could only convince *myself* I could do this. It looked like the media blitz for an awards show out there. Asher disembarked, turning quickly back to face the open door. He extended a hand to me. I took it and exited the car. We turned together to face the cameras and the crowd. There were several gasps and "ohmygods". Most of those facing us had never seen the scarred glory that is Asher, Master of the City of Orlando. I was a dark blue shadow to his golden brilliance.
The media personnel quickly recovered, thrusting microphones, camera lenses, and glaring lights in our faces. I resisted the urge to shield my eyes from the lights. Rather, I maintained a regal air. I was determined to not look like some poor hick girl at her first prom. I was also doing my best to ignore most of the questions directed at me. Asher fielded them nicely. One rather belligerent reporter got through the throng. Angrily, he demanded, "How *could* you associate with these...MONSTERS?!!" I looked at him with a slight smile and a peaceful expression and stated, "I simply do." Security reached him to remove him from the property. I stopped them. "No, let him stay," I said. "We *do* recognize freedom of the press. And he has a right to his views and opinions, even if I don't agree with them."
Attention was diverted from that little scene as our guests got out of the limo. I had to admire Richard's ingenuity in keeping his identity secret. (Wouldn't do for any of his students, their parents, or his teaching colleagues to recognize him on TV...there *was* national coverage after all.) He had shifted his facial features into a partial wolf form, complete with a fine down of coppery fur and amber eyes. It was an intimidating and rather disturbing combination when paired with the tux. He got out first and gave the crowd a good look at him, playing the role of a bodyguard. I was amused to see the press back up a few feet. Jean-Claude came next followed by Anita. They moved up to join us. Richard continued to loom, keeping the press at bay as our group made its way to the door.
Once we were all safely inside, Asher excused himself to oversee some last minute preparations. I led the way to our table. The tables were arranged on three levels on three sides of the room. A fourth level, set below the others took up the center of the hall, with a raised stage against the remaining wall. A loft above the stage housed a small chamber orchestra. They were warming up before the diners were admitted to the building. We still had about a half hour before that would happen. Our table, or I should say, Asher's private table was set in the center of the topmost tier on its own raised dais. The Master's table would seat up to ten and was NOT to be used by anyone other than Asher and his special guests...ever.
"Hey!" I heard a familiar voice chirp. I turned to see Kimmy approaching us. I'd forgotten that Asher had said she would be sitting with us tonight. He'd also provided her with appropriate attire for the evening. She wore an elegant period gown. The bodice and overskirt with train were of a heavy satin brocade-cloth in a rich antique gold tone. The bodice came to a V-point in front and was off-the-shoulder with half sleeves. White satin ribbon trimmed the bodice with ribbon rosettes at the neckline and elbows. Ivory lace hung in a soft fringe around the neckline and formed bell-shaped drop cuffs that went nearly to her wrists. The overskirt was split in the center and held to the sides by two more rosettes. The underskirt was ivory satin with an ivory lace overlay. The lace glinted with gold thread accents.
"Nice dress," I commented. "Asher sure seems to be pretty fond of the gold and white color scheme." "Actually, I picked it out myself from the selection he showed me," she beamed. "Isn't it just *to die* for?" Anita sputtered, trying to muffle a laugh. "Um, Kimmy, you *might* want to *rethink* that phrasing," I said with a pained grin. She just grinned. Unrepentant imp! Asher returned at that moment. "I see Mademoiselle Kimberly has found you. She is directing a portion of this evening's entertainment. Please, everyone be seated," he said as he directed us to our seats. Seemed we were alternating genders tonight. Anita sat between Jean-Claude and Asher on one side. I was between Asher and Richard on the other. Kimmy had been directed to Richard's other side. I sensed trouble brewing.
"Why did you put Kimmy over there?" I asked Asher. *She* was already showing signs of irritation and looked ready to vent it upon Richard. Asher kept a bland face as he answered, "She *does* have work to do tonight, cherie, so it is best she is seated at the end of the row. And to have seated her by Jean-Claude would have been too distracting to her, I fear. I did not seat her with *you*, because I don't want you two to be plotting behind my back." He'd said the last with a smile. "Fine. We'll plot behind Richard's back," I smarted off. "Kimmy...don't *even* think about it," I warned her. She had a mischievously malicious glint in her eye as she glared silently at Richard. He finally noticed. "What'd *I* do?" he asked her, puzzled. She just continued to glare.
"She doesn't *like* you, Mr. Zeeman," I smiled. "Go away," Kimmy said at the same time. "But you were practically *cuddling* when I carried you to a chair the other night," he sounded shocked that she could dislike him. "Just because I was out of it and happen to like sweaters doesn't mean I like *you*," she told him. "Go away." "Kimberly," Asher's voice was cool. She stopped needling Richard and stared sullenly forward. She knew better than to push it with Asher. I leaned over and whispered to Richard, "I think she's just mad that you didn't steal Anita away so *she* could 'console' Jean-Claude." He just shook his head.
The vampire in question was quietly chuckling. I knew *he'd* heard my whisper. The diners began to stream into the dining room. As they did, the chamber orchestra began playing softly. I spotted a few celebrities scattered around the audience. Several were sports figures of one type or another, along with some entertainers. Even the mayor was attending. The wait staff, in Renaissance costumes, began circulating among the tables, taking orders for drinks and appetizers. Asher stood as a spotlight fell on our table. Whether because of acoustics or voice tricks, his voice seemed to fill the room when he spoke. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Dark Mirror. Although we are billed as theatre, it would be more accurate to say that we are a cabaret. The entertainment we offer will vary greatly from night to night, often spontaneously, and occasionally with some audience participation. Tonight we will follow along with the meal. First, an appetizer, then something a little more...nourishing to go with the entree, and finally something light but slightly *decadent* to finish things off. So, we invite you to eat, drink, and make merry."
While he'd been speaking, the open central area of the room had filled with vamps and weres in court attire and paired for dancing. Asher took my hand, raising me from my seat, and he escorted me down the stairs to the dance floor. As we took up our positions, the chamber orchestra struck up a minuet. I was relieved that I was able to get through the intricate steps without tripping. 'You have been practicing,' Asher's mental tone sounded pleased. 'Well, I figured there had to be an ulterior motive behind you teaching me this dance,' I replied. When the music ended, I found out exactly how literally Asher had meant *this* performance was an *appetizer*. The participating weres were all pommes de sang, and the vamps proceeded to feed at the end of the dance. "So help me, Asher," I whispered, "if you bite me out here, I WILL bite you back."
He gave that low chuckle that promised things that made me blush. "Oh, ma rose d'acier, you make such pretty promises!" We returned to our seats as the house lights came back up and meals began to arrive. Asher had taken the liberty of ordering ahead on *my* dinner. Said he wanted to surprise me. That was fine with me. I'd always been of the opinion that eating was one of life's greatest pleasures. I was always willing to try something new. Asher was at first a bit perplexed at my fondness for *spicy* foods, but he'd begun to grow accustomed to it. I *still* remember his reaction one night when he'd opened the marks without warning right as I was starting in on a platter of Taco Bell's Nachos Mucho Grande, with *extra* jalapenos. Talk about a scalding experience!
My eyes lit up when my plate was set in front of me. Roast venison with steamed vegetables. It had been *years* since I'd had deer meat. The first bite was pure heaven. The meat was tender and juicy, with just the right amount of sage, and still retained the gamy taste I loved. The vegetables had been drizzled with a glaze of clarified butter and herbs. I think I enjoyed the meal almost as much if not more than Asher did as he tasted it through the marks. A short play was acted out on stage as everyone enjoyed their main course. I was so wrapped up in the feedback that Asher was giving me on the meal that I didn't really pay much attention to the play. Kimmy excused herself during the brief intermission before dessert. Her part in the entertainment was coming up. She was directing an elaborate shadow puppet presentation.
I wasn't sure which was more decadent, the chocolate concoction Asher had ordered for me (which fell into the category that I referred to as "mountain-o-sin on a plate"), or the *very* risque theme that the puppet play was taking. It was *almost* burlesque. I could imagine who might've had a hand in scripting it. Just as the performance was nearing its end, I heard a deep growl from Richard, beside me. He was focused on the tapestries that hid Asher's private entrance behind the dais. I rose and started to turn in that direction. Suddenly a furred form slammed into me, launching me backwards over the table. Without thinking about it, I flew just enough to control where we'd hit. I was aiming for the dance floor. Didn't want to land on the steps and risk a broken spine.
The impact as we hit the floor knocked the wind out of me, stunning me briefly. I was able to see that my attacker was a terrifying combination of bear and man. It *had* to be Tim. No other werebear would dare attack any of Asher's people. We had a treaty. Plus, I had made friends with their Ursa, Evie. Our landing had tumbled some of the puppetry sets. That brought Kimmy out from back stage. She took one look at the damage and rushed the bear in a blind rage. "My PUPPETS!" she screamed as she began pummeling and yanking fur. I don't think she knew I was underneath him. He lifted the arm she was attacking and gave a violent shake, dislodging her. She tumbled against the stage. As she got up and prepared to launch herself back at him, two things happened simultaneously. Richard plowed into Tim, knocking him off me. Also, Jean-Claude was suddenly beside Kimmy, one arm around her waist to keep her from getting back into the fight. I was just close enough that I could see his eyes glow in a wash of deep blue.
"Non, petite fae, non," he whispered to her as he took her gaze. She visibly relaxed, but her face seemed to crumple. "But my *puppets*," she said plaintively as she tried to resist being rolled. "They can be repaired, cherie," Jean Claude soothed. "But you have been wounded." Sure enough, there was a shallow cut on the back of her hand. Tim must've grazed her with a claw when he'd slung her off. The severity of what had just happened finally sank in with her. Tears streamed down her face, and in a small voice she said, "I don't *want* to be a bear." Jean-Claude kissed the wounded hand (which looked suspiciously less bloody afterwards) and finally captured her eyes fully. "I know, petite fae. Sleep now, cherie. We'll take care of you."
Kimmy's eyes closed and she went limp, lost in a deep sleep. Jean-Claude scooped her up like a small child cradled in his arms. A hand appeared in front of my face. I looked up to see Asher standing over me. I took the offered hand and climbed to my feet. Everything seemed to be working okay. Good. In his other hand, Asher held a set of silver manacles. Now where did *those* come from, and did I really want to know? We walked over to where Richard straddled Tim, pinning the bear's arms down with one hand on his throat. Anita stood, feet braced, with her Browning trained squarely on Tim's head. In silence, Asher knelt and bound the werebear with silver. His face remained passive, but his eyes had frosted over, and I could almost *smell* the rage he was keeping in check. I was pretty pissed off myself.
Richard got up, his tux in shreds. Even furry, that was a damned impressive body. At least enough cloth remained to keep from offending an of the audience's modesty. He hoisted Tim to his feet. I stepped over to him, a pleasant smile on my face that never touched my eyes. I ran my fingers through the fur on his cheek and gripped his lower jaw. To the spectators, it looked like I was petting him. Let them think that. I whispered low enough that it wouldn't travel to those watching, "I can understand why you would attack *me*. But you hurt my friend. As much as I would *love* to kill you myself, I'm going to give you over the Evie's tender mercies. She has warned you what would happen if you ever went against her again, Tim." I watched as defiance and fear battled for control of his emotions. But know this, Tim," I added. "If you have infected my friend...well, let's just say you'd make a handsome throw rug." I let him see in my eyes that I wasn't just being a smartass, I *meant* every word I said. If he'd given Kimmy lycanthropy, I'd have his hide for a trophy.
The house lights came up, and Asher took charge of the situation. "As promised, we have provided spontaneity in our performances. We hope that you have enjoyed your meal and this evening's entertainment. And now, we must bid you adieu. We look forward to your patronage in the future." Both Asher and Jean-Claude clouded the minds of our audience as we left the floor, exiting through the passage behind the Master's Table. To the diners, we had simply vanished. Once we were all down the corridor a ways, a couple of the bears arrived to escort Tim away. They let us know that Evie had already been notified of what had happened. "How did he get in here?" Richard asked after they'd left. "Someone had to have helped him get in," I answered. "We'll have to find out who." "The possibility exists that he has more than one accomplice," Asher stated. "I suggest that we all retire to my apartments for safety's sake, until we can discover them and deal with them."
Oh goody! I was finally going to get to see Asher's "lair." The trip there was mostly in silence. When we finally arrived at what Asher called his "apartments," I was impressed with the size of the place. As expected, most of the complex was underground, which was a neat trick in Central Florida. A still sleeping Kimmy was deposited in a comfortable set of rooms. I was worried about her. No one was sure of how contagious ursine lycanthropy was. Werebears just weren't that common. Jean-Claude, Anita, and Richard excused themselves and retired to their respective rooms. Asher told me he'd had a room prepared for me in his *private* apartment...for security reasons, of course. Uh-huh. I was very suspicious of his motives, but I let him lead me there anyway.
I looked around his sitting room, afraid to touch anything. It was completely furnished with antiques. Lots of gild on most of the stuff. I felt like I was in a museum, despite the fact that all of the items showed evidence of current use. "How do you like it?" Asher asked me. "It's amazing," I replied as I turned to face him. He removed his ornate coat, draping it across a chair back and proceeded to unbutton the gold vest, watching me intently the whole time. "What are you doing?" I asked nervously. "Merely removing some of these accoutrements, cherie. They get a trifle warm after a while," his voice was bland, but the look in his eyes was almost smoldering.
"I thought you weren't effected by temperatures," I stated, feeling the beginnings of an adrenaline rush. I wasn't sure what was happening, but my body was preparing for flight. He continued to peel out of the vest. Then he untied the lace cravat at his throat and threw it aside, freeing the linen shirt to gape open. "Au contrare, ma rose d'acier. While it is true that cold does not particularly bother me, HEAT..." (I could feel the heat in his voice, like hot water washing over my skin, and he was instantly at my side, arms surrounding me, whispering the last in my ear) "...most *definitely* effects me."