Choke
Chess
Plopping down at the bar to listen in on the conversation between India and her table mates was a good plan.
They’re not quiet, though they’re not overly loud and ridiculous because it would be uncouth.
That makes for an easy eavesdropping session before I attempt to ingratiate myself enough to glean info.
Of course, I’m still sitting here sipping my drink and listening while Ren is off doing his ‘ooh-la-la’ Batman impression, but being cautious is in my nature.
Bloodstone beat that into me, and I use my semi-invisible ability to succeed all the time.
“Darling, you simply must winter in Zurich this year. We’re inviting a group of hopefuls from the West Coast, and it will be extremely amusing. Everyone knows the training out there is different, and when they ‘audition’ we’ll get to see why nothing will ever compare to live theater, yes?”
Ouch. I guess even the smaller preds embrace the cruelty of their families at this level.
I can’t imagine being so bored that tricking desperate people into humiliating themselves unknowingly is how you get your kicks.
Perhaps that’s because the twins’ Nonna kept me close so the Raj and his ilk couldn’t fuck up my moral compass or my body?
I don’t know, but I definitely need to thank her if we ever see her again.
She wasn’t perfect, but she did better than most of these fuckers in Council families did.
“India, didn’t your father say not to play with your food in public?
” The voice is smug, and when I glance at the mirror on the far wall, I note that it’s a smarmy-looking guy with pointed features.
He’s dressed like a dandy, which is odd as fuck, but he’s also got the air of someone who knows they are important enough to question true wealth.
Taking a deep breath, I inhale, hoping to catch a whiff of him or the other three preds at India’s table.
Smug Guy has a brisk scent that I believe is avian—eagle, perhaps?
The others are a musky mix that I think is black bear, lynx, and otter.
It’s interesting that she has surrounded herself with varied apex companions, but only one is top of the food chain level.
The bear is a stocky female, while the others are all male, and for a moment, I wonder if maybe this is India’s flock.
Has the favored Shirdal heir taken a flock of mates and kept it secret with playacting? That would be some piping hot gossip—no wonder she’s on a train.
I shake my head, calming my natural cat curiosity as the possibilities whirl.
Celebrity gossip, even just in the arts, is one of the guilty pleasures I indulge, but now isn’t the time.
How I can use this as leverage is far more useful to consider right now.
Even if I’m mistaken, the very whisper of that could echo scandal across the Prednet if Fitz helps me plant the seeds.
Unlike the gargoyle, my ‘in’ may just be to pretend to be clueless and let them try to coax me into keeping my mouth shut.
Smiling to myself, I gesture for the bartender to bring me another drink.
When he returns, I lean in, whispering conspiratorially, “Is that the famous India Shirdal? I had no idea she’d finally settled down with a flock of her own!
People will be jawing all over the world, especially because the company will have to name her the official heir instead of that exiled sister! ”
That should do it.
The guy’s eyes widen, and he gives me a knowing expression. “I wondered if such a thing could be true. Madame has been with them since she boarded, as far as I know. They are not sharing cabins, though, so perhaps it is still under wraps?”
I nod as I swirl the ice in my glass. “It would cause quite a few suitors to go into mourning, I’m certain. Plus, it would limit her opportunities among the hoi polloi when she is looking for companionship in those who would dream of entering her circle.”
The bartender snorts. “Fancy way of saying she wouldn’t be able to coax special favors out of ingenues, huh? I can’t say I disagree, but I doubt many of them became stars, anyway.”
It takes control not to curl my lip at his casual dismissal of the suggestion of trafficking young hopefuls for influence.
I know many preds accept the ways of the extremely wealthy class as just how things are, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.
I’m sure my adoptive family and my Angel’s are in on plenty of such schemes; that knowledge is bothersome enough without hearing normal preds act like it’s not a big deal.
Our entire society is so incredibly fucked up, and this is why I love hiding in academia with the twins rather than being anywhere near the jet-set.
“I guess it is,” I mutter as I speak just a hair louder.
“But if it’s true, then it affects a lot of businesses around the Shirdal Empire, I’d say.
Film, stage, music—they do it all, and that father has been hanging on for years waiting for the wild child to settle.
The firstborn being unable to bear more heirs really set them back, especially when they had to exile her for making it public. ”
I don’t enjoy spreading that story about Henny, but it’s well-known and has been for a long time.
“I heard she is able, but she’s not made for business,” my gossiping buddy says as he wipes the bar. “Well, I mean, I read it online, but you can’t really verify that stuff. Never known anyone who went to her school before it blew up, though. Too highbrow for the likes of me and mine.”
“Mmm, well, she’s still moved to Cappie, right?
Probably good for her to be in school if she’s delicate-minded.
” I bob my brows, acting as if having an anxiety disorder disqualifies people from being useful.
That’s what this dude is hinting at, and I’m just hoping something we say will get one of India’s crowd to come over for a chat.
“I guess they will pull the younger model to settle down and propagate pretty soon, then.”
A chair scrapes and I grin a little into my glass.
That must have done it; I feel the approach of what I believe is the lynx.
I don’t know anything about him—only that he and three other preds are circling the Shirdal woman carefully.
When he finally reaches me, the smaller cat hops on the barstool next to me, calling for my drink-slinging friend to come over.
I brace myself for the first round of cautious small talk as he orders a Manhattan.
“Well hello there, friend,” the lynx says.
I turn to face him, taking in the longish, smooth beard, round glasses, immaculate three-piece suit, and scally cap that matches perfectly. This guy looks like he’d fit in at any college, and he’s smiling broadly. “Hello. Nice day for a beautiful train trip through the countryside, yes?”
“Indeed,” the lynx says as he accepts the drink as it’s delivered. “Can I buy you another round? You seem like you’re running low.”
Nodding, I take the last sip of my glass. “Thank you. It’s always a good time for a good drink.”
“Wyatt Duskstride. I was on vacation with my friends for the past week, soaking in the whole ‘vampire’ culture. It’s amusing that humans are so easily convinced that none of us exist because some of their tales no longer do.
At least, I think so.” He chuckles as he takes a drink, and I have to pause to consider how I want to respond.
I have no idea if he just happened to land on something we’re interested in or if that’s how he’s making conversation to lure me to their table.
“I’m Chester Khan; nice to meet you,” I reply as I hold my glass up in a ‘cheers’ motion. “But humans being gullible is nothing new. The history of the Preds once the Treaty was enacted makes this area quite nice for tourism, though.”
His eyes widen, though I don’t think Wyatt wants me to notice that. “Khan, huh? I knew you looked like our type of guy. You should bring that drink over to my friends’ table and sit with us.”
I hedged at giving my real name, but, as usual, it opened all sorts of filthy doors.
“With India Shirdal? Are you sure?” I pretend to be flattered, so he lays it on thick. I don’t want anyone over at the corner table full of targets to think I accepted too easily once we get there. “I’m not on that level, surely…”
“Oh, what level?” Wyatt says, his smile charming as he hops off his stool.
“C’mon, new friend. India gathers all her closest confidantes like this in the beginning.
She or one of us finds interesting people who run in our circles, and we invite them to be part of our group.
If you fit in, you’ll end up on every premier guest list you’ve ever dreamed of—eventually. ”
That’s how they recruit, hmm? It makes sense to play to my ego if they’re hoping to rope me into keeping their secret.
“That sounds like a lot of fun. Lead the way, man,” I finally say as I rub my free hand over the back of my neck. “I could use some fun on this trip.”
Wyatt gives me a supremely pleased, feline smile I recognize immediately. He thinks he’s got me, and his invitation is going to draw me into their web as planned. “Alrighty then, Chester. Follow me.”
I get up, jerking my head at the table we’re headed to, so the bartender knows where I’m headed.
He’ll bill the room anyway, but I don’t enjoy feeling as if I’ve left a bar tab without paying.
I guess I’m just a bit more moral than most of the rich preds in the room, though it’s only by chance.
I could have ended up worse, or dead, so it’s not really a flex to say so.
“So, you’re actually from the island of doom or are you one of the extended family?” The lynx says it casually, and I laugh, purposefully not answering as we approach his friends.
“Wyatt, you’ve made a new compadre!”
I blink as the black bear I identified speaks in a distinctly American, Southern style.
She bats her lashes, and I have to wave silently so I don’t laugh.
The woman is blond, beautiful, and obviously friendly, but she’s huge.
It would be like my Angel as a tiny bunny next to Aubrey in dragon form for me to be close to the size difference of the woman as she seems interested in.
I don’t know that I’d survive—not that she’d survive Fitz and Dolly tearing her into meat confetti. “Hello. I’m Chester.”
“Don’t be shy, buddy,” Wyatt says as he pulls two chairs out for us. “His name is Chester Khan, so he’s one of us. I can’t imagine what kind of family tales this guy has, can you?”
Not liking the amount of pushing this dude is doing on my family name now—time to dance.
“Well, as many as you, I suppose,” I say as I duck my head in faux shyness and shrug.
That gets India’s attention. “Well, Chester, you’d be right. You may know that I am India Shirdal, purveyor of entertainment and future CEO of Shirdal Entertainment & Arts.”
“Everyone knows who you are,” I reply as I pin her with a starry-eyed look that I hope will reel her in. “But I’m sad to say I don’t know anyone else other than Wyatt.”
“Daisy Faust,” the bear says with a brilliant smile. “I’m from the American wing of the family, obviously.”
I nod at her. “Very nice to meet you, Ms. Faust.”
India waves her hand, looking annoyed. “Boring. This is taking too long. That is Hawthorne Hanson, and Claude O’Leary. The four of them often accompany me on my travels abroad. Did Wyatt tell you we came to gawk at the mythical birthplace of the vampire? It’s almost too campy, is it not?”
That’s when I realize that this will not happen quickly, and I’ll have to play along to figure out why this group of Society family members is actually on this train.