5. Shemaiah
SHEMAIAH
There’s a tediousness to new moon parties, a game that always makes us the victors.
Disinterested in it all, I watch the revelers descend into bacchanal delights.
Inhibitions are undone like trouser buttons and dresses.
Bare bodies writhe, kissing, touching, sucking, fucking amid the alcohol and the drugs that undress propriety.
I’m bored. New moon parties lost their luster a long time ago, but I’m tied to this routine. I need the blood the prey offers.
Jocelin Renner, a wealthy socialite, spreads herself across a chaise lounge amid the revelers.
Graham Pinkerton, an entrepreneur in imports and exports across Prisma, kneels on the floor, making her moan from whatever his mouth is doing beneath her full skirt.
Thankfully, I can’t see it from where I sit next to her, fully clothed in my formal attire, but her exuberance is as loud and clear as his.
I’m but a prop in their tableau, my mouth attached to her wrist as I drink blood and release venom, heightening her pleasure.
She won’t remember what I’ve done, not completely.
She’ll remember me, our flirting, perhaps that I brought her pleasure along with her chosen partner for the night.
But as drunk on alcohol and endorphins as she is now, my bite will be nothing more than a hazy dream.
I release Miss. Renner’s wrist, sliding my thumb over the holes my fangs made, spreading the venom evenly for rapid healing, then licking the remnants of blood from her skin.
She pays me no mind, so deep in the throes of her own bliss, which is good.
I don’t feel like pretending to be part of this story.
When I stand, she doesn’t notice, her hands gripping the lump of Pinkerton’s head. Her pleasure-filled cries follow me as I melt into the crowd, a harmony to the symphony of orgasms blending with the loud music.
The dais where my father used to hold court, as if he were a king presiding over these parties, is gone.
We haven’t told anyone about his death yet, only that he’s indisposed tonight.
I cautioned Noah to read our father’s will and speak with the lawyers before any public announcement.
Hammish was known for his vindictiveness.
He probably anticipated the possibility of his murder and established contingencies and consequences for the children he hated.
Since Noah has yet to find the will—partly because he’s been too busy fucking his new bride—we’ve made excuses for our father’s absence.
We also invited a smaller group than normal.
The conservatory isn’t the largest room in the house, but it’s big enough for our purposes tonight.
There are chairs and loveseats, plush round benches set up around an open portion of the floor where guests can dance.
Ivory wax drips from candles in floor stands shaped like dead trees placed at even intervals around the room.
The wall closest to the house hosts little alcoves lined with heavy black curtains.
When the party’s over, the curtains will be opened and fastened with heavy gold cording, decorated with thick tassels.
For now, they obscure varied combinations of lovers.
Mrs. Darning will lead a troop of cleaners through tomorrow.
On a bench near the door, Zarah’s fangs are deep in a young man, her face lost in rapture and the satisfaction of blood. I hurriedly look away, certain her dress is hiding more than I want to consider. My sister deserves her freedom after what she’s gone through, but I’d rather not witness it.
Jafeth has Mrs. Potter, the head nurse at The New Essik Sanatorium, pressed against a window while her husband, a top man at one of the largest banks in New Essik, has his tongue down the throat of some politician across the room.
Noah and his wife are hidden somewhere. Exhibitionism never appealed to him the way it does my other siblings. He’s also inordinately possessive of Ruby.
Glancing away, I search for something—someone—I hope I won’t find. She shouldn’t be amidst this spectacle. Long hair the color of sunlight catches my attention, and my hearts thump, but the woman turns, revealing a wrinkled face and pointed nose. Not Pippa.
“There you are. We’ve been looking for you.” Anna startles me, taking my arm from behind. Her eyes are glassy, and she sways a little. Is she drunk?
To her right, a wide-eyed Kay twists her hands in her skirts, and my hearts sink that it’s just the two of them.
Ridiculous. Pippa said she wasn’t coming.
And she shouldn’t be here. None of these women should.
They’re too ill for the festivities of a new moon.
From Anna’s inebriation and the look on Kay’s face, I’d say they’re too green, as well.
“Allow me to escort you to your rooms. I’m sure you’re quite exhausted. ”
“No,” Anna whines. “We want to stay and dance. Dance with me, Shem.”
“Forgive me, but I’m ready to retire.” The moment the words are out, I realize they’re true. I’m done with this frivolous party.
“Don’t you need to… drink?” Kay whispers, her eyes straying to Zarah.
“I’ve had my fill.” Not quite true. I can still feel the hunger nipping my gut, but I’ve had enough to appease the monster within for now.
Anna sticks out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “I wanted you to bite me.”
The thought grates, not to mention the scent of her illness repels me, but I try to make my voice gentle as I say, “I think you’re intoxicated enough for tonight.”
“Next time?” She dips her chin and gives me a coy smile. “Promise?”
I make no promises, but also don’t deny her. It’ll be easier to get her out of here if she’s not making a scene over wanting my bite.
“Is it just the two of you?” I ask.
“Yes,” Kay says at the same time as Anna says, “Why?”
“No reason.” I take Anna’s arm to lead her away, expecting Kay to follow.
“Would it be alright if… might I… stay?” Kay asks when we reach the door that leads back into the main house.
This is no place for a girl of barely eighteen, but that’s not all she is.
She’s also a woman who will likely die in the next year.
I won’t dictate where she goes or what she does.
Anna is another story. She’s barely awake on my arm, and not all the men here are honorable enough to gain Anna’s consent, especially considering their own state of inebriation.
I sigh and encroach on my sister’s meal. “Zarah.”
She looks up from the neck of the man on whom she’s dining, her mouth coated in a macabre smile. “Brother?”
“Miss Hoff would like to stay. Would—”
“I’d be delighted.” Zarah holds out a hand to Kay before I finish my request. She doesn’t bother wiping the blood from her mouth. This might be a bad idea, but it’s better than leaving the young woman in Jafeth’s care.
With Anna leaning heavily on my arm, I guide her out of the party.
“Finally,” she slurs. “We’re alone.”
“Please don’t read anything into it, Miss Graves.” Truly, don’t. “You need a good night’s sleep.”
“And you can join me.” She places a hand on my torso.
I stop, putting more distance between us, but keeping her close enough that she won’t topple over without my support. “I’m not interested.”
“How do you know without a taste?” She blinks slowly and leans precariously to the left.
“Fuck.” I swoop in and lift her into my arms as she falls.
Passed out.
Once I’ve laid Anna in her bed to sleep off the effects of her inebriation, I linger in the hallway just outside Pippa’s door. Listening. Just to make sure she’s alright. It’s quiet. She’s sleeping, I’m sure, as she should be.
Annoyed by my boredom, I don’t return to the conservatory.
Instead, I drift through the house. There's a scent I’m following.
A lingering haze of… lemongrass with a hint of sweetness, slightly tinged with something I can’t identify.
I pass through the halls and slip past the music room.
New moon energy winds me up, as if I were a mechanism, a clockwork toy filled with gears and cogs, and tonight I’m wound too tight. I need something to unwind me.
I turn toward the library, where the scent is strongest. Hopefully, losing myself in a good book will offer the solace I’m seeking.
I’ve always been a reader. As a boy, I escaped there, choosing to read over anything else.
Noah, while he enjoyed reading, would usually pick science books I wasn’t interested in, or he’d try to get me to do experiments with him.
He was always taking things apart and attempting to put them back together, an activity I didn’t enjoy the way he did.
Zarah would beg me to play outside with her, pretending we were explorers.
She never liked being cooped up, even before our father locked her away.
Jafeth followed me around like an exuberant puppy except when I went to the library.
He hated the quiet solitude. Over time, it became the one place my siblings rarely followed.
The library was my shelter in the chaos of living with my father.
But even now that he’s gone, my internal chaos remains.
A dim light flickers into the hallway from the open double doors of my favorite room. With a tilt of my head, I listen and take a deep breath. Inside, a single heart beats, and the scent of verbena and fresh-cut grass fills the air, laced with a bitter note.
Pippa.
My hearts suspend for a moment, crash, then race. My body floods with anticipation, muscles tensing for the chase, claws extending. I stalk to the doorway, seeking what my instincts crave.
She’s in my wing-backed chair. Her head is pressed against the inside wing of the dark green brocade fabric, eyes closed, mouth relaxed in sleep.
A knitted afghan—the one I brought down after I saw her shivering yesterday—is draped over her lap.
The book she was reading rests on top, her finger holding her place.
It’s as if she closed her eyes for a moment and drifted somewhere deeper.