Page 75 of Almost Midnight

It was dark in their corner of the garden, at least.

He put a warm thrall into his voice. It instantly grew soothing, persuasive.

Demanding.

“Why don’t we go for a walk, my dearest lady, just the two of us, and discuss it?” he suggested in a low purr.

His French over the years had grown impeccable, of course.

He wore a gold and turquoise brocaded tunic over silk leggings and a ruffled white shirt with long sleeves. As was the style, at least in court, he also wore a large hat with a white feathered plume, and a powdered wig. The day’s fashions made his pale skin stand out less, at least. He powered his face so it would look the same as everyone else’s, though, and absolutely hated the feel of all that crap on his skin.

The idea of having to wear these ridiculous get-ups every day, and not just for a day or two, once or twice a year, made him think seriously about whether he and Jem might go to India, or possibly Siam, or maybe Burma or somewhere on the southern Malay Penninsula.

They’d even considered Japan, although if Nick knew his Japanese history (which he didn’t verywell,sadly), it wasn’t a great time to be there, either.

Maybe they reallyshouldgo to the Americas.

It really was a shit time in history though, in most parts of the world.

Really, they would have to make compromises wherever they landed.

Still, maybe he could put off the inevitable for alittlebit longer.

He was feeding on the woman behind one of the thick hedges, filling her head with thoughts of why it would be better to leave Dalejem and Nick alone, and convince the King to do the same, and how she should tell all of them that they were likely pirates and possibly had impure blood, possibly even Roma or even Jewish blood, when a sharp intake of breath made him break off his bite and raise his head.

Jem stood there, his face bright red under the alcohol, rich food, and the pale powder he also wore. His eyes were glassy, but absolutely livid.

“You unimaginable prick,” Jem slurred at him.

Nick stared at his mate.

Briefly, he had to stifle the abrupt impulse to laugh.

Evenheknew what a terrible mistake that would be, and how much more likely it would prolong the fight, rather than diffuse it.

“You woman-lusting, blood-sharing, piece of shitcheater––”Jem slurred, louder.

Nick couldn’t control himself at that.

Maybe he was a little too drunk himself.

Either way, he did laugh, and unfortunately, quite loudly,

* * *

“––think he might be waking up,”a soft voice said over him.

Nick’s body jerked, and his head immediately hurt.

His side hurt so badly, he had to bite his tongue to keep from crying out. He blinked into much harder lights, artificial lights that seemed to want to pierce through his eyes and into his skull and brain.

Slowly, his vision came back into focus.

Even so, when he blinked, he was briefly back at the party, in a garden with tall hedges and flower-covered bushes and hanging lanterns.

He blinked again, and the garden faded.

Dalejem’s livid face disappeared.

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