Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night.
Strephon Bellman, a semi-immortal half-fae, has been commissioned by the Queen of the Faerie to investigate fae activity in the city. To that end, he has cultivated the acquaintance of Melchior, a powerful faerie lord who has taken over a computer company.
Meanwhile, Strephon’s friend, Miss True, and her roommate Cecily have discovered magic and danger at the Club Cyba-Netsu, a night spot owned by a powerful vampire.
Dark Redemption is an Urban Gothic Fantasy which will be running in weekly installments Wednesday evenings. Previous installments can be found linked at the Dark Redemption Index.
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Chapter 27: Business Luncheon
In Which Strephon is wined and dined and Miss Cecily accepts an invitation.
"I recommend the Veal Frommage a la Asteroth," Melchior Dusk said. "Not up to the standards of the Faerie Court, of course, but quite passable for mortal viands."
Strephon had never been to the Chez R'lyeth before. It was a trendy restaurant occupying the top floor of the Trinity Building in downtown Redemption. It served only the hautest of cuisine and offered a spectacular view of the downtown skyline and of the castle in the Old Town.
"I've become quite accustomed to mortal food," Strephon said after the waiter left with their order. "The problem with faerie food is that after a century you're hungry again." Melchior chuckled politely and Strephon then added, "May I ask why you invited me here?"
"Right to business, eh?"
"I gathered this was a business lunch."
Melchior put his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. "Have you considered my offer?"
Actually, Strephon had nearly forgotten about it; the last few days had been so crammed with events and distractions. "Well," he said, "it is intriguing, but I'm a little bit vague on a few important points. Not to seem gauche, but what exactly are you offering me? What do I gain by joining with you?"
If he expected Melchior to be offended, he was disappointed. "You gain my patronage," he said. "That is no small matter."
"In the Faerie Court I'm sure it is not, but I make my home here in the Mortal Realm. I'm afraid I have little use for Fae politics."
"But my dear Strephon, I have influence in this world too and am gaining more. I understand you had some difficulty with a witch named Morrigan last night. I could have helped you with her. I would have been happy to take care of the matter."
Strephon colored. He should have known Melchior would hear about that sooner or later. "It was a personal matter," he said. "I preferred to deal with her myself. Perhaps I should say more importantly, what do you expect from me in return for your patronage? I know nothing of computers. I rarely even use the telephone. I have no experience in marketing or management. I can offer nothing to your company."
Melchior laughed. "I can hire technicians and programmers. But you have a unique position in this community which could prove useful to me. You are familiar, of course, with the Council?"
He did not have to specify. The Council was a group of werewolves, vampires and the occasional god or two, which informally governed the magical beings of the city. "I have had dealings with the Council, but not for many years."
"Lady Kurayami is on the Council and she has nominated me for membership." Melchior permitted himself a self-satisfied smirk.
"Congratulations," Strephon said.
"I have yet to be approved. As you no doubt know, there currently are no Fae sitting on the Council. Some of the members are outright hostile to us."
"Well, the Fae have traditionally held themselves above such petty mortal concerns as parliamentary procedure. I take it you do not."
Melchior's smile became more wolfish. "The Fae are going to become a presence in this city. It is only right that they be represented. And who better to represent them?"
Strephon nodded thoughtfully. "A reasonable ambition. And how does my unique position fit in with your goals?"
"I want you to accompany me to the next Council meeting. Speak a few words on my behalf."
"I have not had contact with the Council in decades. I hardly know who is on it anymore."
"You met some of them at my party last week. And the Council knows you. You are respected as a long-time resident of the city and regarded as an honorable man. You carry more weight than perhaps you suspect."
Strephon pondered. Shallow flattery, of course, but how should he respond? The notion of nominating this cad for even a library card repelled him. On the other hand, Melchior was going to proceed with his plans with or without the Council's blessings; perhaps it would indeed be better to have him out in the open within the Council's sight rather than plotting in the darkness. And how better to gain Melchior's confidence enough to uncover those plots than to aid his social-climbing.
"Since you put it that way..." Strephon said, "...I accept."
* * * * *
Cecily turned over in bed and instantly regretted it. The harsh afternoon sun filtered through her amber windowshade in her room onto her face. She winced and covered her eyes. "Answer the damn phone, Sandy!" she shouted.
Cassandra didn't answer. That's right; she was still at work. Damn.
The phone kept ringing. Why didn't whoever it was just give up? Her bones ached; her head throbbed; she felt like death. She wanted to go back to sleep, but the damn damn phone wouldn't damn let her. Finally she pulled a blanket over her head and stumbled out of bed for the kitchen.
She was having such a pleasant dream too. Before the phone woke her, she was dreaming about the night before. She had gone back to the Club Cyba-Netsu. she had asked Cassandra to join her, but Sandy said she had an important interview with some old bag from the Redemption Culture Thingummy. Cecily suspected that she was too scared to go. The encounter with the ghost the other night really squicked her. It sort of squicked Cecily too, but she enjoyed a bit of excitement in life.
It was funny how the club had changed. Cecily had been there several times, both alone and with friends, but since meeting the ghost everything seemed different; like there were all these dark and mysterious currents running just underneath the surface that she had never been aware of before. No, it wasn't the ghost, it was Kurayami. Meeting Miss Kurayami had opened her eyes and now Cecily saw a whole new world; a world of the night.
Cecily saw Miss Kurayami when she entered the Cyba-Netsu. She was drinking with a small knot of people, male and female, in a dark corner of the club. Some wore dark glasses; some seemed to be wearing blood-red contact lenses. All were devastatingly beautiful and possessed the same aura of mystery and cool. Kurayami motioned Cecily over to their table.
She almost turned around and left right then and there. Something about Kurayami was so intimidating. She told herself she was being silly. After all, she wanted excitement, right?
Cecily could not recall exactly how long she spent with Kurayami and her friends. Somehow, being accepted in this elite circle was intoxicating. Well, to be honest, the Sloe Screw Against the Wall she ordered probably had something to do with that too. She tried calling her hostess "Kurayami-san" the way the others did, except she got a bit befuddled and it came out "Kurayama-mama-sama". That triggered an unfortunate spasm of giggles, but Kurayami did not seem the least offended. She merely gave that serene smile, like a worldly Buddha.
"Were you hoping to meet any ghosts tonight?" Kurayami teased.
Cecily flushed. "I don't know. I guess I was looking for something dangerous."
The others chuckled and exchanged significant glances behind their dark glasses. One of them, a dark-haired male with a neatly-groomed soul patch, smiled and said, "Maybe you've found it." There was a challenge in his voice and that drew Cecily's attention like a magnet.
"Oh really?" Cecily tried to keep her tone light. "Somehow I doubt Kurayami-san would permit anything really bad to happen to me."
"Of course not," Kurayami purred. "Nothing bad ever happens to any of the customers in my club. Unless, of course, they want it to."
For a moment Cecily sobered. Something about that casual remark carried a distinct undertone of menace. Cecily became suddenly aware that she was alone in a group of strangers. But she became aware of something else, too. She did want it to happen to her, even though she was not sure what it was. Kurayami was not talking about sex or anything mundane like that; it was something else; and whatever it was, Cecily wanted to experience it.
The guy with the soul patch--Phillipe, his name was--took her hand. "Come with me," he said. And she did. He led her to a dim, private corner in the back of the club and drew her body close to his. She felt his breath, cool against her neck; then his kiss. By the time it occurred to her she ought to be afraid, his teeth were already sinking into her flesh. By then it was too late.
She remembered little of the rest. They made love, of course; wild, savage, desperate love; but that came afterwards. What she remembered most was melting in his arms as he drew her soul into his.
The phone was still ringing. Cecily groped her way to the telephone and picked up the receiver. "Unk? Hooizzit? ... Cassandra? She's not here. ... Huh?" She pulled the blanket from her face and brightened slightly. "Oh... Stephen. You're the wheelchair guy. ... Yeah, I'm sure you can come over. Lemme write a note for her."
Cecily fumbled about the kitchen for a piece of paper and a pen. The best she could do was a grease pencil, so she scrawled a message with it on the refrigerator door. "Seven o'clock? Okay. I'll let her know."
She hung up the phone and stumbled back to bed. Sun would be setting soon; then it would be dark.
Then she could see Phillipe again.
NEXT: Comparing Notes
