Out of the Shadows 018

A 5-star machine-augmented MIDNIGHT'S WAR novel

The black Tesla that awaited him was silent and sleek, its windows tinted to an opacity that he suspected was beyond legal limits. The driver, another handsome young man cut from the same cloth as Medici’s security detail, nodded respectfully but did not speak as Elliott slid into the rear seat.

“Where are we headed?” Elliott asked, though he suspected he wouldn’t receive an answer.

“The Ansonia, sir,” the driver replied, surprising him with both his forthcoming response and his distinctly American accent. “The gathering begins at nine.”

The Ansonia. Elliott knew it only as one of Manhattan’s historic landmarks, a luxurious apartment building on the Upper West Side that dated back to the early 1900s. As the car glided uptown through the evening traffic, he found himself mentally reviewing what little he’d learned about vampire social structure in the weeks since his transformation began.

The Houses, as Medici had explained, consisted of thirteen representatives from the thirteen surviving original bloodlines—the “Old Families,” as they were sometimes called. Each bloodline had its own territories, its own hierarchies, and its own particular customs, and ruled over a number of minor houses and sub-branches. Together, the Thirteen Houses formed a loose confederation that had governed vampire society for nearly six millennia under the guidance of the High Council.

“Think of it as something that falls somewhere between the United Nations and a collection of mafia families,” Medici had told him with a thin smile. “We cooperate when necessary, compete when we find it advantageous, and occasionally go to war with each other when diplomacy fails.”

The last serious war, Elliott had learned, had ended in 1918, conveniently masked by the Spanish flu pandemic that had claimed millions of human lives. The peace that followed had been largely maintained through a carefully balanced system of mutual deterrents and shared interests.

But now that delicate balance was threatened by Elliott’s research—research that could potentially expose their existence to the human world. Tonight’s gathering was not merely a social introduction; it was a strategic assessment of the threat he posed and an opportunity for the various houses to evaluate the newest member of House Medici.

The Tesla pulled up to the grandiose entrance of the Ansonia, its Beaux-Arts façade dramatically lit against the night sky. Before Elliott could reach for the door handle, it swung open to reveal Sophia, looking elegant in a simple black dress that somehow managed to appear both severe and sensual.

“Right on time, Elliott” she said with a professional smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Follow me.”

She led him through the ornate lobby, nodding to the doorman who watched them pass with the blank expression of someone who had learned long ago that discretion was the better part of employment. They took a private elevator that required a key to access, ascending in silence to one of the building’s upper floors.

The elevator opened directly into a sumptuously appointed foyer, where two men in dark suits stood guard with the same preternatural stillness that Elliott was beginning to recognize as a hallmark of vampire security personnel.

“Mr. Grahame,” one of them acknowledged with a slight bow. “They’re waiting for you in the grand salon.”

Elliott followed Sophia through a set of double doors into a vast room that seemed to belong to another era. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over antique furniture, Persian rugs, and walls lined with paintings that, he suspected, were originals by masters whose names were familiar to any student of art history. The ceiling, at least twenty feet high, featured an intricate fresco depicting what appeared to be classical gods and goddesses engaged in various pursuits both martial and amorous.

And standing beneath this celestial tableau were approximately thirty individuals, all impeccably dressed, all watching his entrance with expressions ranging from curiosity to open skepticism.