Chapter 11
Damon was smiling to himself as he entered the private box he kept reserved at the Teatro dell'Opera. They had all been taken prior to his arrival in Rome, but some hefty monetary persuasion had quickly remedied that. He'd always enjoyed the opera. The modern theatres and operas couldn't begin to compare with those of his time, but he still found pleasure in them none the less.
As a young man Damon had discovered the delights of a private box when it came to sharing the company of pretty young ladies. They were a lot less likely to shield themselves behind protests of virtue and modesty when there were no other eyes watching. As a vampire Damon's desire for a private box was for a similar purpose except he happened to pay more attention to the slender throat of his companion than had interested him as a mortal.
Tonight's performance was "La Boheme". The opera wasn't created until three hundred years after he was born and he probably would have appreciated it more when he was alive. While lacking in artistic skill, as a young man he'd embodied the care-free lifestyle without rules. Damon had paid no attention to the normal restrictions of noble life when he was alive.
Not that he was here for the show.
When the note from Meredith arrived at the apartment he rented in the city, Damon hadn't been surprised. He'd known that she would come to her senses; she was too practical to ignore such a golden opportunity. Acting as his personal consort was the only way she could feasibly last longer than five minutes in the lair of the Dark Veritas.
A place amongst the Dark Veritas, Damon thought to himself with satisfaction as he took a seat. At last. After three hundred years of wanting to gain admittance to the most prestigious vampire society his wait was nearly at an end.
Damon wanted to join the Dark Veritas ever since he'd discovered their existence. That had been around his two-hundredth year as a vampire. They'd essentially laughed in his face. He was just a child they'd proclaimed as though two centuries of immortality was a pittance.
Two hundred more years passed before Damon tried again. By then his "age" had no longer been his biggest detraction. Lack of a human companion was the reason they rejected him.
After that, angry and frustrated, Damon had convinced himself the Dark Veritas didn't deserve him as a member. It made him furious every time he'd thought about it because he was perfect for them. He shared their disdain for humans, their insatiable thirst for power, and appreciation for all the best things in their undead existence. Immortality ought to mean surrounding yourself with whatever you desired.
Lack of a human pet was the only thing that held him back from joining the crème de la crème of vampire society.
Damon could have picked anyone off the street as Meredith had pointed out, but that was risky. Even if he'd used mind powers on them, that didn't guarantee they could be trusted. In the underworld of the Dark Veritas pets were nearly always present, making them privy to nearly all of their Master's secrets. Without the proper incentive, aside from pleasure and telepathic suggestion, they might easily slip up and reveal something best left unspoken.
Damon needed someone who didn't require a lot of persuasion to be controlled. Someone who would die to keep his secrets because they had their own to preserve; someone he could exercise more than mind powers over.
As if in answer to all his wishes, along came the last person he'd expected might qualify as his play thing. Meredith Sulez had stepped back into his world, replete not only with secrets of her own, but an entire clandestine agenda.
The lights in the theatre dimmed suddenly, distracting Damon from his thoughts. Quiet fell over the audience as they waited for the opera to begin. He could still hear their breathing and heartbeats—the heightened senses of a vampire were sometimes nuisance—but he was able to tune them out. The golden curtain was raised and the first players, already on stage, began to introduce the story.
Damon waited a half hour into the performance before he summoned Meredith. He wanted to make her sweat a little, waiting and wondering if he'd decided to come. If they were going to enter into this arrangement she would need to learn some humility.
It didn't take long for the usher to locate her. Damon knew that she would be sitting in the box the Bradfords kept reserved for when they attended the opera. They'd adopted Meredith's alter ego as their latest protégé; they were fond of taking young girls under their wing to introduce them into society. Only so they could look good to everyone, of course.
Upon entering the compartment, Meredith glanced over her shoulder at the departing usher with a look of blatant longing. The red velvet curtain that covered the entrance swished closed, forcing her to turn and face Damon. He had to admire her composure. Meredith stood with her shoulders back, her chin held high, and her expression calmly composed.
Meredith was striking in a sleeveless black satin dress that showed off her slender figure and shapely legs to great advantage. Having an afterlife had afforded Damon the opportunity to become familiar with a countless amount of beautiful women. For some of them it took work to maintain their looks, but Meredith was a natural beauty. The only make-up Meredith wore was a touch of cherry-hued lip gloss. Her complexion was flawless and her eyes, those of Spanish dancer, were captivating all on their own.
"Hello, Meredith," Damon said. "You look lovely."
"Thank you," Meredith replied absently. She took a seat in the chair beside Damon's, but kept her gaze averted from his initially. Staring straight ahead at the stage without really seeing it, Meredith took a moment to steel her nerves. She could feel Damon's midnight black eyes boring into her, unnerving in their intensity.
Just as the silence in the small compartment was on the verge of becoming awkward, Meredith forced herself to turn towards Damon. It took will power to force herself to look into those beautiful, unfathomably deep orbs, but she managed.
"First of all," Meredith began coolly, "if you're expecting an apology I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed. I've thought about it and what I said at the time was true to how I felt so I don't regret any of it."
"Neither do I." Damon's lips, ordinarily set with cruel arrogance, curved into a sensual smile. "You're quite breath-taking when you're angry. I especially enjoyed the way your eyes glittered and the beguiling manner in which your chest—"
"Enough!" Meredith held up a hand to stop him, immensely grateful she wasn't prone to blushing. "You can save the Casanova act for someone who can stomach it. This whole thing is going to be difficult enough without having to fight nausea at every turn."
"I'm going to take that to mean you've taken a renewed interest in my proposal?"
"Tragically, yes," Meredith said. "Whether I like it or not—which I don't just for the record—it looks like you were right. Congratulations. You'll have to forgive me for my lack of enthusiasm over you being the only thing standing between me and death."
Reaching into her purse, a silver clutch, Meredith took something out and handed it to Damon. "I brought this to prove I'm committed…It's also a sort of personal collateral to keep me from running screaming for the hills." It was meant as a joke, but it lacked any sort of ironic inflection. Nor could Meredith bring herself to smile. "You might recognize it if you're as familiar with the Dark Veritas as you say."
Damon recognized it immediately. There was no mistaking the raven turned in profile, silhouetted against a bare sliver of a moon. While there weren't a lot of vampire societies, there were enough that rings or trinkets of some sort were necessary to distinguish the members of one society from another. It was surreal that the ring he'd coveted for hundreds of years had just been handed to him by a human girl.
"Ah, this must have belonged to your grandfather." Damon took a moment to admire the way the lone garnet eye sparkled even in the dim lights of the theatre. "What a fascinating family history you have. You should be proud. Granddaughter of the only mortal invited to be a member of the Dark Veritas."
"Oh yes, how my heart bursts with pride," Meredith said wryly. "My joy over having to clean up his mess can hardly be contained."
"So you really think you can pull this off then?" Damon leaned towards her, looking her over with an expression of keen interest. "One human girl pitted against an entire society of vampires," he mocked, "several of whom are Old Ones. You're either very brave or incredibly stupid."
Silver daggers of lightning flashed in Meredith's eyes. "I didn't ask for your opinion. All I require from you is your assistance to get into the Dark Veritas. Anything beyond that is my problem."
"And you do fully comprehend what it's going to take in order for us to be able to 'assist' each other?" There was no mistaking the significance of the look Damon gave her. Only he could imply something salacious with a single arch of an eyebrow.
"Yes, I'm pretty sure I get it," Meredith said without enthusiasm. "Eternal devotion, adoration, you are my world…I've seen Bonnie obsess over enough guys. I know exactly what it looks like. Just tell me where we begin."
"We can start tonight. There's a private party being held after the opera. Many of society's elite should be there so it will be the perfect opportunity to introduce you as my companion."
"What does another lame party have to do with the Dark Veritas?"
"If you're going to question everything I tell you this endeavor is going to take a lot longer," Damon said.
Meredith rolled her eyes. "I don't have to be your obedient slave until we're amongst the Dark Veritas. Until then I'm afraid you'll just have to humor me."
"Despite their formidable disdain for humans, the Dark Veritas keep a close eye on their current events—especially in Rome since it's the site of their headquarters. They often blend in with mortal society to scout for victims or more companions to add to their collection. Most Dark Veritas have only one companion, but it isn't uncommon for a vampire to have an entire harem of beauties."
"Why have only one when you can have a dozen?" Meredith quipped. "So we have to prove we're a couple in human society before the Dark Veritas will buy that I'm your companion?"
"Precisely. If we haven't been seen publicly then show up claiming you're my pet that would automatically raise suspicion."
"I'm your—did you just say pet?" The corners of Meredith's mouth twitched, certain he had to be joking.
Damon decided it was time for his future consort to become less attached to her fanciful modern notions of feminism and independence. Both were in non-existent supply where she was headed and he had no intentions of listening to her bemoan their loss throughout the duration of their arrangement.
"You might as well come accustomed to the vocabulary of the Dark Veritas," Damon said derisively. "I thought 'companion' was a kinder euphemism, but to them you are my pet. My play thing. An instrument for my amusement and pleasure. The sooner you accept that the better off we'll both be."
The vaguely amused look vanished from Meredith's face. "Wow, thank you so much for that reminder. I needed that. I was having so much fun that for a second there I completely lost my head and thought we were planning a trip to Euro Disney."
Anger honed Meredith's sarcastic wit until every word was a finely sharpened weapon, Damon noted to himself with a twinge of respect. It also served to chase away any lingering traces of fear from her countenance. This was good. Having a way to distract her could be beneficial, especially when they were in the midst of the Dark Veritas.
Not that her wit was what had initially made Damon think of pursuing Meredith as his pet. There was her situation, of course; having blackmail to use against her was to his advantage. Personal vanity, however, was what had officially sealed the deal for Damon.
To gain admittance into the Dark Veritas, Damon knew that he would have to dazzle everyone not only with his own personal charisma, but also with the beauty of the creature on his arm. Elena would have been more ideal, he'd admitted to himself; fair hair and eyes the shade of lapis lazuli would have created the perfect complement to his darker features. As far as second-runners up went, though, he could have done a lot worse than Meredith Sulez.
A lot worse indeed, Damon mused to himself, drinking in the visage of his companion. With her flawless olive complexion, long silky hair, and eyes that rivaled the depth and richness of mulberry wine, Meredith looked like a model. Her height and composure only served to add to the impression.
While her coloring more closely resembled his own, there were enough differences that Damon was certain they would appear quite striking alongside each other. Where he was pale, she was honeyed bronze. Where he more closely blended in with the Romans, his native countrymen, Meredith stood out because of her exotic good looks.
"What are we still doing waiting around here for?" Meredith was still focused on her tirade, oblivious to Damon's approbation. "Let's go set feminism back a few thousand years!"
And then there was that mouth. Damon smiled to himself, recalling the other reason he'd decided Meredith was exactly what he required. With all the animosity she felt towards him, she would guarantee that he wouldn't grow bored with their charade. He could always fake interest for the benefit of the Dark Veritas, but where was the fun in that?
Damon preferred a challenge and Meredith guaranteed him one. If her kisses contained half as much fire as her barbs this would be a worthwhile uphill battle.
Loud applause saved Damon from having to make any sort of reply to Meredith's indignant diatribe. Glancing over the edge of the balcony he saw that the audience was on their feet while on stage the performers were taking their bows. It must have been a good show, Damon thought to himself, but now it's time for the real entertainment to begin.
It was time to see if Damon had made the right decision after all. He'd partially lied to Meredith about why they were going to the after party together. They would need to establish themselves publicly as a couple, that much was true, but tonight was also a test.
Damon wasn't a fool. Just because Meredith said she could convincingly play the part of his consort didn't mean he believed her. He needed proof. If she was able to convince everyone at the party that they were lovers, he would consider carrying on with the plan they'd agreed on. If not, they would part ways, never to see one another again.
For obvious reasons he'd neglected to make Meredith aware of his full plan.
"Ready?" Damon asked, extending a hand to Meredith.
Much to her credit, Meredith didn't hesitate in taking it. "As I'll ever be," she murmured under her breath.