The spectacular visitors were gathered in an area of damask couches and armchairs to the left of the harpsichord and in front of where the orchestra usually assembled, ranged comfortably about and in hushed conversation with Seth and Gregory, or so it appeared. Sevraine and Marius stood to one side, eyes following me as I entered. And from the far door, in came David Talbot with Gremt, Teskhamen, and Armand.

Armand came up to me, and put his hand on my arm. He sent his message telepathically but decisively. I am telling you, be prepared to destroy them one and all. Then he moved away as if he’d said nothing to me, and given me no sign.

It seemed all the Children of the Night had dressed for the occasion in the usual assortment of gowns, thawbs, and three-piece suits. I was in my usual red velvet and lace, and Armand wore the same extravagant style in shades of blue. Only our tall riding boots looked out of place, but these boots had become the common wear of all those who regularly took to the air, and it was not at all strange to see a blood drinker dressed to the nines, save for muddy boots, and so it was the case now.

I wondered how all this calculated and lavish eighteenth-century atmosphere appeared to our guests—decadent or beautiful, offensive or tasteful.

The eight visitors were in fashionable sports attire, the males in tweed or leather jackets, and clean pressed jeans, while the two women wore long sleek form-fitting black dresses, with spectacular and very bright twenty-four-karat gold jewelry and strappy gleaming high-heeled shoes. All appeared to be slightly cold, and trying to politely conceal it. I ordered the heat in the room to be increased immediately.

All rose when I approached—and as I made my way across the polished parquet floor slowly, I ascertained two things at once: their minds were impenetrable by telepathy, which Arion had already indicated, and they seemed in no way instinctively frightened of us as mortals usually are and they did not exude either distrust or menace. In sum, all the tiny indications of aggression in humans were absent from them. No human being can feel the texture of our skin, or look on it closely in bright light, without experiencing some sort of frisson. Sometimes the instinctive fear is so great the human panics and backs away whether intending to or not. But this distinguished party was surrounded by us, and they appeared to be experiencing absolutely nothing hormonal or instinctual or visceral.

They certainly weren’t humans. I didn’t even think they were mammals, though that is what they appeared to be—two women and six men.