Kissing Cousins

Kissing Cousins

Introduction: Kissing Cousins Boston, April 4th It was late afternoon when Kay Polerno arrived at the Boston mansion of her mother’s family. She was nervous.

She had met her maternal cousins before, but not often and never in a large group like tonight’s.

She lifted a fingernail to her mouth and then lowered it. They had all been filed, manicured, sculpted and lacquered expertly — not by some beauty salon worker but by her great aunt Isabel. (At least, “great aunt” was what Kay called her. She assumed Isabel had, like her mother, been born with the Milliner name and taken her husband’s name.) Isabel was different from the rest of Kay’s family: She was exotic and graceful and had a glamorous aloofness that Kay associated with the East Coast, and with Europe, and with other places far from her home in Georgia. It was impossible to imagine Isabel blushing, or ending up picked last for volleyball, or going to the bathroom. She had the unchanging perfection of a statue, and Kay was eager to see her again.

Kay also wanted to see her cousin Stewart Milliner, but she wouldn’t tell anyone about that.

Isabel had said she would meet Kay at the party. That made Kay less nervous. Also, Isabel had brought her a beautiful red velvet dress for her birthday, but wearing the dress made Kay both more and less nervous at the same time. Isabel had given her another gift, which was in her stylish matching clutch purse.

“Do you think I’ll need this?” Kay had asked.

“You never know,” Isabel had said, with the secret smile of a worldly woman.

“But at the party? I thought it was just family.…”

“Even with family, you never know.”

Like the dress, the other gift made her both more and less nervous.

The car turned a corner, revealing the Milliner mansion. Everything that comforted her evaporated, and everything that scared her doubled.

She had seen pictures of her mother’s childhood home before, of course, but they couldn’t do it justice. The pictures didn’t convey the barren smell of the land or the way it looked so much like a tombstone with the name worn off.

Stepping out of the car, she glanced toward one end of the house. Had she seen…? Maybe it was just the wind blowing leaves, playing on her nerves to look like flowing white cloth.

Kay had her hand raised to knock on the door when it opened, revealing her cousin — not cousin Stewart, though.

Whereas Stewart was tall and healthy, the figure before her was short and pale with a bent and cringing posture.

“Cousin Kay!” He grinned and actually clapped his hands. He wore a tuxedo that hung awkwardly on him.

He’d already managed to lose a cufflink.

“Hello, uh….” She struggled to remember his name. “Primo! Cousin Primo. It’s, uh, good to see you.”

Primo Giovanni smiled, showing even teeth that were the only perfect thing about him.

“Ah, Cousin Kay! I hoped you’d be invited this year. Come in!”

“This year…?” He ignored her question, grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the house. Looking around, Kay could see people of all ages, formally dressed, mingling, drinking. She saw a few blond heads, but not Stewart’s, and she didn’t see Isabel anywhere.

Kissing Cousins “Here, come with me Kay.” Primo had not released her wrist, and he was pulling her insistently away from the party, toward the west wing of the house.

“I’d really….”

“No, I have something to show you! But you have to hurry!”

She’d seen Primo a few times when they were both children. He’d been ugly, whiny and tantrum-prone then, too. But he was one of the Giovanni, and Kay suspected they were the ones with the money, because even her proud mother deferred to them. Unsure what else to do, Kay went along with Primo, even though something about him, or the night, or the twisting corridors of the house made her skin tighten with fear.

Primo pulled her through a small side doorway and into a garden of thin, spindly plants.

“Primo, I’m not going another step until you tell me what you’re going to show me.”

“I just wanted to show you the sunset. From the top of the hill? I very much want to watch it go down all the way. Please come with me? It’ll be perfect!”

Kay felt that cold sickness in her chest that came from watching someone humiliate himself and not realize it.

He sounded so uncertain and needy that she acquiesced.

At the top of the hill was a cold stone bench under a desiccated tree with only one stout branch that stuck out like the arm of a gallows. Primo sat on the bench and stared, rapt, at the setting sun.

Kay joined him and, after a moment, frowned. Why had he been so insistent that she come with him if he was only going to ignore her? Wide-eyed, he gazed west, like a child watching TV. Her glance followed his for a moment, but even the sunset was ugly: Through the thick gray clouds, the red and purple orb looked tired and bruised.

Kay turned quickly. Had she heard laughter? But there was no one around.

“Primo? Is this what you…?”

“Shh! Not yet. It’s not all the way down.”

Clanbook: Giovanni “So what? I mean, it’s just a sunset. I think they have another one scheduled for tomorrow night, y’know?”

“This could be my last sunset ever,” he replied, still not looking at her.

She sighed, and crossed her legs and arms, but she stayed until it was dark. Primo turned to face her.

“Can we go back now?”

“What’s your hurry?” He put one hand on her knee and the other behind her neck. She pulled away, but not quick enough to avoid feeling his rough lips on hers. She turned her head and tried to pull back, but Primo was stronger than he looked. Despite her struggles, she could not get free.

“Primo! Quit it!”

“No, don’t you see? This will be perfect.”

“Don’t!”

“No, look, this way our son will be a Giovanni,” he said, as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

Kay screamed. Primo flinched but didn’t let go.

“Our son will be single blooded,” he said, shifting his grip. “Kay, I don’t want to die a virgin!”

Their struggles tumbled them off the stone bench, and Kay landed atop her cousin. She felt him trying to roll her onto her back, so she braced her leg against the bench to stop him while her hands struggled with her purse.

Both their hands were tugging at red velvet as Kay finally got her bag open.

She wondered if this was why Isabel had given her a 50,000 volt stun gun. She jammed it hard into Primo’s scrawny arm.

The effect was immediate. He began thrashing and shuddering. Kay pulled away and sprawled on the ground for a moment, breathing heavily. Primo was blubbering, curled up in the fetal position.

“It’s not fair…” he moaned. Kay pushed herself unsteadily to her knees, crawled forward and jammed the electrodes into his thigh.

“Bastard!” she shouted. He screamed too. She stumbled to her feet, then sat on the stone bench. She burst into tears. She regained some of her composure only when she realized that Primo was starting to uncurl.

“Asshole!” Her throat was raw and sore. He was making soft keening sounds as he scrambled away from her on all fours, but she easily caught up with him and kicked him in the side of the head as hard as she could. She kicked and kicked until he stopped moving. æ æ æ æ Although Kay did not know it, her fate — along with that of Primo and of Stewart — was being discussed back at the house at that very moment.

“I think Primo is ready for the change,” Accorri Giovanni said. He tried hard to keep his voice neutral. “He is single-blooded, he has flourished under the Proxy Kiss, and even now he is developing necromantic skill. You know how rare that is before the Embrace….”

Diego Giovanni shrugged, but it was only superficially a human gesture. His shoulders rose and fell, but with the smooth movement of a machine, not an animal. He moved like an object, not a person.

Judged by appearance, Diego Giovanni would seem the youngest person in the room. But someone who looked deeper, who gauged by the postures and attitudes of the people around him — Accorri’s slight, defensive defiance, the formal attention of their host Eric Milliner, even the intent regard of Kay’s “Great Aunt” Isabel — would instantly realize that he was the one making the decisions.

Diego Giovanni looked as if he were in his late twenties. He had been dead for over six centuries.

“Accorri, your loyalty to your descendant does you credit,” he said. “I would hate to think your loyalty to the family as a whole is less intense.”

Accorri stiffened. “What are you saying? You think I’m disloyal? Is that it? You want me to walk on fire for you?”

Kissing Cousins “That shouldn’t be necessary. I’m simply concerned that your fondness for Primo might lead to regrettable haste in this important matter. Primo would be one of the youngest Embraces in the history of our clan. If he is as brilliant and valuable as you say, should we not wait a few years and allow him to pass on his qualities the mortal way?”

“Primo… is most eager to change. He knows his studies are limited while he is mortal. Now, in this crisis, can you afford to ignore a necromantic prodigy?”

“Well, I trust your judgment,” Diego said, sounding suddenly bored. “If you feel he is so very worthy, I shall allow my great grandchilde Gianmaria to Embrace him. She has been most ardent in her desire for the consolations of childer.”

Accorri blinked. “Gianmaria? I thought I might give him the honor myself.”

“Oh, that wouldn’t do. Already, he has taken your blood as a ghoul, yes? Giving him the Embrace would bring him into a closer bond, and that sort of thing is usually reserved only for loose cannons. He does not require such controls, does he?”

“No, but….”

“If you feel like waiting, on the other hand, I might do the deed myself.”

Accorri’s face lit up with a greed he quickly concealed. “Oh, you honor us too much. What sort of wait are you thinking…?”

“He’s already had the Proxy Kiss, so there’s no hurry. Once I am satisfied that he is as precocious as you think, I suppose.”

“I, uh… I suppose I’ll have to think this over.” Accorri covered his confusion with a sip from his heavy snifter.

Eric, seeing his companion’s confusion, smoothly entered the conversation in Accorri’s place.

“And have you met Stewart?”

Diego’s face was flat as he said, “Ah. Stewart.” His tone immediately alerted Eric that something was wrong.

“Do you think Stewart is worthy of the change, Eric?” Eric glanced at Isabel, but her face betrayed nothing.

“Stewart would be a tremendous asset,” Accorri said. “If you think we should wait on Primo, you could do no better than to Embrace Stewart.”

“Really? I take it you’re unaware, then, that he’s been bound?”

“What?” Eric leaped to his feet before he could stop himself, but Diego was standing before the taller blond had finished rising. Diego’s palm slapped the table hard enough to crack the heavy wood, and his voice was harsh.

“Blood bound, and not to one of ours!”

“That can’t be!”

“It has been seen, Milliner,” Diego spat, his voice rich with contempt. “You constantly agitate for more authority, more autonomy, and yet this is how you squander the trust you’re given! Count yourself fortunate if he’s allowed to retain the Proxy Kiss. Or perhaps we should just bind him completely?”

“Who has done this? I’ll break the bond by killing his domitor! Tell me, I… I beg you… signore.” The last word came out with a humiliated crack.

“If the storm of ghosts has been such a crisis here as you claim, you have more to worry about than one wayward ghoul-child. Is this why you are in such dire straits? Because you’re all thinking of your personal legacies instead of the family’s needs? Or are you just exaggerating your problems so that we’ll give you more license for your foolishness?”

For a moment the room was tense and deadly still.

Eric stared at Diego Giovanni. He knew, with cold certainty, that cursing him would be pure suicide but was surprised at how much he still wanted to do it, irrationally, insanely. Part of him whispered without words, showing him how sweet it would be to give in, to rage at his elder, to die in a brief, pure, thoughtless act.

Clanbook: Giovanni Accorri watched closely. If Eric attacked, Accorri wondered, would there be any way — any conceivable way — Accorri could save him? His mind raced, going through every possibility. Except, of course, the possibility of joining him in a fight against Diego. That was simply not thinkable.

Isabel merely watched.

“I… don’t think… you’re being fair… signore.” Each word rasped out of Eric Milliner like a knife coming up through his throat. æ æ æ æ Kay stumbled back into the house, to the wide eyes of her family. To every question, she just said, “Where’s Isabel?” Eventually a Latin-looking man finally said, “I think she went back through the conservatory into Eric’s office, but.…”

Brushing away tentative hands, she kept moving. Behind her she left whispered talk.

“Did you see…?”

“I think she went off with….”

“Who is that, anyway?”

“…Isabel…?”

The conservatory was lovely. It had a Venetian-style trompe l’oeil ceiling, an inlaid floor, a baroque harpsichord flawlessly restored and tuned. A well-used bass viol sat on a stand in the corner, and a frumpy old woman sat on the bench at the harpsichord. She smoked a cigarette and caught the ashes in her hand.

“I need to see Isabel,” Kay said, heading toward the door. Moving with surprising speed, the old lady got in her way.

“No one enters,” she said with a thick Italian accent. Kay tried to move past her, but it was like trying to push a couch up a spiral staircase.

“No one enters,” the woman repeated. Kay could feel the tears welling up inside her again when the door opened and three men emerged. The youngest of them was saying something in Italian to a blond man. Kay’s Italian was very poor — something about how a man who could control his animals could still prosper. The blond man looked very angry in a cold and distant way. Then Kay saw Isabel and threw herself toward her relative.

“Kay! What… what’s wrong?”

Clutching Isabel, Kay couldn’t stop sobbing, even as she realized that the blond man and another, darker, man were staring at her.

“He… he tried to….”

“Shh, calm down now Kay.” Isabel pushed her away, holding her at arm’s length. “Kay! Look at me! Calm down!”

Gazing into Isabel’s eyes, Kay felt the clenching sobs that had held her relinquish their grip. They were perfect, Isabel’s eyes, dark and flawless and deep….

“Tell me exactly what happened,” Isabel said.

“Cousin Primo tried to rape me.”

Isabel’s gaze flicked over to the dark-haired man, and as Kay looked around she realized the others in the room were staring at him — not at her, as she had feared.

The subject of their stares opened his mouth, closed it, then finally shrugged and said, “Shit. Well, good thing she’s a fast runner, I guess.”

His callous tone left Kay speechless. It also provoked a bark of laughter from the old woman and a glare from Isabel. Then the young man spoke.

Kissing Cousins “How did you get away?” He asked. The authority of his voice pulled her around to look, instinctively, and once she looked into his eyes the thought of lying, or even not answering, became impossible.

“I think I may have killed him,” she numbly said.

“What?” æ æ æ Accorri Giovanni had been a powerful man in life, and he was immeasurably stronger in death. The thought that this… this nobody girl!… might have killed his beloved great-great-grandson obliterated all rational thought. Before even Isabel could react, he was at Kay’s throat, lifting.

He was about to smash her head through the harpsichord, when he realized that taking hold of her had broken her neck.

Isabel lunged at him. Eric’s attempt to shield Accorri slowed her only for an instant but completely destroyed the bass viol when he landed in it. But it was enough: Before Isabel could reach Accorri, Diego was between them.

“Enough,” he said.

Neither one would meet his eyes, but both stepped back.

“She was to have the Proxy Kiss tonight, Accorri,”

Isabel said, her voice tight, controlled.

“Fuck you,” Accorri replied.

“Both of you be quiet,” Diego said. Then he spoke again, this time in Greek.

A moment of chill spread over the room. Diego cocked his head and said, “Primo isn’t dead. He is badly injured, however.”

Accorri’s grip tightened for a moment, then he dropped Kay’s limp form to the floor.

“Signore, I—” Eric Milliner began.

“Hush,” Diego said. Thinking hard, he was perfectly still. He did not blink or move his hands. He turned to Isabel.

“This Kay: She is the one of whom you spoke? The scholar-athlete?”

Isabel nodded, and added, “With enough guts to fight a ghoul and win,” glaring at Accorri.

“She will receive the Embrace tonight,” Diego declared.

Clanbook: Giovanni “What?” shouted Accorri, for the second time that night.

“And you, Accorri, will give it to her.”

This time, it was Isabel whose eyes widened with shock.

“Meanwhile, Isabel, you will find Primo and give the Embrace to him.”

“But signore, this is… it’s…” Even as he protested, his master’s reasons were lining up in Accorri’s brain.

Each sire would be saddled with a disliked and distrusted neonate — the last people they’d enlist for treachery against their fellows. Also, each neonate would be bound by loyalty to the very family members they would most want to betray.

“Yes, Accorri?”

Accorri shook his head. “I wish you’d asked me to walk fire instead. But whatever you say. For the family.”

“For the family,” Isabel echoed, sourly. She turned to exit the music room as Accorri, resigned to his task, bent to it.

Diego turned to Eric Milliner. “Perhaps you’re right, Eric. Perhaps the Proxy Kiss is a bit old fashioned in these modern nights.”

The old woman gave another bitter laugh.

Kissing Cousins Clanbook: Giovanni