Midnight Girl Page 14

  She stopped at the top of the stairs. Auntie Fong and a goateed Middle Eastern man in a dark blue suit were frowning up at them. As they came down, Auntie Fong told the man, “If you’ll step into the dining room, we’ll follow momentarily.” As he left, she turned to Cat. “Shouldn’t your friend be going now?”

  Professor M rolled up the hall. “Tarika’s involved.”

  “This is a matter for the families.”

  “She’s family.”

  “She’s a friend. Friends are not—”

  “To Cat, she’s family. So she’s mine.”

  “She’s a child.”

  “She’s two months older than Cat.”

  “Catalina had no choice.” Tarika said, “Like I had a choice last night?” Auntie Fong looked at her. “No, and I’m sorry for that. But you have a choice now.”

  “To go play video games?” Tarika shook her head. “If you know about a problem, you have to find a solution.” Auntie Fong looked at Cat. “Dear, any involvement in these matters could be dangerous. For your friend’s sake—” Tarika said, “I’m here for my friend’s sake! You’re having a meeting to decide what happens to Cat, and she needs all the protection she can get. Even if it’s just me.”

  Auntie Fong shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

  Professor M said, “Who does?”

  Auntie Fong shrugged. “It’s the clan leader’s call. But if this child is hurt—”

  “She’s a target already. There comes a time when knowledge is more protection than ignorance.”

  “I hope you’re right, Val.” Auntie Fong looked at Tarika. “Let’s go inside.”

  Entering the dining room was like stepping into a different universe. For all of Cat’s life, the table and chairs had been covered with dusty bed sheets. When she was small, the room was the perfect place to play, but she hadn’t been in it for years. The walls were a duller white than she remembered. Like many of the unused rooms in Casa Medianoche, it had stored boxes, trunks, and books.

  Now the sheets had been put away, the boxes moved, the curtains opened, the windows washed, the black walnut table polished, the chairs dusted, and the tile floor cleaned so it shone. Olujimi was setting out a pitcher of water and a thermos of coffee next to a jumble of mugs that made Cat wonder if no one could find the good dinnerware or if it had been sold to pay a bill.

  Olujimi grinned. “Hey, Tiger.” Then he squinted at Tarika. Auntie Fong said, “Val’s idea.” Professor M said, “Tarika’s idea.” Cat said, “We just backed it up.”

  “O-kay,” Olujimi said slowly, clearly thinking it wasn’t wise. “Life’s never dull around Val.”

  Cat almost said life had been dull for fourteen years, but watching her father roll across the room, she realized it hadn’t. It had been quiet and dependable, which, for him, must have been the greatest gift he could give.

  At the far end of the room, with the goateed stranger, were Ilya and Ms. Arkan. She wore a gray suit with a white shirt. He wore a brown jacket, tan trousers, and a green T-shirt. He looks good in those colors, Cat thought. Not gorgeous like Baldomero, but good.

  Their eyes met, and she caught him looking away as quickly as she did.

  Everyone was dressed nicely. Had her father meant “dress up” when he said, “wash up”? It didn’t matter. Everyone was going to stare at her no matter what she wore.

  Her father wheeled toward her with the young Middle Eastern man. His Ouroboros ring held a blue sapphire. “Cat, meet Saeed al-Rahman. Saeed, my daughter, Cat.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said. Was she supposed to offer her hand, or was he? By the time she had asked herself the question, it felt too late to offer hers. She added, “Uh, I hope.”

  “As do I,” said Mr. Rahman with a polite nod. Cat thought, Do all the clan leaders learn to hide their emotions? I guess they have to.

  Ms. Arkan jerked her hand toward Tarika. “What’s she doing here?” The ruby on her finger flashed in the light, and Cat thought, If they’re supposed to learn it, they don’t all succeed.

  Professor M said, “The First of the Medianoches wants her here.”

  Ms. Arkan’s nostrils flared. “The problem with you, Valentin, is you don’t respect tradition.”

  “Then you should be happy. Doesn’t the head of the hosting clan have the right to invite anyone?”

  “Which hasn’t been done in four hundred years.”

  “And the winner of the respecting tradition contest is—?”

  “Have your joke, Valentin. Involve a child in a war she’s not prepared for. I only hope you find her drained body, not me.”

  “How old was your son when you took him on his first hunt?” Ilya said quietly, “Twelve.” Ms. Arkan said, “He began his training in the crib! He’s never been a child, but if you have your way, that girl—” She pointed at Tarika. “— will never be an adult!”

  Auntie Fong said, “Val’s within his rights, Alexandra. For better or worse, it’s what the girls want.” She shook her head. “Tarika, why don’t you sit across from Ilya?”

  Cat said, “We’ll be the kiddie section,” and started to follow. But Auntie Fong leaned close to her and whispered, “Head of the table by your father, dear. Return his ring as discreetly as possible.”

  Cat looked at the Medianoche ring. Her father must’ve meant she could wear it for her birthday since it would be hers someday.

  Auntie Fong whispered, “Dear? One more thing. What we decide today has nothing to do with affection. My fondness for you could not be stronger.”

  Cat blinked, but Auntie Fong had already turned away. Cat thought,

  She’s going to vote against me! Auntie Fong is going to—

  She wanted to shout or cry, but if she couldn’t control her feelings, how could she make anyone believe she could control her thirst? She thought, Okay. Not about emotions. Just have to convince Auntie Fong to vote for me. One more besides Dad and Uncle Olujimi, and I’m safe.

  She slid the turquoise ring off and went to the head of the table. A single chair waited there.

  She sat. On her left were Auntie Fong, Saeed al-Rahman, Ms. Arkan, and Ilya. On her right were her father, Olujimi, and Tarika. Three clan representatives on one side, two on the other. Does that mean anything? Did Auntie Fong mean she would vote against me, or she could vote against me?

  As Cat swallowed, Olujimi gave her a thumbs-up. She smiled weakly. Everyone looked like they were trying to keep from looking worried. Only her father didn’t look worried at all.

  The meeting’s just a formality. Get it over with. She put the Medianoche ring in her father’s hand. He frowned. “You don’t want it?”

  “Auntie Fong said—”

  “Ah.” He raised the turquoise ring high for everyone to see. “This is the ring worn by the First of Clan Medianoche.” He gave it to Cat. “So you should put it back on.”

  She stared at him, then realized everyone else was staring at her. He added, “To please the traditionalists.” Ms. Arkan said, “Valentin! We’re here to decide what to do about that girl, and you—”

  “Ah, Xandra!” Professor M said. “Sorry about the misunderstanding.

  We aren’t here to decide what to do about Cat. You’re here to meet the new First of my clan.”

  Auntie Fong said, “Val. I wish we’d discussed this.”

  “Has any First discussed the choice of successor with anyone?”

  “No, but—”

  “I’m beginning to appreciate tradition more and more.” Cat looked at her father. “Dad! No way I’m ready for this.” He nodded. “Good. People who think they’re ready never are.”

  She set the ring on the table before him. “You should keep it.”

  He shook his head. “For fourteen years, I’ve known I should step aside. Any of the Medianoches in Peru or Spain would’ve made a fine First. They’ve been too polite to suggest I step down. I exploited that for one reason. When Baldomero said you might turn, I made a vow. If you became
a nighter, I would kill you so the next First could serve without bearing the weight of your death.”

  Cat wanted to ask what he would’ve done after killing her, then decided she didn’t want to know. “So give it to one of them now.”

  He shook his head again. “The First does two things, conducts meetings and leads missions. Given your abilities—”

  “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

  “A good reason you should lead.” Frowning, Olujimi said, “You’ll stop killing nighters?” Professor M said, “That’s one of the things we’ll discuss.” Ms. Arkan said, “It’s not.” Auntie Fong said, “I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll discuss anything.” Professor M looked at Cat. “Someone has to put on the ring and call the meeting to order.” He folded his hands in his lap. Cat said, “Can I appoint someone else when I’m First?” He nodded. Cat said, “Good,” and slipped the ring on her finger. Professor M said, “You accept the responsibility of leading the

  Medianoches?”

  “I do. And I appoint—”

  “Sorry. Can’t appoint anyone until you’re twenty-one or your adviser agrees you should appoint someone.”

  “You didn’t tell me that!”

  “I wasn’t your adviser then.”

  “Val,” Ms. Arkan said. “You’re making a mockery of clan business.” Professor M nodded. “Yes, Xandra. Because this wasn’t clan business until you demanded a meeting. This should only be a matter for the Medianoches.”

  Auntie Fong said, “Val, your daughter is a nighter.”

  “Half,” Professor M said. Ms. Arkan said, “She drinks human blood.”

  “She hasn’t killed.”

  “Would you spare a rabid dog until it killed someone?”

  “She’s no dog!” Olujimi leaned toward Cat. “Call for silence.” Ms. Arkan told Professor M, “True. She’s ten thousand times more dangerous.”

  “I know what my daughter is.”

  “Like you knew what her mother was?”

  “Damn it, Xandra! Give her time—”

  “To spring the de la Sombras’ trap?”

  “To convince you—”

  “With glamour? “With facts!”

  “Quiet!” Cat shouted. To her amazement, everyone sat back and looked at her. When her father nodded, she said, “Uh, thanks. Where do we start?”

  Ms. Arkan’s hand shot high into the air. Olujimi and Saeed al- Rahman lifted their hands, and Auntie Fong raised her index finger from the table.

  Cat looked at the four clan heads. What was the best way to get them on her side? Nothing Ms. Arkan would say could be good. Start with Olujimi because he was friendliest? Or with Mr. Rahman because he seemed neutral? She was afraid to hear what Auntie Fong thought.

  The only way Cat could imagine getting Auntie Fong’s vote was by showing her respect. Cat said, “Auntie Fong?”

  Auntie Fong nodded. “We must decide what you are.” Professor M said, “We know—” Cat said, “Dad!” He inhaled deeply, then nodded.

  Auntie Fong said, “Thank you. Your father’s playing a desperate game. By making you First of the Medianoches, our choice changes. If we treat you as a nighter, will the Five Clans become Four? That’s not something I wish to see.”

  Auntie Fong looked at the others. Olujimi shook his head. Mr. Rahman did the same. Alexandra Arkan shrugged.

  Auntie Fong said, “But the risk of having a nighter—” She glanced at Professor M. “—in nature, if not loyalty, among us is unimaginable. The idea that we could accept one in our council is unendurable, no matter—” She hesitated, then turned to Cat and said more softly. “No matter what we think of you. So, with your permission, I would first ask your father a question.”

  Wondering why she hadn’t started with Olujimi, Cat said, “Sure.”

  Auntie Fong looked to Professor M. “Is your daughter a proper choice to lead your clan?”

  He said, “Auntie, you can’t—” Auntie Fong said, “It’s a fair question.” He nodded. “True. She’s not.”

  As Cat tried to hide her hurt, Auntie Fong said, “Then we needn’t—” Professor M said, “I haven’t finished.”

  “Oh?”

  “We don’t get proper choices in life. We just get choices. I’ve watched the kid for fourteen years. She’s made mistakes as foolish as anyone’s, maybe even as foolish as mine. But every time, she’s tried to fix what was wrong. If I’d paid less attention to what she is and more attention to who she is, I never would’ve worried about whether she would be a nighter or a human or anything else. I look at her now, and I think there’s no way she’s ready to be First of the Medianoches. But I also know she can learn what she needs to know. Maybe she’s not a proper choice, but she’s the best choice. Maybe I’ll regret it because of something I’ll do someday, but I’ll never regret it for anything she’ll do.”

  Cat thought, Okay, best dad ever. Tarika’s arm shot up high and waved from side to side. Auntie Fong said, “Yes?” Tarika said, “May I say something about Cat?” Auntie Fong smiled. “No need. Your presence speaks for you.” Tarika said, “It better be yelling for me.” Cat suspected that running to hug her father and best friend was not something Firsts do during meetings. She swallowed, then said, “Did you want to know something else, Auntie Fong?”

  “Yes. Why should we accept you as one of us?”

  Cat shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, okay, everyone’s worried I’ll get thirsty and kill somebody. But last night, I learned what the thirst is like. I’ll do anything to keep it from taking over. If I have to drink soy milk twenty times a day, or if someone comes up with pills or a shot or an operation or anything that’ll keep me from killing, I’ll do it. The only way I might lose control is if I was on a desert island with someone. But the second I felt the thirst, I would help them tie me up or lock me up or —” Cat glanced at her father. “Or do anything they had to do to be safe.”

  She looked back at Auntie Fong, then at Mr. Rahman, Ms. Arkan, and Uncle Olujimi. “I know that makes you worry. It makes me worry. For you, it’s ‘Cat could be a monster.’ For me, it’s ‘I could be a monster.’ That’s megatomically worse. For the sake of everyone I love, I have to keep it under control. So I will.” She nodded, thinking that must have been the lamest speech ever made by a First.

  No one spoke. She couldn’t tell what they were thinking. She looked at her father, and he nodded. She knew what that meant: You did fine, whatever happens.

  She looked down the table. Tarika was smiling. Ilya was watching with an expression she couldn’t read.

  Auntie Fong said, “That you can control your thirst, I accept. Your mother and uncle control theirs, when they choose. But the Five Clans have one purpose. We kill nighters. We’ve survived for centuries because our dedication never wavers. In an instant of doubt, a nighter can seize a person’s will. Even if you were human, I would fear your loyalty would be divided, and that division would be our doom. Tell me you would kill your mother without hesitating, and I might accept your presence on our council. Tell me you would kill your father if a nighter took control of him, and you will have my vote.”

  Cat said, “I can’t tell you that! If there’s a way to save someone—” Auntie Fong looked away. “I have no more questions.” Cat glanced at her father. He shrugged, so Cat looked at the others.

  “Mr. Rahman?” Saeed al-Rahman smiled. “I like your honesty. I’ve always admired your father’s boldness. I read his e-mail and Xandra’s. Everything I’ve heard confirms my first opinion. I have no questions that might change it now.”

  Cat thought, Meaning he’s on my side? Ms. Arkan’s side? He wants to look decisive but he hasn’t decided? Leading missions might be easier than leading meetings.

  She glanced from Olujimi to Alexandra Arkan. If Olujimi can save me, he should speak last. “Ms. Arkan?”

  “Thank you.” Ms. Arkan spoke more calmly than Cat expected. Then she realized Ms. Arkan did that from strategy, not kindness. “Valentin admits you’re half-nighter. He sugge
sts that because you can endure sunlight, we should think you’re different. He’s hiding the plain truth. You’re very different. You can never be one of us. Yes, you saved people this morning. Why should we think that wasn’t part of a plan to make us trust you?”

  Cat swallowed and looked around the room. Her father poured water into a glass and handed it to her. She sipped it, then shook her head. “Sorry. I got nothing. All I can say is it’s not.”

  Professor M lifted his hand. Cat said, “Dad?” He turned to Ms. Arkan. “If I were Baldomero and that was my plan,

  I would kill you, then have Cat save the kids. Creates just as much sympathy for her, and it weakens the clans. If he chose to let you live, he’s a greater fool than I thought.”

  Ms. Arkan smiled. “Why, Val. You do know how to flatter a woman.” She looked back at Cat. “Baldomero’s no fool. Saving me makes you look best to us. Giving up the chance to kill me then is easily worth the chance to kill us all soon.”

  As frustration surged in her, Cat said coldly, “So I should go super- nighter on you now?”

  Ms. Arkan smiled. “I knew you had a temper tucked away.”

  Cat inhaled, thought, If you want to see my temper— She said, “If I’m so dangerous—”

  “Nighters are patient,” Ms. Arkan said. “Your cousin might want you to stay with us for years to learn our secrets. Then his people could destroy every branch of the clans in a night. He knows that however deadly you are now, you’ll be deadlier when you’re grown. He has every reason to wait. Which is why we have none.”

  Cat thought. That went well. Not. Uncle Olujimi, if you can save me, now’s the time! She said, “Uncle Olujimi?”

  His eyes were kind and sad, reminding her of her father’s. He said, “Cat, if what happened to you happened to one of my daughters, I pray she would handle it as well as you. I met you as a quiet baby almost fourteen years ago. I’ve seen you grow into a fine young woman. Everything I’ve seen and heard tells me your father and your young friend believe everything you’ve said. Just as I do.”

  He glanced at Professor M, then told the room, “Even if I didn’t think this because of my many years knowing Cat, I would hear Val’s words, and I would believe them. I have six brothers and sisters. Five are named Udofia. One is named Medianoche. Like many in the clans, Val and I learned of the nighters before we were told. When we were fourteen—”