So Night Follows Day Pt. 21

If she'd gone the "drugs and porno" route that everyone thinks is likely what happened to her older sister, Helen's story wouldn't end the way we're all sure Persephone's did. She wouldn't end up an overdosed Jane Doe in an alley or ditch somewhere. (That's why we don't talk about Persephone, because that's the most logical answer any of us can come up with to the question "Why doesn't Persephone seek out her orphaned, widowed little sister who's now the fabulously wealthy queen of her own country and would probably run into her arms and let Persephone move into the castle and live off of her immense fortune forever?") She'd kick the drugs and become one of those porn stars who ends up making the jump to serious acting, winning awards for both along the way, and being completely unashamed of her "early work," autographing it and her Oscar Winners with that same "delighted-to-meet-you" smile and wink that she uses in public now. Her porn career would become something that only late-night comedians and shock-jock DJs bring up, and each filthy question would get a laugh and a filthier answer from her.

Even when Helen wore makeup for TV, it wasn't noticeable. She never looked made-up. But now, she did. The look on her face was one I know Julie had to recognize, because it was the first time I was seeing it, and it was unmistakable. Helen wanted to go to a club and find somebody. That person's fate was in question, but how she was getting into a club tonight was absolutely not. I'd been to the place where we were going, and it wasn't the sort where you have to be "on the list," but if it was, the doorman wouldn't even bother looking at it; he'd just hold the door for her. The fact that she could simply command him to do it wasn't even part of this equation. The mini-skirt, sheer stockings, and being Contessa Helena de San Finzione were all the ID she needed.

"Are we coming back here tonight?" Julie asked, looking at the tiny accessory purse that Helen was carrying, instead of the black Prada Arcade bag that usually functioned as her purse and I was pretty sure that she kept a gun in. This one looked like two condoms side-by-side would overstuff and destroy the bag.

"I am." Helen replied. "And Mander is. You two are going home after we get back here. Roberto and Enrique'll give you a lift and take care of your bags. Whyte's only choices now are to spend the rest of his life on the run from me or kill me. He'll have to wait and see the aftermath of his video, though. His ego would demand it; he HAS to see 'his cleverness' in action! And I'm not endangering any of you again. I have to make sure the public loses all interest in that video. THEN he'll act!"

"So, how do we do that?" I asked, as she descended the stairs to join us. A bellhop came for the bags while we walked to the elevator.

"The same way you get anything done in the media." Helen replied. "By giving the people what they want." She laid her hand on the scanner and spoke to it. "La Fucking Contessa!" She paused. "UNO!"

The express elevator door opened.