Fred (Book 6): Undeading Bells

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Fred (Book 6): Undeading Bells Page 2

by Hayes, Drew


  “Very well, then.” I could have pushed back, asked if this was an official order, kicked up a fuss about them coming early—there was no shortage of methods for stalling—but frankly, I had too much on my plate as it was. This was clearly happening, so getting it out of the way would make the rest of the trip easier. Besides, I didn’t appreciate being called a liar.

  With minimal flair, I lifted the blade from Claudius’s hand, raised it a few feet into the moonlight, and thrust downward, plunging the blade into the right side of my chest. Only after I had made the cut did it occur to me: I should have removed my sweater vest and button-down shirt, both of which were now stained by the small amount of thick blood that came from a vampire’s wound. It didn’t matter, as seconds later, Claudius leaned in and casually tore through the garments around the stab point, permitting him to examine it closely.

  At first, he looked from me to the knife, clearly waiting for me to scream or whimper and admit it was all a hoax. After a minute, he touched the knife itself. Wiggle here, slight pull there; with every twitch, he looked back, expecting me to break. It took nearly ten minutes before Claudius stood straight once more.

  “I must say, whatever trick you have come up with, we’ll need to discuss. How you’ve managed to dull the pain of the silver, I cannot even begin to fathom; this method holds tremendous promise for our people. The charade, however, is at an end. Dulling the pain is one thing; no amount of self-control will hide the simple truth of our bodies. Wounds inflicted from silver heal slowly, and often leave scars when deep enough. Sorry, Mr. Fletcher; this was always the limit of your lie.”

  That was all the warning I had before the knife was yanked out of my chest. I made no movement, keeping my torso turned toward Claudius. No one else looked as closely; the majority of them had already seen this show before. The wound knit back together in the span of seconds, a full belly of blood fueling my unnatural healing. After a minute, my skin was as smooth as it had been before the blow.

  To a vampire, this should have been a mundane sight. Claudius, conversely, appeared as though he’d just taken a cannonball to the head. Eyes wide, swaying on his feet, he poked at my skin, then grabbed it, fingers probing the flesh, looking for a scar, a rune, some sort of prosthetic, anything that would explain this seemingly impossible thing.

  “Show me again. On your hand, this time.”

  From behind me, Krystal stepped forward. “Okay, Freddy’s been a damn nice sport about this, but we have shit to do. The Blood Council has its testing time tomorrow, so how about we satisfy your curiosity boner then?”

  “Agent Jenkins, what Mr. Fletcher is showing me uproots some of the fundamental understandings of magic upon which everything we know is built. Forgive me if I’d like to see this experiment repeated a few times before accepting such a revelation at face value.”

  To his credit, Claudius hadn’t stabbed me. Reeling though he was, he still waited for me to give the nod, which I did. In an odd way, I felt for Claudius. I’d been where he was more recently than anyone else. Going from human to vampire meant coming to grips with a lot of “truths” that turned out to be comforting lies humanity told itself. I’d had my world uprooted less than a decade ago, and I could still remember the feeling of having the ground fall out from under me, the desperate need to grip onto anything real or true. If this got him through it faster, then that was better for all of us.

  Once more, the knife bit my flesh. I didn’t even bother rolling up the sleeve. With half the shirt gone, I was counting this one as a loss already. Once more, it didn’t matter, as Claudius tore it off to check the wound. This time, he didn’t leave the knife embedded as long. He required even less time with the next wound to my shoulder, and after that, stabbing my foot was mostly just formality. Each time we repeated the results, Claudius appeared to grow more stable.

  Well, perhaps “excited” is more accurate than “stable” in terms of overall mood. Whereas I’d expected a researcher whose work was just invalidated to be upset, Claudius was practically vibrating by the end, his eyes alight with possibility. After a final leg wound, he sheathed his blade, satisfied.

  “Mr. Fletcher, I owe you an apology. While I’m not quite prepared to call this a full immunity until I’ve gone through a few more tests, even if those fail, the undeniable fact remains that you are closer to it than any other vampire outside of myth. Your assertions were truthful, and I am sorry for doubting you.”

  To my surprise, he bowed deeply to me, a gesture I returned out of habit. When meeting new people, mirroring body language is generally a good method for matching their energy and staying polite. People have different forms of greeting in both the human and parahuman world; reflecting the motions they offered rarely went over poorly.

  “And with that, I think Claudius and I have some work to do before our official meeting tomorrow. Fred, thanks for being such a good sport. I’ll find a way to make this up to you. Agent Jenkins, always a pleasure.” Deborah grabbed Claudius by the arm and essentially dragged him across the field, back toward the SUV.

  She paused only when passing Sheriff Thorgood, who greeted Deborah with a friendly smile. For a fleeting moment, she stiffened before offering a cordial expression of her own. An hour prior, the idea that Deborah might be afraid of Sheriff Thorgood would have been outright preposterous. I’d seen what she could do when barely trying. At her peak, Deborah was among the most feared vampires in the nation, if not the world. That said, I was fairly certain she wasn’t as powerful as a dragon, which meant that, according to Krystal, Sheriff Thorgood was substantially more dangerous than she was.

  Much like Claudius, my own head threatened to swim under the assault of new information. Every time I thought I had a handle on the parahuman world, some new piece of the puzzle revealed how little I actually knew. I pressed a hand to my temple and moments later, felt a warm presence at my side.

  “How you feeling?” Krystal asked. She didn’t bother whispering, since around this crowd, it wouldn’t do any good.

  “Exposed,” I replied, motioning to my destroyed shirt and sweater vest.

  “I kind of like the torn shirt look. Reminds me of the old bodice-rippers my mom kept around the house.” Krystal kept smiling, tossing in a salacious wink, but I caught the flicker of pain in her eyes. Generally speaking, Krystal didn’t talk about her parents, especially her mother. They’d never known about the power passed down through their bloodline, had no idea that until the prison of their devil was passed from mother to daughter, the owner was almost unkillable— a feature that her mother might have wanted to hold on to once she got sick.

  None of this needed to be talked about at this particular moment, especially considering the company. Instead, I threw an arm around her and did my best attempt at impersonating what I imagined that sort of romance-cover charmer to sound like.

  “Hold fast, ye lovely… strumpet… lest I must stroke, er—cuddle, um—”

  The laughter wasn’t necessarily what I’d been aiming for, but the pain was gone when she looked at me again. “I am absolutely going to make you keep doing that when we get to the room. I hope you have a lot of material prepared.”

  Together, we made our way over to Sheriff Thorgood’s truck. I went to work on the luggage, while Leeroy swept Krystal up into a giant, rib-crushing hug. She let out a squeal of glee with unabashed joy, giving him a hug around the neck that looked like it would choke a lesser being.

  After a long embrace, Leeroy finally set her back down. A moment later, he started toward me. Too late, I realized what was happening—not that I would have had the presence of mind to dodge, anyway.

  “Seeing as you’re about to become family, it’s time I started greeting you that way.” Sheriff Thorgood scooped me up, pressing down on my body with the same affection he’d shown Krystal. Ours was at least a shorter interaction; he set me down after only a brief squeeze.

  Slapping the hood of his truck, he motioned for us to climb in. “Let’s get headed back t
o town already. I know you two have a wedding to plan, and only so much time to work with.”

  My eyes darted to the taillights of the SUV driving off toward Boarback. Not bad for a first meeting, but that had been proving my condition was real. From this point on, I had no idea what their testing might entail. I moved my vision from the fading taillights to Krystal’s smile.

  Whatever the Blood Council had in store, we’d deal with it when the time came. Until then, we were in her favorite place, planning our wedding. If there was one piece of advice older parahumans kept giving me, it was to enjoy the good times while I had them.

  Pushing the thought of tests out of my head, I joined Krystal at the truck, intertwining my hand with hers as we headed off toward the curious town of Boarback, Texas.

  3.

  In the years since I’d last visited, the Bristle Inn—Boarback’s sole hotel—had undergone some slight renovations. New wallpaper and carpets mostly, though I did note a hot tub filled with bubbling green liquid installed by the pool. What that was, or whom it was for, I had no idea, nor any inclination to find out. Between planning a wedding and being stabbed repeatedly, I had enough to keep track of for one trip.

  Getting there was smooth, at least. Sheriff Thorgood and Krystal spent the time catching up, and while they did their best to include me in the conversation, it wasn’t a dynamic that was easy to slip into. Not that I minded; a little time to process what had just happened was actually helpful. Besides, it was nice to see Krystal so joyful. Sheriff Thorgood had been there to teach and train her at her lowest point. She’d just lost her mother, then learned about her powers, the parahuman world, and where she fit into it. He’d been the one to start her training, and listening to them chat, it was plain she’d missed her mentor.

  By the time we arrived at the remodeled hotel, they were largely up to speed on recent events, and Sheriff Thorgood dropped us both off with another round of powerful hugs. Check-in went smoothly—we were given a room with enchanted glass so we wouldn’t have to choose between keeping the shades drawn and me turning into ash—and we unloaded our bags and turned our attention to the itinerary.

  “Okay, let’s break this down. Primary objectives are venue, catering, and transportation. These are what we need to lock down for a wedding to occur and must be secured while in Boarback. Secondary objectives are decorations, cake, entertainment, basically anything that would be essential to the event but that doesn’t necessarily have to come from Boarback. We should aim to source locally for convenience, if nothing else. Tertiary objectives are anything we think up that isn’t wedding essential.”

  As much as I loved Krystal, it was easy to forget that under the devil-may-care attitude was a highly respected agent with countless missions under her belt. Just because she usually chose to let me handle “boring” things like logistics didn’t mean she wasn’t more than capable of doing it herself. Looking at the bullet-pointed list she had produced, I found myself impressed by the step-by-step planning.

  “Venue is out, for now,” she continued. “We’re too close to sunrise; better to get a fresh start tomorrow. In theory, we could scout enclosed options, but when you’re dealing with a large number of parahumans, it’s always best to have indoor and outdoor space. Things can get messy otherwise.”

  I wasn’t sure how to interpret that particular brand of messy, so I opted not to ask for clarification. “Looks like catering comes next, if we’re skipping venue until tomorrow.”

  “That it does, and this is a big one. Part of why I suggested Boarback, in fact. The range of food options we need is insane. The only option is to use a caterer who specializes in wide-range parahuman events.” Krystal moved her finger along the paper to a boxed-in section with three entries. “One does that weird molecule gas cooking thing we see on shows sometimes, another runs more traditional fare, and the third is the diner we ate at last time.”

  I was knocked a bit off course by the diner being on the list, but after a moment’s consideration, it all fell neatly into place. Obviously, an operating diner in a city for parahumans only would have both the supplies for and practice in meeting a vast array of dietary needs. Perhaps not the best food for such a formal event, though.

  “I must admit, I am curious how one applies molecular gastronomy to parahuman cuisine.” A brief glance at Krystal’s expression gave me all the feedback I needed on that front. “But I’ve watched your reactions when we see that genre presented, and I know you’re not a fan. Plus, a wedding might not be the optimal place for culinary experimentation.”

  Krystal produced a pen and marked off the first item in the box. “That’s a very good point about the experimenting. I’m not against trying new stuff, just maybe we should aim for food that looks like actual food, not three bird eggs in the shell being devoured by snakes made out of deconstructed enchiladas or whatever.”

  That was more or less how it went as we went down the list, prioritizing our top pick destinations, with some backups just in case. It was something we could have done back at home, and had I been on my own, we’d already have a spreadsheet of destinations in descending order of priority. But I was learning to be a bit more spontaneous, just as Krystal was meeting me halfway on planning. While it was not the most efficient way to plan out our day, it was a lovely bit of decompression with the woman I loved. Efficiency couldn’t hold much of a candle to that.

  By the time we were heading toward the shopping district, there was only a couple hours left until sunrise. We strolled through the grassy lands, along one of the cobblestone roads winding over the landscape, staying aboveground until the sun forced us to the tunnels. Boarback had a few roads, but for the most part, it was made to be walked, a feature I admired. Dearly as I loved our town of Winslow, there was potent appeal in never having to fight traffic.

  The most interesting thing about this town wasn’t the walking paths, however. Nor was it the secluded nature, or secret existence, or even the population of parahumans. What I found most fascinating about Boarback was the effect it had on Krystal. She visibly relaxed more than almost any time at home, and was at peace in a way that was fundamentally different. I wanted to ask her why that was, yet I loathed to pry.

  For a change, that was not the end of my thought process. Yes, I did loathe to pry, but a place that meant so much to Krystal was something I should at least try to understand.

  “Much as I hate to spoil the lovely silence of our walk, I was wondering something. Perfectly all right if you don’t want to answer, but I couldn’t help noticing how much more at ease you are in Boarback. This place relaxes you more than it seems like just a change of scenery would.”

  “Don’t knock a good change of scenery; helps shake the cobwebs off.” Krystal leaned in closer, resting her head against my shoulder. “The reason is simple, Freddy. Like I told you last time we visited and I left my gun in the room: this place is safe.”

  I was willing to let it go at that, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Krystal, on the other hand, continued to explain. “Maybe it’s a little more than just that. It’s like… I’m finally off the clock. I love my job, I love that I get to make a difference, and I love kicking the ass of people who deserve it. But being that powerful comes with duties, to those you serve and those you love. Part of why I enjoy being in Boarback is because—and yeah, I know how this sounds— I’m not the strongest one here. Not by a longshot. If something goes completely wild and chaos breaks out, Sheriff Thorgood can more than handle it. You and I would just get in the way. I don’t get to feel like that very often: just a normal person on a walk with her guy.”

  When she put it like that, I almost felt silly for having asked. Just because Krystal didn’t show the burden she carried didn’t mean it wasn’t there. I knew there was virtually nothing she wouldn’t do to protect the members of our clan, our family. I just hadn’t considered how being the one who would actually have to do virtually anything would be a constant, heavy boulder of worry.

  “Do y
ou ever wonder what would have happened if we’d found romantic ground in high school?” I asked. “If there’s another world where we ended up together as humans? Well… one human and one woman-with-a-devil-she-hadn’t-activated-yet. I try to picture it sometimes, the two of us living normal, happy lives.”

  A poke to my ribs caused me to jump. “Like those versions better?”

  “No. That’s what I was getting to.” I was tempted to rub my ribs, except that would have required letting go of Krystal’s hand. Besides, it was more habit than need, anyway. “My point was, I ‘try’ to picture it, but I never really can. It’s hard to imagine the younger versions of ourselves pairing up to begin with. More than that, I just can’t see a version of you that’s content without being all that you currently are. I’ve known human Krystal, and I’ve known agent Krystal. Anyone with that perspective can easily tell which of you is happier.”

  My hand jerked as Krystal stopped moving. I turned, worried I’d said something wrong, only to have her mouth meet mine in a sudden, passionate kiss. We lingered there, under the falling moon, for perhaps longer than I feel proper recounting. When we finally broke apart, she drew me in close, laying her head against my sternum. Were I still alive, she could have heard my heart beating.

  “One of the things I hate about all of this is that when I got my powers, I stopped being Krystal to almost everyone. I was an asset, or a threat, or a tool. People in the know see the job or the monster, and I have to lie to everyone else, never letting them into my real life. You don’t know how lonely I was after Tem betrayed me. For a long time, I was just the job. I gave everyone what they wanted… until I remembered what it was like to have someone see me as Krystal again. Do you want to hear something I don’t think I’ve told you?”

 

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