by Mark Tufo
We kissed the babies and then held each other for a moment before she grabbed my hand and escorted me down the hallway. Oggie was waiting by the door to the bedroom.
“Going to have to sleep downstairs tonight,” she told him.
I shrugged my shoulders to the dog. “Sorry, man.”
I don’t even have words to correctly convey what happened that night; no words could do it justice anyway. Suffice it to say it was among the sweetest, slowest, and most tender nights of my life. After she’d fallen asleep, I was thinking about how I could get used to this kind of life. I’d had it once. I can’t say I let it go; rather, it was taken from me. To have it once again within my grasp was...powerful, tempting. Even though I knew this was only an illusion of peace, a mirage oasis mired deeply in the throes of a war-torn world.
When Azile woke that next morning, I guess I shouldn’t have been too entirely surprised that her thoughts somewhat mirrored my own, with a slightly feminine twist to them.
“Is there any chance this isn’t real?” she asked.
“You mean the fact that a one-hundred fifty-year-old witch just had coitus with a one-hundred fifty-year-old vampire recently returned from the dead with his shiny soul intact while they are in the midst of fighting a werewolf war? I mean, what would make you ask that?”
“Seriously, Michael.” She sat up; I was saddened that she was no longer in my embrace—it signaled more than just the end of our evening. “For all those reasons and more. We’re in a comfortable home, you have a dog, I have a cat...for God’s sake! We just had twins, a boy, and a girl and they’re...they’re beautiful.”
“You’re making it sound like we have twenty-four / seven servants and I get sponge baths by voluptuous women.”
“Why do you get sponge baths by voluptuous women?”
“Hey. If it’s a fantasy, I’m going all out. No reason to half-bake this shit. You can get back rubs from some old Swedish woman. I won’t complain.”
“Seriously, though, how do I know this isn’t all a dream? What if I’m really some fifteen year-old girl in a coma from taking too much ecstasy after I snuck out with my friends and went to a rave? I met some guy named Steve Spearman...eighteen and dreamy but he gave me bad X?”
“Wow. You’ve really thought this through—even gave the hot drug dealer a name. First off he’s a douche for making a chick o.d., second, I should probably get out of here.”
“What?” She looked confused.
“I mean if you’re fifteen, I’m kind of in some hot water right about now. They’re never going to believe me when I say I saw your ID and it pegged you at well over a hundred. Am I on “To Catch a Predator”? Come on! You didn’t even offer me cookies. Us sick bastards are fools for cookies.”
“I’m serious.” She was as close to pouting as I’d ever seen the Red Witch.
So, I got serious. “How could you possibly think last night was anything but real? In your wildest imagination could you have come up with what we felt?”
I think I was winning her over so I rashly decided to up and pull the rug from under her feet.
“And the positions? I mean, I think we probably broke the Kama-Sutra.”
“You’re an ass, Michael Talbot.” She was smiling, though, and that was all that mattered. The babies chose that moment in time to start crying.
“How’s that for real?” I asked.
“Are you going to get them?” She laid back down.
“I guess so.” I got up.
“Could you get me a sandwich, too?”
I tossed a pillow at her head. “Anything else, madam?”
“Make sure the pool is clean; I’m not having sex with you for nothing.”
“I think Steve the hot drug dealer dodged a bullet by not hooking up with you,” I mumbled as I headed out of the room. I about freaked when I watched the very pillow I had tossed at her levitate off the bed and strike the wall next to me with enough force that the cushion exploded into a plume of feathers.
“Holy fuck! What do you want on the sandwich?” I asked from down the hallway. “Hi, babies,” I said when I walked into their room. After so much pain endured, I never thought my worn out heart could be filled quite the way it was as I looked down upon them. “Maybe Azile is on to something. How can this possibly be real?” I asked aloud as I picked up Alianna. I kissed her forehead, made sure I had a secure hold, and then grabbed MJ. I kissed his forehead and my nose wrinkled, well honestly, it kind-of sort-of wanted to fold in on itself. “Oh lord boy. Did you swallow some old eggs? Well, that’s real enough. Should probably get you both to your momma as fast as possible.”
I hot-footed it back down that hallway like the flooring was made of lava. I deposited the babies on the bed and was halfway back across the room before she figured out my ruse.
“You’re going to have to change them again at some point.”
“I have a weak constitution. My therapist said I really shouldn’t take on more than I can handle.”
“You can’t have all of the good without taking on some of the bad!”
“You’re fifteen. You can’t have that much wisdom.” I was in the hallway when I turned back around. A death-dealing pillow was hovering mid-air. Like a predator drone, it was watching me, assessing the chances of a successful kill, I would imagine. “No fucking way.” The thing was slowly advancing on my location. “Last act of defiance.” I turned and pulled my pants down, exposing my ass. I got slammed hard enough in the buttocks that I was pushed to the side, my head busting a hole in the drywall.
“You’d better not be ruining my house!” she yelled from the bedroom.
“I’m your concubine now, I’m entitled to half you possessions,” I responded.
“The broken part is yours, then!”
“Fair enough.” I pulled my pants back up and rubbed my head. I don’t think I’d be able to scratch the surface with what I know about Azile’s abilities. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when I got to the kitchen, but certainly not a working refrigerator. She had cuts of meats and jars containing all manner of fruits and vegetables and even what looked like homemade condiments. Yeah, I looked for beer. No luck. Sure, it was like seven in the morning, but it wasn’t like I had to drive to work. And even if I did, have you seen the assholes I have to work with? I needed that beer just to deal with them. I didn’t find bread, either, which was a blow, but I did find tortilla wraps, and that would do in a pinch.
I whipped something together for us both and headed back. I asked her if it was safe to return. She probably thought I was checking whether there was some pillow artillery waiting to take me out once I turned the corner, but in actuality, I was referring to MJ’s ability to burn out one’s olfactory senses. Who knows? Maybe that was going to be his super-power. Had worked good enough for Henry. Oggie, possibly sensing I was missing a dog, figured it to be him and was now by my feet. Although I’m not so sure it was me he was interested in so much as what I was carrying.
“Didn’t the damn cat show you where the food was?” I asked him. “Probably not; she wouldn’t share. That’s not their way.”
“She’s right next to me, and she can hear you.”
“You think it’s wise to let her be so close to the babies?” I asked in all seriousness.
“She would never let anything happen to them,” she said, indignantly.
“Yeah, at least not while you’re watching.”
Sebastian hissed at me.
“Cat understands English, huh?”
“Perfectly,” Azile told me.
“Well, that’s just fucktastic.”
“You two are going to need to figure out a way to get along. And it’s going to be up to you, because you’re the bigger one.”
I’d mistakenly thought she was talking to me. I was about to tell her I would do my best, then I realized she was scratching the ogre’s head and talking in its ear.
“Losing my damn appetite,” I said as I tore off a huge chunk of the burrito san
dwich hybrid.
The day went much like any Sunday I spent before the world had swirled down the toilet along with some of the smelliest, grimiest shit known to humanity. We ate, we laughed, we enjoyed the kids. Oggie got his fair share of attention and the cat and I ignored each other—it was as blissful a state as I could remember but the later it got, the more the stress of reality began to weigh itself in on the proceedings. If I was going to have any success at making some decent mileage for the day I was going to have to go soon. I saw it on the tip of Azile’s mouth, at least a half dozen times. She wanted to tell me to stay. And honestly, I don’t know what the fuck I would have done if she’d said it. How does one walk away from everything they’ve ever wanted in life? She didn’t ask because she couldn’t. She had never been, nor ever would be, selfish. If this world was ever going to be righted, it was going to call for some sacrifice. We could only hope that we’d already paid up with our pound of flesh.
Azile gave me a small pack stuffed to the gills with food and all sorts of witchy stuff—I think I saw fish gills and frog toes. I grabbed my weapon and some magazines, I was once again off to war. I know some are born to fight, I just didn’t think it meant forever.
Chapter 12
MIKE JOURNAL ENTRY 12
* * *
I WAS BUOYANT as I started off; that lasted exactly until my foot stepped off that porch and I got out of the line of sight from Azile and the kids. Oggie watched from the door, I’d made him promise to look after them. The cat had her ass to me and was swishing her tail in a good riddance gesture.
“What in the flying fucking monkeys are you doing, Talbot?” I just couldn’t even believe I had left the light, warmth, and love of that home and was now trekking back into the harsh realities of this cold, cruel, unyielding and unforgivingly fucked-up world. And I still wasn’t anywhere near certain as to what I should do. I had thoughts and ideas but, well, we both know where this is going, I had no plan in place. I mean, at this point why bother pretending? I had some options—one was to fight off years of guilt that would wreak havoc on me and turn the fuck around. Another was to go to Denarth, grab up arms, and join the doomed fight against Lunos, his werewolves, and his mage. The third, and maybe the most terrible, though I was leaning that way, was to get some Lycan help.
Yup, I really did just write that the fuck down. I was going to get help from the very enemy that hunted us, ate us, and until very recently had sought our extinction. Maybe part of that is not fair; Xavier had been forcing them into a battle they really didn’t want any part of, but still, a good number were definitely willing participants very much getting into their newfound role of conquering and commanding. There were a couple of problems I could see right off the bat with this, and obviously thousands I couldn’t even guess at. Let’s start with the ones I know. There’s the fact that the Lycan absolutely abhor humans. It would be like people aligning with edible rats. Secondly, Lycan hate war, or more specifically, they hate getting their hands dirty. Would the loss of the main staple in their diet be enough to compel them to join forces with me? This had a very “robbing Paul to pay Peter” feel to it. Or whichever one of the assholes I owed money to. Then again, finding an end to this rampant aggression would still be worthwhile, this would be the only way they could go back to their natural hunting ways.
I don’t think that there was a “right” answer. Whoever came out stronger in the end was still going to be an enemy of humanity. This was about as smart as going to a feminist rally with a sign that said: “make me a sandwich”.“Gonna get your nuts stuck in a vise over this one buddy.” I said it, but it sounded a lot like BT. “Wish you were here, man. You, at least, would try to talk me out of this shit.” There was another huge obstacle I had to overcome as I headed just north of Denarth’s walls. Where exactly were the Lycan? I knew where they had been when Xavier was amassing them, but so what? I also knew where the Chicago Cubs had played baseball; didn’t mean they were still there. Although who knows, when you haven’t won a World Series in three centuries maybe your ghosts haunt the place. Xavier had told me that originally his clan had lived in Alaska. By the time I got to Alaska and back, my kids would be collecting Social Security checks.
I should have probably run my thoughts by Azile; maybe she could have given me an idea of where to go. I mean, right after she hit me with a right cross for coming up with something so asinine. Sure, I had removed one option off the table, but I was still heading in the wrong direction for what was left. That is, I knew fundamentally that one more rifle on the wall was not going to deter Lunos. Neither was screaming louder at him. If I did not find outside help—capable, dedicated allies, it was a foregone conclusion humanity would fall, and I hate when fate forces its hand. I’d said it before and it’s worth mentioning again. There were larger forces at play here than just us mere monsters and mortals. I had to believe I would get some sort of help in the form of a cosmic nudge. Or maybe a micro-comet would strike me on the top of the skull and blow out the back of my heel after obliterating everything in its path. That was a potential outcome as well. When you fuck with the gods, they fuck back, and let’s be honest: they are way better at fucking us than we were at fucking them.
So north of Denarth I went. I figured the destroyed Harbortown was as good a place as any to start. I would have loved to pop in and let Mathieu and Bailey know that Azile was fine and that she’d had twins and that we’d gone to her house and pretended to be a little family for a day and we’d...okay, maybe I’d just tell them about the kids. I couldn’t take the chance that I’d run into Lunos too soon. I couldn’t risk finding out just how dire the situation was in Denarth; if it was as I feared it might be, I don’t think I’d be able to leave them. Was it because I cared so deeply for those people? Or was I just egotistical enough to believe I could fix it all by myself if necessary? Definitely the latter was strengthened by the former. If I kept myself ignorant of their situation I knew I could help them better. I smiled through the grimness of it all.
“Mathieu, just hang on for a little while longer. I’ll get there one way or the other.”
Chapter 13
WALLS OF DENARTH
* * *
THE SOLDIERS FROM Denarth and Talboton had reached the relative safety of Denarth without any further problems. Mathieu knew that they had Mike and Azile to thank for that. Without their help, Lunos surely would have followed and most likely overtaken the soldiers; they would have been in a very desperate fight to save themselves and the strange child they now had in their possession. Mathieu waited at the massive gate until everyone had entered. Lana sat next to him.
“I am not much for the city; too many people,” Mathieu said.
Lana suppressed a small smile. “You sound very much like Michael.”
“You did not hear me out.”
“Please continue,” she said graciously.
“Regardless...right now I am very much happy to be here. Happy to be here with you.”
“As am I.” She had reached out and grabbed his hand.
“May I ask you a question?”
“I’ve already said yes, Mathieu, are you sure you want to muddy the waters?” she answered very astutely.
“Sometimes water must be churned to get to the other side.”
“I am listening,” she said.
“It has to do with Michael.”
“We both knew that it would. He may not believe it, but it appears that this world revolves around him.”
“Am I the consolation prize?”
“Whatever are you talking about, Mathieu? Do you believe that I would ever allow my heart to betray me? Or my head to supersede my true feelings? Did I have a crush on Michael? Yes, I did, and I will not feel guilty for such a thing. He is an Old One from a time long lost. A legend; handsome, attractive in a criminally despot sort of way. My father could not stand him; that alone I found irresistible. He is a warrior nearly without equal; what quality is not there that would make him attractive to a youn
g and naive girl? But you, my thick-headed one, I love. I love dearly. It is to the point that to gaze upon you without touching hurts my chest. You have stolen my heart, Mathieu.” She leaned in and they shared a small kiss.
“I am sorry for doubting you,” Mathieu said, red-faced.
“You are male, Mathieu. It won’t be the first time you’re wrong.” She was smiling as she trotted her horse inside.
“What about your father? Does he like me?”
“Not at all,” she said over her shoulder. Maybe even less so than Michael.”
“I can live with that,” Mathieu mumbled.
It wasn’t a matter of “if” Denarth was going to be attacked, but rather “when.” Guards had been doubled, and that night had been a tense one as they waited. Once Bailey had got her people settled in she sought out Lana.
“Do you have a moment?” she’d asked from the doorway leading into the room Lana conducted her business from. The younger woman was sitting at a large desk peering out the window. She smiled when she saw Bailey there.
“I did not think the burden of leading men would weigh so heavily, Bailey.”
“You carry it well, Lana.”
“I fear it will age me beyond my years. What can I help you with? I know you well enough, Bailey Tynes, to sense this is not an idle visit where we will talk on pleasantries.”
“It would appear we both understand the difficulties in doing what is best for our people. I am here because of Gabriel.”
“Is he alright?” Lana asked.
“The boy is fine; he is resting comfortably. He has eaten and he has a small following of women who are catering to his every need. He is a very enchanting one...for someone so young.”