by Drew Hayes
The nerves faded from Richard’s voice, replaced by something far heavier. The man had an entire clan that depended on him, and he took that job seriously. While many would have seen it as a license to do as they pleased, Richard understood it was a duty, a burden, one he had to be strong enough to bear.
“Present company excluded, vampires can be a real pain in the ass to deal with. Their treaties give them a lot of freedom when it comes to hunting, as long they don’t kill their victims, and since therians in human form are allegedly hard to distinguish from regular mortals, it’s hard to go after them for taking blood from my people. So far, the Turvas have been playing very nice, keeping a wide berth from any parahumans and being discreet in their feeding. If I can, I’d prefer to have them keep that up. Violence would come with costs to both our sides, ones I don’t want to pay.”
“Again, Richard, it’s fine. You couldn’t very well refuse such a simple request without reason,” I reminded him. “And it might be all around better that you didn’t. That could have betrayed that we’re friends. As far as the Turvas know, I’m just someone you hired to save you money on your taxes. The more mundanely they see me, the less reason they have to show fear or be interested.”
“Still doesn’t sit right in my gut.” Richard opened the door to the dining room, where Charlotte was already waiting. She was surrounded by waiters—all of them also her, just in another form—that were holding serving dishes waiting to be opened. The table was currently cleared off, except for two pairs of place settings on opposite sides.
“As requested, a fine meal is waiting to be served at your leisure,” Charlotte informed us.
“Wait, what?” This wasn’t part of the plan; it was supposed to be a quick meeting. I certainly didn’t want to spend a whole dinner with these people.
“My idea, Freddy,” Krystal said, walking calmly over to one of the place settings. “Give me your briefcase.”
I complied, and she set the case down in a chair before one of the settings. Wordlessly, she picked up the utensils and handed them to a waiter, where they vanished into thin air. Reaching into a compartment on her sweatshirt, Krystal pulled out identical utensils, setting them down carefully in the same spots the original ones had been.
“A little bit of insurance, just in case,” she explained. “Having dinner justifies the place settings, and no vampire is afraid of a butter knife. But you aren’t going to be eating with the same tools as everyone else, Freddy. You’re going to have silver utensils. Specially made too, just like agent-issue tools, so that they won’t be easily detectable by scent.”
It was an odd kind of brilliant; silver was the ultimate double-edged sword in the parahuman world. The material hurt almost all of us, which made it both effective to use and dangerous to handle. As a result, very few parahumans messed with the stuff, and certainly none would think to suspect that a vampire’s utensils were made of it. Silver immunity was nigh unheard of among the undead.
“When, exactly, did you have silver duplicates of Charlotte’s utensils made?” Richard asked, bringing up an excellent point that I was a little ashamed about not noticing.
Krystal shrugged, barely visible through her oversized shirt. “Around the same time I moved in. Always pays to be prepared. I told her I was doing it, though she’s the one who gave me the molds.”
“Just be sure to pick those up when this is done.” Charlotte had moved several feet away from the table. As a being composed almost entirely of magic, silver was more painful for her than most parahumans. It meant a lot to me that she was tolerating it on her table.
“Agent’s honor,” Krystal promised. “And Freddy, I know I don’t really need to tell you this, but these are for defensive purposes only. Try to resist the urge to pretend you’re an action hero.”
“Somehow, I think I’ll find the self-control.” I hadn’t realized how on edge I was until I heard the squeal of tires from the parking lot. Evidently, I’d let my usual shutting out of the vampire senses lapse, because that noise was far too quiet to be heard with human ears. Still, I did appreciate the warning.
“Looks like our guests have arrived,” I told them. “Everybody into position.”
2.
I wasn’t surprised to see Lillian as one of the vampires who’d come out to meet me, though I was taken a bit back by her choice of wearing a pantsuit, as I’d assumed the last time she’d worn one was solely out of deference to their meeting with therians. She hadn’t really seemed like the type to embrace professional attire as habit, but I suppose I, of anyone, should have known better than to judge a book by its cover.
The man with her wore a lovely pinstriped number that I knew on sight had been hand-tailored. He was also one of the oldest-looking vampires I’d encountered, which, admittedly, was a sample size of three before him. A few wrinkles hung around his eyes, and his dark hair had gone silver in streaks along the side. His face was handsome, but approachable, the sort you’d find as a department head or neighbor that ran the HOA.
“Mr. Alderson, thank you for making the time to meet with us.” He bowed to Richard, not very deeply, but enough to show respect. For his part, Richard had his game face on, which consisted of being stiff, detached, and more than a bit terrifying. Unless these two had been drinking some incredibly potent blood, Richard could probably take them apart by himself. Unfortunately, that would also cause quite the incident between vampires and therians, which is why he was around more for show and friendship than backup.
“And you must be Mr. Fletcher.” The man turned to me, giving another bow. I rose from my seat and stuck out a hand. Bowing might be the way vampires did it, but accountants were taught the art of the handshake to show our respect.
“Yes, sir, Fredrick Fletcher of Fletcher Accounting Services.”
He looked at my hand for a few moments before taking it and offering a firm shake. “I am Petre, of the House of Turva.” The shake continued; he was waiting for something, though I had no idea what. It might have gone on forever if Lillian hadn’t stepped forward.
“Fredrick, it is common courtesy to announce the name of your clan in meetings such as this.”
“It is?” This time, I did bow, a little. I’d made the mistake, so it seemed like meeting him halfway on tradition was a good form of apology. “I’m terribly sorry. I don’t have a clan, as far as I know.”
“Your clan is your sire’s clan, unless you’ve been cast out,” Petre told me.
“My sire never taught me anything about that. He turned me and left me on my own. The only other time I saw him was when he beat me senseless and threatened to kill me.” Both Petre and Lillian seemed to shrink back at that news, the former finally allowing our handshake to come to an end.
“Then it is I who am sorry,” Petre said, quickly recovering himself. “The bond between a sire and their child is meant to be a sacred one. For you to have survived on your own, learning the way of the night without an instructor, is no small feat.”
“Well, movies helped a lot.” I appreciated the praise, but I really didn’t want them thinking more of me than was strictly necessary. “I knew to avoid silver and sunlight right off the bat, and since I didn’t plan on driving any stakes through my heart, that was already off the table.”
Petre regarded me with a long stare. There was a lot going on in those cool, pale blue eyes, most of which I was probably happier not knowing. “I suppose that is one benefit to our culture being absorbed and spread throughout the humans’ consciousness.”
“It’s nice to see you again, Fredrick,” Lillian butted in, offering a much needed respite from the intensity of Petre’s gaze. “And you’re not even hooked to a taxi this time. Makes you look more composed.”
“I appreciate your help that night,” I replied, choosing my words carefully. Anything that signified a debt between us could be dangerous, especially if this turned to negotiations. “You look well, yourself.”
“It’s only proper.” Lillian smiled like she kn
ew something I didn’t, which was completely unnecessary. We were all keenly aware that she and Petre had things hidden up their sleeves, just as they no doubt assumed I had a few tricks, as well.
“If you’re done with introductions, can we get this moving? I have other tasks to see to tonight.” Richard’s voice was edging on an animal’s growl, his inner lion poking through. Rough as his tone was, I was glad for it, since it helped to keep things speeding along.
We all took our seats at the table as the kitchen door opened and a waiter breezed in, carrying a tray of crab cakes. Petre and Lillian both looked momentarily distressed by the appearance of staff, so I spat my words out as quickly as I could.
“It’s fine, this whole place is parahuman friendly,” I told them. “There’s a presence in the house, so everyone here is already in on the secret. We can speak freely.”
“What an intriguing establishment.” Petre watched the waiters closely, but Charlotte was doubling down on her avatar. Every step they made squeaked, each motion was clumsy enough to be human, and she was even replicating the sound of blood pumping through a heart. Unless either of the vampires tried to take a bite, they’d have no idea their waiter wasn’t real. “How ever did you find such a place?”
“I was called in to help settle some ownership issues and account discrepancies. Things went well, so they put my services on retainer.” Now that the conversation was finally steering toward business, I jumped on the opportunity to pop open my briefcase and pull out two identical sheets of paper.
“Since Richard called me here for a meeting, I took the liberty of putting together some information about exactly which services I offer, and the general estimations of hours needed for each task. As you’ll note, I have different projections for digital records versus physical ones, since that adds a lot of time, but the hourly rate stays consistent throughout.”
Petre and Lillian both examined their documents, looking them over dutifully despite the fact that I doubted either of them had needed such services in a very long time. As I’ve said before, parahumans are not the best at record-keeping in any capacity. Finally, Petre lowered his back to the table.
“You have quite the list of services, Mr. Fletcher. It’s not often one sees a member of our species take on such . . . thankless tasks. Those who are turned tend to lean toward grander spectacles, using their new abilities to reach heights unattainable by mortality.”
“I like to think I did the same. After all, becoming a vampire was what gave me the push to start my own company.” My smile was placid, as though I hadn’t even noticed that he’d tried to tactfully call me boring. If Petre thought I was going to take offense to something like that, he clearly hadn’t done much homework.
“Indeed.” His fingers ran along the edge of the page, crinkling it ever so slightly as it rested on the wooden surface of the table. “May I ask why you wished to share this with us? Perhaps you were looking for insight on what options need to be added?”
“A generous offer, but I’ve got it well in hand. I was showing you the price list because I have a policy of being upfront on cost with all potential clients. You called the meeting, so there’s obviously something you’re looking to book an accountant for, but it’s important to me that you have a fair sense of the price going in. All part of running an upstanding business.”
While that truly was my philosophy when meeting new clients, the odds of that being applicable here were slim. I’d decided that my best bet for making it through this encounter was to play it dumb. As an abandoned vampire with no clan and minimal knowledge of vampire society, it took very little acting to pull off. My hope was that if I could convince them I was a non-threat, that I was just an undead guy who was good with numbers, they’d see there was nothing to gain from dealing with me. Except maybe a reliable person to call during tax season.
“The honesty is appreciated,” Petre replied. “However, we did not call this meeting to request your accounting services. Rather, I requested it to get to know you on a more informal level. There are very few vampires in the area; Quinn, the traitor, made it quite inhospitable for any that tried to make a home here. I was surprised to learn that he’d tolerated the presence of another. Tell me, was he kept at bay by the need for your services?”
“No.” The word came out with an edge I was only mildly aware of, prickling my tongue as it fell away. “No, it’s safe to say Quinn did anything but leave me alone. But I already told you that my sire abandoned me.”
Now that got a reaction. Petre’s lip twitched for the barest of moments, a snarl he forcibly kept from forming. “I wish I could say I was surprised that even he would do such a thing, but the truth is that among Quinn’s crimes, such an action is hardly notable. It is still awful, though, and I’m sorry you had to endure it. Trust me when I say there is no love lost between the House of Turva and Quinn, the traitor.”
“Nor do I hold any affection for my sire.” That part required no fudging whatsoever. Quinn had tried to kill me, along with my friends. I never considered myself a hateful person, but I wished all the ill the world could muster on the man who turned me.
“Quinn is a real dick,” Lillian chimed in. “And I don’t think anyone is sad that he’s gone into hiding. But tell us, Fredrick, how did you survive? You mentioned he threatened to kill you, and Quinn had a reputation for making good on such promises.”
“I was lucky,” I told her, no shame in my voice at the admittance. “Before he could get to me, Quinn picked a fight with someone else. An agent. That went about the way you’d expect it to, and as far as I know, he’s been running ever since.”
Petre made a noise halfway between a harrumph and snort. “Agents. They do have their uses, I suppose. Quinn was always more ambitious than smart. I can’t say I’m shocked that his brashness finally caught up with him.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say that would close the topic without inviting further questions, so instead, I picked up my silver fork and scooped out a piece of the crab cake cooling before me. Like everything Charlotte made, it was scrumptious. It took me three more bites before I noticed that Lillian and Petre were watching me eat.
“Did you need a lemon sauce?” I asked.
“We do not partake in the food of humans.” Petre didn’t even try to mask the disdain in his voice. Lillian nodded in agreement, though I noticed her eyes lingering on the crab cake in front of her. “Blood is the only delicacy a vampire need taste. It is the perfect, the ultimate, the unequivocal joy. Everything else is but ash in the mouth by comparison.”
Carefully considering his point, I waited a few moments more, then took another bite. Nope, definitely not ash. “Blood is quite delicious, but I’ve yet to lose my taste for the more familiar dishes of life. Maybe it’s something that comes with time.”
Petre kept looking at me as I scooped up another few morsels before finally responding. “Perhaps so. It is not entirely your fault for not knowing such truths, either. As an Abandoned, there was no one to teach you the proper ways of our kind.”
“All things considered, I think I got off lucky being abandoned, if my other option was being taught by Quinn,” I pointed out.
“Did you really call this damn meeting just for small talk?” Richard, who had been busying himself tucking away his own crab cake with enormous bites, dropped his fork to the empty plate below with a loud clatter. “I’ve got better things to do than listen to the vampires in town get to know some guy who does my taxes. Petre, if you pulled me into a useless meeting as an attempted show of power, I should warn you now that I won’t take it well.”
The whole room seemed to grow still at Richard’s words. What he’d said was no idle threat. Power and authority were so important they verged on holy in the parahuman world, even more so with therians. A man in Richard’s position couldn’t afford to let himself be made an errand boy by some new vampires in town. Asking for a favor was one thing. Asking for a pointless favor to show they could make him do it was so
mething different altogether. Depending on Petre’s answer, they might soon have much more serious matters to deal with than some lowly accountant in their town.
“Our apologies, Mr. Alderson,” Lillian said at last. Her subdued tone was a pleasant contrast to Petre’s haughty nature; it was no wonder he kept her around. “Petre merely wished to get to know Fredrick before broaching our true business. Such is the traditional method to show respect and build a relationship. By all means, please feel free to leave if you like. We will certainly take no offense. Your gesture has been fulfilled merely by making the introduction.”
Fear boiled in my stomach, tossing the crab cake to-and-fro. I knew Richard wouldn’t want to leave me, but what if he couldn’t think of a way to stay nearby without betraying that he saw me as more than a contracted employee? Giving away our friendship meant handing these people a bit of information, and I already knew that the less we gave them, the better.
“Much as I would like to, the fact remains that you asked me to make this meeting happen,” Richard replied. “The accountant was barely ever in my service, but I did have to use him. It wouldn’t look very well if I introduced you to one of my employees and then you went off and killed him. I have a reputation to uphold.”
A bit hurtful, but it was hard to argue with the route Richard had taken. Making it about him and his reputation gave him adequate cause to stay nearby as a witness, without letting on that we were friends. If anything, Richard sounded like he detested me, which, I suppose, did fit the usual vampire-therian dynamic. Dealing with Petre and Lillian, I was beginning to think that perhaps I really had gotten a blessing in disguise by not knowing my sire for long. It had allowed me to shape my own relationships with other parahumans, rather than having them dictated to me.