Life After Humanity

by Gillian St. Kevern

  “I had to talk to him about something serious.”

  “Uh-huh.” Aki darted ahead, turning around to jog backward, so he could watch Nate’s expression. “Talk me through this. I want to know all about last night.”

  “You’re going to collide with someone. Or fall.”

  “Come on, Nate. Give me the play-by-play. You forced your way into his apartment and somehow he didn’t call the cops.” Aki was unrelenting. “I don’t know which one of you is more at fault here.”

  “I needed to see him. And I did have news he needed to hear.” Nate grabbed Aki’s arm. “Corner.”

  Aki slowed to a halt. “I can’t tell if this is a new level of desperation, or you’ve chosen the worst possible way to finally develop a spine.”

  Nate squeezed Aki’s arm. “I’m not spineless. You remember when I took on a necromancer?”

  “Accidentally. And you weren’t trying to date the necromancer.”

  “Still.”

  Aki shook his head. “Doesn’t count. Or do I have to remind you how long you held a torch for the demon who tried to kill you?”

  Nate winced. He didn’t bother pointing out that it hadn’t been the demon he’d had feelings for, but the demon’s agent. It made no difference. Since their very first meeting, the guy had been bad for Nate. And everyone saw it but me.

  The jogging track turned onto the square at the main entrance to Founder’s Park. Even midmorning on a weekday, the square was busy with people sitting on benches around the ornamental fountain. A food truck parked beside the entrance was in the process of setting up.

  Aki headed toward a clear patch of the square, starting his post-run routine of stretches. “When it comes to Ben, you’re a complete pushover. The guy is obviously avoiding you, and instead of calling him on it or accepting his disinterest and getting a new hook-up, you pine.”

  “Geez, Aki. You make it sound like I’ve done nothing but mope.” Nate copied Aki’s movements, standing one-legged to pull his foot toward his back.

  Aki rolled his eyes. “Right. I forgot. You’ve been taking your plant obsession to new levels.”

  Nate switched legs. “Exploring my powers is an important part of accepting who I am as a supernatural. If I want to get stronger and protect myself against supernatural threats, I need to know how to use what I’ve got.”

  Aki paused, rotating his shoulders to tilt his head at Nate. “Protecting yourself against supernatural threat—or protecting Ben?”

  Nate stiffened. “Not everything I do revolves around other people.”

  “You really expect me to believe that your sudden willingness to embrace the supernatural aspects you’ve spent your entire life denying has nothing to do with the vampire upstairs?”

  “He’s not a vampire. And—well, what happened with Sandy was a huge wake-up call.” Nate rubbed his shoulder. “I realized that ignorance isn’t any protection against the supernatural. I know I’m not going to please everyone—and I’m cool with that.”

  “Uh-huh.” Aki narrowed his eyes. “If you’re so down with your supernatural self, you’ll have no problems telling me what you are.”

  Damnit. “Aki. We’ve been over this. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you—it’s that I don’t know. There’s not exactly a dictionary definition of it.”

  “Dryad?”

  “Dryads are girls.” Nate ran his hand through his hair. “Look. You know about my powers and that I’m unknown. If I could tell you more, I would.”

  “When you’re ready to admit that you’re a dryad, I’ll be right here. Until then, you’re proving my point.”

  “I’m proving nothing. It’s not my secret to tell, Aki. If it was, you’d be the first to know.” Nate made his way toward the drinking fountain.

  Aki followed. “Okay. Even accepting that you can’t tell me the truth about being a dryad, when was the last time you did something purely because you wanted to?”

  Nate raised his head from the fountain. “Right now. I’m going jogging with my friend.”

  “Going for the brownie points, huh? But tell me honestly—you ever go jogging without me?” Aki folded his arms and waited.

  “I—” Nate’s brain stalled. The stream of water from the drinking fountain hit him on the chin. Nate stepped back, wiping water off himself.

  “Point proved.” Aki smirked, stepping forward to use the fountain.

  “It’s more fun jogging with you,” Nate protested.

  “Despite the fact that as soon as I finish my warm-up, we’re travelling at two different speeds?”

  “Yeah.” Nate wrung his T-shirt out and smoothed it down. “I enjoy talking with you. Like this.”

  Aki snorted but didn’t quite manage to hide his smile. “Clumsy—but flattery will get you everywhere.”

  The smell of cooking meat floated across the square. Nate looked to where the sausages were frying on the food truck grill. “Will it get me a hot dog? ’Cause I am starving.”

  Aki turned to consider the truck. “You can’t pretend you forgot your wallet. Not when our wristbands come with a payment system.”

  “I kind of used the last of my money on groceries yesterday.”

  “But you went shopping on Saturday.”

  Nate scratched the back of his neck. “Groceries for Ben.”

  There was a long silence.

  Aki sighed. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. Mustard or ketchup?”

  “Sauerkraut and cheese.”

  “At least your choice in hot dog condiments isn’t intended to impress anyone. Gross.”

  Nate claimed an empty bench in the sun. A breeze lifted the hair at the back of his neck, and he shut his eyes. He’d always liked the sun. As a kid, he’d loved finding a sun-speckled patch beneath the apple trees in the orchard to sit and pretend the rustling he heard was the wind rustling through his own leaves. Now, he didn’t have to imagine how sunlight felt to a tree. He knew.

  “Here.” Aki had returned holding two cardboard containers. “One disgusting travesty of a hot dog for you, and a delicious chili dog with extra cheese for me. You can beg all you want, but you’re not getting a bite of mine.”

  “Thanks, Aki.” Nate took the hot dog, immediately taking a big bite.

  Aki shook his head as he sat on the bench. “I don’t know why I bother.”

  “Rye et.” Nate swallowed and made a second attempt. “Try it. It’s really good—”

  “I was talking about you spending your last dime on shopping for a guy who hasn’t called you in over a week.” Aki took a neat bite out of his hot dog. “I hope I don’t need to tell you how dumb that is.”

  “It’s not dumb. He needed groceries.”

  “Ben needs a lot of things, but I wouldn’t put groceries at the top of the list.” Aki pursed his lips. “You’re going about this all wrong.”

  “So what do you suggest I do? I can’t drag him out of his apartment and make him have fun.”

  “Sure about that? The guy’s been surrounded by alpha werewolves, master vampires, and supernatural hunters. Strength. He doesn’t need a personal shopper. He needs someone who is going to take charge. Not someone whose impulsive need to take care of people continually gets him in trouble.”

  Nate hunched his shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with being generous.”

  “There’s a fine line between generous and pushover.” Aki paused to pick an onion out of his hot dog and flick it to the ground. “You’ve got to put your foot down somewhere.”

  His action caught the attention of a dog. It slunk up to them, a shaggy dog, dirty with tangled gray fur. It gobbled up the onion and looked up at the two of them. It wagged its tail hopefully.

  “Go away.” Aki stood, waving his hand at the dog. “Scram—Nate! Don’t encourage it!”

  Nate threw the dog a chunk of hot dog. It gobbled it up at once. “Look how skinny it is. Poor thing’s probably starving.”

  “It’s a walking flea factory. Ignore it.” Aki sat down, t
aking another bite of his hot dog. “What you want to do is take a leaf out of my book. Be more selfish.”

  Nate raised an eyebrow. “That really a good thing?”

  “Where you’re concerned? Yeah.” Aki nodded. “I’m up front about what I want—and I generally get it.”

  Nate made a noncommittal noise around another bite of hot dog. Aki’s opinionated statements did not get him a huge amount of fans, and his dating history consisted of a string of one-night stands that never turned into anything more. He looked up—and met the pleading eyes of the dog.

  “If you don’t put yourself first, who will? New Camden is no place for the weak.”

  Nate jerked his gaze away from the dog to frown at Aki. “Being strong isn’t the same as being selfish.”

  Aki delicately sucked a dash of sauce off his finger. “Yeah? How strong can you be when you’ve stretched yourself thin worrying about everyone except yourself?”

  Nate looked down. “If you’re strong enough, you can handle that.”

  The tawny eyes of the dog intruded into his vision. He tossed it the rest of the hot dog.

  “That’s not strong. That’s—Nate! Seriously, what did I tell you?”

  The dog gulped down the remainder of Nate’s hot dog in one bite. He nosed the ground, checking that he hadn’t missed anything, before looking up, his tail wagging.

  “Hope you’re not expecting a second hot dog because if this is what you do with them…”

  “Look how happy he is.” Nate stretched out his hand to the dog. “Here, boy.”

  “He’s happy all right. He’s found the easiest mark in New Camden.” Aki glared at the dog. “Don’t look at me. I’m not a bleeding heart.”

  “Don’t listen to him.” Nate stroked the dog’s ears. “He’s just mad because his last serious boyfriend dumped him over a beagle.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Nate! That is not what happened.”

  “Isn’t it?” Nate continued to stroke the dog. His fingers encountered something rough. “Look—it’s got a collar.”

  “More fool you, then, for feeding someone else’s dog.”

  “Do you see anyone who looks like its owner?” The dog tried to pull away, but Nate hooked his finger through the collar and held it in place. “Look. It’s got weird symbols on it instead of a number.”

  Aki leaned forward to get a closer look. “You’re right. They look almost like runes—fuck!”

  The dog made a sudden lunge. Aki jumped back—dropping his hot dog. In an instant it was gone, and the dog was licking its lips with noisy satisfaction.

  “You see what comes of being nice?” Aki folded his arms.

  Nate released the dog. “He’s just a hungry dog. He probably thought you were going to feed him.”

  “And whose fault is that?” Aki dusted his hands off on his T-shirt. “If you don’t learn when to put your foot down, your impulsive generosity is going to get you in big trouble.”

  “Will you chill? It’s just a hot dog.” Nate draped an arm around Aki’s shoulder. “Soon as I get my next pay check, I’ll treat you to another one.”

  Aki sighed, letting Nate steer him toward the gates. “Will you at least think about what I’m saying?”

  “I am thinking about it.”

  “And?”

  “Being generous is just who I am. I can’t change that—and if I do, aren’t I just doing what you say I shouldn’t be doing? Changing to try to make Ben happy?”

  Aki frowned, leaning back against Nate. “How do you figure that?”

  “If I’m trying to be someone I’m not, I’m not really changing. Just putting on an act. Like you being nice when you meet a hot guy for the first time.”

  Aki elbowed him. “We’re not talking about my love life.”

  “I’m just saying. When you meet someone new, you pull out all the stops. I’ve even heard you faking an interest in Top Gear for a guy.”

  “That’s just what you do when you meet someone new. You go after them. And then as you get to know them, you care less about impressing them, and the real you comes through. And if you’re compatible, they stick around.” Aki shrugged. “It’s just bad luck that none of the guys I fall for click with me.”

  “You don’t think that maybe they fall for the persona you present and not you?”

  “Nate, you’re my best friend. You really think anyone would date me knowing my true personality?”

  “Why not? I like you.”

  Aki narrowed his eyes at him. “Yeah. But you’re—” He paused. “On second thought, Nate, you’re right. Don’t change.”

  ACCEPTING HIS SUPERNATURAL self was one thing, walking into Department Seven was another. The police department dealing with New Camden’s supernatural crime was not part of the city police headquarters, or even City Hall. It was tucked down a bystreet, occupying a building that had seen better days as a dental clinic.

  Nate hesitated at the door with a feeling of dread very similar to the fear of needing to get a tooth pulled. What am I afraid of? I’ve been arrested by them once. What is the worst that could happen?

  The theme of the waiting room was “linoleum of the 1970s.” Being uncomfortable and ergonomically impossible did not prevent the rows of plastic chairs from being full. In fact, Department Seven appeared to be standing room only. To reach the front desk, Nate squeezed past a heavyset man with a beard straight out of Exodus.

  A frazzled-looking woman answered the bell. “The briefing will start once our agents have finished interviewing a witness with knowledge of the missing wolf. I can’t say when that will be.”

  “Uh—what?”

  “The rogue werewolf,” the woman said. “If you’re after information, you’ll have to wait like all the rest.”

  Nate glanced at the crowd. “I’m not here for a briefing.”

  “You’re not?” The woman gave Nate a closer look, her gaze lingering on his chest. She patted her hair absently. “Here to report a supernatural crime?”

  “Not that either.” Nate stood a little taller.

  “I’m afraid that with the missing werewolf being a priority now, all nonessential work like hunting licenses or assessments are on hold.”

  “I’ve got an appointment. With a counselor.”

  The woman looked down at a paper in front of her. “Nathan Granger?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Take a seat. Well—find somewhere to wait. I’ll let Officer Kenzies know you’re here.”

  “Kenzies is my counselor?” But the woman had already stepped through an internal door and vanished into the department.

  Nate turned his attention back to the rest of the room. Is everyone here a supernatural hunter? It was a very mixed crowd. Predominantly male and indiscriminately fond of khaki, but there was a range of ages, experience, and style. Some, like the man blocking the entrance, Nate could have picked as a hunter—if not necessarily a werewolf hunter—immediately. Others, like the woman in a crisp business suit, he’d never have guessed. And others—

  Others he knew very well.

  “George? What are you doing here?”

  George grinned at him. “I could ask you the same question. Considering a career change?” She wore a headscarf wound tightly around her skull, but a bandage protruding out from under it revealed the burns that she had been lucky to survive.

  “Are you even well enough to hunt? Seriously, you only got discharged from hospital—what?” Nate did some mental calculations. “Three days ago?”

  “Four. And before you tell me I should wait at least a month before going after a potentially fatal target, I’m here with an ulterior motive.” George motioned around her. “These guys don’t know it, but I’m auditioning them for the role of being my partner.”

  Nate followed her gaze. “Makes sense.” George’s former partner in supernatural bounty hunting had been murdered a few weeks earlier—on Nate’s family farm. He cast around for something sympathetic to say.

  “You interested? ’Caus
e for you I might consider a sixty-forty split of the profits.”

  Nate snorted. “Thanks, but no. I had enough of supernatural investigations being on the receiving end of one.”

  “Had to try.” George shrugged. “And the bounty offered for this wolf is really tempting. Too bad a werewolf’s the one thing you never hunt alone.”

  “Even worse than a vampire?”

  “Depends on the vampire.” George turned her head toward the door linking the waiting room to the department’s inner corridors. “Finally.”

  The door swung open, and a powerfully built man in a suit emerged, speaking loudly. “—not impressed with the efforts of the investigation so far.” His voice was automatically pitched for podiums and his eyes ranged across the room professionally.

  “You said. Repeatedly.” Even without being close enough to catch the air of stale tobacco and sulfur that hung around Gunn, Nate recognized his voice. No one else could inject three ordinary words with such venom. As he watched, a man with messy brown hair and an air of being a professional loiterer sauntered after the business-suited man. “Kind of hard to investigate a case without being allowed to release any information, Councilor Wisner. The media’s perfectly willing to run the story, but if we want the public to help us, they’re gonna need a bit more information. The guy’s name, for a start.”

  Wisner frowned, tugging a handkerchief from his pocket. He held it over his nose. “I’ve made my wishes on that matter perfectly clear. It’s up to you to do the rest.” He eyed the room with distaste. “The operatives you mentioned?”

  “You’ve barred us enlisting the help of the Magic-Users Guild.”

  “I will not have them called in for what is pack business.”

  “But you’ve got no problems using taxpayers’ money to run down your missing puppy.”

  Wisner’s eyes flashed. “The rogue wolf is a danger to the city. His immediate capture is in the best interest of everyone concerned.”

  “So you say.” Gunn raised his voice. “Ladies and, since I’m not allowed to use a more accurate appellation, gentlemen, you can stop cluttering up the waiting room and avail yourself of the briefing room. Form a line. Officer Simeon will take your names and check your license is current.”