Strangers in the Night

by E M. Jeanmougin

  “Well, shit, Jasper, it ain’t like you give him any reasons to be nice to you.” Jasper opened his mouth to retort, but Crimson raised both hands. “Y’know what? Forget about it. You hate him that much, I’ll just not have him around anymore. We’ll go all the way to his shithole apartment in Queens. It’ll be fine.”

  That wasn’t what Jasper wanted at all. Mainly because he thought Crimson deserved a little better than someone who just tossed him aside when he was done with him, and partially because that resolution somehow ended up with him feeling like the asshole in this scenario. He pressed his lips together. “Whatever.”

  “Alright,” said Crimson. He replaced the knives in their roll bag, folded it up, buckled it, and tossed it on the floor beside the bed. “I’m gonna sleep for a while. We’ll go in a few hours. Okay?”

  Jasper nodded. “Okay.”

  #

  Twilight was on the horizon when they set out across Crimson’s territory in search of the incubus. He was not near enough for Jasper to sense him, so they headed back to Rascal’s, where Crimson hoped to pick up the trail with his sense of smell.

  Several people had come and gone since the previous night, but after a while the werespider seemed to suss it out and they were off.

  At the end of the avenue, they pushed out into the surrounding blocks, whose demon occupation was scarce thanks to the severely territorial presence of the werespider. Crimson lost the trail at a crisscross of paths, where the demon activity was strangely high, but by then it didn’t matter. Jasper could feel him. He was close.

  So were at least half a dozen other demons.

  The building was whitewashed, three-story, boxy and square. The lower level appeared to have once been some sort of barber shop, but it looked as though it hadn’t been in use since the ’70s. The windows were covered in yellowing newspaper, the candy-striped pole outside faded so badly that the red spirals, now pink, were hardly discernible from the white.

  The front door was locked. A cop car idled on the other side of the street. Jasper dragged Crimson away before he could start bashing in windows.

  The space between the building and the one next to it was claustrophobically narrow, too thin for even a trash can. There was a window on the second floor though, and it was open. The smooth sounds of old-school rhythm and blues wheedled their way down.

  “Can you jump that high?” whispered Crimson.

  “I could climb it, easy.”

  Crimson shook his head. “No good. Gives ’em too much time to hear us coming. Get on my back. I’ll jump. You just have your gun ready in case.”

  Jasper climbed onto Crimson’s back, feeling a little ridiculous. He wrapped an arm around the werespider’s shoulders, his other hand holding his pistol. Crimson grabbed his legs and hiked them up to his waist. There wasn’t time to feel embarrassed, but Jasper felt the heat on his face anyway as he squeezed his knees to Crimson’s waist just in time for him to make the jump to the second floor, fingers finding purchase on the thin ledge. He pulled them both inside, and Jasper dropped quickly from his back.

  The room was a small bedroom with a single bed and a tall, thin dresser but not much else. Someone was in the bed, and though Jasper wasn’t sure whether they were a demon, he was sure they weren’t human. He and Crimson made almost no noise as they came in, but the person turned towards them, sitting up in the bed, the sheets falling around their waist. Gently pointed ears showed through shiny blue-black hair, and silver eyes blinked blurrily at them. They seemed to realize the two of them shouldn’t be there, and their lips parted, perhaps to call out to someone else in the house.

  Crimson was by the bed before a sound could escape, grabbing hold of their sharp chin, his other hand cupping the base of their skull. With a quick twist and a short snap, the other slumped back onto the bed, looking almost asleep.

  Crimson looked back to Jasper, eyes red as fresh blood. Jasper nodded and went to the partly open door, listening for movement. He could hear very little over the crooning of John Lee Hooker, and when he peered cautiously out into the hallway, opening the door wider with the muzzle of his gun, he saw no one. He nodded again to Crimson, and the werespider moved past him, into the hallway. They followed the sounds of music to an open living room.

  Shane was sitting on an overstuffed sofa, his arms stretched out along the back of the couch on either side of him, boots rested on a mismatched ottoman. Above him, a female vampire perched like a cat, absently playing with his hair. Another was sitting on the floor by the couch, his cheek rested against the demon’s knee.

  Shane laughed when he saw them. “What’s the matter with you, sugar? You know you don’t gotta go breakin’ into my house just t’get a word with me.”

  The vampires were all around them, and they were strong, Jasper could feel it. Among their number were also two werewolves; a ghoulish, eyeless creature with gray leather for skin; and a winged woman who, while still quite small, resembled an oversized fairy. Shane must have brought them from around the city. Or perhaps they had come with him from wherever he had come from.

  There was no air-conditioning, the spinning ceiling fan above them doing little more than rotating the hot, stagnant air of the crowded room. Jasper’s hands were sweating in the gloves Crimson had insisted he wear, and he felt the flannel sticking to the small of his back.

  Shane looked extremely comfortable. “Anyways, me an’ you already had an appointment. Or did your li’l errand boy over there forget t’give you the message?”

  “I got your message,” said Crimson. “And whatever the con is, I’m not into it. So take your collection of goons—” he spun a finger around to indicate the dozen or so people assembled in the room “—and clear out.”

  “Aww… Don’t be like that, sug.” Shane pouted. He shooed the vampires away from him and stood, putting his hands in the pockets of the flight jacket, resting easy on one leg. “You don’t even know the play yet.”

  Jasper looked at Crimson. “Is this just, like… your whole life? All the time?”

  “Basically,” lamented Crimson.

  “It’ll be fun,” enticed Shane. “Me an’ you. Just like old times.”

  Crimson wavered, just a little, his dark eyes narrowed with a combination of anger and curiosity. “What are you up to?”

  The incubus clapped his hands together, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I thought you’d never ask.” In that moment, he looked and sounded like a small child seeing a real live puppy for the first time. “I’m gonna rob a bank!”

  Crimson groaned. “Oh, c’mon, man. You don’t need my help for that. Just slip in early in spit in all the tellers’ coffee or something.”

  “Gross,” said Jasper pointedly.

  “Not a human bank, y’big dumb galoot. The artifact one. In Jersey. Well… if you’re mincing hairs, near Jersey.”

  “The one in the Atlantic Ocean?” asked Crimson incredulously. “That’s gonna be a huge pain in the ass. I’m not doing it.”

  Shane drew closer. Alan hadn’t been wrong about his big puppy-dog eyes. “But I need you. You’re the only demon I ever met who could speak Atlantean, and besides…” Here he reached for his cheek, the ruby ring on his pinkie glinting in the light from above. “Who else can I trust to protect me from those big scary golem guards?”

  Jasper didn’t think. He just moved, wedging himself in between the two of them before they could make contact, pushing Crimson a step back in the process and sticking the muzzle of his pistol in Shane’s chest. Around them, swords swished out of sheaths, hammers clicked, and the fairy-looking thing rose in the air, her dragonfly wings humming incessantly. “You need to back off.”

  Shane half raised his hands in mock surrender, a little giggle escaping him. “Whoa, take it easy, eye candy.” He gestured vaguely for the others to stand down. Many of the weapons were lowered, but not all of them. “You’re welcome t’come along too if that’s what it takes.”

  “We’re not interested,” said Jasper.
/>
  Shane tilted his head so he could look around Jasper, at the werespider just over his shoulder. “Love the new model, Crim. Much more dashing than the old one. And those eyes. Never seen white before. Where’d you find him? Off world?”

  “Don’t talk to him,” said Jasper. It was obvious the werespider had a weakness for this creature, though why was anyone’s guess. Probably for the same reason he kept putting up with Alan. Or Ivory. “You can talk to me.”

  “Well, aren’t you a regular knight in shining armor?” Shane laughed. “If you’re half as dedicated in the bedroom, he must be fixin’ to have a right proper wedding for the two of you. You’re awful young though. How long you been together? Two… three months?”

  Jasper was prepared for him to say a variety of things, but not that. “We’re, uh… actually just friends.”

  Shane pressed his lips tight together, but the laughter could be heard rattling around inside him, his shoulders shaking with his attempts to contain it. It burst out in a quick guffaw, and he quickly put both hands over his mouth, but it still shone in his eyes. Finally, he got it under control enough to bring his lips over his knuckles. “Handsome and stupid. He’s head over heels. You guys are gonna make a stunnin’ pair. Really. And you don’t gotta fret. I won’t steal him from ya. It’ll just be business”

  “The answer is no,” said Jasper. He had it all wrong. Crimson didn’t think of him that way. If he had, he surely would have said something by now. Of course… he had said things, numerous times, in fact. Almost from the first time they met, come to think of it. But that was just Crimson. He was just kidding. He did that with all of his friends…

  Except Alcander.

  And Max.

  And Abby.

  Who were actually the only other three friends Jasper had ever met, excluding Alan, who shouldn’t have counted for obvious reasons.

  His heart fluttered.

  Shane heaved a sigh. “Well, shit. I didn’t wanna have t’do it this way, but ya aren’t givin’ me a lotta other options.”

  “Shane,” warned Crimson, “don’t.”

  Jasper glanced away for a fraction of a second, looking back over his shoulder towards Crimson. A touch on his jaw had him turning back around. His skin tingled where Shane’s hand touched as it slid around the back of Jasper’s neck to pull his face down towards him. Jasper got a close-up view of those puppy-dog eyes and of Shane’s curled lips before the incubus pushed their mouths together, his hot tongue twisting around Jasper’s. Their teeth clashed together, and Jasper realized with a jolt he was kissing him back.

  Someone seized the back of his shirt, pulling him away. There was a string of familiar curses at his ear and scattered chuckles from around the room. Shane’s laughter was distinct from the others, his dark eyes shining with it behind his thin-framed glasses. He held out his hands, his fingers curling in a beckoning gesture. “C’mere, lover boy.”

  Crimson gripped Jasper’s shoulders hard, holding him back. “Say, why don’t you go pick on someone more your own level, huh? Like a snake, or a jackal, or a pile’a burning garbage?”

  Jasper felt strange, giddy. He wondered if this was how the incubus venom worked. Looking at Shane with his outstretched hands, his crocodile smile, he felt something. But he didn’t feel like getting any closer to him or running off to adopt a bunch of cats.

  His pistol had lowered, pointing down at the floor, and he readjusted his grip. In one quick motion he brought the gun up again. There was enough time for surprise to register on Shane’s face, but not enough for him to get out of the way before Jasper shot him point-blank in the stomach.

  The effect on the room was delayed. Shane cried out, stumbling back to the couch, his hands covering the hole in his belly, the blood seeping through his fingers. He coughed, and blood sprayed from his mouth, speckling his lips. He smeared the tendrils away on the back of his wrist. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that, now, eye candy.”

  The female vampire rushed them first with the fairy thing buzzing a step behind. Jasper spun out of the way, ducking under Crimson’s arms as the werespider reached for her and snatched her out of the air mid-leap. He threw her back into the fairy, and the pair of them crashed into the wall, the fairy’s wings crumpled.

  Jasper was already on the other side of the werespider, back against his. One of the werewolves moved towards them, thick black claws growing from his hands, dark hair spreading down his neck. Jasper shot out his right knee, and he tumbled down with fur still rippling along his spine and fangs still sprouting in his elongated snout.

  The room erupted into a chorus of noise, voices shouting and metal singing and hammers snapping. A trio of shots rang out, the last one with a resounding boom. Crimson’s revolvers were almost deafening in the small space.

  They couldn’t stay here. There were too many, too close.

  They had blocked the door. Jasper couldn’t blame them; it was smart, really. They were two against, what, twelve? Stuck in here, they could make quick work of the pair of them.

  Crimson pointed his gun into the center of the group in the doorway, and from the side of the room a vampire came at him with a machete, intent on chopping off his arm. Jasper moved quickly, stepping in his path and firing off a shot that sent him spinning. He was still off-kilter when Jasper knocked him all the way to the ground with an elbow cracking first into his chest and then into his nose.

  The gray-skinned thing grabbed at him, and someone tried to wrestle his gun from him. The gloves made it hard to keep hold of, but he managed, slamming the butt of his pistol against their head, stunning them long enough that he could pull one of the knives from his belt to stab at what he hoped were vulnerable spots of the gray-skinned thing—the stomach, the chest, the groin, and the neck. He didn’t know what sort of creature it was, but it was vaguely human in shape, and after his onslaught it let him go, leaving thick gray slime where it touched him.

  Jasper ran towards the door, the exit now open, slipping out of the reach of most blades. A sword swung at him and he danced out of the way; it sliced through the tips of his hair and landed across his shoulder. He was out of its range before it could do any serious damage, but it still burned.

  The hallway was long and narrow, ending in a window that had a scenic view of a solid brick wall. Jasper ran towards it, firing as he went to blow out the glass. Crimson was right behind him, throwing open every door in the hall as he passed. Bullets blew through the panels, cheap wood flying.

  As he reached the end of the hall, Jasper put his gloved hand on the sill, briefly feeling the bite of broken glass before vaulting through the opening. He turned his shoulder into a roll as he hit the concrete. They were only on the second story, and though he might have a bruise come morning, he scarcely felt the impact.

  Crimson landed in a crouch in front of him, the long coat puddled around him. They both fired back up at the window.

  A fanged face ducked away with a screech.

  Out front of the building, a bell jingled softly. The squeak of a door long unused.

  “Hey! White eyes!”

  Jasper heard the shot even before he had turned his head to look at the speaker. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Shane standing at the opposite end of the alley, the muzzle of his gun flashing with a second flare.

  Crimson’s arm swept him aside, nearly knocking him from his feet. His shoulder blades struck the brick wall.

  The werespider staggered a step back. Then another as the second shot impacted high on his collarbone. The gun on that side slipped from his fingers; the smooth white sandalwood, now soaked black and steaming, bounced on the cement, spun once on its grip, then fell flat. Crimson raised his left hand and Jasper his right, and both fired down the alley as one.

  Shane dipped away, blood pouring from him like a spigot.

  “Imma fuckin’ kill you!” screamed Crimson at the top of his voice. “You hear me, you little godsdamned weasel?!” The spider moved underneath his skin, stretching it l
ike a poorly fitted suit. The pupils and whites of his eyes were vanished entirely, and strings of venom stretched between his still-human teeth, now stained black. Still hurling threats, he tore after the incubus like an unleashed junkyard dog, and Jasper saw no choice but to follow.

  At the other end of the alley, they caught a glimpse of Shane as he skirted around the hood of an idling car and made for the adjacent alley. Crimson fired again, heedless of the civilian in the car. The bullet went insanely wide anyway. Jasper saw the puff of shattered stone as it chipped off the corner of a building.

  He didn’t understand how Crimson had missed. They were barely twenty feet apart.

  He squeezed the trigger again, but the gun clicked empty. Shane was already scrambling out of sight as if his life depended on it, which it did, because even without the gun, Crimson was bound and determined to follow. Jasper reached to grab the back of his coat, yelling for him to slow down, but his fingers slipped before they could find purchase, and Crimson went sprinting out into the road with the empty revolver still clenched at his side.

  In the swell of oncoming headlights, the werespider missed a step. Then another.

  The approaching vehicle threw on its brakes.

  Crimson ignored it. So did Jasper. He jogged out into the road after him, shouting again for him to stop.

  In what could be best described as a poorly executed stagger, Crimson crossed the yellow line. On the other side, he dropped like a stone. Jasper threw himself to his knees beside him, hand on his back, eyes focused on the corner nearby, sure that Shane would pop back out. It took less than a second for him to decide he wasn’t going to return. All at once, the gears in his mind started winding in reverse, and all the emotions he could not feel during the heat of battle came roaring back.

  He looked down at Crimson.

  He was braced up on his elbow, coughing wretchedly, his whole body shaking. Smoke rolled out of the deep holes near his collarbone and on his chest. He had one foot underneath him and was trying to stubbornly push himself back up, but this only ended with a weak lunge. He would have thrown himself right back on the asphalt if Jasper did not catch him.