Nine Lives of Chloe King

by Celia Thomson

  “What happened?” Chloe asked as gently as she could, considering there was a crazy murdering adult below her wailing and prostrating himself.

  “When I learned the news of our Pri—of Sergei’s death, I grew incensed and swore vengeance!”

  Chloe turned to glare at Igor.

  “He wasn’t around when I passed along your novengeance thing,” he protested. “And even if he was, well, tensions were running a little high. …”

  “I went to a place where I knew there would be one of the filthy human Order patrolling,” Dmitry said, a hard glint in his eye as he recalled. “And killed the coward with my bare claws.” Then he began to weep again. “I thought I was avenging our leader, our great protector…. I knew you were the One, but he was as a father to us in the days between you and the One before. …”

  “Do you remember which one you mur—uh, killed?” Chloe asked.

  Dmitry shook his head. “They are all alike—brown hair, terrible smell—he was one from the skirmish the other night.”

  He sounds more Klingon than Mai, Chloe noted.

  “You’ve heard my new rule? No more bloodshed, except in self-defense?” Chloe asked.

  “Yes, Honored One. Of course. Our duty is to protect the Pride, not declare war.” He looked up at her, his crazy face streaked with tears but set with new resolve.

  Chloe wasn’t sure if he was asking forgiveness; she wasn’t sure that she could have given it. There were more important things to deal with immediately. What was it they said on TV? Damage control?

  She tried to block out the image of the man before her ripping out the throat of some nameless human, tried to forget that there was a murderer at her feet. Murder. Someone’s life snuffed out because he was in the path of an angry, vengeful cat person. Not that anyone in the Tenth Blade was exactly innocent, but what if it was someone like Brian? Forced to join, not exactly in complete agreement with the tenets …

  Chloe went around to Sergei’s desk and did the only thing that made any sense—she called Whitney. Directly.

  “Hello?” From the obnoxious tone in that one word, she could tell he already knew who was calling.

  “Whitney, we need to meet now. This is the second death in a week from our stupid little war—we need to end it.”

  “What second death?”

  Chloe looked at Igor and Olga and Kim. They all shrugged—whoever Dmitry had killed, apparently his body hadn’t been found yet.

  “One of my people killed one of your people in revenge for Sergei’s death, against my orders. I don’t know who it is, but you might want to issue a roll call.”

  “Son of a—”

  “See? I’m calling you to tell you about it. I’m being open and honest in an attempt to end this… craziness.” Amy had a much better word, but somehow Chloe suspected Mr. Whitney H. Rezza didn’t know Yiddish.

  “If you think I’m going to thank you for being the first to let me know about the death of one of my Order or break down weeping and beg for a truce, Miss King, especially from you…”

  Chloe wondered if it would have been any different if she had been male. Or older. He only called her “Miss” when he was really upset and looking to insult her.

  “Listen. Remember how I asked you about your son?”

  “What does—?”

  “We have him. Alive. Barely.”

  There was finally silence on the other end. This was a gamble; he seemed more than willing to give Brian up to other members of the Order of the Tenth Blade who thought he had betrayed them by helping Chloe. But Brian was his son, after all, and she bet that whatever fate he wanted, it probably didn’t involve him ending up at the mercy of the Mai.

  “If you want to see him again, alive, you will come to”—somewhere public, somewhere safe—“Pier 39, at seven o’clock, with all your little cronies or whatever. This whole thing is ending today, one way or another, Mr. Rezza.”

  She hung up on him again.

  It was kind of nice.

  She looked up—Olga, Kim, Igor, and Dmitry were all staring at her.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “You don’t, uh”—Igor cleared his throat—“sound like the intern we hired a couple of weeks ago, Honored One.”

  Chloe just smiled, saving her energy for things greater than laughing.

  Seventeen

  “I have never seen these up close,” Kim said, intrigued by the sea lions. She leaned dangerously over the rail, a black baseball cap and her willowy wispiness making her easily mistaken for an overeager young boy.

  “You’ve lived in the Bay Area your whole life and you’ve never seen the sea lions before?” Chloe asked, amazed. Brian tried to stay alert in a wheelchair nearby; Dmitry and Ellen stood guard over him. With his good looks and their weird presence Brian was occasionally mistaken for a celebrity; tourists took candid shots of him, thinking he was somebody. Besides this being amusing, Chloe liked having the extra witnesses.

  Brian hadn’t been completely on board when she told him her plan; he thought it was dangerous for her—and any other Mai involved. But when Chloe asked him what else she could possibly do, he didn’t have a better idea.

  Amy, Paul, and her mom were with him, too; Chloe wanted everyone who was involved to witness whatever occurred. Alyec pretended to pitch Amy headfirst into the water a couple of times, and Paul even offered to help once. I’m sure sublimated anger has nothing to do with it, Chloe thought. Olga was eating a soft-serve ice cream cone, though from her figure it looked like the concept should have been alien. I wonder if she’s also a dairy cat.

  About a half hour after the sun set—it was hard to tell, it being one of those cold gray San Francisco fall days—Whitney strode up with a sleek umbrella he swung like a swagger stick, his expensive raincoat unfurling behind him. There were other people with him, mostly middle-aged, some younger.

  “Where is my son?” Whitney demanded immediately.

  “I’m right here, Dad.” Brian waved weakly.

  His father’s face went white when he saw the extent of his son’s injuries.

  “What have you done to him …?” Whitney demanded, coming forward, his face now going purple with rage.

  Igor stepped easily between him and Brian, arms poised. Ellen and Dmitry loomed forward.

  “We didn’t do anything.” Chloe resisted the urge to add, old man. “I found him, practically dying, in an alley. Your people did this to him.”

  The old man didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t deny or confirm it.

  “It was Dickless, Dad,” Brian said, his thin voice almost lost in the evening breeze and wails of the sea lions. “He and his little bitches took me by surprise. They left me for dead.”

  Whitney opened his mouth and closed it again several times. “Richard is dead,” he finally said. “The Mai killed him last night.”

  “Oh,” Brian said. “Darn.”

  “See, this is exactly what I mean!” Chloe said, frustrated. “Sergei was killing his own people for power, your people are killing your own people just for—I don’t know, old rules. Maybe power as well. And for what?” She looked around at everyone gathered there. “What really has been the reason you both have been at each other’s throats for so many thousands of years?”

  “The Order of the Tenth Blade exists to protect humanity from those stronger who would easily defeat them,” Whitney said dramatically.

  “Would you take a look?” Chloe threw her hand out at her Mai friends. “If your intelligence is half as good as ours, you know that there are less than a hundred of us in the West. A hundred, Whitney. That’s less than the Native Americans, or Tibetans, or Jews, or any other dwindling, oppressed minority!”

  “Hey,” Amy muttered. “I don’t think we’re dwindling.” Paul kicked her to shut up.

  “Forget the Tenth Blade: one good earthquake or fire or dirty bomb or terrorist attack and there’d be no more Mai west of the Mississippi. When was the last time, exactly, the Mai actually posed a threa
t to continued human existence?”

  “We have always been there to stop it,” Whitney said, drawing himself up. But from the looks on the younger members’ faces, he wasn’t really convincing anyone.

  “And let us not forget the original reason for our existence,” a middle-aged woman said, stepping forward. “The villages and cities that were wiped out—”

  “Because you raped and murdered one of our sisters!” Igor said, also stepping forward.

  “Five. Thousand. Years. Ago. Jesus Christ, guys, let it go!” Chloe glared back and forth at both of them. “And may I remind you”—she addressed this to the Order—“the Mai are not vampires who prey on the living. You are not vampire slayers who protect the innocent.”

  “They are fell, foul beasts spawned from the pits,” one of the other Tenth Bladers spoke up. “Their existence is anathema to God. Thus they are punished to never have a home and never commingle with true humans.”

  “You sound like the Rogue,” Chloe muttered. “Who, by the way, is an insane psycho killer. And anyway, the whole five-thousand-year-curse thing seems to be over. Brian and I have not only, uh, kissed multiple times, but…” She didn’t want to say it, but if it would further the cause, as it were, well, illusions of her chastity didn’t really count much against dead bodies. “Last night, we, uh … Look, anyway, the point is, he’s fine.”

  There were shocked looks from everyone, especially Amy. Chloe had sworn to her years ago she would be the first to know when It happened. Technically, it wasn’t “It” yet—she had no desire to get pregnant on top of everything else that was going on in her life right now. But what happened was close enough to It to count.

  Brian was blushing furiously, trying to meet his dad’s eyes.

  “In fact,” Chloe said, raising her voice so everyone could hear—and hoping she wouldn’t be considered a slut, “I made out with another human before I ever even met Brian.”

  “Wait, what?” Brian looked shocked and a little sad.

  Chloe ignored him. “And he’s fine, too. Look, the point is, there is no divine thingy against Mai and humans, uh, loving. We can mix and mingle and mate with no dire consequences.”

  “The curse seems to have been lifted because we helped save two humans,” Kim spoke up, “Chloe’s mother and Brian.”

  Chloe didn’t want to meet Alyec’s eyes, which were wide with disbelief. No doubt there would be awkwardness and explanations later, even though they were split up.

  But her assumption that he was thinking about her was suddenly dashed when Alyec grabbed Amy and kissed her, long and hard. A little too long and hard—Paul and Kim began to look away nervously—but Amy didn’t resist. At all.

  When they came up for air, Alyec looked her in the face. Amy took a breath, waited a moment, then shrugged. “Nothing. I mean, it was great—but I don’t feel weird or anything.”

  This was not exactly how Chloe had imagined humans and Mai would start to get along better, but hey, it was something. And come to think of it, her usually extroverted friend had been kind of quiet recently. It was only fitting that she steal the spotlight for a moment of silliness during an otherwise deadly encounter.

  Edna and Whitney looked appalled, as did other older members of the Order—and Olga and some of the kizekh. Chloe might be mistaken, but some of the other ones looked intrigued. Not everyone can study sexy cat people without getting a little intrigued. Opposites attracting and all that.

  “The Rogue was just arrested, by the way,” Paul interrupted, looking at the news on his phone. “About an hour ago. He’s wanted in connection with over a dozen murders…. Uh, anywhere else I would say it’s the death penalty with the sort of proof they have against him, but I think he’s probably going to be committed.”

  “Welcome to America, lads,” Chloe said sweetly to the Tenth Bladers. “And you all were born here. This is the way justice happens, not through vigilantes.”

  “You risk exposing the existence of your own people in doing this,” Edna said, but from the baffled look on her face it was obviously a move none of them expected.

  “How?” Chloe asked. “You really think that they’re going to believe a raving serial murderer when he tells them that all of his victims were actually cats, with claws and slit eyes? Look, I’m still proposing a truce. A real truce. You can go on watching to make sure none of the kitties go rabid and start a killing spree, but no more violence. If something happens—on either side—it gets dealt with by the police. No more gang wars, no more internecine, uh, necines, and guess what that will mean? No more innocents gunned down along the way.” She gave Brian’s dad a hard look in the eyes.

  “Even if we were to take you up on this ’truce,’” Edna said, covering for Mr. Rezza while he recovered from the remark, “there still remains the little problem of inequity.”

  “What do you mean? Sergei’s dead, Richard’s dead, the Rogue will probably go to prison or whatever,” Chloe said, thinking furiously. But she came up with nothing. “We’re even.”

  “Not exactly.” Brian’s dad cleared his throat and spoke up, once again at ease. “There is still the matter of our member who Sergei killed at the Presidio. As far as I can tell, no Mai were even permanently injured in the tussle.”

  “What do you want me to do about it?” Chloe asked before she could stop herself. As soon as she said it, she knew it was a mistake.

  “What Edna said. Equity. The boy Sergei killed and Sergei are dead. But the Mai who killed Richard is still alive. Sacrifice him or her, and we will consider your truce.”

  Whitney smiled an easy smile of confidence. I’ve won, it said.

  “No!” Ellen cried, not with fear, but fierceness. She grabbed Dmitry’s arm, her claws extending, her eyes slitting, elongated canines coming out.

  As one, the Tenth Bladers stepped back. Chloe could see why just the Mai’s existence might terrify some people. Seen this way, they really were kind of like monsters.

  “Ellen,” Dmitry said calmly, “if this is what the Honored One chooses, this is what must be done.”

  Chloe panicked. All of her posturing about peace and truce and it had come down to this—a situation she couldn’t win. Leaders sometimes have to make sacrifices they don’t like or don’t want to, to achieve their goals. But she couldn’t just coldly offer up someone—someone she had watched Star Wars with, someone she knew—to die to seal a truce of her making. He even looked willing, as if he was ready to pay for what he had done. Or maybe it was just a look of hopelessness after Sergei’s betrayal of the Pride.

  With one word, Chloe could send him forward, let the Tenth Bladers kill him, and guarantee a lasting, bloodless future between the Mai and the Order of the Tenth Blade. Wasn’t it worth the death of one person?

  Yes. But not his.

  She could offer up someone else, however.

  “No, not Dmitry; he was doing what he thought was right at the time.” Chloe took a deep breath. “I offer you myself in his place.”

  Eighteen

  A single white gull traced a gentle arc over everyone’s heads before heading out over the water. In that one instant, everything was hushed. Then it was over.

  “What?” Amy, Brian, and her mom all shrieked at once.

  “As the Chosen One, I have nine lives to be given in protection of my Pride,” Chloe said slowly. “I think this counts as protecting our future. I offer up one of my lives in the name of ’equity’ if this will mean a truce.”

  It was hard to say who was more shocked—the Tenth Bladers or the Mai. The Mai looked more horrified, the Order of the Tenth Blade more confused.

  “I hardly think that’s fair,” someone from the back of the crowd of the Order called. “It’s not really like anyone’s going to permanently die on their side. …”

  “Oh, shut up, Carlos,” Edna snapped. A pair of tourists walked by, well within hearing range, pointing at the sea lions. “Whitney?”

  “The choice is yours, Mr. Rezza,” Chloe said quietly. “You
can let the killing go on or be remembered as the leader who brought peace to both sides.”

  “And in a group that has a five-thousand-year memory, that’s not too bad,” Olga added. “For both groups.”

  That was it. That was key. Blood sacrifice, sure, but ego was everything. Whitney was getting old, and it was obvious Brian wasn’t going to follow in his footsteps. The line that had ruled as head of the Order ended with his generation. His second choice, Richard, was dead.

  The two tourists didn’t seem to notice what was going on as they pushed their way through the Mai and the Order to get closer to the sea lions. The kizekh and soldiers of the Tenth Blade shifted uneasily, but after two bright camera flashes the couple waddled off again, happily oblivious.

  “Chloe, don’t do this,” Brian whispered.

  It wasn’t like she exactly wanted to. Dying twice by mistake and coming back was strange—and, if you really put a lot of thought into it, possibly explainable. Her fall from Coit Tower and survival was a miracle. Being shot in the heart and recovering, well, it was really weird, but not completely unheard of. And her little trips to the Mai afterworld? Low-oxygen-to-the-brain hallucinations.

  She didn’t have the trust in the Twin Goddesses that Kim had. She only had experience.

  Chloe hoped her fear didn’t show.

  There was a long, tense silence as everyone watched Brian’s dad, waiting for his response.

  “I think it would be … amenable to us, this solution you propose,” he said slowly. There was something strange in his face as he looked back and forth between Chloe and Brian. Almost like he realized that his son, brutalized by his own people, was in love with a member of the race he hated.

  Guess who’s coming to dinner, Chloe thought, trying to bolster her courage.

  Whitney gestured to a couple of Tenth Bladers. “Make sure no one … comes by and interrupts us.” Several military-looking men and women slipped quietly into the thinning crowds that strolled by the pier on the boardwalk.