Samantha Watkins: Chronicles of an Extraordinary Ordinary Life (Samantha Watkins Series Book 1)

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Samantha Watkins: Chronicles of an Extraordinary Ordinary Life (Samantha Watkins Series Book 1) Page 24

by Aurélie Venem


  “You told her about Finn?” Karl asked Phoenix.

  A storm was coming, a storm that my tactlessness—or rather my pride—had started.

  “Yes. So what? Should I have asked him for permission?” Phoenix said, his voice devoid of emotion.

  Karl stood up and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You are the first one who has to keep our secrets, given your position as angel, and you shared our history with a pathetic human!” he spit out.

  At a speed impossible for humans to follow, Phoenix crossed the distance that separated him from his friend to plant himself face-to-face with Karl. His eyes shone and his fangs were bared. I took a step backward, he was that frightening.

  “Don’t you dare insult her again in front of me! As my assistant, she represents me, and by attacking her, you are using her to target me. So either you change your attitude about her, or get out of here . . . We can get by without your help.”

  The shock of his declaration overrode his friend’s anger.

  “You would set aside five hundred years of friendship for . . . her?” he said, designating me impolitely with his chin and with a disdain that was more than insulting.

  Phoenix’s silence was answer enough. Karl turned and headed for the exit. The unease in the parlor was intolerable. All this was my fault . . . and it made me feel ill.

  “I—” I began to say.

  My boss raised a hand to cut me off. “It’s not your fault. Everything you said was true. Karl is not used to people standing up to him, and certainly not me. He will get over it.”

  “I feel bad about being the cause of the fight, though,” I admitted.

  To our surprise, François spoke again. He talked a lot for someone who was almost entirely mute! “Do not feel guilty, Sam. If Phoenix had not drawn the line with his best friend, what kind of credibility would he have with other vampires?”

  My boss agreed, but I still felt horrible.

  “Come, Sam. If you are ready, we shall go now.”

  I took a deep breath and followed him to the door.

  Our trip to Kerington was somewhat annoying because my stomach wouldn’t stop growling, and it didn’t help my foul mood. Phoenix’s mood wasn’t any better, and our trip was silent until we reached east Kerington.

  “We are going to The Palm,” Phoenix said. “That way, you can eat something. They serve food at all hours.”

  The Palm was a restaurant and a club. Obviously, it wasn’t reputed for its tropical cuisine, but rather for its nearly naked go-go dancers. I’d heard rumors about it, but I was still struck by the tacky decor: Antillean wood tables, statues of Jamaicans smoking huge joints, and tall columns shaped like coconut trees.

  Later, as we were watching the clientele and I was voraciously eating my hamburger and fries, I couldn’t help but revisit the altercation with Karl.

  “Thank you for not letting him say that I’m only a pathetic human.”

  “It was nothing,” he said, distracted.

  “Is it nothing because it’s me, or because you’ve changed your mind about humans?”

  “Both.”

  “What?”

  “Let’s say for a reason that I do not know, you have made me change my opinion about your species. You humans can be . . . very surprising . . .”

  There was a smile in the corner of his mouth.

  “You mean to say strange, ridiculously laughable, hot tempered, and addicted to television,” I added, returning his smile.

  “And don’t forget awkward, clumsy, blushing, and incredibly chatty.”

  I burst out laughing. “Touché.”

  Our evening passed just like the one before, except for the dancing, and we’d had no success when it came to finding the Chinese. When we returned to the manor, Karl was waiting for us on the lawn. When we reached him, I thought it preferable to leave the two friends to resolve their disagreement in private and wished them a good night. I hoped they would reconcile. I didn’t want to be the cause of a long-lasting falling-out between them, so I resisted the urge to listen at the door and went to sleep.

  My sleep was restless, and I woke the next day long before dusk. I took advantage of the extra time to catch up on my work and draft the reports of our evenings pursuing shadows for Talanus and Ysis. The weather had warmed up in the past few weeks, and now I could enjoy some of the May sunshine strolling in the gardens and sitting outside to clear my mind while reading a good novel.

  At sunset, I was still outside relaxing on a blanket and eating my favorite sandwich: butter, ham, egg, tomato. I still had time to savor that soothing tranquility, but when I felt a breeze on my back, I knew my break was over.

  “If you want to frighten me again, maybe you should have avoided overdoing it on the aftershave before coming at me from downwind,” I said, thinking it was Karl.

  “I will try to remember that for next time,” answered a different voice.

  I jumped and turned around.

  “François! Oh, I’m sorry. I thought it was Karl who wanted to play another prank on me.”

  “You do not like him much, do you?”

  He sat down next to me, his question more like a statement.

  “It’s not at all like with you.”

  He seemed surprised.

  “Oh . . . oh! Don’t be mistaken, I don’t like you . . . I mean, yes, but no . . . oh crap . . .”

  He laughed. My next one-woman show should be called “How to Make a Vampire Laugh in Ten Easy Lessons.”

  “Let me start again. From the moment I met you, I thought you were nice, maybe because of what Phoenix told me about you, I don’t know. But Karl . . .”

  “He is not always very gentlemanly.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “Do not condemn him. He is not malicious, and he is very attached to Phoenix.”

  In certain circumstances, silence is golden, so I said nothing.

  “Just like you,” he concluded.

  Oh, no, what was he going to think now?

  “I’m not in love with him if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

  I was on the defensive and he knew it.

  “Really?”

  “I’m not an idiot. Loving him would be sentimental suicide, seeing how he looks at romanticism. No. I’m deeply connected to him, that’s true, but that’s not love.”

  Good grief, how on earth did I end up talking about this with François?

  “Anyway, I am happy that you are at his side. He could certainly use an assistant, you know. He is the best angel in our community. All the sector chiefs envy Talanus and Ysis and dream of having Phoenix in their service. Until now, he hasn’t been friends with anyone other than Karl and myself. I find that he has changed since you have been here. He seems . . . happy, to no longer be alone.”

  “He said he chose me so he wouldn’t have to do paperwork anymore.”

  “If he said that, that is because it is true.”

  It was really strange talking to this man. Anyway, wasn’t he supposed to be permanently walled up in silence?

  “François? Excuse my forwardness, but Phoenix described you as someone . . . someone not very chatty. However, since I met, you’ve been quite talkative, and it surprised Phoenix.”

  He laughed. “That is how Phoenix presented me? That is truly the pot calling the kettle black. But it is true that I only talk when I think it is important. I do like talking with you.”

  “That’s nice of you. Phoenix should follow your lead for conversation because sometimes he thinks his scary face is sufficient to make his deepest thoughts known. Except it’s not that simple.”

  “Hm. All vampires tremble at the sight of the bluish flashes of his eyes when they become luminescent, and it takes a lot to make a vampire tremble.”

  “However, there’s so much more in his eyes . . . ,” I said without thinking, remembering the moment when I could see deep in his eyes during our dance.

  François was polite enough to not notice my comment,
and instead started another subject of conversation—one that was less charged and, so, more enjoyable.

  “So, do you like science fiction?” he asked.

  Thus we began a passionate debate on the best books and series in our field of expertise. Talking with François was a pure delight, and we were chatting like old friends when suddenly he froze . . .

  “He is calling for us. It is time.”

  I hadn’t heard anything, but my friend had a much more sensitive sense of hearing than I did. Walking back, I asked him how tailing Thirsty Bill was going.

  “There is nothing to say about it. It is deadly boring. And you?”

  “Same. Easier to find a needle in a haystack.”

  We both sighed at the same time. On that bitter note, we rejoined our partners in silence before resuming our tasks, the inefficiency and uselessness of which made us all crazy for several weeks.

  The month of June brought us sun and warmth, yes, but also horrible news. Kaiko and Ichimi had equally failed to find a trace of our Chinese vampires, Bobby the Eel hadn’t sent any word, and most important of all, the Greats were giving Talanus and Ysis until July 15 to take care of the situation, or they would come to take care of it themselves. That meant that Phoenix and his bosses would be among the first to be cleared out, and in barely a month. Of course, if they were gone, I would also be dismissed . . . at best.

  Physically it was becoming difficult to sustain the rhythm of our work. I was more exhausted than ever and more and more nervous about the impending deadline. By contrast, my boss seemed serene at the idea. What was bothering him was not so much the perspective of his death, but rather the repeated failures of our attempts to put an end to the disappearances.

  One evening when we were, as usual, at a club, exhaustion got the better of me, and I passed out, pure and simple. Phoenix had just enough time to catch me before I crashed to the ground, and through the fog of unconsciousness, I heard him grumble, “All this is useless, except for just passing time.”

  Then I saw the black hole again.

  The next day, he ordered me to stay in Scarborough to rest.

  “It was just a momentary weakness. I want to help you. I’m coming,” I protested.

  But Phoenix wouldn’t give in and gently declined my offer.

  “You cannot help me in the state you are in. Your concern is touching, but you are staying here, end of discussion.”

  Defeated, I was given two whole days to rest. Good grief, I truly needed it.

  It was high time that I saw my friends again too. Angela and Matthew must have been wondering whether I’d vanished into thin air. I called Angela, who didn’t take offense at my temporary disappearance; I explained that my grandfather had had a drop in blood pressure and I’d needed to stay at his bedside.

  She told me that she and Matthew were going to a movie that night, and that she would let him know I’d be joining them.

  I spent the day reading in my boss’s library and looking forward to the evening with my friends. Though I thought about work, I knew Phoenix was right: in this state of exhaustion, I wouldn’t have been of much use to him.

  I was about to head to town when I saw François and Karl leaving their guest rooms. I had heard Phoenix leave a bit earlier.

  “All this is leading nowhere. We are wasting our time. This guy can put on airs all he wants. He has nothing to do with this business.”

  Karl seemed furious.

  “Phoenix seems to agree with you. As proof, he does not want us to follow Thirsty anymore. He told me before he left. Oh, good evening, Samantha.”

  Karl ignored my presence. “He is dropping it?”

  “I am afraid that he is going to admit the outcome of this investigation, and he wants to get us out of the way so that the Greats will not be any more interested in us than necessary,” François reasoned.

  “To hell with those wannabe kings! Who do they think they are?”

  I’d never heard Karl so incensed before. Apart from the future that they were reserving for his best friend, he must not hold the Elder vampires in great esteem. But suddenly, he remembered that I was only a few inches away from them, and he recovered his look of seduction.

  “Good evening, Samantha.”

  Even if that annoyed me, I had to admit that I was happy Karl was staying, despite his oversized ego. The worry he felt for my boss was touching.

  “Good evening, both of you. So we got nothing from Miller?”

  “As well as being an idiot, that pig is a weakling and a megalomaniac.”

  Karl’s description seemed a tiny bit exaggerated. When Thirsty had thrown Phoenix to the other side of his office, I hadn’t thought he was weak at all . . .

  “Phoenix was sure he was hiding something,” I said.

  “That’s for sure. When his idiot of a creator transformed him, his intelligence must have gotten lost on the path to vampirism.”

  Karl was suggesting that Miller’s intelligence had remained at the human stage, meaning the lowest level. I felt my temper rising, but François rolled his eyes to the sky to make me understand that taking offense at that kind of remark was a pure waste of time. He was right.

  “Where are you going, Sam?” François asked to change the subject.

  “Phoenix ordered me to rest, but I need a change of scenery. Some friends are waiting for me in Scarborough to go to the movies.”

  “Great. We also need a little time off. Let’s go,” Karl declared.

  “What?” François and I exclaimed in unison.

  Seeing our shocked faces, our German friend sighed. “Come on, let’s go. It will do you good to loosen up from time to time, my friend. As for you, Sam, do not fear. We will not blow your cover. We will say we are distant cousins.”

  Very distant, in his case.

  “Fine, very well. But I’m warning you, we’re taking my car, I am driving the way I want, and I will tolerate no commentary.”

  “I am eager to see that,” he teased.

  The trip was punctuated by exasperated sighs related to the slowness of my driving. Even though François stayed quiet in the backseat, I could tell that Karl was impatient in the passenger seat.

  “I said no commentary!”

  “What now? Did you mean any unfortunate word that leaves my mouth?” Karl seemed offended.

  “Pff . . .”

  As we pulled up in front of the movie theater, Karl suddenly sat up straight.

  “Good heavens! Who is that bombshell over there, next to the unsuccessful bodybuilder?”

  I didn’t appreciate his vocabulary, even less so since he was describing my friends.

  “Those are my friends Angela Schumaker and Matthew Robertson, and I beg you to remember your manners.”

  Not at all impressed by my intervention, he contented himself with checking out his reflection in the rearview mirror, which he turned toward himself with no regard for safety.

  “Hey! I already regret giving you permission to get in my car,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Karl laughed. “That’s good, Cousin, you understand it all now. But car or not, I would have come, if only to meet that beauty over there.”

  I couldn’t do anything other than hope Angela didn’t fall for Karl or be hurt by his weapons of mass seduction.

  As soon as I parked, Karl got out of the Buick like an emperor stepping out of his chariot of triumph, without an audience, and sported his biggest smile.

  We walked over to Angela and Matthew, who were certainly wondering who my bodyguards were. I was afraid of the outcome of this meeting, but the situation took a turn so unexpected that even now, just thinking about it, I feel shocked all over again.

  “Angela, Matthew, hi, this is—”

  I didn’t have the time to finish before Karl grabbed Angela’s hand, kissed it, and introduced himself.

  “Karl Sarlsberg, at your service. I am a distant cousin of Samantha’s.”

  “From the family tree’s stupid branch . . . ,” I could
n’t help muttering under my breath. Karl took advantage of the fact that I was next to him to give me a swift kick to the tibia. I held back a cry of pain and the slap he deserved. The idiot hadn’t held back his strength, and I was going to have a bruise. What a brute.

  “I must say that Samantha told me of your beauty, but this is beyond belief. You are out of this world.”

  Completely taken aback, Angela could only say, “Uh . . . pleasure.”

  Her not very enthusiastic reaction disappointed Casanova, who frowned and imperiously ignored Matthew’s offered hand.

  But nothing could have unnerved us more than what followed.

  Karl finally deigned to move over to clear the way for François, whose patience would have deserved awards. Then it happened.

  François and Angela had stepped closer to introduce themselves, stopped suddenly, and faced one another directly. They seemed perfectly happy to freeze in this moment of mutual contemplation. If it hadn’t been reality, you could have believed that someone had pressed pause on the DVD remote.

  Matthew, Karl, and I looked at each other, wondering what was happening to Angela and François. When they finally shook hands, I understood.

  I had just witnessed love at first sight, like in Hollywood films. They couldn’t tear their eyes away from each other, and their handshake looked like a soft caress that lasted longer than necessary. The electricity that seemed to be running between their fingers started to remind me of something . . .

  But before the memory could fully surface, an indelicate and imperious throat clearing put an end to the scene in front of me. No need to clarify who made that disgraceful noise, which he followed by saying, “All this gushing is interesting, but we are going to miss the film.”

  The Karl I hated just reappeared in all his splendor, his oversized ego enormously injured, his verbal cruelty determined to enter the fray. Cooled and confused, François and Angela moved away from each other, red-faced with embarrassment—at least Angela was, and surely François would have been if he could have. A little disconcerted, my vampire friend greeted a beaming Matthew.

  Apparently, the lightning strike of love hadn’t escaped him either, and he seemed sincerely thrilled. It was at that moment that I knew with certainty that Matthew didn’t feel any connection beyond a fraternal one for Angela or else he wouldn’t have seemed so happy.

 

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