by Tanith Frost
I roll onto my side and rest my head on one hand. “I’m all ears.”
Trixie leans closer. “Even when we were alive, we were special. We had the blood factor that prepared us for this. We just didn’t know it. We’re not like them. You care about the living as though you’re looking after your family, when in fact they are no more like us than… than a cave man would be to them.”
“Fine. But we were raised by those cave men.”
She throws her hands up, melodramatic to her core. “You’re hopeless. Completely hopeless.”
I drink my tea burning hot, just like Trixie does. It’s fun to feel warm inside, and I need something pleasant now that the good feelings from my feeding have left me. When things are quiet we can go for almost a week without food. I’m wondering now how much more often we’ll have to feed when we’re doing this kind of stressful, draining work. Three times a week? Daily? I could go for a bite now if I could afford it, but we’ll have to wait until Daniel takes us back to the Inferno.
My thoughts circle back to my meal. To my overwhelming hunger before I fed and the temptations my prey brought with him. No, we’re not like the living. I am not the creature I was the night I died, or any day before that.
Maybe Trixie is right. What if I let go and accepted that I’m not like them? If instead of berating myself for wanting to finish off my prey tonight, I revelled in my power and my choice to let him live? I can see how much easier that would be. How much less tempting it would be to fuck up and do things like covering dead bodies as though they deserved that dignity.
The thought could fit. For the first time, I understand that I could slip into it like a pair of jeans that just needs a little breaking in to feel perfectly comfortable.
And yet, I can’t. Not yet. I can’t help feeling like I’d lose myself if I let that idea overtake me.
I sigh and drain my tea cup. I’ll keep Trixie’s words in mind, anyway, for the next time the shadows threaten and I’m in danger of making a fool of myself.
What a mess I am.
“The thing is, Trixie, I can’t—”
“Shh, he’s coming.”
I open myself to him, but Daniel might as well be a ghost for all I can feel him right now. It’s only the creak of the second stair up from our floor that announces him to me. I expect him to continue down, but he stops to look into the room. Trixie shrieks and pretends to swoon as I struggle to sit up.
“Daniel, we’re in our unmentionables!” she cries in a feathery, high-pitched voice, and rests an arm dramatically over her eyes. Her short nightie is slightly less mentionable than my own attire, but it doesn’t matter either way. Daniel’s never interested in ogling.
“I’m going out,” he says. “And for the record, there’s nothing up my ass, my feeding was fine, and I’m not upset with you, Aviva. I just need a break. Understood?”
Trixie sits up. “Can we at least discuss the possibility of—”
“No. I’ll be back around dawn. Try not to wake the neighbours.”
Trixie glares at the empty doorframe after he’s gone and the front door slams closed behind him. “He treats us like children. We could do so much more than just poking around the rogues’ leftovers.” She chews her bottom lip. “Can you imagine how thrilling it would be to track, to hunt, to chase? It’s in our nature, Viva. Maybe if you were allowed to let that out, you’d really feel what you are. Get that separation from the living.”
“Maybe. Listen, I’m going to bed.”
She waves me off and reaches for the blue nail polish on her bedside table.
It’s not her attitude toward them that’s bothering me, or her insane desire to put herself in danger, which I sort of envy. Much as I resist it, there’s a part of me that longs for the level of acceptance that came so easily for her.
I actually don’t know why I want to be alone right now. Maybe I’ve just got too much going on in my head for me to want more conversation rattling around in there.
There’s a note on my bed. I don’t even know when Daniel stopped to leave it.
Aviva—
We need to talk privately. Later.
Daniel
Short and sweet, the perfect opposite of Daniel himself. My stomach twists slowly into a knot as I ponder what this might mean. Maybe he saw my almost-freak-out with the shadows. Maybe he is mad at me for embarrassing him in front of Wallace, but has enough class to not demote me in front of Trixie.
I drop the note on my dresser and put on some loud music, neighbours be damned.
I’ve got thoughts that need drowning.
9
The city is breathtaking from the top of Cabot Tower, a black-velvet expanse of harbour drawn up tight against the glittering landscape that is downtown, with the rest of the city glowing behind it. The weather’s not always clear here, as the tourism commercials imply. But that’s why we stay—for days when daylight is less of a danger, as long as we’re careful.
And then there are the nights, of course. There’s nothing like a clear night, when we can get out and—
A hard slap to the back of my head knocks my thoughts off track.
“Ow!” I shout, and Daniel swats me again. “Quit it! I’m still preparing.” I’m supposed to be finding my focus, locating the deeper part of myself that should be able to sense him coming. I’ve found it before. It helps if I’ve fed, as I did tonight before we came out here. I’m just not there yet.
“You don’t get time-outs in a fight to prepare yourself. You’re lucky I’m going easy on you.”
His hand whips through the air toward my face. I clear my mind as he’s taught me, and my own hand flies up without conscious direction and blocks him. Muscle memory, the payoff for months upon months of getting my ass kicked by this monster. I deflect his other hand as it cuts through the air toward me, but his boot in my side takes me by surprise and sends me flying off the tower onto the cannon platform fifteen metres below. I land flat on my back with a graceless thud and gasp at the pain that shoots through every part of my body.
This won’t finish me. Not even close. But my muscles burn where he kicked me, and my back stiffens in spasms. I’ve learned to disregard pain. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel it.
Guess he’s done going easy on me.
“Get up,” he orders from the top of the tower. “Come after me.”
My mouth twists into a snarl, and I force myself to my feet. I asked for this. He came home and slept all day, then said nothing to me about his note. I suggested a private training session in light of my recent problems, and he agreed.
I’d sort of hoped for a little more conversation and a little less hurtling toward the ground at sixty kilometres per hour, but I’ll take this as a sign that he’s not firing me yet.
It occurs to me that I would miss this if he reassigned me. I would miss the challenge, and even the aches I get in my body after I learn from a half dozen mistakes. I’d miss Daniel.
Holy shit. This is almost getting to be fun.
No matter. He’s pissed me off, now, and I’m not about to get all weepy about what could happen in the future.
“I thought you wanted to talk,” I say, hoping I can get his exact location from his answer.
“I do. Hurry up.” We don’t have to yell to be heard, which is good. We were alone up here when we arrived, but a couple of kids have just arrived in the parking lot to look at the city lights.
Or whatever they’re doing.
Daniel has moved down to the lookout balcony, and I decide to approach from above. It takes me some time to scale the rough stone wall, and I hesitate before I reach the top. It will be impossible for me to sneak up on him, no matter what my approach.
“They parked right beside you,” I say quietly, ignoring the shake in my arms as I grip the lip of rock at the top of the tower. I’m not worried about my voice giving me away. He can feel me already. “Shit, if he opens his door and the wind catches it…”
I clear my mind again and focus on Daniel as I pull myse
lf up and creep over the upper roof of the tower. He’s left himself open. I should probably be insulted, but I’m glad I can practice tracking my quarry. “Idiots,” he mutters, and a small change in my perception of him confirms the shift in his attention.
He won’t give me more than a few seconds, and I doubt that he’s really distracted, but it’s all I’m going to get. I launch myself at him, and he sidesteps my attack, leaving me to land cat-like on my toes. There’s no time for me to congratulate myself for that. I dodge a fist aimed at my nose and attempt to speed up my perceptions. It’s one of Trixie’s gifts, not mine, but she’s taught me a few tricks. It requires a lot of energy to maintain that level of perception, though, and even then I can’t keep it up for more than a second or two. It’s a good thing we fed tonight.
I duck under another swing and head-butt Daniel in the stomach, sending him staggering a few steps back. It doesn’t have the effect it would on someone living, since Daniel can’t have the wind knocked out of him, but it’s one more thing for him to react to.
He grabs the back of my jacket before I can right myself and hauls me up, ready to toss me over the edge again. I twist myself around as he lifts me and wrap my legs around his waist, locking tight to him, clamping my arms around his head so that my body blocks his vision.
He stops moving, lets go, and holds his hands out to the side. “What the fuck, Aviva?” His voice is muffled by the front of my shirt.
I don’t trust him. If I let go, my ass is going to end up on the pavement.
“Get off,” he mumbles.
“Can’t.”
“This is asinine.”
At least, I think that’s what he’s saying. Hard to tell.
“It worked, though,” I point out. “Say I won.”
He pulls his head back and glares up at me. “Fine. But only because I don’t have a weapon and I’m feeling too kindly toward you to attempt ramming you into that brick wall.”
“Whatever. I stopped you.”
He growls, exposing his fangs. “Get your boobs out of my face before I bite them off.”
Oh. I hesitate a moment too long as I realize that this may not be entirely professional of me. I land lightly on my toes and hop up to sit on the low balcony wall, swinging my legs over the edge so I can face the city lights. Daniel sits beside me and shakes his head.
“That was the worst ending to a fight I’ve ever experienced.”
“It’s not Hollywood, Daniel. Whatever works.”
We sit shoulder to shoulder, ignoring whatever those kids in the car below are up to. They won’t pay any attention to us. Daniel has a knack for making himself unnoticeable that goes far beyond most vampires. One of his particular gifts, I suppose.
I can’t help being aware of the spot where our arms touch. It’s by no means a first. Physical contact is a daily reality, and we’ve been sharing a shower and a coffeemaker for a year.
But things are changing. Our roles are changing. And he seems… different.
Or maybe that’s because I can’t stop thinking about him nibbling my tits, now that he’s mentioned it. Asshole.
“What did you want to talk to me about?”
He reaches for the orange paper cup he left sitting on the ledge when we got here and takes a sip. “How are you doing, Aviva?”
Oh, fantastic. We’re in empathy mode again. “I’m fine. Really. Last night was a bit overwhelming at first, but I can handle it. Trixie gave me some good ideas I’m thinking over, and I’m sure I can distance myself next time.”
Now that we’re getting down to it, I realize I definitely don’t want to get kicked off the crew. A chill that has nothing to do with the cold wind creeps over my skin. Maybe he’s being nice to soften the blow.
“I know you can distance yourself. But do you want to?”
It’s a trick question, obviously. He made his opinions on my doubts abundantly clear at the crime scene last night, and no matter how understanding he may be of my personal situation, I know he needs me to suck it up and act like a proper vampire. Yes is the right answer, but if I say it, he’ll know I’m lying.
“Not especially,” I confess, knowing this might seal his decision to find me a new place. Like rehoming a puppy that’s cute, but won’t stop shitting on the sofa. “I know what you’re going to say, and I think you should reconsider. Even if you’re right.”
He continues to watch the city, not so much as glancing at me. “You think you know me so well?”
His voice has slipped out of its plain-as-cardboard North American accent again. Either he’s taking his mask off, or he wants me to think he is.
“I’ve known you for more than a year, Daniel. I’ve lived with you. Trained under you. Learned from you. I know you.”
He arches one eyebrow and finally turns to me. “You know what I’ve let you know. I have my secrets, Miss Viva.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck. “But yes, you know what I’m supposed to say now. That you’re not suited for this work, not if you can’t understand the true place of the living in our world.”
My stomach cramps up.
“But I’ve been thinking about our talk last night,” he says, “and about what happened after. It’s not just a lingering attachment to your humanity, is it? You really care about them.”
I feel like I should apologize for that, but I can’t. “I try not to.”
“I know. And I can’t help wondering if maybe that’s where we’ve gone wrong in your training.”
I shift away so I can turn toward him for a better look. No, it’s still Daniel sitting there. Embrace-your-vampire-nature, never-admit-a-mistake Daniel. “Excuse me?”
He looks away again, frowning. “I see you struggling with trying to suppress your humanity. You have days when you seem to be letting it go, but those are the days when we’re not around them. I saw you watching those people going into that church, acting like you were just killing time, but you were remembering, weren’t you?”
I just nod. He’s obviously thought this speech through, and I don’t want to interrupt. This level of openness is unprecedented for him, at least with me.
“I’d guess you were thinking about how they could go in there,” he continues, “and how you can’t. How you’re not one of them anymore. Not a creature of breath and light.”
There’s no point even agreeing. He obviously knows me far better than I know him.
“So I worry about that.” His frown deepens, carving lines between his eyes and tightening his jaw. “Not so much about how you hang on to it, but about what a struggle it’s become for you. I know you want to do well in your training, even if you haven’t exactly figured out where you want it to take you. But you seem to be fighting yourself on every level, pulling yourself in two directions, always losing ground in both. I think you’re so torn between your desire to be what you are and your need to cling to what you were that you’re unable to accomplish anything.”
Not the most flattering thing that anyone has said to me. “So you think I’m what? Neutralizing myself?”
“More like stalling your engine.”
“Well, then.” The wind off the ocean behind us is getting colder, and it cuts through my jacket. I don’t let myself shiver. “Your theory doesn’t solve anything though, does it? It’s fine to say that I’m holding myself back and I should just be a vampire because I can’t be human anymore, but that doesn’t work for me. I’ve tried, believe me.”
“I know.”
I grind my teeth together, but I can’t help spitting out my answer. “I know you know. You always seem to know everything, don’t you?” I shouldn’t be angry with him. Daniel has been more patient than I deserve, honing the skills I possess and helping me make up for the ones I’m lacking. Even at my lowest moments, Daniel has never let me believe that failure was an option.
My anger fades, if grudgingly. I have no right to be mad at anyone but myself.
He sips his cold coffee again and shoots me a sideways glance. “I do have
an idea, if you’re interested.”
“Please.”
“Let go of it.”
“But I just said that I—”
“Shut up for five seconds, please. Let me finish.” He doesn’t sound angry. “I’m not saying to let go of your humanity. Obviously that isn’t working. The fact remains that you do need to let go of thinking of yourself that way, because it’s not what you are, and that’s not going to change. But maybe you should stop fighting the rest of it. The empathy you feel for them. The way you still value their lives. Your instinctive reactions when you see them misused.”
My stomach flutters. “But that’s all wrong, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know anymore.” He drains the dregs of his coffee and fiddles with the plastic lid, snapping it on and off the cup. “I’ve been a vampire for more than seventy years, and in that time I’ve accepted a certain view of the world. One that keeps us separate and safe. We can’t get weepy over the fates of creatures we consume. But now I find myself wondering if we’re not too quick to force everyone to think the same way.” He curls his lower lip into his mouth and grasps the corner under one fang, letting it roll out slowly as he considers his words. He sighs. “I knew you were going to cause me trouble the moment I laid eyes on you, but I couldn’t help myself.”
It’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. “You chose me? I sort of got the impression Trixie and I were punishment for something.”
A low chuckle rises from deep in his chest. “Well, yes. My current position as mentor was a severe and insulting demotion, if a temporary one. I’m free as soon as I release the two of you onto an unsuspecting world. I had to take someone on, and Trixie was the top recommendation from the nurses. Eager to learn, if a bit of a smartass. But I looked through the files, I observed, and there was something about you that…” He trails off.
“Made you want to take on a challenge?”
He half-smiles toward the harbour. “Maybe that was it. I’m not sure. There’s always been something different about you, a strength hiding below your outer weakness. I couldn’t tell whether you were a damsel in distress or a danger to us all. Perhaps it’s because a year in that place didn’t break you or change you, even as you learned to accept what you were. Or maybe there’s some small, weak part of me that craves that compassion you have. We don’t see it much in vampires. And some of us lose our humanity so quickly that it becomes unnerving.”