The Secret Ingredient Is Love. No, Really

by RoAnna Sylver

  “That was—he crashed through my window!” Jude struggled to keep his voice down, frustration boiling over. “And you could have still told me you knew each other. It would have been nice to know I wasn’t walking into a trap.”

  Jasper shook his head, seeming to have reached a conclusion he didn’t much enjoy. “If I’d told you that, what would you have done?”

  “Trusted him a lot sooner,” Jude said with growing impatience and indignation. Jasper had always had a much looser definition of rules and the truth than he did, and much of their agreements were unspoken, based on mutual familiarity with trauma, recovery, and things done in the dark no one else would understand. Jude had to chase vampires to function. Jasper had to chase adrenaline in the form of backroom deals of questionable legality. But they’d never actually lied to each other’s faces—at least as far as Jude knew. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “No. But you had to make that choice on your own, not because of what I wanted.”

  “You were pretty clear about telling me to go with him!”

  “But not because I trusted him, that’s the difference,” Jasper said, every word adamant and emphasized, as if he wanted to will Jude into understanding. “I didn’t want you to put my feelings above yours—or trust me more than yourself.”

  “I do not—”

  “You just said so, Jude. If I trusted a vampire, that was good enough for you? Enough to make you put aside any of your own feelings, no matter how it hurt? No.” He shook his head again while Jude fumed, unsure who he was more upset with, Jasper or himself. “On the other hand, when have you ever listened to sensible advice in general?”

  “You still should have told me,” Jude said, folding his arms and glowering at Jasper. He didn’t like feeling resentful or distrustful of someone who knew him so well, and vice-versa. He didn’t like any part of this conversation. “I deserved to know.”

  “Like I said, we’re in different places. I didn’t know exactly where you were. And I wasn’t going to force you into a recovery you weren’t ready for.” Jasper was leaning against the counter now, as if he found this interaction exhausting. Jude certainly did, fighting the desire to step around the counter and sink into the chair behind it, as he’d seen Jasper do more and more lately. “Trying to push past these things is never a good idea, ever. Trust me. It would have done so much more harm than good—and not just for you.”

  “Because I’m damaged,” Jude said, voice flat and painfully blunt. “And you thought I’d either kill Pixie, or only trust him because you did.”

  “Damaged? It takes one to know one,” Jasper said with a wan smile. “Grief has a way of muddying the waters. Turning you into someone you don’t recognize. But I was wrong, and I misjudged you. Sorely. Jude, I am so, so sorry.”

  For a few seconds, Jude couldn’t answer. He’d started this exchange furious, betrayed. But as the pieces clicked into place, he just felt tired. “You were trying to protect us, weren’t you? Both of us. Pixie from me, and me from… also me.”

  “Yes,” Jasper said, and Jude could see the hope in his eyes along with the shame. Behind him, Pixie drew a little nearer, perhaps hearing the intensity in their voices die down, or sensing the energetic shift from confrontation to relief. “And I see now, you didn’t need it. I should have known better, Jude. I should have trusted you more. Vampire or not, you’re not going to go mowing down innocents.”

  “Innocent?” Pixie actually giggled, though the sound was strained and more than a little awkward after the tense scene that had just played out around him. “Watch it.”

  “Of course,” Jasper said, giving him an answering smile, one with real amusement and fondness, Jude was only slightly surprised to note. He’d only seen Jasper look at him and Eva like that. Maybe he should have been jealous but all he felt, seeing their familiarity, was relief. They clearly got along and that meant less work for him. “Another misjudgment on my part. Deepest apologies.”

  “For the record, I’m sorry for not saying anything either,” Pixie said, still sounding apprehensive despite Jude and Jasper’s resolution. “I didn’t know if I should. Or if it would change anything. And things were just starting to work out, I didn’t want to...”

  “Shake anything up, I understand,” Jude said, only mildly surprised to find that he actually meant the reassurance. “You played it safe. I might have done the same. In both your places.”

  “I doubt it,” Jasper said with a rueful, but fond, smile. “You’ve always had a much closer relationship with the truth than I have.”

  Jude had, in fact, entertained almost that exact thought not long ago, but decided not to share it. “You were doing the best you could, working with bad circumstances,” he said instead. “My track record… I might have done something dangerous, yeah. Or at least, you had every reason to think I would, I haven’t been the most stable lately. But I don’t know what I would have done if I’d ever actually caught a vampire.”

  “Spray ‘em with holy water,” Pixie supplied, the smile on his face quickly putting any fears of hard feelings to rest. “Then give them a towel. Listen, you didn’t hurt me, which is way more than I expected. All in all, this turned out a lot better than it could’ve.”

  “Still,” Jude said, still looking at Jasper with a renewed sense of understanding. And, somehow, trust. He wasn’t facing all this on his own anymore. Maybe he’d never been. “Last week, if you’d come to me with this… I might have done something I’d regret. But not anymore.”

  “Really?” Jasper’s eyes widened, relief palpable. Relief and something else, what Jude could only think was admiration. “What changed your mind?”

  Jude looked over at Pixie, started to answer, then shut his mouth. Pixie made a pleased noise, looking so satisfied Jude almost said something sharp out of habit. But he held his tongue and Pixie’s smile grew. “It’s good to have friends, isn’t it?”

  “It is indeed,” Jasper agreed, in a tone that suggested this matter was closed, but another was about to open. “And I think I have another one who can help us resolve a potentially treacherous situation, assuming that’s why the two of you are here at all.”

  “Yeah it—wait. Us?” Jude asked, heart fluttering instead of sinking. He was unaccustomed to feeling anything like hope, but he certainly enjoyed it. “You mean you’re coming?”

  “Of course. The nice thing about the truth being out is that now none of us have to face it alone.”

  The mall was dark when Jude and Jasper emerged from the shop. Pixie didn’t step out with them, instead riding securely in Jude’s inside jacket pocket, in his much smaller, winged form. It was safer that way, he and Jasper agreed, and Jude didn’t actually mind being the one to give him a ride. There was something oddly comforting about the warm weight in his pocket, and it did more than he would have expected to calm his nerves.

  Every other store and kiosk was locked down and deserted, lights turned off, the only illumination from mandatory red EXIT signs and Jasper’s store itself. The space seemed much larger, sounds echoing in the stillness. Like the continuous shuffling of cards.

  The pale woman in black looked up at Jude and Jasper as they drew near, their reflections clear in the large, black sunglasses Jude had never seen her without, even now. She never once slowed or stopped shuffling, the motion fluid and automatic.

  “Sorry to come pester you out of nowhere like this,” Jasper began. At the sound of his voice, something started to wiggle in Jude’s pocket and Jude tried to angle his body away from the stranger. To his credit, Pixie had been still and quiet for longer than he’d expected, but he’d just have to sit tight a little more. “But it’s a bit more urgent than usual.”

  “You’re never a bother,” said the woman, shooting him a subtle, crooked smile as she set her deck down and drew one card from the top. She didn’t show it to them, but one dark, angular eyebrow rose over her sunglasses. “Whenever I come to see you, I have a good reason and, so far, you’ve extended me the same courtes
y.”

  “I’d never dream of abusing the privilege,” Jasper said and, though his words were unexpectedly formal, it didn’t sound like he was faking a bit of sincerity. “We had a request—or maybe an offer. I believe I know your feelings on the subject.”

  “Sounds intriguing,” she said, laying the card down. On it, the moon shone bright silver in a starry night sky. Jude couldn’t help feeling uneasy. Jasper, however, looked unbothered. “What kind of request-or-offer?”

  “The kind I think we’d all prefer talking about somewhere a bit quieter,” Jasper said, with a nod back toward his shop. “I should be closing up soon as well, anyway.”

  “Hm,” she said, turning to face Jude as she lay down a card that looked like a man hanging upside-down from a tree, dangling from a rope around his ankle. “And everyone’s up to speed on what deals like mine usually entail?”

  “Not as much as I’d like to be,” Jude said, shooting Jasper a sidelong glance, not tremendously reassured when he got nothing but a serene smile in return. “Who are you, for starters?”

  “A witch,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe.

  “But what’s your name?” he persisted.

  “Valuable, powerful, and mine to give to those who’ve earned my trust.” She pushed back the floppy brim of her black hat to see them better, reached for her coffee, and took a long sip.

  “So we just call you ‘Witch,’ then?”

  “I don’t care what you call me. I don’t trust you yet.” She took another slow drag of coffee and laid a third card. On it, a small, blindfolded figure in bright yellow was strolling along a forest path, accompanied by a little white dog. She must have seen something in the card she liked, because her half-smile came back and stayed. “But I trust that whatever you’re up to with my friend Jasper, it’ll be fun.”

  “Hopefully,” Jasper said as she rose, collecting her cards and coffee cup, which unceremoniously disappeared, despite the conspicuous lack of any trash can or bag anywhere around. The cards could have slipped up her sleeve, but the coffee was another story, and Jude felt a small surge of alarm that he quickly controlled, but didn’t ignore. “But it could also be quite dangerous.”

  “My kind of fun, then,” she said as Jasper waved them inside and through the dim lighting and packed shelves. They didn’t stop at the counter, as Jude expected, instead continuing out through the back exit, into the isolated delivery area that ran behind the mall. The Witch led the way, seeming to already know exactly where she was going. “It’s a back-alley kind of night, isn’t it?”

  “Most are,” Jasper returned. He cast an anxious glance toward the alley opening, but the place looked deserted as the mall and he turned back, satisfied. “But tonight more than most. We’re going up against someone quite formidable and we’d be exceedingly grateful for any assistance you could provide.”

  “Who’s the formidable someone?” she asked, remarkably casually for all this intrigue. Jude couldn’t help but feel a heart-pounding and somewhat nauseating blend of excitement and anxiety. After all this time, he was about to find out what Jasper actually did. And solve the secondary mystery of this ever-present coffee-drinking, card-shuffling enigma.

  “A vampire,” Jude said abruptly, studying her reaction. He didn’t get much of one, just another eyebrow raise from behind her shades. It seemed like she was more surprised by his bluntness than the nature of their request. “He’s huge, wears a lot of black leather, and I think he can control other vampires.”

  “A pair of teenage girls?” she asked without missing a beat. She had an accent he couldn’t place. Spanish, maybe, but he didn’t think that was quite right.

  “That’s the one,” Jasper jumped in much more cordially, except for shooting Jude a faintly warning look, as if he were starting to make a scene in a fancy restaurant. “I take it you know of him.”

  “I’ve dealt with Cruce and his ilk a few times over the years,” the Witch said, voice temperature dropping a few degrees as she said his name. “And for years, they’ve been putting innocent people under their thrall and using them—like those girls. Kids who deserve so much better. The most vulnerable people, these monsters just rake them in and suck the life out of them.” Her voice didn’t rise, exactly, but it did grow more intense, words coming faster as she spoke. “But they’re cowards, like all bullies and tyrants. They resort to mind control to get their way because nobody would give them the time of night otherwise. All those girls need is someone to open their eyes to the truth.”

  “What truth?” Jude asked, still unsure what to make of the strange woman. For a witch, she’d yet to do anything particularly impressive, aside from making some trash disappear.

  “That nobody owns them, fangs or no fangs. They belong to themselves.”

  “So, what, we just tell them that?” Jude said, skeptical words out of his mouth before he quite decided on them. Still, his first instincts were usually right.

  The Witch favored him with a long look that suggested she was keeping her face a practiced neutral in the face of foolish questions. Jude knew the expression, had used it several times to his own advantage, and felt vaguely annoyed at now finding himself on the business end.

  “I tell them this magically,” she said, in a patient tone that only confirmed Jude’s suspicion. “And dispel any holds Cruce has over them, preventing them from being ensnared again. Afterwards, I make sure Cruce never harms them, or anyone else, ever again.”

  “How?” Jude pressed, feeling himself quickly losing his grasp on the situation and hoping to regain some equilibrium.

  The Witch gave a borderline-theatrical shrug, throwing her hands up. “That’s entirely up to him—though by now, I have a good idea what he’ll choose.”

  Jude mentally dug in his heels, and physically folded his arms. He was losing ground, he knew, but couldn’t bring himself to stop his default, somehow-satisfying stubbornness. At least it made him more sensible. “How do we know anything you’re saying is true? How do we know you can help us at all?”

  “Ask your friend,” she said, nodding to Jasper, who gave her one right back. Jude was also getting tired of the feeling that everybody knew one another, everyone but him. “Better yet, ask your other friend.”

  “Other…?” he gave her an eyebrow raise of his own, which she didn’t acknowledge. Instead, she gave him a faint smirk and deliberate nod.

  “The one in your pocket.”

  Before Jude could respond, the pink bat had wiggled out of his inside jacket pocket and flopped to the pavement. By the time he could look, it had a human shape. Pixie waved in a cheerful way that filled Jude with a sense of foreboding, even as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He knew when his bluff had been called—and who’d won this last round.

  “How’d you know?” Pixie asked, sounding more tickled than upset that she’d apparently detected his presence. “I mean, yeah, witch, but still.”

  “I know a lot of things,” she said, perfectly nonchalant, as if sensing the presence of bats who turned into punks was nothing unusual. “When vampires are near. Their habits, the way they think. What to do when they become dangers to others, or themselves. How to stay alive while making sure that danger doesn’t become a catastrophe.”

  “Wow,” Pixie said, giving her a look of awe which, for some reason, gave Jude a pang of something he refused to name as jealousy. He knew his way around vampires too and he didn’t go around bragging about it. But then, even if he tried, the Witch was a lot more convincing than he could ever manage. “Sounds like we’re in the right place.”

  “So you’ll do it?” Jasper asked the Witch, sounding more urgent and driven than Jude had heard in a long time. It was refreshing to hear. All this secrecy and danger agreed with him. “You’ll help us?”

  “Under one condition,” she said, and Jude could feel her studying the three of them from behind her dark glasses.

  “What’s that?” Jude narrowed his eyes, suspicion rising once
again.

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Great!” Pixie sounded genuinely excited—even more than usual. “The more the merrier. Jasper already told me how cool you are, so yeah, I think you going with us would be a really smart thing to do.” He looked to Jude, noted his dour expression, and continued without a missed beat. “And pissing you off would be really not-smart.”

  “Why?” Jude pointedly refused to meet Pixie’s equally pointed look, instead maintaining his stare at the Witch. “What do you really want?”

  “Same as you,” she said, voice level but with an edge he didn’t dare question. “These are dangerous people I’ve been trying to take down for a very long time. I want them gone, or at least unable to hurt anyone ever again—which, for them, also means ‘gone.’ This is just the best chance I’ve had yet.”

  “So now that’s settled,” Jasper said with a bright smile and clap. “How exactly do we proceed? I trust you know the way.”

  “The maintenance tunnels in the sub-basement,” she said as if there’d been no interruption. “They open up into a series of tunnels and somewhere in them is your lair.”

  “Lair?” Pixie repeated, sounding substantially less excited than he had a moment ago. “Why do they have to have a lair? We’re vampires, sure, but we don’t have to live in creepy tunnels. It’s just excessive.”

  “Maybe,” she acknowledged. “But if they’re anywhere, they’ll be in there. It’s dark, hidden, and well-defended. The dramatics don’t hurt either. Vampires do tend to enjoy them. Call it a cultural quirk.”

  “What kind of defenses are we talking about?” Pixie didn’t sound at all comforted by her less-than-satisfactory explanation. Jude could relate.

  “There’s a locked door. You can’t get past a lock?” he asked, still eyeing the Witch warily, then glanced over at Pixie. “Or is it like them and needing to be invited or something?”

  “That’s not the kind of defense I’m talking about,” she said with a slight shake of her head, dark brown hair swaying in shoulder-brushing waves. “The place will be magically shielded, fortified. The kind of protection you need me to get you past.” Her smirk shifted into something closer to a grimace. “But I’ve had a lot of time to practice.”