“Oh yeah,” Pixie said, smiling as he leaned forward. “You are so invited.”
Nothing in the past few days had been what Jude expected, and this was no different. Vampires were supposed to be terrifying, lethal, predatory monsters, sharp-fanged and bloodthirsty. Everything about Pixie was soft and warm in Jude’s arms, including his lips. Even the small points of his fangs weren’t painfully sharp, would never be. He sighed into the kiss like he was slipping into a warm bath after the longest night of his life, and Jude felt every aching muscle in his own body relax into a peace he hadn’t known for five very long years, if not longer. When Jude pulled him close to sink down together onto his battered couch, it felt like coming home. The night wasn’t deadly, the shadows weren’t threatening, and Pixie didn’t taste like death. Far from it.
Hot, spicy steak sauce, like kissing vampires, was an acquired taste. But nothing was sharp here, or cold, or missing. Nothing hurt. For the first time in so long, they were alive. And with every passing moment, Jude acquired more of a taste for both.
The next day, Eva felt almost normal. ‘Almost’ because her definition of normal tended to involve more exhaustion and stress than others’ and, today, she felt rested, relaxed, and somehow reset. New page, new game. Nothing was going to throw her for a loop today, she thought—not even The Pit’s door flying open as soon as she got close. She jumped back, narrowly avoiding another blow to her still-sore nose. At least she didn’t have coffee this time.
“Whoop, sorry!” said the short girl who shot out the door, stopping just before barreling into Eva. She had also-short, spiky blonde hair and carried an umbrella in one hand, a takeout box with a familiar red logo in the other. She wore long sleeves and gloves despite the warm day, and her face had an odd, grey cast to it—but that might have just been the umbrella’s shadow. “I mean, excuse me.”
She held the door with her foot as another girl came out, also carrying a takeout box and umbrella. This one wore a t-shirt over her long sleeves, bright red and reading We’ll Meet You in The Pit! She was much taller and a darker shade of grey. The smile she shot Eva flashed by quickly, too fast for Eva to be sure if the points to her teeth were real or imagined. “Have a great day!”
Before Eva could answer, they were gone, sprinting away across the polished mall floor. Eva opened her mouth, ready to call no running after the fast-disappearing teenagers, but thought better of it, shaking her head. For once, she’d take the advice she’d given to Jude, who should be back on duty today. Sometimes, she didn’t have to carry the world on her shoulders. Somewhat startled, but regaining composure fast, Eva headed into the restaurant and its relative quiet.
The Pit was an oasis of low lighting and music—some kind of freeform jazz, which Eva had never especially enjoyed, but had to admit fit in here. According to Magnolia, the place was just starting to catch on, and soon they might actually turn a profit. Starting up a restaurant in this God-awful economy (she’d been known to say to anyone who’d listen) would have been a mistake for most people, but not them. The place was Dorian’s brainchild. While she oversaw management and finances, he had free reign to experiment with meats and spices, blood-infused sauces, and other things Eva hadn’t really paid much attention to until they became personally relevant. She had to admit, judging from the ambiance to the wafting savory smells, they’d pulled it together pretty well.
Eva could count the number of times she’d actually been inside on one hand, though now seemed to be a good time, in the lull before the lunchtime rush. Only a few people sat scattered at small tables-for-one, or at the bar. One large corner booth, however, was occupied by a single woman. She didn’t look up, seeming focused on shuffling a deck of cards, but Eva had the immediate feeling that she was aware of everything in the restaurant, including her.
“I see you met the new delivery girls,” she said as Eva approached. She never looked up, or stopped shuffling her cards, but a smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. “They’re a little over-enthusiastic, but I think it’ll be a good fit.”
“Were they…” Eva started, pointing her thumb over her shoulder and throwing the door a glance, before shaking her head. “Never mind. Hi, I’m Eva. Heard you were a big help to some of my friends a few nights ago.”
“Letizia,” she answered, shooting her a quick glance as she shuffled. How many times had Eva walked by her doing exactly this outside Jasper’s store? They’d exchanged nods on a few occasions but never words. Odd to think that so much strangeness and truth was there all the time, never far away. “And it was my pleasure entirely. I’ve been waiting a long time to take out that particular trash.”
“Almost makes me wish I’d been there,” Eva said, remembering Felix’s haunted eyes and burned palms, the way Jude’s face went even paler than usual when he tried to talk about anything she’d missed. “Almost.”
“And what about now? Seeking answers?”
“Not so much,” Eva said, sliding into the booth across from her new acquaintance. “If you’d asked me that a few days ago, I would’ve said something different. But now I’ve got about all the answers I can stand. I mean, vampires?” She gave a short, bemused laugh. “No offense, but you’re a little out of my frame of reference. What am I supposed to do with that information?”
“It was a shock for me too,” Letizia said, sounding a little more thoughtful than her customary quips. “But you get used to it.”
“Do you mean just knowing about it,” Eva asked carefully, lowering her voice. “Or actually… being one?”
“Both.” Letizia stopped shuffling and set her cards down in a perfectly aligned stack. “All of this ‘information’ was as unbelievable and terrifying a century and a half ago as it is now. Maybe more.”
“Yeah, where did you say you were from, Venice?” Eva suppressed a sympathetic grimace. “Kind of Church Central, right? Especially a hundred or so years ago.”
“Some things never change, even if we do.” Letizia flashed her pointed teeth in a tight smile. She lay three cards facedown in a line on the table between them. “The Church still breathes down peoples’ necks, but at least here they do it from a distance. Fortunately, I wasn’t left to figure everything out on my own. And neither, it seems, are you.”
“Yeah…” Eva leaned back, crossing her arms. “Even if it seems like everyone else kinda got a head start. Not sure how I feel about that yet, even if it’s half my own damn fault. Jude tried to tell me a million times and I wouldn’t hear it.”
“Seeing is believing, as they say.” Letizia seemed to regard Eva with the same mixture of curiosity and slight apprehension, tempered with the same desire to trust. “Skepticism is healthy for things you can’t see—but those things have a way of turning too real to ignore.”
“You got that right.” Eva murmured as Letizia flipped one of the cards face-up. Eva looked down at the brightly-painted yellow sunlight and rainbow of flowers. A small, happy-looking figure danced through a meadow, followed by a small white dog.
“The Fool,” she read from the scrawled text across the top of the card, wrinkling her nose. “I’ve sure felt like one lately.”
“Not that kind of fool,” Letizia said with a one-shoulder shrug. “This one means a new beginning—the start of a journey. But a happy one. The future is bright and it’s not a journey you’ll have to take alone.”
“Yeah, that’s been one of the only good things about the past five years,” Eva reflected. “Having your lives wrecked can kind of bring you closer together while you try to pick up the pieces.”
“But…?” Letizia raised one angular eyebrow; Eva’s hesitation had been slight, but apparently not slight enough to miss.
“But, honestly, it’s just nice to be around women!” Eva said with a laugh, feeling her cheeks heat up. Don’t get me wrong, some of my best friends are men, but…”
When she trailed off, Letizia gave her a crooked smile that prompted her to continue. “But sometimes you need a break?”
Eva nodded and tried to clamp down on her giggles, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. “See, you know. I mean, it’s incredible having Felix back. Beyond incredible, we missed him so much. And I’m sure Pixie’s great too, I’m looking forward to meeting him. But now the boys are going all soul-searching and ‘what are we,’ and I don’t really… have anything to add here, you know? I wouldn’t know sexual attraction if it bit me—no offense.”
Letizia grinned wider than her usual closed-mouth smile, and Eva caught a flash of fangs, fighting down her startle reflex. Even bared in a smile instead of a snarl, those things took some getting used to. “None taken.”
“It’s always been easier being around Jude,” Eva continued, feeling a little more comfortable with every word. “But now he’s all caught up in the attraction mess too—which has gotta be weird for him…”
“Weird for everyone, I’d imagine.” Despite her dry, understated tone, Letizia still seemed amused, or maybe just happy. Maybe this was as refreshing (and complicated) conversation for her as it was for Eva. “And don’t worry, I know about attraction spectrums and orientations, gender spectrums too—you don’t need to explain.”
“Huh, really?” Eva blinked. For some reason she hadn’t expected a vampire from the 19th century to be acquainted with what most people considered a relatively recent development—or an internet-based invention, she thought with slight bitterness. “That’s…refreshing.”
“These things have been around a lot longer than I have,” Letizia said, seemingly in response to Eva’s thoughts. “And I’ve been around a while. But I understand, it takes less energy to be around people who understand you—who, as I said, you don’t need to explain yourself to. And sometimes it’s easier to be alone.” She was quiet for a moment. “My ‘break’ has been one-hundred-fifty years and counting.”
“That’s quite a break,” Eva said, shaking her head. Maybe someday her rational brain would stop rebelling whenever someone casually dropped something vampire-flavored into a conversation, but it wouldn’t be today. “Ever miss ‘em?”
“One or two.” Letizia’s smile faded, and for a split-second, she looked unspeakably sad. But the moment passed, and her smile came back fast. “But I get a lot done.”
Letizia flipped the second card and almost dropped it. She raised her eyebrows and gave a slight, surprised-sounding ‘hm!’, before setting the card down the way it had turned in her hand—sideways, perpendicular to the first. This one had a lion with a red-gold mane that looked like flames and on its back rode a victorious-looking figure with two raised fists.
“So what’s that one mean?” Eva asked, though the image was triumphant enough for her to make an educated guest.
“Strength,” Letizia said. “And it means exactly that. The drive to persevere, rallying one’s forces—or friends—and bending a situation to your will. Reversed, it would mean a collapse, a breakdown of defenses or resources, hitting a brick wall.”
“Ouch,” Eva winced, wishing the description didn’t feel quite so familiar. “So which is it?”
Letizia tilted her head to look at the sideways card. “Neither. It’s lying down—Strength is taking a break. Even lionesses need a nap sometimes.”
“All right, point taken.” Eva stretched her legs out under the table, easing into a more relaxed position. It was amazing how every muscle wanted to clench if she wasn’t actively trying to relax them. They sat in a surprisingly comfortable silence for a few seconds before Eva spoke again. “Come here often?”
“The mall, or here in particular?”
“The Pit. It’s my sister’s, but I can’t remember the last time I actually came in here,” Eva’s eyebrows came together as she realized. “I guess it’s like living in New York but never visiting the Statue of Liberty. You know it’s there, but don’t really go out of your way.”
“I’m in here every couple weeks, when my supplies run low,” Letizia said. She spoke casually where Eva was still fighting the urge to lower her voice when anything even remotely related came up. “The Pit and Jasper’s shop are about the closest I come to regular haunts.”
“What about The Abyss?” Eva couldn’t help but imagine Letizia in the middle of a sea of teenagers wearing spiked bracelets and colorful, just-as-spiky hair.
“I think I scare most of the clientele,” the witch said with a droll smile. “But it’s fun to visit.”
“So, if you’re in here all the time, does that mean they know…?” Eva shot a look toward the kitchen, as if expecting Magnolia or Dorian to come out any minute, zero in on her, and telepathically know all the weirdness of the past few days. “We obviously haven’t talked about anything.”
“I’m just a barbecue aficionado,” Letizia said. Through almost the entire conversation, she’d had a slight smile that suggested it was all a game. Their secrets were potentially deadly, but somehow she made them seem almost fun. Eva wondered if she’d ever reach that point, hoped she did. “And this place has the best sauce in town.”
“I’ll tell Mags you said that next time I see her,” Eva said. “And I’ll grab some while I’m here. I gave Jude enough to last a year, but that was before, uh… life got interesting.”
“Too interesting?”
“After my old job, I was looking forward to a little boredom,” Eva admitted with a smaller pang than she would have expected. “But it looks like that’s just not in the cards, is it?”
Instead of answering, Letizia turned over the last card. Lovers embraced against a backdrop of flowers and stars. “They usually have a plan of their own.”
Spread apparently done, she swept her cards together and moved to slip them all back into the deck. But as she touched the last card, the Lovers, another card slipped from the rest, and fell right on top of it, perpendicular. As Letizia stared down at it, her brow furrowing, until Eva could tell she was glaring at it from behind her dark sunglasses, apparently not at all liking what she saw.
“What is it?” Eva leaned forward, tilting her head to look at the sideways card. She saw the flames first. They surrounded a monstrous face, all sharp teeth and twisting horns, eyes shining metallic and gold-leaf bright. Across the bottom was the Roman numeral for fifteen, XV, and two words Eva read out loud. “The Devil.”
“Yes, he is,” Letizia murmured, leaning back in her seat to gaze down at the cards, tapping a sharp fingernail against the rest of her gathered deck. “And yes, they do have a plan. They certainly do. Some things you can’t stop coming, no matter how you try to break the circle. It always comes back around.”
“What plan?” Eva asked, a chill racing down her spine and arms. Her hair was standing on end, she could feel it, like there was a static electricity in the air. The moment before a lightning strike. “What’s coming?”
The Witch’s black lip curled up in a crooked smile, but it wasn’t a happy one. Behind it, one sharp fang gleamed, bright as the Devil’s eyes. When she spoke, Eva didn’t understand her meaning, but the words made her shiver all the more.
“The sweet darkness, and the wicked gold.”
It was a late overcast afternoon, not a full moon night. The sun was setting, and the low-hanging clouds had cleared barely enough to let a few stray beams through, yellow-orange and darkening as night neared.
No waves crashed against a white beach. No terrified cries echoed, no fires blazed. No burned figure washed up on the sand, no mask.
But the stone circle remained.
Sharp points of black crystal thrust toward the slate-grey clouds and patches of dying sunlight. As if they’d always been there, in the middle of a park in the heart of a major city, instead of a world only glimpsed in dreams, after hearts stopped beating and screams fell silent.
As it had been for years, the ring of stones was perfectly quiet and still, as were the trees surrounding it, as if the urban woods themselves feared interrupting a sacred silence. But no silence lasted forever. Eventually, in this place where time seemed suspended, frozen in a single undy
ing moment, there came a small change, without warning or explanation.
A crack appeared in one of the onyx spires, interrupting its smooth, glossy surface. From it fell a small piece, like cut glass—which stopped in midair, inches before it hit the ground, pointed end down and spinning like a top.
The shard continued to spin, hovering for several seconds, glittering gold in the dwindling sunset.
Finally, when the last of the day’s fading light was gone, it stopped and fell.
To be continued in Stake Sauce, Arc 2.
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Thank you so much for reading! I so greatly appreciate your help in bringing this weird book into the world. The other thing that helps indie books more than anything is word-of-mouth and reviews—so even a 1 or 2-sentence review would be incredible. Thank you again, so much!
- RoAnna Sylver
RoAnna Sylver is passionate about stories that give hope, healing and even fun for LGBT, disabled and other marginalized people, and thinks we need a lot more.
Aside from writing oddly optimistic dystopia books, RoAnna is a blogger, artist, singer and voice actor, is an actual genetic mutant (and proud), knows too much about Star Trek, and lives with family and a small snorking dog near Portland, OR.
The next adventure RoAnna would like is a nap in a pile of bunnies.
Enjoyed Stake Sauce? Check out these other stories by RoAnna Sylver:
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