by Linda Wisdom
We didn’t have the medical knowledge we have today and even with all the advances of today we still couldn’t have saved some of the wounded back then. It’s just the way it works, Jazz.
“You could have saved him, Lili.” She couldn’t hold back the bitterness she still felt more than 150 years later.
And you still refuse to understand that it has never been my choice what patient I am allowed to fully heal. This gift of mine is also a curse. So many I wanted to heal and wasn’t permitted to.
“If it really was a curse I would banish it and you’d be free to heal anyone you wished,” Jazz murmured, aware the wall would hear her no matter how soft her voice was and her words would appear to Lili.
She remembered the days and nights of 1865 as easily as if they had been yesterday. Her name had been Jessie then, and she and the healer, Lilibet, traveled from camp to camp soothing the wounded and doing what they could to make a dying soldier’s last moments more comfortable.
There was a reason why litter bearers set him with the dying, Jazz. Just as you’ve always known there were some things we weren’t allowed to do. Interfering with a Higher Power has always been the most sacred of rules.
“I know,” she said sadly. “But all he wanted to do was go home and marry Annie and raise kids and farm the land. For all we know, Annie never knew what happened to him. She might have thought he found someone else.”
Just remember this. He didn’t die alone as so many did. But that was not why you remember him. You remember him for the color of his eyes. The words disappeared and the wall remained blank for a moment. You’ve seen Nick again, haven’t you?
Jazz winced as she stared at the words scrolled across the wall. “He has an office just off the boardwalk.”
And?
“And he’s working as a private detective. He claims he left the Protectorate, but we both know no one leaves them except in death.”
Do you want to know what I think?
“Am I going to like it?” She grabbed one of her pillows and hugged it against her chest. The velvety texture didn’t comfort her as much as she would have liked. She looked over and noticed the tips of four twitching ears appearing over the side of the chaise. A second later, Fluff and Puff’s heads appeared, their expressive faces alight with concern. The slippers scooted upward and slid their way onto her feet.
I’m sure you won’t like it, but I feel it needs to be said.
Jazz couldn’t help smiling even if her stomach was doing a rollercoaster dive. Her normally gentle-natured friend was showing a hint of snark.
“Then say it.”
When you have comforted men over the centuries, you claim it’s because the color of their eyes reminded you of your first love in your village. I don’t think that’s the case. I think they all are a reminder of Nick, and that even if he is an immortal being there is still a chance he could be destroyed. I think you sit with these men at the end of their time, because you secretly fear you will not be with Nick if something happens to him. That if the time ever came you would not have the chance to say good-bye to him and at least there’s someone to say good-bye to the others.
Jazz felt her stomach free fall all the way to the ground floor. Hearing the truth was bad enough. Seeing it written so starkly made it too real.
“Psychology is not one of your strong points, Lili,” she said harshly.
The first time you comforted a dying man with eyes the color of the Irish Sea was after that time Nick battled that Mongol demon. He would have died if he hadn’t fed off a dying soldier. Two months after that, you went to a battlefield with me and helped nurse the wounded.
If she shut her eyes very tightly she would not see the damning words on the wall. If she screamed delete! they would disappear. Except it wouldn’t be that simple to erase them from her memory. “Nick is more a thorn in my side than anything else.”
And yet you always welcome him back into your life, and your bed, no matter how many times he’s hurt you in the past. Considering everything that’s gone on You’ve still never hit him over the head with a sledgehammer when he truly deserves it.
Be honest with yourself, Jazz. It all has to do with Nick.
“Does not.”
Does so, so stop fibbing to yourself. I have to go. Be safe and I will talk to you soon.
“Be safe,” Jazz echoed, watching the words fade from the wall.
She sat there for a long time, listening to Fluff and Puff murmur to each other. Every once in a while one of the slippers would swivel its head in her direction to glance at her and then turn back to talk to its buddy and continue its chatter.
She plopped her head back against the chaise and groaned.
“Why does everything always have to come back to Nick?”
Twelve
Jazz bent over the sink to get a better look in the bathroom mirror. What she saw wasn’t a pleasant sight. She made a face at the close-up view of her bloodshot eyes and pasty-looking skin. The weariness in her bones confirmed her sleepless night.
“It could be worse,” she murmured, casting a minor glamour spell that took the red out of her eyes and added brightness to her skin. Considering what she was about to face this morning she would need all the armor she could conjure up.
Krebs was in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee when Jazz walked in. She picked up one of her favorite mugs and pulled a couple of peanut butter cookies out of the cookie jar. He looked up, cocked an eyebrow in surprise at her sedate—for Jazz—skirt and sweater, and then returned to staring into his coffee.
“So Nick’s really a vampire? Those fangs he flashed are real, as I don’t suspect he had cosmetic dentistry. Drinks blood, is a total night person? Working on a tan would literally turn him into a crispy critter?”
“He’s been one as long as I’ve known him.” She inhaled the rich French vanilla fragrance as she poured the brew into her mug.
“Which is?”
She took a few cautious sips to jumpstart her system. “Too long.”
“I get it. If you tell me, you’d have to kill me.”
“No, your coffee is too good for me to want to kill you, but you really don’t want to know.” She settled in the chair across from him and took another sip. She closed her eyes in bliss as the caffeine flooded her system.
He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “Talk to me, Jazz.”
She thought it over for a few moments before replying.
“Remember the notices posted online about missing vampires?” She waited for his nod. “Nick has been hired by a vampire organization to investigate the disappearances.”
“Even with the news about the disappearances online, it seemed kinda low key. Why would anyone want them investigated?”
“More like kept quiet for good reason.” Jazz didn’t want to go into much detail if she didn’t have to. If Krebs was going to deal with the vampire community, she preferred he remained on the fringes as much as possible and she was pretty sure the vamps he dealt with would agree with her.
“C’mon Jazz, there’s more to it than that. You forget, I work with vampires all the time.” He sprinkled brown sugar over his oatmeal. “What is really going on?”
Jazz momentarily closed her eyes and tried to recall if she’d ever tried to explain her life to someone who wasn’t a part of her world. In a word, no. “You work with vampires via email or on the phone. You’ve never met any of your clients in person and that’s by their choice and one, if you remember, I agreed with,” she pointed out. “The real thing is different than emailing someone whose screen name is Suck You. We’re not talking about people who dress in black and wear fang prosthetics or see a dentist to have their canine incisors filed to points. We’re talking about big bads who prefer an all-liquid diet that just happens to be your blood. Creatures that literally can’t get a natural tan, where a heart attack means a stake in that body organ, and believe me when I tell you that garlic does not do a thing to them except give them b
ad breath. I should have talked you out of it when Leticia first approached you about designing her site and then started referring new clients to you, but you enjoyed doing something different and they all liked your designs. And their websites were a whole new challenge for you.”
“Okay, I get the point. I have to keep in mind they’re for real and not role-playing creatures of the night. Which, I confess, I have been doing maybe because it was easier than admitting they actually existed.” Krebs looked a little green around the gills. “But why couldn’t you tell me what he really was? I’ve never told anyone about Leticia and her crowd. Did you think I’d tell the world I saw a real living vampire?”
“Nick isn’t exactly living,” Jazz gently pointed out. “I know you can keep secrets. It’s just that I didn’t want you pulled into something you don’t need to be a part of. Something that is dangerous and nasty and … sick,” she whispered. “What you read about in books and see in the movies isn’t even close to their reality.”
“Okay, now you’re scaring me. If it’s that bad then even you shouldn’t be involved. Did that Nick get you messed up in something that has to do with his world?” he demanded. “I know I couldn’t see whatever nasty magick stuff was on the car yesterday that upset you so much, nor can I see that ghost you told me is in there, but you have taught me enough over the past few years that I can figure out that whatever happened was not good. And if it’s that bad, then you need to worry about yourself, not bother about them.”
She raked her fingers through her hair. “You are right, Krebs. It wasn’t good. The absolute worst slasher movie would be a picnic compared to what is going on.” Jazz finished her coffee and cookies and got up to refill her mug and top off Krebs’ mug. “That’s why I need to find a way to make sure what happened yesterday never happens again, to me or to anyone else.”
“Give me a break here. Tell me everything that’s going on,” Krebs pleaded, grabbing hold of her hand again. “You know I can keep a secret,” he said, once he caught her expression. “It’s not that I’m worried for myself. Well, I am when you talk about all these vampires and nasty stuff going on,” he admitted with a sheepish grin, “but I’m also worried about you. I’ve never seen you this stressed. I can’t remember ever seeing you actually frightened, but….”
“But this is a hell of a lot more than I have dealt with in the past.” She stood behind him and bent down, looping her arms around his neck. She dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “You are a wonderful friend and I love you dearly, but right about now I would be so much happier if you were far away from here in case something happens. Say… Siberia. And I understand Antarctica is nice this time of year. Aren’t there penguins there? You love watching March of the Penguins and Happy Feet.”
“Jeez, Jazz, why not send me to the North Pole to meet up with Santa Claus?” He still looked a little green around the gills. “Look, I know you are not one of those witches that dance naked by the light of the moon—damn—and that you are obviously someone who holds a lot of power li’l ole unmagick me couldn’t begin to understand.” He reached back and took one of her hands that rested on his shoulder. “And while I don’t know what’s going on, I would say you are going up against the Big Bad in capital letters, so I am here for you, kid. Sometimes we mortal humans can come in handy.”
It took Jazz a moment to realize the dampness on her cheeks came from tears.
He stood up and turned around, flashing her a crooked smile. For a brief moment, she imagined she saw a hint of Nick’s nature in Krebs’s warm gaze.
“You have to promise me, Jazz. Promise me that if there is anything I can do, you will let me do it.” He made sure she met his gaze.
She stepped in for a hug. “I promise if it’s something within your power, I will ask for your help.” This was a vow she knew she could easily keep. There was no way poor mortal Krebs could help her defeat a monster such as Clive Reeves.
“So what can I do?” Krebs asked, flexing his fingers.
“Right now, I’m heading out to see if I can get some information to help Nick with his investigation.” She rooted around for a travel mug and filled it with coffee.
“I can’t believe that with the eight computers I have upstairs, not to mention the laptop I set up specifically for your needs that you feel you need to go out to get information?” He looked amused. “Jazz, anything you need to know can be found on the internet. Unless you need to talk to someone in the flesh.” He paused. “The person you’re planning on seeing is made of flesh and blood, right?”
Jazz laughed. “I have often wondered about that. Trust me, if I could do it here I would. But what I need to find out can’t be found on the Information Highway,” she said dryly. “The person in charge of the place I’m going to considers himself above computers.” She was so not looking forward to the trip ahead of her. She started out the door, and then paused as something occurred to her. It would have been easy to forget it had come to mind. Except you made a promise and you cannot break it. She mentally damned the little gargoyle inside her head and she kept on going out the door. While she had thought of a way Krebs’ computer skills could come in handy, she did not want him looking for any information on Clive Reeves unless she was around. She had long ago set wards on all his computers, but she knew it was too easy for something to go wrong, especially with Reeves displaying powers they hadn’t expected. And she would hate herself if something happened to Krebs and she wasn’t there to prevent it.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Just one of those random thoughts. I’ll see you later.” She left before that voice piped up again.
“That alcoholic establishment is luxury compared to this ghastly place,” Irma said, staring at the two storefronts Jazz parked in front of. “You never take me anywhere nice as it is, but this is downright deplorable. Why on earth would you come to such a disgusting place?” She peered narrowly at Jazz. “I can’t believe this has to do with Nicky. Is this one of those vampire sex parlors in disguise? You don’t think I know about these things, but those little men at the car service talk about these places all the time. All those perverted creatures think about is sex.” She absently stroked her purse strap, fingers tightening on it as if she feared someone would run past and snatch it up.
“It sounds like they’re not the only ones with sex on the brain since you tend to bring the subject up a lot.” Jazz cast the illusion spell for the car and stepped up onto the cracked sidewalk. The two single-story buildings in front of her were not the least bit encouraging. An adult bookstore stood on her right, a boutique that catered to drag queens on the left. Even worse was the dark very nasty-looking alley right down the middle. A mournful whistle from a freight train in the distance enhanced the ambiance of life passing by. When she asked to be guided to The Library, she hadn’t expected to end up here.
“Most libraries are designed as nice clean modern buildings or even beautiful historical buildings,” she murmured. Old and moldy as time or not, The Library didn’t have to bring her to a place that looked every bit as aged, ancient, and unsavory as some of the knowledge it housed.
“Why can’t we go to that nice library near the house?” Irma asked. “There’s a lovely park next to it where I can watch the children on the playground if you park me under that lovely oak tree. Too much sun isn’t good for my skin.”
“That library won’t have what I need.” She heaved a sigh and lifted her right hand, palm out. The moonstone in her ring glowed softly as she sent her power outward, seeking.
“I humbly request entrance to the realm that will offer me guidance I can find nowhere else,” she said in a formal voice. She hated the formality required in some aspects of her magick, but when dealing with ones who had been around for thousands of years and believed in proper etiquette, she knew it was vital she behave with appropriate witchy decorum or she’d never be allowed entrance.
When she left the house she asked for the location to The Library
and was directed here. Now she had to wait to be guided to the door. She had no idea her choices would end up to be between an adult book-store and a drag queen boutique.
A tiny bubble of golden light bobbed up in front of her.
“Is that Tinkerbell?” Irma leaned over the car door and stared at the light.
“Not even close. I’ll be back.”
“What if some depraved individual comes by?” She looked around. “You know, if I had a pet, he could protect me while you’re gone.”
“You just want to be the only ghost on the block with a guard dog. If someone comes by just flash him your ethereal charms.” Jazz watched the light move toward the alley. “I should have known the entrance wouldn’t be something sleazy like the adult bookstore when it could be put somewhere even more repulsive.” She wrinkled her nose as she passed an overflowing Dumpster that smelled as if it hadn’t been emptied in years. The tiny bubble of illumination stopped at the end of the dark alley, blinked three times, and then disappeared.
“They just can’t make it easy.” She stared at the concrete wall spray-painted with pictures of imaginative sexual positions she couldn’t imagine doing if she was double or even triple jointed. “I seek The Library,” she said in a loud voice.
The air in front of her shimmered until the concrete wall disappeared and a massive, ornately carved wooden door took its place. She wrapped her fingers around the large bronze griffin-shaped door-knocker and rapped it three times against the door.
The griffin opened its eyes and peered closely at Jazz while its beak widened in a yawn. “What is your purpose here, witchling?”
“I require counsel I can find only here. I ask to be allowed to enter.” She wished she could just turn the knob and go in, but the guardian of The Library’s door had its own rules. No playing along, no entrance.