Immortal

by Pati Nagle

  “Um … Yo necesidad gasoline … un poco …”

  “Funcionamos de la gasolina. Podemos pagarle,” Caeran said over my shoulder. His voice was musical, the words flowing and liquid, almost as beautiful as his own language.

  The old man blinked, then his eyes widened as he caught sight of the blood on Caeran’s shirt. “¿Esta en apuro?”

  “No, señor. Habia una lucha, pero ha hecho.” Caeran dug in his pocket and produced a twenty dollar bill, which he held out to the man. “Para la gasolina.”

  The man stared at the money, then called over his shoulder in rapid Spanish. I glanced at Caeran, hoping he’d understood and that the man hadn’t been telling his companion to call the cops. He stayed in the doorway, watching us. Somewhere in the house a door slammed.

  Guess we weren’t going to get invited in to sit by the fire. I pulled the sleeves of my sweater down over my hands. I could understand the man’s suspicion. We looked pretty disreputable.

  A minute later a teenage boy joined the old man, carrying a gas can that sloshed appealingly. Caeran traded his twenty for it and made a slight bow.

  “Muchas gracias, señor.”

  The old man watched us away. I glanced at the forest as we returned to the car, but it was too dark for me to see anything. Caeran would know if the alben came back.

  I opened the tank, then took the gas can from Caeran. It was only half full; the old man had got the better end of the deal. It was enough to get us to Pecos, though. I sniffed the can to make sure it wasn’t water. Coughed on the fumes, and poured most of the gas into the tank.

  I knew you were supposed to save a little to prime the engine. The carburetor? Except I wasn’t sure how to find the carburetor. I decided to just try starting the car first.

  I closed up the can and went to put it in the trunk. Caeran blocked me from touching the car, holding his hand out for the keys. I picked out the Saturn key and gave it to him, then stepped back.

  No surprises in the trunk. A cold breeze made me shiver. I put the gas can inside, shut the lid, and took back my keys, anxious to get in the car and get warm.

  Caeran peered through his window as I unlocked the doors. No one was hiding in the back seat. We got in and I pumped the gas pedal a few times, then turned the key. The car started.

  “Yay!”

  I yanked my seat belt across. The sooner we got moving, the sooner the engine would warm up.

  Pecos was less than ten miles away. My stomach grumbled as we passed a burger place, but I didn’t want to stop the car and risk not being able to start it again. I pulled into the gas station and cheered again, silently this time.

  Caeran put a hand on my arm, stopping me from getting out. I waited, watching him. His gaze was distant, as if he was straining to hear something. Finally he let me go and nodded.

  “Bathroom break if you need it,” I said. “I’m going to get something to eat and drink, too, unless you’d rather go back for hot food.”

  He shook his head. He got out of the car and stood watching as I pumped gas. I used my sleeve to protect myself from the icy pump handle. When I was done, Caeran followed me into the store.

  My own personal bodyguard. It would have annoyed me, except that I didn’t want to have to face the alben alone again, thanks. I was grateful for Caeran’s vigilance.

  I washed up, letting the hot water run over my hands for a long time. Caeran was waiting for me out in the store. A burly guy who looked like he’d rather be fishing watched both of us suspiciously from behind the front counter.

  I grabbed an orange, a cardboard turkey sandwich, chips, a soda and a candy bar. Dumped them all on the checkout counter and went back for a six-pack of bottled water, a pair of gloves and a sweatshirt to augment my wardrobe. The credit card would groan, but I didn’t care.

  I picked out a second sweat for Caeran, holding it up to him to make sure it was big enough. They didn’t have any plain ones; the least offensive one said “New Mexico” above some petroglyph designs. Caeran frowned.

  “That is not—”

  “Yes it is necessary. You look like an extra from a monster movie. Come on, I’ll pay for it and then you can change in the bathroom.”

  He accompanied me to the counter but before I could get out my card he plunked down four more twenties, which brightened the clerk’s mood considerably. I wondered how big a bankroll Caeran had. I’d been thinking he was poor, because of camping in the bosque, but I now knew the reason for that wasn’t financial.

  I pulled my new sweatshirt on over my sweater while the clerk put the food and my gloves in a bag. Caeran picked up his sweat, but instead of heading for the bathroom he grabbed the water and went to the door. I accepted the bag and the change, thanked the clerk, and followed Caeran out to the car.

  “Caeran—”

  “I will put it on.”

  I sighed and got in, dumping the change into the bag and extracting my soda and the sandwich before putting it behind my seat. Caeran pulled off his bloodied shirt.

  There was no one else at the pumps, so I was the only one who got to enjoy the view. His skin was perfect except for the wound on his shoulder, which was still oozing slightly. I frowned in concern.

  “It still hasn’t healed.”

  He glanced at it. “It is better.”

  “We should put a bandage over it.”

  He took a tissue and folded it in quarters, then pressed it to the wound, where the blood made it stick. I had a moment to admire his torso—as gorgeous as the rest of him—before he pulled on the sweatshirt. He balled up his bloodstained shirt and tossed it into the back seat, an act that was refreshingly uncontrolled.

  “Do you want to call Madera? Let him know we’re coming?”

  Caeran hesitated, then nodded. I gave him my cell phone, and while he made the call I unwrapped the sandwich. His voice mesmerized me, even though I couldn’t understand the words. Kind of nice that he didn’t bother to hide his language from me any more. I loved listening to the music of it. Unfortunately, the conversation was brief. Before I’d swallowed two bites, Caeran closed the phone and gave it back to me.

  I offered him the other half of the sandwich. “It isn’t great, but it’s sustenance.”

  He looked about to say no, then changed his mind. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you, you’re the one who paid for it.”

  He took a bite and chewed it. “You are right, it isn’t great.”

  “Chips will help.”

  I opened the chip bag and put it between us, grabbing a handful for myself. The salt improved the sandwich. I finished my half and took a swig of soda, then got out my new gloves and handed the shopping bag to Caeran.

  “There’s an orange in there, if you want it.”

  I drove back to I-25 and turned toward Las Vegas. Caeran ate slowly, taking a single chip now and then. He finished the sandwich and fished out the orange, which I was glad to see. He never seemed to eat enough, and with his injury he was probably dehydrated.

  He fed me a couple of sections of the orange. I savored them, coming from his hand. When the fruit was gone, he opened a bottle of water and drank a third of it in one swig.

  “So how did you get in the trunk?” I asked.

  “I heard the alben’s plans, and came ahead.”

  “But you didn’t have a key.”

  He held up a hand, palm toward the glove box. I saw a faint glow, then the box door dropped open.

  “OK.” I looked back at the road, wondering what other surprises he had in store.

  Caeran quietly closed the glove box and took another sip of water. A couple of minutes passed in silence.

  “Which one of you did the fire trick?”

  “The alben. I am sorry—I will pay to repair your car.”

  I gave a laugh. “Don’t even worry about it. I have insurance.”

  “And how will you explain the damage?”

  “Hm. Fumes from the gas can and a cigarette?”

  “You do not smoke.
”

  “I didn’t say it was my cigarette.”

  He shook his head and smiled—really smiled—for the first time since the fight. Relief poured through me, surprising me. I hadn’t realized I was so tense.

  The miles stretched on into the night. Traffic was light, mostly truckers. Their headlights dazzled me; I looked away. I drove in silence for a while, hoping Caeran would sleep, but he didn’t and the questions piled up in my brain. Finally I gave in.

  “So, the myth about vampire bites—is that one true?”

  Caeran’s brow creased. “Partly.”

  “Which part?”

  “Mortals are not susceptible to the disease.”

  My gut tightened. “But you are.”

  He shrugged, then winced. “It is a disease. Sometimes multiple exposures do not cause infection.”

  The other side of the equation remained unspoken.

  I gripped the steering wheel harder, suddenly frightened. Caeran was in danger of losing his family, of becoming his own enemy. I dreaded the possibility.

  He looked out of his window, slowly drinking his water. I left him alone, not wanting to pester him with questions that might hurt.

  It started to rain, points of light hanging on the windshield, dancing with each passing vehicle. I turned on the wipers.

  In Las Vegas I stopped at the usual convenience store and topped off the tank. It wasn’t really necessary but I needed a break, and I figured Caeran might, too.

  The clerk, a plump Hispanic woman, looked at Caeran as if she remembered him. I felt a sudden dread that the alben had been here, that he might still be here. I looked around, panicked, and the clerk’s gaze shifted to me.

  Caeran grabbed my elbow and propelled me along one of the aisles, away from the counter. He stopped at the far end in front of a rack of salted nuts.

  “He is not here,” he said softly. “We are far ahead of him.”

  “How can you be sure?” I whispered back. “Maybe he hijacked someone else.”

  Caeran frowned, then glanced at the clerk, who was helping another customer. “She saw my kindred recently as they passed through on their way north. That is why she is watching me.”

  “Oh.” I relaxed a little, swallowing. “Funny that they stopped here.”

  “I recommended it to them.”

  I met his gaze, saw his slight smile, and couldn’t help smiling back. “I see.”

  “Do not fear. The alben will not trouble you again.”

  We visited the restrooms, then I picked up a bottle of juice. Caeran chose a bag of almonds, and I magnanimously paid for it along with my juice and the gas. Feeble gesture, but I wanted him to know I wasn’t planning to mooch just because he seemed to be flush.

  The rain had lightened up a bit. We hurried back to the car. As before, Caeran made me wait until he had checked it before getting in. I cranked the heater as I pulled out and turned onto the Mora road.

  So what was next? We’d go to Madera’s and hole up. So much for my Friday classes. Would next week be a loss, too? That could seriously mess up my grades. I’d have to get in touch with my professors, make arrangements to work outside of class, if possible. I could do some of that online, but I suspected Madera didn’t have Internet access. Possibly no one in Guadalupita did.

  Commute to Las Vegas for Internet? Or to Mora, if I was lucky.

  Beside me, Caeran shifted in his seat, frowning. Was he listening to my rambling thoughts? I didn’t love the idea, but I figured I’d better get used to it if I wanted to spend time with him.

  “How long do you think we’ll need to stay at Madera’s?” I asked.

  “Until we catch the alben.”

  “’We?’”

  “My kindred and I.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. Caeran’s face wore the grim, no compromise expression I’d seen before.

  “Any chance he’ll give up and go away?”

  Caeran hesitated, then shook his head. “Now that he has found us … you see, our blood is their favorite food. Humans are easier to hunt, but ælven blood makes them much stronger. And there are other reasons …”

  “Like what?”

  His face hardened more. “Procreation. They will take any opportunity to conceive with us.”

  I grimaced. “I got the impression they weren’t that picky.”

  “They abuse humans also, but any offspring from such couplings are mortal.”

  “Oh. So they don’t count.” I tried to keep the edge out of my voice, but his casual dismissal of mortals annoyed me.

  Caeran sighed. “Conception is much more difficult for us than for you, and our instinct to continue our species is strong.”

  “I suppose your people don’t, um, couple with the alben willingly?”

  “No.”

  His voice was filled with anger. I didn’t want to hear about whatever he was remembering.

  I took a swig of my juice. “Do they always live alone?”

  “Alone or in small groups. Too many hunting at once attracts unwanted attention.”

  I nodded, and glanced at him. He was still frowning. I’d done it again—made him unhappy with my questions. I should just shut the hell up.

  The rain turned to snow. I put down my juice and concentrated on driving. The Saturn had front wheel drive, which was good, but I didn’t have snow tires, and no chains in the trunk. It was early in the season but I knew that the northern mountains could still get whomped.

  By the time we reached Mora the snow was sticking to the road. There was no traffic; we were alone in the storm. I wondered what the snow plow service was like up here.

  I slowed down and leaned forward, peering through the flying snow to see the stripes on the road. Tense; I hated driving in snow. I kept an eye on the odometer, unsure if I’d recognize Guadalupita in the storm, never mind the turnoff to Madera’s.

  A solitary streetlight came into view; mercury vapor staining the falling snow ruddy orange. It shone on the post office, and I could see the bar beyond, windows dark. I drove on, looking for Madera’s driveway. When the carved owl loomed up, bright in my headlights, I braked to a crawl for the turn.

  The snow was getting deeper. Possibly we’d get snowed in. That made me I realize I had nothing with me for an overnight—hadn’t even thought to pick up a toothbrush at the store. Damn.

  Caeran straightened in his seat, leaning forward with a look of concentration on his face. He was staring out the windshield, but not at the snow. He reminded me of a hunting dog, listening to things I couldn’t hear.

  A light glowed dimly up ahead. The sense of relief it gave me was ridiculous. It wasn’t an end to our problems, but at least it was the end of the road. Madera’s house seemed like an oasis now, the old hacienda’s many fireplaces calling to me.

  The light resolved into the porch light by the front door, beaming out from beneath the portal. Softer light glowed from the windows of the front room. I rolled to a stop, parking nose in though I doubted there’d be other cars needing room. Turning off the engine, I sighed, glad to be done with the driving.

  Caeran turned his head. The dash lights glowed softly, lighting the edges of his features, making him beautiful in a new, mysterious way.

  “Thank you,” he said after a moment, “for bringing me here. I am again in your debt.”

  “Oh …” I shook my head, unable to articulate my fleeting, embarrassing thoughts. It was a pleasure being with him; I’d do anything he asked just for the sake of his company.

  He glanced away, reaching for his pack. “We should go in.”

  I fished my own pack out of the back seat and followed him, sad that our time alone was over. Funny, since we mostly hadn’t talked. I would never get enough of his company, though, even in silence.

  The door swung open as Caeran reached it. Madera welcomed him in with a gesture, and gave me a nod that seemed like an afterthought. He spoke to Caeran in their language. Caeran stopped him with a raised hand, glancing at me.

 
; “She knows.”

  Madera looked alarmed for an instant, then his dark lashes hid his eyes as he turned to face me. “You have earned Caeran’s trust. You are welcome here.”

  “Thank you,” I said, wondering why it felt like a ceremonial response.

  Madera stepped toward the right-hand door, looking at Caeran. “Let me tend your wound.”

  I followed them into the front room, where four others were sitting by the kiva fireplace. Four other ælven, I reminded myself. Three men and a woman. They stared at me, the stranger.

  Caeran paused. “Len, may I make you known to my kindred? These are Savhoran, Lomen, and Tiruli. Nathrin you will remember.”

  “Yes,” I said, smiling at Nathrin. “How is Mirali?”

  He nodded. “She is better, thank you.”

  They were all clearly stamped with Caeran’s genes. The woman was taller and more slender than Mirali. Silence stretched, and I felt compelled to fill it.

  “Um, it’s nice to meet you all.”

  Madera stood waiting by the far door. Caeran went to join him, and I hurried after.

  “You could stay and warm yourself by the fire,” Caeran said quietly.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  I wasn’t about to sit down with a group of strangers who looked at me like I was an escapee from the zoo. Caeran made no more objection, and while Madera frowned at me slightly, he didn’t say anything.

  He led us onto the enclosed portal. I looked out through the glass walls and saw snow falling gently into the courtyard—and the fountain calmly flowing. Madera opened the second door on the right and went in with Caeran. I followed.

  It was larger than the room I’d slept in on our previous visit, and looked halfway between a treatment room and a guest room. There was a bed against the back wall, but more prominent was a massage table under a cotton cloth printed with the tree of life. Madera took this off, leaving the table covered only by a plain contour sheet. He set the cloth aside and went to a small kiva fireplace in the corner. It seemed like all he did was wave his hand, and flames sprang up around the wood that was laid there. Gas fireplace? I suspected not.

  Caeran sat on the table and pulled off his sweatshirt. It was stuck to his wound and I winced as he worked it free. Blood had dried all over that side of his chest, smeared from his shirt. The wound was an ugly dark gash on his left shoulder, now oozing again, fresh blood glinting in the firelight.