Crooked Fang

by Carrie Clevenger

  Josh mumbled something in the background.

  “Have you guys heard from Serv by chance? Pale Rider is on fire.”

  “On fire? What? No, we haven’t heard from him...” Josh took over the conversation from his wife.

  “What’s going on? Where’s Charlie?”

  “He’s right here beside me. Pale Rider is on fire.” I sounded a hell of a lot calmer than I felt, numb face, weak knees and all. Pretty sure, had I still been alive, I’d have thrown up from the smoke and the stress. But I had to stay strong for the time being, and since it all felt like a dream anyway, my mind just stayed in that state of disbelief, employing it as armor.

  “And Serv?”

  I faltered. I didn’t have any hard facts but I knew it. Charlie probably knew it too. I put voice to the obvious. “Nobody knows where he is. But he was here alone when I left a few hours earlier.”

  “Oh my God.”

  I swallowed hard. I couldn’t say anything.

  “I’m on my way. Do you have a place to stay, Xan?”

  “I’m not worried about that right now.”

  “I’ll be there in a few.”

  I hung up the phone and dialed Scott’s number. I was waking everybody up tonight. He answered, sounding like his face was half crammed into the pillow but his voice cleared when he realized it was me. I explained as quickly as I could what had happened, and that I needed to stay with him for a while.

  “Tell me you’re safe.”

  “Yeah. Did you see anything on the news?”

  “Nothing. Did they get the fire out?”

  “Not yet,” I said. I choked on my words and not on the smoke because I was never going to see Serv again. I would never argue with him again. He had died needlessly, because of people that didn’t understand us.

  “Come on over,” Scott said and I could hear Elizabeth ask something in the background.

  “It’s Xan,” Scott said. “He can come stay for a few days. Quit worrying, honey.”

  Her voice rose.

  “He won’t be an issue, besides he can have the basement... No sweetie, he’s not in trouble. There’s a fire. The bar he lives in is on fire.”

  I switched ears so I could dig in my pocket for a cigarette. Which was stupid, considering how much smoke was already available to inhale. “Is Liz going to have a problem with this?”

  “Sorry. She’s just worried about what’s going on.”

  “All good. You sure it’s all right?”

  “Who’s the man of the house?”

  “You are.” I gestured to Charlie to give me a minute more. He nodded.

  “Damn straight. Come on over.”

  “I’m leaving now.”

  I handed the phone back to Charlie and told him what Josh’d said. We shared a moment of silence and watched Pale Rider burn for a few more minutes together. The flames were still going, but thanks to the fire department showing up so quickly and working on keeping the trees drenched it didn’t look like it’d spread. There was no sign of Serv, which normally wouldn’t bug me, save for that damned phone call. It was a fired shot, pretty much, meant to get me here to see this shit. Which hurt way more than a bullet in the chest. Did they want to take Serv out? Or was he just a victim since they couldn’t get me? I didn’t want to think that I was all that, but maybe word had gotten back about Freddie’s disappearance and my involvement and... Fuck. It was all conspiracy theory bullshit. The truth was, I had no fucking idea. If Serv had left, he’d come back. Maybe he’d gotten away. And maybe I was kidding myself.

  Charlie put a hand on my shoulder as I hung my head, smoking my cigarette. I glanced at my watch. I was out of time. If I was going to make it to Denver before sunrise, I had to hurry.

  “I gotta go.” I tossed my cigarette down and stamped it out. “I’ll be staying with Scott up in Denver.”

  “Okay. Call me later today, boy. Hope I have news about all this by then.”

  “I will. You gonna be okay?” I laid a hand on his shoulder, and he nodded.

  “I’ll be fine, you just get to your friend’s house. And be careful driving.”

  He looked so small as I watched him for a minute from my car before I pulled out of the drive.

  Chapter 5

  Scott lived in suburbs of Denver, on the ritzier side of town. His neighborhood was one of those nice ones, with wide streets, little black-iron lampposts, and lots of fenced-in yards. The house was a two-story shingled job with a pillared porch and three-car garage. A silver Volvo station wagon sat in the driveway.

  Scott was standing outside in the front yard when I pulled up, a black cat weaving figure-of-eights between his legs. When I got out of the car, the animal hissed and high-tailed it into the hedge. Scott laughed and shook his head before pulling me in for a brotherly hug.

  “How you doing?” His dark eyes held a hint of concern.

  I shrugged.

  “Man, Fritz does not like you, does he?” He bent down to call to the cat.

  “I’d forget about getting him to come to you. They hate big bad vamps like me.” I pulled my pack out and lit a cigarette. We stood there and stared at the RS. There wasn’t much to be said. Scott didn’t know about Serv, but I’d effectively lost my home, at least for a little while.

  “When you finish that, we’ll go in.”

  “Is Liz up?”

  He winced. “Yes. She’s freaked out about the fire, and about you staying here.”

  I turned to look at him directly. “Seriously? I thought she liked me.”

  He rolled his eyes. “She still doesn’t understand why a punk-ass kid like you would be hanging around with an old shoe like me. Come on inside.”

  We shared a laugh. I threw the half-finished cigarette down and ground it out with the toe of my shoe. “Which is why I always meet you someplace else. And hell, I barely see you as it is. Sometimes it’d just be easier if they all knew, huh?”

  “You’re still a punk-ass kid.” He threw a weak punch at my arm and mimed being in pain. I snorted.

  “And you’re still a nerdy dweeb.”

  “How in the fuck did we ever get along?” Scott opened the door for me and stepped back to let me go inside first. Cinnamon tickled my nose. Potpourri. I looked around the den at the ruffled bows hanging above the windows. The furniture was a deep mahogany leather with polished dark oak accents. A floral woven rug covered the carpet.

  “Wow. You can tell who runs this house.” I smirked and followed him through the kitchen and out another door, which led into the garage. He flicked a switch and the fluorescents winked on after a few seconds, and not all at once. There was his happy place. Long tool bench. Table saw. Pool table with a dust cover. A fuck-load of stacked boxes. Nuts and bolts scattered everywhere. An old green refrigerator rattling to itself in the corner. And, of course, the big-ass black Cadillac truck.

  “I figured if you help me move some shit around we can hang out in here.” He picked at a tangled ball of duct tape stuck to the edge of the pool table. “Had to keep the damn kids off the thing.”

  I nodded. In the farthest corner of the garage a dusty PA cabinet caught my attention. “Holy shit, dude. Is that what I think it is?”

  Scott squinted to follow my gaze. His eyebrows shot up. “Yup, sure is. You think I’d get rid of it?”

  “Man we haven’t played in a band together in fucking decades. I wonder if it even still works. When’s the last time you hooked it up?”

  He looked up at the ceiling and counted silently. “When did you...uhh...”

  “Die?”

  “Yeah, I was trying to avoid saying that.”

  “You still can’t say it. I’m over it man. And it was eighty-five.”

  “Okay then.” He nodded at the cabinet. “That long.” He turned to grab a box off the pool table. It was full of Christmas shit from the look of it. Fake pine needles bristled over the top and something jingled inside when he stacked it on top of another box on the floor.

  I tore my attention
away from the speaker cabinet and pitched in to help. With me working twice as fast as him, we had the table cleared, the boxes rearranged and organized, and the floor swept in twenty minutes.

  “I come here to stay and you put me to work.” I stood next to him and shook my head.

  “Damn man. I need you here more often.” He ran his arm over his brow and sat down in an old moth-eaten office chair.

  I remained standing and fidgeted. “Where can I smoke?”

  He shrugged. “In here’s fine.”

  “What about Liz? Won’t she get all bent out of shape?” I lit a cigarette while Scott stood and helped himself to a beer from the fridge. He held one up for me and I shook my head. He nodded and put the bottle back in the fridge before popping the cap on his own.

  “That’s right. You only drink that nasty whiskey.”

  I nodded. “I used to be able to drink beer, but I can’t anymore.”

  “Weird. So you just stopped being able to...what? Drink it? Stand it?”

  “It makes me throw up, just like food.”

  His brows rose. “Oh. Well then. Looks like I’ll be stopping at the liquor store for you tomorrow.”

  “You put me to work to distract me, didn’t you?” He didn’t need to answer that, and he didn’t. “Thanks for letting me stay.” I leaned back against the workbench and pulled the tie out of my hair, which fell around my shoulders and draped down the back of my jacket.

  I was grateful to have what I considered to be a safe hideout. Scott’d been there for me time and time again, from dragging my ass out of fights when I still alive, to giving me support when I came back as a vampire, and now to give me shelter and a place to recollect.

  “Did they tell what might’ve caused the fire?”

  I shook my head and stared at the floor.

  “Well the wiring’s pretty old there isn’t it?”

  “I got a call, Scott. It was deliberately set.” I met his eyes. “It was a way of getting back at me. Serv was the one that paid for it.”

  “Oh shit, that’s your singer, right?” He frowned. “You think he was still in there?” His face fell as he realized what I was saying. “You think the fire got him?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. “Yeah, almost positive. When I left earlier, he was mad at me and hanging out in his room.”

  “Fuck, man. I’m so sorry. And you can’t exactly accuse these guys of murder, can you?”

  “No, I can’t. I don’t even know who they are, or what they want. And if they bring more of those Wretched things, I might not be ready enough next time.”

  “Wretched?”

  I told him about the so-called vampire slayer and even the zombie thing Freddie’d sent to attack me first. Then about Tabby, and the fact that I’d ended up admitting to her that I was a vampire. He remembered her from Halloween. And then the mystery caller. Basically, pretty much everything that’d happened since the last time Scott and I’d seen each other.

  “Did you at least have some stuff with you when you left to go to Tabby’s house?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I took my bass and a change of clothes. I’m pretty sure everything else is a total loss.”

  “Fuck. What about Tabby? She okay?”

  “She’s gonna have to be. I kind of have a fucked-up situation right now of my own. If I go back to her place, whoever is trying to get my wig up will probably come after me there.”

  Scott raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying they might come here?”

  I shook my head. “They’d have to do some serious digging to connect you and me.”

  I lit another cigarette, wishing for a drink. I didn’t want to face that I’d lost nearly everything in a matter of hours. Not to mention my livelihood. I was thoroughly fucked. And Serv was dead. A lump rose in my throat with surprising emotion.

  The door opened and Liz peeked in with a scowl. Her face was puffy from sleep and her brown curls were writhing in a piled mess clipped back into a short ponytail. “It’s six AM, Scott.” She glared at me. “Scott said you were okay with sleeping in the basement. I went ahead and switched a load of laundry while I was down there but it should be done by the time you’re settled in.”

  I forced a smile. “Okay, Liz. It’s good to see you again.” She raised an eyebrow and shut the door again without a retort. I looked at Scott. “She doesn’t like me much at all, does she?”

  “It’s just really early, she has to work this morning and this is spur of the moment that you’re here is all. She’s really nice. “

  Liz and I’d met briefly at a Pale Rider barbecue when their whole family had come with Scott. That’d been about two and a half years ago. Chelsea, Scott’s daughter, hadn’t hit her teens yet. Liz was a few years younger than Scott, and fresh from a previous marriage. Chelsea’s mom was somewhere...I don’t remember what happened to Debbie but she and Scott never married, just kind of lived together. Scott met Liz through a business contact and they got married after just a few months of dating. I knew all that already. Scott wasn’t ever private with me.

  I grinned and stamped out my cigarette before tossing the flat butt into the curbside Dumpster sitting to the right of the Cadillac. “I’ll let you know when I see her nice side.”

  The basement wasn’t half as dreary as I thought it would be, but I think any normal person would’ve found it cold. Scott laid down an air mattress, which I inflated with a portable pump. It wasn’t fancy, but it’d do until I figured out where I was going to stay. I could stay with Tabby, but hanging out with her would just drag attention from those creeps back to her. I thought about seeing how Josh and Bea felt about me crashing at their place, but they would probably end up taking Darrell in, who was also now homeless after the fire.

  “I could offer you a job, maybe.” Scott took the pump from me and fit it back in the box.

  “Doing what?”

  “What you used to do.”

  “Advertisements?” I laughed. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not? You used to be awesome.”

  After college, Scott and I were hired fresh out of school for a place called Slater Enterprises downtown. We created ad campaigns and were a pretty rocking team. The problem was, after I became a vampire, the whole ability to draw just sort of went away. Yet, I could recreate a bass line after listening to a song once. I guess it was a decent trade.

  “It’s been too long.” I got up off the floor and dug through my duffel bag I’d pulled out of the car. Two full changes of clothes and an extra shirt. Well, at least I had that. Sasha stood against the wall in her hard case. I had everything I needed.

  “You going to be all right down here?”

  “Yeah. The basement is perfect for me. Especially since you put that tinfoil over the egress window. Gives it a nice cozy bat-cave feeling.”

  Scott walked toward the stairs. “Yeah, I figured you’d like that. Liz wanted to give you the guest room but I told her you needed to have some space away from the family while you recovered.” His face softened. “I’m really sorry about Serv.”

  “Yeah.” I lay down on the air mattress and stared up at the pipes and insulation overhead. Scott went back upstairs. More tired than I felt, I fell asleep before the dryer stopped.

  * * * *

  I used Scott’s cordless phone out on the back patio to call Charlie the next evening to see if he had any news. He was over at Linda’s house. It looked like everybody had a place to stay for the time being.

  “Still no word from Serv?” I loosened my grip on the phone before I snapped it in half. I didn’t like the thought of Serv being gone. As much as we’d fought, he was still a good kid.

  “Nothing. They haven’t found anything inside the building either.” Charlie’s voice was deadpan–flat. I knew he had been fond of the guy too. The fire department wasn’t going to find Serv’s remains. Vampires burned nicely. Once we were dead, our bodies were really damn fragile and were gone, just like that. I thought about that zombie-vampire turning to foamy goo
p in the grass and scowled.

  “Darrell and Josh okay?”

  “Yeah. I think Darrell went to stay with him and Bea. I gotta call out the insurance company tomorrow to come give an estimate of the damage. The top half of the goddamn building is gutted. It gonna take some time to rebuild.”

  “Yeah, I figured. I wish I could help.”

  He gave out a sharp laugh. “Boy, you can help by taking care of yourself, and by coming back when it’s done. Ain’t no fire gonna keep me down for long, all right?”

  We shared a few more trivialities before he said he was tired and going to go spend time with Linda to figure stuff out. I gave him Scott’s home phone number and told him to keep in touch. I disconnected the call and sat down at the patio table to smoke a cigarette, but I was being watched.

  I smiled. “Hi, Chelsea.”

  She came from around the corner of the house chewing on her fingernail. To see her kind of shook me by how much she was really starting to favor her estranged mother. She had the same big brown eyes and ash-blonde hair framing her heart-shaped face. Same but different. I eyeballed her in the garden lights.

  “Is that a lip-ring your daddy let you get?”

  She nodded.

  “What are you, fifteen?”

  “Almost. I turned fourteen two months ago.” She shuffled over to where I was sitting and hunched in her pale blue quilted-down jacket. I grinned at her black Converse sneakers. When I’d first met her dad, he’d always worn orange ones. I wondered if she knew that. She was tall, like her dad, probably five-eight or something. Her hair was combed artfully to the side, concealing one eye. The other one was smudged with dark makeup, which made her look like a raccoon. Her lips parted, like she wanted to ask something.

  “Spill it, kid.”

  “Are you a rock star?” Her eyes were wide with anticipation, and it made me laugh.

  “Not quite.”

  “But you play in a band.”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “How come Dad hangs around someone cool like you?”

  I wanted to laugh, but just shrugged. “He’s always been nice to me.”

  “Liz said your place burned down.” She eyed my cigarette and I frowned at her. “She said that you live in a dirty old bar.”