To which I ask you: really motherfuckers, you don’t have something better to do?
But if you really have to listen, with Ceinwyn Dale smashing the headphones on your ears probably, trying to get you to come to the Asylum at all costs . . . that’s the why of it. The why I am what I am.
I want to help them.
I want to help you.
That’s my why.
That’s why you accept strings.
That’s why you do a tape like this.
Now . . . I just have to actually do it . . . fix the world.
One teapot at a time.
Session 112
A kiss dragged me softly from the darkness. Guess that makes me Sleeping Beauty . . . who’d thunk it?
I opened my eyes. I was in the backseat of the car; Annie B was outside, leaning in over me through the open door. The sun was finally out, having pushed back the gray for the few hours it could manage. It only poked through slots in the clouds, but more than I usually got to see in the winter.
It was nice.
So was the kiss.
So was the expression of gratitude on Annie B’s face.
Right up until the moment she smashed her closed fist into my stomach so hard I stopped breathing for a good ten seconds.
“If you ever try to pull something like that to me again!” she yelled. “If you ever don’t tell me what you’re doing beforehand! If you ever let me think I’m going to die without telling me you have an ace up your sleeve! If you ever—”
“If I ever,” I sputtered, “I got it. No evering.”
“If you ever . . . I’ll kill you next time . . .”
“I hear you, Annie, I hear you.”
Her hands grabbed my coat at my shoulders.
Shit, I thought a moment before she yanked me out of the car and let gravity do its thing to smash me down onto the pavement ass first. My poor ass . . . I’m telling ya, it’s not plump enough for this abuse.
“There’s no reason for theatrics. Theatrics get you dead, King Henry. I thought you were levelheaded, Ceinwyn said you were levelheaded!”
“Ceinwyn . . .” I mumbled, “is a pants-on-fire liar. Just like you.”
I was too tired, too worn out to stand back up right away. I’d taken a beating from Lefty. I’d saved Annie B. I’d used the Shaky Stick and barely survived it. I caused an earthquake but stopped it before it got too big . . . I think I deserved a quick rest, even if it was on the ground. That’s where I’m most at home, after all.
Annie B glared down at me. “What’s that mean?” she growled.
She looked like shit. Worse than I did. Guess fighting a vampire countess bent on your death to the point where they’re making elaborate plans will do that to you. Joan of Arc . . . vampire . . . still can’t believe it. Anymore than I could believe Annie B. Her clothes were torn and cut and bloody . . . or gooey I guess. Especially on her hands. So red they were scarlet. But her stance . . . it was damned sure of itself. Annie B. B. Shit me. Couldn’t believe it’s real.
“You know what I’m talking about, Baroness Boleyn.”
She crossed her arms under her breasts, face framed in a ‘V’ of forearm from where I looked up at her. Her neck choker just barely peeked over the edge. “You’re the one who thought I’m some crazy woman screwing with you based on your name.”
“I saw your picture once, you don’t look like it,” I decided.
“That portrait was made five-hundred years ago,” she pointed out. “We didn’t have digital cameras back then.”
“Still . . .”
“Fine . . .” she agreed. “I’ve changed a bit to keep up with the beauty of the times. It’s my shell, I’m allowed.”
I studied her harder than I ever had before. More than the first time I judged her in my shop, more than the times I’d judged her since, more than even when we were in that bed, grinding against each other.
Face was a bit different, but not as much as I thought. Eyes were the same. Skin color’s the same. Whatever time period, she’s beautiful. A woman to bring down a kingdom. My namesake didn’t have a chance.
“I did ask you directly one time, you told me you weren’t.”
She thought about it for a bit. I didn’t mind. I was comfortable on the ground.
We were outside my shop, I noticed. Far away from the crazy ass vampire gated community. Vampire duels in the community recreation center, what’s wrong with those people?
KING HENRY’S HIDDEN TREASURES.
My sign. Hidden treasures all right. The cold ring worked like a charm. So did my second little helper. I solved my problems the Artificer way.
“Anne Boleyn was a silly little girl,” Annie B said finally. “I’m not her.”
Guess that’s true. “But when did you take over in the story I know . . . that’s the question, ain’t it?”
“The vampire . . . leaders . . . had been looking at a way to pay back the Papacy and the Catholic Church since the Inquisition caught and killed so many of my kind,” she explained coldly, without emotion, like she hadn’t lived it or played a part in it all. “Luther’s Reformation had already sprung up on its own but it was decided that it could use a push. All across Europe, what reformers there were weren’t fairing well. Small pockets, hidden meetings, even more hidden books on the subject. They needed a beacon and England . . . an island backwater, important but not too important, but with possibilities, not a large army, but also well defended by geography and the ocean, as the Spanish would eventually learn . . .”
“Got to love them natural disasters,” I snapped with a smile.
She smiled too, but ruefully. “I can’t believe you destroyed the Earthquake Baton.”
“Maybe I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“How you know until you strip me naked to check for it?” I asked, very curious. I hadn’t expected to pass out. If I’d been awake, I never would have let her touch me . . . but passed out . . .
She expression seemed insulted. “I did search you, not naked . . . but I touched more pieces than I want to ever again. I don’t trust you that much.”
Now that’s interesting. Cuz here’s the game if you haven’t figured it out yet. Shaky Stick’s still around. It was hanging out of my coat pocket. If you opened my coat, you couldn’t miss it. The thing I destroyed in front of the Vamps was a replica made for exactly that purpose. Fine bit of artificing on my part. Even more fine bit of acting on my part.
I’d hoped Annie B would buy it too. But she hadn’t. She’d checked. And she hadn’t seen it.
What is this thing?
“So Vamps hate the Pope,” I distracted the conversation, “How do you come in?”
“A . . . leader . . . was personally dispatched to oversee the ploy and searched for a suitable human girl to split inside and spawn a new vampire,” Annie B said. “Anne was chosen . . . I was born and ordered to seduce the king away from the queen. You know the rest of the story.”
I frowned. “What about Elizabeth?”
She didn’t like those memories. I could see it in her face. “Our shells can do everything humans can, King Henry. Even children. Even lose children . . .”
“Your whatever-the-fuck made you manipulate your body into still-birthing?” I thought aloud, figuring how the plots were weaving.
“An heir was forbidden. She wanted England at war with itself like the country was a testing ground for further conflicts into the next century,” she explained. “Only . . . my husband grew tired of me despite all my skills and wiles . . . at politics and in bed—”
“Very nice wiles, I got to say.”
“—And I grew tired with hiding what I was and got careless, slept with other men from Anne’s past as a way to try to remember what it was like to be human even though those are just memories I’d stolen. He even caught me feeding once, though he thought it to be witchcraft.”
“Explains that one.”
She nodded. “I was arrested and ordered to be executed. M
y mistress grew furious with me.”
“And you got your head cut off,” I remember from school.
Annie B nodded again, dropping herself down onto the pavement with me. Her hand moved up to her choker and undid the latch. I was shocked to see a smooth scar around the length of her neck. She enjoyed my reaction. “My one mercy was a very talented executioner. One stroke to the neck.”
“Which doesn’t kill a vampire . . .”
“No. They put me in a coffin and buried me. I burrowed my head back to my body and then attached it just as you saw with my arm. Even as a servant, I’ve always been very skilled with my true body’s manipulation.”
“Then why the scar?” I asked.
Her velvet eyes glinted. “To remember I’m not human.”
There was that . . . “Guess not. Kind of still like you though, especially when you ain’t punching me.”
Which earned me a hammer-fist to my forehead.
Ceinwyn always said my big mouth was going to get me into trouble.
“I like you too, King Henry,” Annie B smiled down at me.
I rubbed my forehead. “Especially when . . .”
“Especially when you let yourself care,” she decided.
“Yup, that’s me. Caring all the time. Used to have the band-aid to prove it.”
She got herself up and helped me up too. We brushed off, then we just stared at each other for a bit.
People were out in the shopping center, walking by us, but giving us wide berths on account of the bruises, scrapes, cuts, and blood. After all that fun, it was over.
“That’s it, I guess,” I finally said. “Unless you want to have I’m-glad-I’m-still-alive sex.”
“I can’t believe you destroyed it,” she accused.
“I didn’t mean too.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Yeah . . . I did.” At least the fake one. “Can’t let anyone have that thing in my town.”
“But you saved my life.”
“Yeah . . . I did.”
She tossed me the cold ring I’d given her. “Thanks for the loan.”
I held it in my palm. Nice piece of work, King Henry. “What about the cuffs?” I asked.
“No idea what you’re talking about.” She poked her head back into the car and came out with an envelope, which she handed over. “Your payment.”
“Money ain’t gonna distract me,” I pointed out, crossing my own arms.
“A list of your services is included.” Annie B gave me a wink as she went over to the other side of the car. “Don’t spend it all on one anima vial.”
I sighed. I didn’t feel like getting into another fight over the cuffs after everything I’d been through. Plus . . . I’d stolen something from her too. Guess it’s fair. Hopefully she’d think of me when she used them.
“Tell your friends about the things you don’t have that really belong to me. I’ll make them a pair if they pay.”
“Will do.” She opened the car door. “You enjoy it?” she asked, meaning the whole experience.
I shrugged. “Pretty straightforward. Could have been more complicated, don’t you think? I mean, go to San Francisco, look around, come back, kill the Vamps responsible. Where’s the twists and turns, ya know?”
She grinned at me. “Maybe next time, Artificer Price.”
I grinned back. “Stay away from me, Baroness Boleyn.”
That’s the last time I saw Annie B . . .
. . . for a whole year.
[CLICK]
My shop was as messed up as it had been the night before, but I didn’t have the strength left to bother cleaning it up yet. Another disaster for another day. Actually, it was worse than the night before. I paused only briefly, but long enough to check out apparent earthquake damage.
“Motherfucker,” I said aloud, feeling particularly foul. I hefted the thick envelope in my hand. How much had she paid me?
“It can wait,” I told myself.
I walked away from the disaster zone, eyeing a two foot crack in one of my walls with disgust. I had other answers I wanted first, way before what was in the envelope. Only one person could give them. And I’m going to give something back to her. Like a whole bunch of grief.
My phone in my office was on the floor. The receiver barely hung on to my desk. I feel you, buddy.
Bending over, I picked up the phone, wincing. Office didn’t look too bad. My bed was trashed but it hadn’t been the earthquake that caused that. I smiled, a thin line forming over my lips. I had sex with a vampire. Killed another vampire. Caused an earthquake. Saw San Francisco. Flew in a plane. Stole the most powerful artifact I’d ever heard of and better yet . . . no one knew I had it.
Hell of a couple days.
I pulled the Shaky Stick from my pocket now that I was alone.
Anima already built inside of it, but the pool seemed small compared to what it had been before the quake. “How did you hide from Annie B?” I asked it.
No answer.
Go figure.
Jade alright, pure pale jade, the whole thing carved like it was wood not precious stone. Mountains, rocks, and Japanese lettering. I was going to have to buy a translation book. And a safe . . . a hidden safe. With lots of padding . . .
I set it carefully on the desk, changed my attention to my phone. I dialed.
“Bonjour,” Ceinwyn greeted me.
“You’re in Paris?”
“Belgium, but my tutor never taught me Dutch.”
“Don’t they have a school? Academy of something?”
“The Continental Academy of Elementalism, founded 1950. I’m not recruiting. The Lady sent me as an Institution representative.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Any reason you’re calling, King Henry?” she asked, just barely keeping the smile out of her tone, but I knew her well enough to know it blossomed the minute she saw my name on her caller ID. “I usually have to call you every hour on the hour to get a hold of you.”
“Yeah.”
“So?”
“I hate you.”
“Oh dear.”
“What possibly possessed you to mention my name to a vampire?”
“Did Anne bruise your pride?”
“Ceinwyn . . . I could have died.”
“With her around? I doubt it. It’s good experience for you. It got you out of your workshop. How was San Francisco?”
“Too much water.”
“Always a nice breeze though.”
“Ceinwyn,” I tried again. “You realize Annie B and I got into a huge fight right off the bat and you caused it, right?”
“Who won?” she asked, eyes going all interesting I’m sure.
“Kind of a draw.”
“That means you lost?”
“That means I got choked unconscious with a rope of blood and then the second time I dropped a car on her.”
Silence, then, “And how did you manage that with a small little insignificant five-minute-pool, King Henry?”
I nodded. Knew it. “That’s what you wanted.”
“Welcome to the one in a million world, King Henry. Not even every Ultra gets this far. About one in four we think.”
“Yeah . . .”
“Don’t experiment too much to begin with; you have time to figure all the limits out. No need to rush.”
“Yeah . . .”
“Call if you need advice.”
“Ceinwyn . . .”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, King Henry.”
“One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“You think it was just an easy job where I went to San Francisco and looked around for her, don’t you?”
Her voice got sharp real quick. “What happened?”
“Ask Annie B.”
I clicked off the phone. Yeah, that was cruel. About as cruel as Ceinwyn had been pitting us against each other. I couldn’t help but laugh thinking about the conversation those two woul
d have. “Almost makes it worth it.”
I sighed, picking up the Shaky Stick again. “Got you and anima pool limits and static rings and maybe if Cold Cuffs go vampire sex toy, those to churn out too. Busy, busy, busy, Shaky Stick, how we going to find the time? Or the money for that matter?”
I finally opened the envelope.
Fifty-five hundreds.
I whistled to myself. Not bad for two days work. The receipt listed five-thousand as the payout for consultation but Annie B had scrawled a note in flowing cursive handwriting at the bottom of it. “Four-fifty is for the blood, you can figure out the rest, I hope. Fifty bucks . . . damn insulting, Shaky Stick, damn insulting. See if I have I’m-going-to-die sex with her ever again.”
The phone rang. I put down the cash to answer it.
“Yeah?”
“Boy?”
I almost dropped the Shaky Stick. Which I think we can all agree would have been bad. “Dad?”
We hadn’t talked in probably six months. He called me for my birthday in June. Longer than six months. Hadn’t even talked to him for Christmas, kept telling myself I’m too busy. It really wasn’t that. It was just hard with all the Mom stuff between us. Plus . . . I’d never really wanted to tell him about the Mancy, especially not artificing. It just . . . got in the way . . . made us think of her. Better to pretend it didn’t exist. Better to pretend you were too busy.
“Who else would call you ‘boy’?” he asked.
“You got me there, Dad.”
Silence.
“I was just checking on you. Saw the quake on the news, everyone’s talking about it. 6.2, big one. Warehouse is always shaking anyway, we didn’t realize it had happened until one of the office gals came in and told us. Visalia is pretty far from Fresno, but people still felt it here.”
“Yeah . . . it was something alright.” 6.2, not bad . . .
“You okay though?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I walked out of my office, through my workshop, and out on the store floor. “Broke some of my merchandize, so I’m closed for the day.” Almost died . . . I thought, but didn’t say it.
“Good to hear, boy. You doing okay beside that?”
I thought about the question. Five-thousand dollars or not, I was still broke. The Fresno Vampire Embassy knew who I am. The San Francisco Embassy too for that matter. But it could have been worse.
The Foul Mouth and the Fanged Lady (The King Henry Tapes Book 1) Page 28