“Dieter,” Rei asked. “I know he’s sneaky, but can the lieutenant fly?”
“He’s practicing,” I replied. “Hey, Rei? You know what would be like totally awesome?”
“Oh! What? Tell me. Tell me, tell me, tell me!”
“We should totally go on top of the roof. Can you give me a hand?”
“You are so right, Dieter. The roof would be totally A, W, E, awesome. We could watch the sunrise!”
I let that that one slide and rushed to the window. Rei hopped out onto the sill, grabbed my hand, and yanked. As I flew through the air, it felt like my whole right arm was coming out of its socket. (Nope, check that, it was out of its socket.) I flopped onto the roof cradling the bundle with my left. My right side screamed in protest. I’d worry about the pain later—fifteen seconds later to be precise.
Rei was skipping about next to me singing “Good Morning, Good Morning,” from Singin’ in the Rain. What the heck was up with Rei and show tunes? I searched the landscape frantically. Auditorium? Negative. Lawn full of students pointing? Negative. Albright’s red Corvette? Probative. Elliot Pond? Perfect.
“Hey, Rei?”
“Whatsit?”
“I bet you can’t throw this into the pond from here.”
“Oh, pu-leeease, Dieter. I am a P-u-r-e Nostophoros, not some mausoleum trash.”
“Then prove it, Ms. Puerile,” I said presenting her the explosives.
There were ten seconds left. If this didn’t work, I was going to have to take flying lessons with Dante.
Rei flexed her slender biceps. “Be awed, puny magus!” She snatched the charge, and before I realized it was gone, had hurled the bomb at the poor, unsuspecting pond. The explosives soared through the air with the greatest of ease and disappeared into the icy waters with a plop.
I sat down on the roof in exhaustion. My right shoulder was throbbing something fierce, and I really wasn’t looking forward to re-setting it. Rei plopped down next to me and leaned her head on my wounded arm. It was the second time she managed to paralyze me tonight. I fought the urge to scream.
“Dieter?” she said in a tone I didn’t like one bit. “I don’t feel so good.”
I cringed as Rei puked a few liters of blood all over my lap.
Bleary eyed, she looked up at me. “Sorry. I drank too much.”
I walked casually to the front of my brain and murdered my sense of smell.
“Don’t worry about it, partner,” I said patting her head.
“Hey…” she said, pointing an unsteady finger at me, “you…you don’t you call me that. That’s top-super-double-secret.”
“Sorry, partner. I won’t do it again.”
“You better not,” she mumbled, “cuz I’m a Pure.”
With a flash of light our three residence halls—and about three dozen innocent koi—were incinerated in giant balls of flame.
“Ooooh, pretty,” Rei remarked.
“Quite,” I managed. I was thankful my sense of smell was currently being chalk marked. Blood-breath isn’t an odor you’d care to sample.
Chapter 21
COMING DOWN
It took a bit of work getting Rei off the roof. It was thirty minutes to sunrise. That combined with her ‘overindulgence’ made Rei a drowsy mess. To make matters worse, my right arm was dangling about an inch too low. The professors’ had shifted back into the natural world at around the time of the blast. Now they were running about, pretending like they knew what they were doing. Helping us off the roof, Albright looked plain terrible. The deaths of Simons, Greggs, and Conroy must have been quite a shock. The faculty had been caught completely unawares. They seemed as surprised as the rest of us. Thankfully, not a single student died. At least they could take solace in that.
Albright told me to take Rei home and be back at Central in three hours for a debriefing. A huge crowd of students was waiting outside the faculty lodge. They broke out in applause as I emerged carrying Rei on my shoulders. I near gagged as my Sight exploded from the attention, so I was grateful when a few seconds later the clapping kinda died off. Heroes aren’t supposed be covered in plaster and blood-puke.
Sadie was standing in the middle of the crowd wearing her bunny slippers and robe. She was explaining to a group of Kappa’s how she’d taught me everything I knew. I smiled. As far as I was concerned, Sadie could say whatever she wanted. I’d nearly drowned and/or blown her up. That earned her plenty of capital. I gave her a grin and thumbs-up. Jules was less amused. She came running over with a concerned look in her eyes. She eyed Rei’s slumped form warily, and then turned her attention to my mangled limb.
“Your shoulder!” she cried.
“Don’t worry, Jules, I’ll be alright.”
“Of course ya will. But Awen’s Ghost, Dieter, let me practice on it! I’ve been workin’ on this new spell that’ll be just parfect!”
“Yay,” Rei mumbled. “Puppies.”
“How about you just throw it back into its socket?”
“With my hands?” Jules asked incredulously.
Roster walked over and lifted Jules aside. Her little legs kicked futilely in the air.
“Oi, Roster! I’ll kick yer ass. Put me down!” she screeched.
“Chill, cupcake,” Roster boomed. “Breaking bones is my specialty. I just have to do it backwards, right?”
A wince and scream later and my shoulder was back in the right place. Roster showed some promise as an orthopedist. The sun was gonna rise soon, and I didn’t want to dally, but before I left, I made sure to tell Monique where Dante was probably roosting. Roster’s eyes lit up when he heard the news. Fodder for at least a year of razzing, I presumed.
I ditched my blood soaked robe and wrapped Rei up in a spare bed sheet for coverage. As I walked through the crowd, I ignored the waves of questions bombarding me from every side. I even managed to brush off a snide comment from one of the Beta’s about vampire blowjobs.
Sheila didn’t. She clocked the asshole right in the face.
Mindless slaughter really seemed to bring us Lambdas together.
I trudged the quarter mile to the groundskeeper’s cabin alone. My shoulder ached from the dislocation, my lungs burned from the fumes, and my face throbbed from Rei’s elbow. Then there was the fatigue. All that casting had really taxed my reserves. Still, despite all the pain, I felt relieved. Sure it had been messy, but we had done something good tonight. People were alive that should have been dead. People I cared about. People who cared about me. It also helped that—despite being 5’10’’ and able to leap small buildings in a single bound—Rei couldn’t weigh more than ninety pounds. That got me thinking. I was trudging into a forest with a dangerous predator nestled on my back. I could feel her head resting on my shoulder. I could smell her (bad) breath as it tickled past my neck. I was toting a freaking vampire. She could wake with a start and have my life in an instant. That should have scared me senseless. That should have made me dump her and run. But I wasn’t scared. I felt at peace. Life felt more doable. More complete.
Forming that weft-link with Rei might explain some things: the intense blood lust that overwhelmed my senses, the surprise Dante expressed at Rei’s sudden interest in humor, the two flashbacks we had somehow shared, and even the strange visions I’d experienced. But those side effects weren’t my main concern. What troubled me most was the sense of emptiness I felt when Rei wasn’t around. Never in my life had the simple presence of another made me feel so good. I didn’t want that to be because of the link. A cold breeze rushed through the trees, and I shivered in my soggy clothes. What a horrible thought. What if my feelings for Rei were nothing more than the byproduct of some errant magic? Stars above, what if they were fake?
The sun crested over the horizon, and Rei tensed around my shoulders. Her grip became so tight that it hurt.
“Easy, now,” I whispered. “We’re almost home.”
“Okay, Nana,” she mumbled.
I listened to my feet crunch the gravel leading up t
o Rei’s cabin.
What was worse, fake feelings or no feelings?
Cumo bellowed a warning and came charging over in a giant white huff. He circled, eyeing the scene disapprovingly. At least I thought so. The guy had so much hair you couldn’t really see his eyes. Working the handle with my elbow, I stumbled through Rei’s door. Cumo planted himself on the stoop, his body guarding the doorway like a hockey goalie. I smiled at him. Something told me Rei worried very little about being disturbed during the day.
I set Rei down on one of the two wooden chairs at her kitchen table and scoped out the space. Heavy blackout curtains covered all the windows; I had to turn on a lamp to see. Such curtains weren’t new to me. Plenty of folks worked graveyard shifts back in Vegas. Even my dad had a set. A small kitchenette sat to the right, a kettle and a few cups resting on the bare counter. A large silver refrigerator occupied one entire corner. The digital display on the front read 4°C. Just above freezing. Perfect for storing blood. She lives on human blood. That ridiculous statement kept bouncing around my head. The fridge shouldn’t have surprised me. Rei’d just puked blood all over me, but the cold metal appliance said, “This is what I am,” better than anything else I’d seen.
The rest of Rei’s tiny home was as understated as the kitchenette. A small bookshelf filled to capacity. I noted the usual campus lit, and a few older volumes from the library stacked on top. A signed poster of Brad Pitt occupied one wall. (I vaguely recalled that old movie. Wasn’t Brad the one who ate rats?) A little fireplace sat in the center. The standard Elliot dresser and bed finished off the left side.
I stared at the bed for a long time.
No coffin…it was a bit of a let down…but also a bit of a…
Rei muttered, “dog food,” from her seat face down at the table.
“Okay, this is not going to work.” I roused her from her sleep, and after a bit of effort, I managed to guide her rather stiff limbs in the direction of the bathroom and turn on the water. “You, stinky, that, shower,” I said fleeing the vicinity. It was scary in there. There was potpourri.
From the sound of things, there appeared to be some progress being made, so I grabbed a pair of PJs out of one of Rei drawers. Then I sorta froze up. I was stymied. Did girls wear bras to bed? How about panties? I doubted that porn was a reliable indicator (it did tend to mislead on the important things), so I hedged, grabbed three of each, and piled them high on top of the PJs. I knocked and announced, “I’m sending in a change of clothing now,” like a hostage negotiator to a madwoman. After receiving approval, in triplicate, signed and notarized, I cracked open the door and sent in the goods.
Retreating to the fireplace, I brooded. I didn’t know what to do. This type of high-tension scenario didn’t require napalm, floods of fruit juice, or exploding schoolhouses. I was entirely out of my element. I steadied myself with a hand on the mantle, but in my clumsiness, nudged something off onto the floor. I looked down to see a pair of Ray-Bans. The same pair I’d given her in New York. I replaced the sunglasses, stepped back from the fireplace, and fumbled for a chair.
In literally all belief systems, the hearth is the center of a home. In Ancient Greece and Rome, the first offering a family made in the morning wasn’t to Zeus. Nope. It was always to Hestia, the goddess of the hearth. She was a deity that far preceded the Olympian gods. In the Greek’s mythology, Hestia was given pride of place as Chronos’ first born. (Yea, that’s right, Zeus might have kicked Chronos’ ass, but Hestia was his first-born.) The pagans of Europe shared a similar belief, and those two cultures didn’t agree on anything.
I wiped the sweat from my brow. Why had Rei placed my sunglasses at the center of her mantel? Was I reading too much into this? Perhaps. But respect for the central flame was a constant across every single continent. Africa, Asia, North and South America, take your pick. Rei would be a person intensely aware of those conventions, yet her hearth was totally barren: no idols, no photos, no commemorative plates. Just a silly pair of sunglasses. In fact, the whole room was Spartan. Sure, Rei seemed to have a ton of clothes jammed into her closet, and I spotted her fencing bag by the door, but there were no stuffed animals, or letters, or care packages in sight. Even a dullard like me knew that normal people gave and received gifts from time to time. From Sadie’s bunny mug, to the Dante’s mom’s regular pie shipments, the Lambda common room was stuffed to the brim with random crud from friends and family. Heck, even my dad had sent me a gift. (Sure, it was only a voucher for a one-way ticket back to Vegas, but it was the thought that counted, right?) As I looked around Rei’s flat, I wondered. Did her family just not do that sort of thing?
Rei didn’t give me much time to ponder. She was already fumbling with the door to her bathroom. Her sunglasses were a little off kilter, so I leapt to my feet to right them. I was unclear on the consequences, but “do not fuck with vampire-hearth” was ringing in my ears. Rei opened the door, and I jammed my guilty hands back into my soggy pockets.
Mr. Duck PJ top? Check. Floral panties? Check.
PJ bottoms?
PJ bottoms?
I swallowed hard. Three feet of naked white legs were making their way across the tiny room. Eyes already closed, Rei fumbled for her bed.
Vampiress, I repeated to myself. Big. Bad. Vampiress.
Rei crawled on top of the covers and collapsed onto her belly with a sigh.
My head exploded.
Stars above, not the ass…do they even make asses like that? Like…like…little bubbles…that must be all muscle…I mean to flex like that…
I engaged countermeasures. I counted floorboards. Listed off prime numbers. Mapped out state capitals. It wasn’t enough. My libido went into open revolt. Desperate, I pulled out my hand and bit down on my knuckle. I gagged. It was a blood-puke covered knuckle…that did it.
“Dieter,” Rei whined. “I’m cold.”
I put my hands on my hips and frowned. I’d not be tricked so easily.
“Rei Bathory, you are a vampire. You spent all of last night walking around in a tank top.”
“Everybody likes warm covers.”
Damn it. That was basically irrefutable…
“Fine,” I grumbled.
Come on, Dieter, my libido urged, you already defused one bomb today…
I frowned. That guy was getting shifty. The key was no skin-to-skin contact. If I could avoid any skin-to-skin, I was golden. I grabbed the sheet by its corners and rolled Rei up like a taco. Withdrawing to a safe distance, I crossed my arms and examined my work.
Curses! The maneuver had covered her head, and unfortunately the part about vampires not needing to breath was false. I moved in again and peeled back the sheets. Rei turned to face me. Her sleepy eyes met my own. I dodged desperately.
Vampiress. Big. Bad—
“Dieter?”
She smelled faintly of lavender…it was a trap. The bite was coming. I just knew it.
“Yes?” I asked, preparing for the worst.
“My most rancid colleague, go take a shower.”
I raised an eyebrow. Her voice had changed.
“Hey, since when did you sober up?”
“Since you started stinking up my home. Bathe. You smell of sweat, gasoline, and stale Mexican hit men. Fetch a pair of sweatpants from my dresser. They shall offer a passable fit.”
“Sure thing, Rei,” I said, sneaking toward the front door.
“Dieter Resnick, I will glamour you so fast…”
“No fair, you sobering up.” I shuffled over to the drawer and looked through the sweats. They were all pink. “Oh, come on, Rei.”
“Dieter, I cannot have you walking around in public covered in our enemies’ blood. Relations are tenuous and appearances matter. There is washer out back. I must rest now, but we can talk tonight. Good day.”
“Yes, master,” I grumbled.
“Don’t give me ideas,” Rei shot back.
I walked into the bathroom and peeled of the disgusting remnants of my western and jeans.
It took some effort. I couldn’t raise my right arm easily. The swelling and pain was coming on strong. Getting my shirt off, I noticed a huge welt was developing right above my hip. I stared at the mirror for a good thirty seconds. I’d been shot. Remembering to fortify my robe had saved my life.
The shower felt great. The heat worked like magic on my sore muscles. I watched as the water made a gradual transition from pink to clear, the lives of three men washing off with it. I felt nothing for them. Sure, I could appreciate the loss of life, the waste of it, but their deaths didn’t come with one ounce of guilt or shame. That puzzled me. I’d hurt a lot of people last night. I’d made a willful decision to kill. At least two had died by my own hands. And yet I felt nothing. I shifted uncomfortably. It was just like with Tyrone. But even that sore topic couldn’t hold my attention. There were larger concerns. Why were we attacked? Were the bastards coming back? My friends had nearly been murdered, and I did have feelings about that. I also knew an absolute truth: You couldn’t let a bully hit you and hope he’d go away. You had to make him bleed; that was the only way.
I decided to get moving. I cut the water and grabbed for a towel. There was only one.
“Great,” I grumbled. I didn’t see any other options, and I could just throw it in with the rest of the wash, so I just grabbed it and toweled off. The easy smell of lavender filled my nostrils. The smell of Rei…it was such a wonderful scent. It reinvigorated me like a cup of coffee. Finished drying off, I slid into the ill-fitting pink sweats, collected all the nasty garments, and opened the door to her room. Rei was curled up in a ball, and it looked like she was out cold. I crept across her room and out the front door as quietly as I could. Cumo raised his head, took a whiff of the clothes, and trotted a few yards down the road.
I smiled grimly. You know it’s bad when the dog thinks it stinks. Around back there was a sink, a tool cabinet, and an ancient washing machine. I scrounged around in the cabinet. The thing was full of all sorts of stuff. Some of the tools were for yard work and others for working with livestock. Being city folk, I couldn’t make heads or tales of most of it, but I did find some detergent and a can of black polish. I dumped the clothes in the washer and started it up. As it roared to life, I threw the two sets of boots into the sink and got to work.
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