“You talked with Boston?” She nodded in response. “The same Boston that’s aware of what you guys did while Gan was over here?” Another nod. “And they didn’t freak out, threaten you with death, any of that stuff?”
“No. They were quite cordial, actually. This one vampire my master talked to -Colin, I think his name was - he didn’t seem to like you very much.”
Motherfucker! I put my face into my hands while I absorbed all of this.
“Really?” Tom asked. “I would’ve thought the vampires wouldn’t be too big on you guys.”
“My people aren’t at war with the vampires, just...”
“Me,” I finished.
“Pretty much,” she confirmed. “Besides, we reached out to them diplomatically. There are protocols around these types of things.”
“Jesus Christ, does everyone know these protocols except me?”
“Yeah, it does seem you’re always the last to find out about these things,” Tom said, echoing my sentiment. “Maybe you should get Sally to keep you in the loop a bit more.”
I shrugged in return and took an extra long pull on my beer. The way this was going, I might need a chaser of significantly higher proof.
While I did so, Tom said to Christy, “Cool. I guess we get to take a vacation together on the supernatural world’s dime.”
“It’s not really a vacation, Tom,” she chided. “We’re going to be in different parties and we’ll be traveling there separately. Technically speaking, we shouldn’t even fraternize during it.”
“Not at all?” Tom asked, a mock-frown on his face.
“Well, I guess we could sneak away for a little...”
“I don’t need the details,” I interrupted.
“Oh, yeah, speaking of details,” Tom asked, “Did the vamps tell you where this was all going down?”
“No,” she replied. “That’s still being worked out. We should know in a week. They said once that’s decided they’re flying in a special envoy to work with Bill.”
“They are?” I asked, looking up.
“Let me guess,” Tom surmised. “They didn’t tell you that part either.”
Hell’s Hair Salon
By Wednesday, I couldn’t take it any more. I couldn’t get anyone in Boston to return my calls. James was apparently busy and Colin was being a prick. I hadn’t heard anything from Sally either. Between that, the stress of not knowing, and the added agitation of being certain that the love of my life had left for parts unknown, I was getting absolutely nothing done at work. Fortunately, my boss was too busy trying to figure out his own paperwork to bug me much. Gotta love downtime.
After the sun had set, I decided to head over to the coven. Maybe someone there could fill me in a bit more about this ancient war with Bigfoot. At the very least, the women of the coven were distracting eye candy. A little T&A wasn’t exactly a bad way to kill a few hours. Hey, I never claimed I wasn’t shallow.
I made my way first to the loft. It was located right in the middle of SoHo. Back when I was alive, you couldn’t have paid me to hang out there. There’s only so much vacuous smarm I can take without retching. However, as luck would have it, I just so happened to be in charge of a group of vampires who are headquartered there. Yeah, life sometimes has a funny way of telling you to go fuck yourself. Anyway, the loft was where it all started for me, it being the place where I was turned. It just so happened to also be one of the coven’s more popular hangouts. Sally in particular had a fondness for it, often using it as her home when not at the office. If she was lying low, there was a good chance it would be at the loft.
Alas, no such luck. I found a few coven members milling about a dead body, a not uncommon sight. However, seeing no sign of Sally, and not really wanting to know much more about the circumstances around their kill (I lost enough sleep as it was), I decided to try the office instead.
Much to my surprise, Starlight, still in her conscripted role as secretary, told me that Sally was in. I started toward her office, but Star held up her hand. She hooked a thumb and pointed it toward the back. Upon my questioning glance, she smiled sheepishly and made it a point to get back to typing.
Okay, whatever that meant. I turned toward the rear of the floor. There was a changing area, complete with full shower facilities at the back. It was a handy thing to have for vampires. Unlike me, a good deal of the coven preferred their food alive and squirming. Being what we are, that ensured things tended to get messy. Stain resistant carpets, French drains, and places to clean up are necessities for any facility owned and operated by vamps.
Perhaps Sally had just returned from a hunt. She definitely had no problems with taking live prey. Considering how she looked: petite, blonde, and absolutely gorgeous, she didn’t often have much problem attracting her next meal. On the upside, if she was in the back room that meant I had a chance of sneaking a peek at her in the shower. It would probably get me slugged (and Sally could pack a hell of a punch for her size), but it would be worth it...no question there.
As I got closer, my sensitive vampire ears began to pick up sounds from ahead. There was definitely water running, although it sounded more like one of the sinks. However, that wasn’t what caught my ear. I picked up heavy, content breathing complimented by the occasional sigh of pleasure. I stopped walking but continued to listen. Sure eavesdropping is rude, but fuck that shit. Being the head of a vampire coven means never having to apologize.
The sighs continued. It sounded like...holy shit! Was Sally getting it on with someone? Here, I was struck by a moral dilemma (something rare in the vampire community). On the one hand, Sally was allowed her privacy. She was my partner in the coven. Hell, she had saved my ass on more than one occasion. She deserved it. On the flipside, when was I going to get another chance to see her getting plowed? Oh, yeah, that decided it.
But still, I hesitated. Something didn’t feel right about this. After a moment, I pulled out my cell phone and turned the camera on. Now it felt right.
Holding it in front of me, I hit “record” and walked through the door.
“Don’t mind me,” I cheerfully called out. “Just keep on doing what you’re...” What the hell was she doing?
Sally, wearing a silk robe, was seated in a chair. Her bare feet were immersed in a portable foot bath. As for the rest of her, the chair was inclined and her head was leaning back in one of the sinks. A somewhat effeminate looking man, one I had never seen before, was busy washing her hair.
Upon hearing my voice, she opened her eyes and raised her head. She looked at me, then at my phone, cocking an eyebrow in the process. “Nice try, Bill,” she commented, leaning back again.
“What the...” I stammered. The man gave me the once over, sniffed, and then went back to rinsing Sally’s hair.
“Who is this?” I asked.
Without moving, Sally gave another sigh of contentment and replied, “Bill, meet Alfonzo. Alfonzo, Bill.”
“Alfonzo?”
“He’s my stylist,” she explained as if that answered anything.
“Stylist? You can’t just bring a person...” I stepped forward and took a breath. I smelled shampoo, conditioner, Sally’s expensive perfume (damn she smelled nice. Not that I would ever tell her that), and something else. My senses weren’t as acute as an older vampire’s were, but at Sally’s insistence, I had been practicing. For a moment, I was confused, but then I realized what it was. Alfonzo wasn’t human...at least he wasn’t anymore.
“What the hell did you do?” I snapped.
Alfonzo, thinking I was speaking to him, replied in a nasally accent, “I am accentuating her highlights in preparation for...” I tuned out the rest. Jeez, I hate to stereotype, but this guy sounded just like I would imagine an overpriced SoHo stylist. We’re talking a grade-A, bad Inspector Clouseau imitation here.
“Not you,” I replied. “In fact, would you mind giving Sally and me a moment?”
“Impossible!” he spat in a prissy tone. “The color must be managed
down to ze’ precise...”
“GET OUT!” I commanded. Compulsion was another thing Sally had been bugging me to practice. I hadn’t thought much of it before then, as I haven’t met too many vampires younger than I am. Still, I could see how it could come in handy.
Though my compulsion wasn’t nearly the strength of some others, it had the desired effect. Alfonzo’s eyes glazed over. He straightened up and, without another word, marched from the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Finally got that figured out?” Sally asked conversationally from where she still reclined.
“Thanks to you,” I replied. “Now if you’d be so kind, can you please explain Alfonzo?”
She raised her head to meet my gaze. “I already told you. He’s my stylist. He’s been doing my hair for years. Oh, the things that man can do to a scalp,” she said dreamily.
“Fascinating, I’m sure. And has Alfonzo always been a vampire?”
“No.”
“So you turned him?”
“Yep. That’s typically how it works.”
“WHY?” I screamed.
She looked at me innocently before answering, “I’ve been stressed and Alfonzo’s salon has been all booked up.”
“So you turned him into a vampire?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time. We’re still short on members and he does great work. You really should let him give you a manicure. Your nails are looking a little ratty. He is heaven with a file...”
“I don’t need a manicure. And who the fuck gave you permission to recruit new members?”
She just arched her eyebrows at me. In front of the others, I was in charge. Behind the scenes, though, Sally was on equal terms with me...maybe even slightly more than equal. Her look told me she wasn’t about to be intimidated.
Trying another tactic, I changed my tone. “Besides, weren’t you the one who told me that only the coven master could recruit? That there were rituals that needed to be respected?”
She appeared to consider this for a moment before blithely answering, “Yeah, but you said it yourself...those rituals are stupid.”
Damn, she had me there. There were formal rites that were supposed to be performed when one was accepted into a coven, but they were idiotic, not much better than a fraternity initiation. I had told Sally as much on more than one occasion, not considering that she would probably use my words against me. I should’ve known better. Sally is a rattlesnake in a size-four dress and three-inch heels.
“Besides,” she continued. “I thought you wanted to branch out from the typical muscle heads that Jeff used to recruit.”
Again, she had me. Jeff had been a spoiled, pretty-boy, douche bag asshole. As such, all the other males in the coven had likewise been of similar caliber. They and I had proven to be a bad mix. Thanks to the Khan’s assassins, however, there were now far fewer of them to contend with. That aside, though, I had been putting off active recruitment for the coven because...well, it just seemed like such a fucking evil thing to do. Sure there are plenty of goth weirdos who would jump at the chance to be moody for all of eternity, but I had envisioned a coven populated by a more normal, well-adjusted crowd. The problem is; how do you approach someone like that with the offer of “Hey, can I kill you so you can join my army of the undead?” Apparently, Sally wasn’t concerned with minor details such as this.
“Yes,” I said. “But that didn’t mean you had free rein to make someone your eternal slave just because they happen to do a passable job of covering up your roots.”
“I’ll have you know I’m a natural blonde.”
“Yeah, and I look like Johnny Depp,” I countered.
“You might look more like him if you let Alfonzo give you a make over.”
“I’ll pass on the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy treatment for now. I think we have more pressing matters to discuss.”
“Fine. Pull up a chair, but can you let Alfonzo back in first?”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because if I wind up with streaks in my hair, you aren’t going to live long enough to let a Sasquatch kill you.”
The Dude with the Crazy Eyes
I don’t know why I ever bother talking to Sally. It almost never makes me feel better. Well OK, the sight of her cleavage often makes me feel better, but it’s superficial compared to the pounding migraines I usually end up with.
Case in point, as the coven’s newest recruit continued to minister to her hair - with more care than I’ve seen parents show to a newborn - Sally blithely told me about how she pretty much knew everything I had come over to talk about. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised.
“You know about the special envoy they’re sending?”
“Of course,” she replied. “I keep tabs with Boston.”
“And you didn’t tell me because...”
“As I said, I’ve been stressed. It slipped my mind.”
“Well, did you know we’re going to be having company, as in company that just so happens to use magic and wants me dead?”
“Yep, heard that too. Pity they’re going to be under a flag of truce, otherwise I’d say it’d be a good opportunity to make them disappear.” She said this last part conversationally, her eyes closing as Alfonzo continued to work her scalp. “Oh, and before you ask, yes I know that your roommates are coming too.”
“Boston knows about that?” I asked. Were the assholes spying on me now?
“No, but let’s face facts, they follow you everywhere. It’s like you live with two lost puppies. Speaking of which, remind Ed to bring his shotgun...just to be on the safe side.”
“I’ll remind him to bring a box of condoms and some penicillin too...just to be on the safe side.”
She sniffed at the dig. Some months back, Ed had asked Sally out. She had agreed, much to my surprise. They hadn’t gone on a second date, but I suspected that had a little to do with the fact that I completely freaked out upon learning of the first one. Since then, they had both asked about each other a few times, leading me to believe there was probably some unfinished business between them. Truth be told, I wasn’t jealous of them developing a relationship. Well OK, I wasn’t that jealous. Don’t get me wrong. If given the opportunity, I’d happily bang Sally. You just don’t say “no” to a piece of ass that fine. Nevertheless, I had my sights set elsewhere. I was more against their relationship out of fear for Ed. Sally is the femme fatale that James Bond has nightmares about. If the mood struck her, she could use Ed, break him, and then treat him like a Happy Meal without a second thought.
“Just make sure Tom leaves at least some of his stupidity at home,” she said, changing the subject away from Ed.
“As if that’s even possible,” I replied with a grin.
* * *
I found myself back at the loft on Saturday. Boston had informed Sally that preparations were nearly finished. Our “guest” would be arriving that night to fill us in on the details. As we were also informed that the information we were about to be imparted with was for our ears only (our? I guess knowledge of Sally as my silent partner wasn’t as silent as I thought), we decided to meet at the loft. It was easy enough to tell the rest of the coven to find somewhere else to be for the night. Sally also didn’t want to meet at the office and run the risk of having to shut down her precious hotline. God forbid the city be allowed one night where its people weren’t being harvested like cattle.
I arrived early and had to listen to Sally go on and on about the fabulous job Alfonzo had done on her hair. Truth be told, the changes were subtle - some layering and a little extra body added (did I actually just think that?). That being said, some people pull off subtle far better than others do. Sally is one of them; however, letting her know that wouldn’t be any fun.
“So what did he do?” I asked innocently. “Clean out any excess lice and rat droppings?”
A few minutes later, Sally was distracted from trying to break into the bathroom - where I was hiding - to answer the door. Saved by the bell. And
yes, it was totally worth it.
As she disengaged the multiple heavy-duty locks (we had upped security a bit ever since the Khan’s buddies paid us a visit), I slipped out and assumed a casual position on the couch. I was fairly sure the elder vampires already had a relatively low opinion of me. I saw no reason to exacerbate it further by letting them see Sally and me acting like ten-year-olds.
She slipped me a sour smile and then opened the door. While she did so, I indulged in a little fantasy involving a sword swinging through the open doorway and decapitating her before she had a chance to make even a single snarky remark.
Alas, no such luck on that happening. Instead, a voice said, “Hello, my name is Alex. I believe you are expecting me.” (*sigh* what is it with the formality? Do vampires above a certain age become allergic to contractions?)
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