by Al K. Line
But she was.
My heart stuttered, my body lost all control, and I found it hard to breathe. This couldn't be happening, no, no, no. Not Vicky. She had children, they'd be alone. She had so many years ahead of her, and she'd be cursing from beyond the veil that she never got to see them grow up to be rulers of the universe and the snub-nosed, much smarter than everyone else, blond gods they were destined to be.
Tears fell, and I couldn't stop them even though there was a gunman somewhere outside. Had they just come for Vicky? I bet they had. Who? Cerberus? The vampires? Someone else?
With blood oozing from the wound, Vicky's head sideways on the table, dead, vacant eyes staring at me, accusing me, I realized for the first time just how much she meant to me. I loved her, truly I did. She'd insinuated herself into my life, my very being, and I couldn't imagine it without her.
"No, I will not accept this," I said, determined. I looked into those dead eyes and I nodded. "I'm coming to get you."
I leapt up, grabbed the bread knife from beside the hacked loaf, and without pausing or thinking about what I was doing, I plunged it straight through my chest, between my ribs, and into my heart.
"I'm gonna regret this," I croaked, before I croaked it.
It really, and I mean really, hurt.
You Die, I Die, We All Die
"Fucking hell, that really hurt. You should sharpen your knives. It felt like stabbing a blunt stick through my heart," I said to Vicky.
"Huh?" Vicky, looking even smaller than usual, dragged her eyes away from the, I guess intimidating to some, towering figure before her and slowly focused on me. "Arthur? What did you say?"
"I said your bread knife needs sharpening. I just stabbed myself with it and it fucking killed. Haha."
"Are we dead? Am I dead? And, er, you what? You killed yourself? Why?"
"To come get you, of course," I said like it was obvious. It was to me, anyway.
"Blimey, bit sinister here, isn't it?" said Wand, who I realized I was clutching in my left hand.
"You get used to it," I grumbled. "Hi." I waved at Death, who was standing motionless, looking awesome as usual. Full black robe, face in shadow, huge fucking scythe, wind blowing the tattered cloth in a suitably menacing way, blah, blah, blah.
"Hell, Arthur. This is, ah, unexpected."
"Good, because I don't plan on staying. Um, hang on, you mean you weren't expecting me?" I knew my name had multiple entries in his ledger, heck, I'd been here often enough, and he always knew I was coming.
"That's what I said. It's one guest at a time, those are the rules."
"You know me, a maverick."
"You know each other!" Vicky shrieked, unable to stop staring at Death.
He stood several feet away from us, the water of the mist-drenched lake lapping at his feet, or I assume there were feet under the cloak. The pebble beach was infinite, the sky was dark and threatening, but it was pretty boring once you got over the shock.
"Yeah. Imaginary Figure of Death, this is Vicky. Vicky, this is—"
"Death," boomed Death. "And I am not imaginary, I am real. Real in the sense that this is how you can deal with dying and passing on."
"On? Where to?" asked Vicky, tugging at her ponytail, looking panicked.
Death shrugged. "To wherever you deserve to go."
"So there is an afterlife? You really are Death?"
"I told you I'd met him," I said, put out that she'd obviously never believed me.
"But I didn't think you meant, um, really met him, like in the flesh."
"There is no flesh, only bone," said Death.
"Okay, we get it," I said, "No need to try to be dramatic. Right, let's get down to business." I knew these things were best done sooner rather than later. Bodies can decompose, dogs get hungry, birds can peck out eyes, all that good stuff. The sooner we got back, the better. I jut hoped I hadn't made one colossal screw up with this, otherwise I'd just ruined a good shirt and an even better body. It was the only one I had, too. Shirt and body.
"You have no business here," said Death. He waved a hand and his desk and chair appeared. The ledger fell from nowhere and landed with a boom on the desk as he walked over and sat. He jabbed his infinite scythe into the pebbles so it didn't topple over, then arranged his cloak.
"Yet here I am." I got a bad feeling as I took Vicky's arm and slowly walked her over to Death. She was dazed, understandably confused, and scared as hell. "Don't worry," I whispered, "I have a plan."
"A cunning one?" she asked, full of hope.
"You bet." I winked.
We stood either side of Death. Vicky swayed, looking pale and generally terrible, nervous as hell, which I got, and I tried to hold back the rising tide of panic as I contemplated being out of lives and having no chance of doing what I'd planned. Or if I could do it no matter how many lives I had left. Was this the worst idea I'd ever had? I'd made some very dubious decisions in my time, but this could be the winner.
Death flipped through the pages, found the right one, ran a bony finger down line after line, then paused. "Here we are. Vicky. Yes, you're here. Gunshot to the head, eh? Nasty."
Vicky put a hand to her forehead but the wound wasn't there. "Is that how I died? Someone shot me?"
"Right through the forehead," I offered, which probably wasn't a good idea. She fainted. I left her there, this would be easier without her.
"What's that asterisk?" I asked, peering over Death's hunched shoulder and squinting at the spidery writing.
"Oi, no peeking. I've warned you about this."
"But what is it?"
"Hmm, this is most unusual. Wait, let me check." Death flicked through to the back of the mighty tome and covered the pages with his arm so I couldn't see, like we were kids taking an exam. He muttered to himself and then moved to where I recalled my entries were. He searched for my name, then muttered again, slammed the book closed, and it whooshed up into the dark sky and was gone.
"I knew it. You aren't in, not for this, so it never happened."
"But it did. It has. I just ran a bloody bread knife through my heart."
"Yes, but it's not in the book. You weren't meant to do it."
"But I did," I protested.
Death shrugged his shoulders, pushed away from the desk, and stood. It all vanished, leaving him standing ten feet away holding his scythe. Wind blew his tattered cloak, but there was no wind.
"What happens now?" I asked. "What was the asterisk?"
"It's for when things don't go according to plan. It means something different will happen, something out of the ordinary."
"And this is ordinary?"
"Is to me. And everyone else. Everyone dies, then they meet me, or one of my like."
"I want to swap," I blurted, panicking about time now. "I want to swap one of my remaining lives, heck, all of them, I don't care, I want to trade for Vicky returning."
"Can't, she's dead."
"Bollocks. I've died loads of times, and returned, so why can't she?"
"Because she has no extra lives. You shouldn't either. It's not how it works. Fae have no place interfering, I've warned them about that." Death sounded genuinely put out, which I guess you would if someone interfered with a business you'd run smoothly since the beginning of time.
"But I have, and I want to swap. Send her back, let her live, and take my extra lives. She had the asterisk, that means there's a chance, that hers isn't a final death. And if I'm not meant to be here, that means this life didn't count." I thought about that, what it meant, then realized I was right. "Aha, it's already happened. I'm not registered to die now, but I have, so that means this death didn't count for me, so it must have counted for Vicky. Right, right?"
"Maybe," mumbled Death.
"So we have a deal?"
"No. It's most irregular. I won't stand for it."
"But you have to," I whined. "I can't let Vicky die, I love her. She's my friend."
"Everyone dies," said Death, not really bothered.
"Not Vicky, and not me. Not now. Come on, you can do this, and you know you can. It's up to you. Plus the book wouldn't lie. You have to send me back, as I'm not dead, and Vicky comes with me. I came to get her, to swap. If my death doesn't count neither does hers."
"Fine, fine," he said, exasperated. "You get to trade, just this once. But be warned, Arthur Salzman, this exchange means there will be an entry for this death of yours. And it could be your last."
"That's what you always say."
"One day, I'll be right."
"Haha, so this isn't the final death?" I said, catching him out on the slip.
"Just fuck off." Death waved his hand, the world went wobbly, pain hit like a slap in the face with a spiked wet tea towel, and I grabbed Vicky hurriedly, wrapped my arms around her, and we both split apart into nothingness.
I don't know what's worse, dying, or having to face life again. Both are pretty shit to be honest.
A Realization
I exploded back to life with a painful gasp followed by a grunt, and maybe a high-pitched scream. For several seconds I didn't know who or where I was, and panic flooded my system as hormones, as shocked as I was about the whole life thing, flushed through my brain, leaving me terrified and aware of how fragile I was. A deep dread of being alone filled me, and I curled up in a ball, legs tucked up, arms wrapped around them, and I cried.
I felt horrible. Nobody loved me, nobody cared, I was useless and I wasn't even a human being, not really. Just lumps of flesh held together by pointlessness. The Hat was absolutely freaked out.
Then reality hit with a vengeance. Everything came flooding back and I shook away the waking nightmare and poked a hand through my shirt. The hole was clean, my skin unblemished, just hairy, and I scowled as I noted the gray. The knife lay beside me on the floor.
Scrambling to my feet in a panic of concern, I grabbed hold of the chair as my legs buckled. Vicky still sat motionless, head against the table, but there was no pool of blood, no sign that she'd bled out. She could have just been sleeping like we both had on many an occasion when exhaustion took over.
By now my heart was beating so fast I half-expected to be meeting Death yet again after it exploded in my chest, but it was merely a combination of worry about Vicky and recuperating after being punctured. I stepped aside, hoping this had worked, unsure if it had, if what happened was real.
All I could think of was Vicky and how my life wouldn't be the same without her. It would be empty, and colder, and okay, a lot quieter, but boy would I miss her. It was a strange feeling, as Vicky annoyed the hell out of me on a scale I'd never imagined possible before we met, but she was also like a ray of perky, always frisky sunshine in my life. Brightening my day even as she addled my brain with her incessant chatter.
She couldn't be dead. I wouldn't allow it.
Gently, I took hold of her head and lifted it off the table, wincing as I expected it to be stuck fast. I couldn't look as I eased her back in the chair until she was sitting slumped with her head lolling back a little.
Then I looked.
There was no bullet hole, there was just a red mark where her head had hit the table and had been pressed for what could have been several seconds or several hours. I checked my watch. Yep, several seconds was all this had taken.
I checked her neck but there was no pulse, and as the seconds ticked by with excruciating slowness I wondered if something had gone wrong.
Then her eyelids fluttered and sprang open, eyes wild, darting left to right. She choked as she took in a huge lungful of air, coughing and spluttering as she banged on her chest like a trainee paramedic who should consider a different career path.
"Easy, just breathe. Focus on your breathing, nothing else."
Vicky turned to me and focused her eyes as fear took hold and she turned bright red. She nodded, eyes panicked, and her chest rose as she tried to suck down air. It was touch and go for a while, but finally she got it under control. Up, down, up, down, rhythmic breathing, me doing the same, her copying what I was doing. We were in sync and soon her color returned to normal. She put a hand to her head, feeling around for the bullet hole, then lowered it and checked her fingers, shocked, frowning as she stared at me, questioning.
"You saved me," she croaked. "You could have died, permanently. You risked everything for me."
"I love you," I said, meaning it like I'd never meant it before. And then, I bent and kissed her, right on the lips, with a sensitivity and passion that surprised me and concerned me deeply. It felt right, it felt normal, and we didn't flinch or break apart in shock or say anything stupid. We lingered, savoring the warmth of each other's lips, feeling the energy, the tension and emotion, the closeness, the way we were connected. As my stomach fluttered, I understood I had deep feelings for this mini-menace from the burbs.
Finally, we broke apart, and she whispered, "I love you too."
Hurriedly, I said, "Here, let me check you over." I made sure she was okay and wasn't hurt from cracking her head, but she seemed fine. Her pulse steadied, although it was a little fast, and she insisted on getting up.
We stood there, facing each other for an awkward moment, then I said, "Sorry about that. The kiss. I was just so relieved you're okay."
Vicky touched her lips as if as confused as me about how it felt. "It's okay, I understand. Arthur, you saved me, you risked so much. Why?"
"Because we're a team, and I'd do anything to protect you. Plus, you'd only haunt me and give me grief, and I'd rather you annoy me in person than from beyond the veil."
Vicky smiled, but she knew as well as I did that my words were a defense-mechanism to cover up something we'd both only realized at that moment. We loved each other. Was it a sexy times, lick your bottom, love? Or a deep friendship where the lines get blurred merely because one is male, the other female? We didn't know, and that's confusing. There had been other times over the years when we'd got into awkward situations and passion had flared, but nothing like this, not as deep and powerful.
"I would, you know? I'd haunt you and talk about the girls and never give you any peace."
"Just like now you mean?"
And with that the spell was broken. We were back being Arthur and Vicky, ace wizard and annoying sidekick.
"What if that had been your final life?"
I shrugged, "If it was my time then it was my time. I'm not scared of dying, just of how you guys would cope with me gone."
"It was very brave, and I owe you everything." Vicky was serious, and I understood, didn't try to brush it off as that would cheapen her gratitude, which wouldn't be right.
"My pleasure. I told you, back last year, that I'd look after you. I don't break promises, ever. I look after those I care about, if I possibly can, even if they get into trouble because they know me."
"It's the life we all chose."
"I know, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. Let's have a coffee, I really need one."
So we made coffee, and we sat at the table, stunned, letting our fragile minds process our resurrection. We avoided the subject of the kiss, like all sensible adults would when confronted with something that should be discussed immediately.
Time for Revenge
I checked out the house and grounds but the gunman was long gone. The staff had seen nothing, which was dodgy as fuck as I knew full well they weren't real gardeners or maintenance guys. They were Ivan's men, here to protect Vicky. Piss poor job of it they'd done.
Sure there'd be no more attempts on Vicky's life, and getting concerned about my own safety, I called George and told her a version of the story, that someone had tried to kill Vicky. She promised to remain vigilant and then I arranged to meet her back at Vicky's in the evening. Would they go after George? I hadn't thought they'd be after Vicky, but maybe because of her tech skills they wanted her gone in case she tried to take revenge. What about everyone else involved? I called around, everyone was fine, so I warned them, but that was about all I could do.
&nbs
p; By then it was late morning, I got together a few basics, told Vicky to be careful, and headed out the door.
I drove back into the city, unsure what to do. Everyone had gone quiet, meaning Ivan. No way he wouldn't have been all over this, asking where the goodies were, or calling to give me a bollocking for screwing up.
As if on cue my phone rang, so I pulled over and took the call.
"You set me up."
"Arthur, it's not like that, I promise." Ivan sounded stressed, and he was usually as emotional as a meditating stick. He kept his emotions in check, so much so I often wondered if he'd been emptied of such things by his past degradations. He sounded tired too. The daytime was probably a struggle but I didn't care.
"No," I snapped, "what is it like then? You set me up, all of us, your own sister, man, to raid Cerberus when all the while you'd been watching, waiting for Cerberus to move the goodies so you could go get it while they thought they'd pulled a fast one on us."
My words were rapid-fire, full of scorn. I wanted to reach down the phone and throttle him. Maybe there was an app?
"You tipped off Cerberus, told them the plan, somehow got them to believe it, so you could have me go through this shit. Expendable, right? Just a way for you lot to get Mikalus' damn books."
"I didn't know."
There was silence, he said nothing more, and I didn't speak, just tried to figure out if I could trust him. He'd always been on the level, but he was a powerful man, and he was a vampire, and he had a very scary boss.
"You're a liar. You got us into this, you made me do this, and you knew. You knew it was a fool's errand. Well, guess what, someone just came to Vicky's, and your people there did nothing. She got shot, by a fucking sniper, right through the goddamn brain." Let him think on that for a moment.