by Aya DeAniege
“He’s going to kill me.”
“No, of course not. Mortals create lots of waves. Lu can’t get very far, especially not tonight. And he won’t get into my place ever, or Council Chambers unless it’s physically. Doing that would leave him vulnerable. You’ll be perfectly safe.”
“I’m sure you thought the same thing a thousand years ago.”
“He can’t project himself anywhere that he can’t see. I watched him get stuck in a wall once, terrible thing, it was. I’ll admit, I snickered. Thankfully he never heard me laugh.”
The food was delivered.
I picked at mine as Quin picked up his fork and sighed. He set the utensil back down and looked up at me, then sighed again.
“You aren’t even going to pantomime?” I asked.
“Consuming anything outside of blood and water slows us down. Our energy goes to digestion then, instead of everything else.”
“Feed vampires into a food coma, got it.”
“We can pantomime, but if you ever want to know if we’re preparing for something bigger, give us food and see if we touch it. If a vampire does not attempt to pantomime the motions, they are saving their energy for something.”
“Earlier tonight you had coffee.”
“No, earlier tonight you glanced at me as I brought a coffee mug to my lips and the pursed them as if I had a sip. You also witnessed me break off biscotti and bring small bits to my lips, but did you once see me pop it into my mouth?”
I struggled to recall for a moment. That was all, then I shrugged.
“Could have been either way. But the waitress is going to be back in about a minute to ask if there’s something wrong with your meal.”
Quin reached over and swapped our plates. He smiled as I gaped at him.
“Rude much?” I asked.
“Now she will ask you, not me. And I am simply the polite diner waiting for you to start your meal before I finish my own.”
“People don’t do that anymore.”
“People you know don’t do that. Those mortals who have dinner with me are polite dinner guests.”
“People who aren’t in the top one percent don’t do that anymore.”
“They do, just like I am now,” he said, smiling as the waitress stepped up to the table.
“How’s everything. You’ve not touched yours, is anything wrong?”
“My stomach’s a little queasy, we were hoping food would calm it down,” I said. “But something on you is making it worse. Like perfume or deodorant.”
“Oh, I am so sorry, pregnant women just hate my deodorant. I’ll pass your table to someone who isn’t wearing one.”
“Thanks,” I said cheerily.
“That was mean,” Quin said.
“Says the rude one who switched our plates,” I said. “Thank goodness we already have our food, or she’d spit in it.”
“If she knows her deodorant annoys pregnant women, why does she continue to wear it, I wonder?” Quin murmured.
“Believes the whole world revolves around her?” I asked.
“I like you,” Quin said with a smile.
“I got that feeling,” I said. “What with not yelling at me, and introducing me to your father, and sister, and niece.”
“Introducing you to Margaret hasn’t technically happened yet. She takes her role as Younger Council very seriously. Outside of her duties, she is a very different person.”
“Still the mad scientist?”
“Her stock are basically lab rats.”
“Okay, since the night is coming to an end, I think it’s safe to say the interview is sort of over. But can I ask some questions that have bothered me along the way?”
“Sure,” Quin said.
“If you knew Lu was the tool’s keeper, why didn’t you tell the Council?”
“Death still creates plagues. His revenge would be terrible. I didn’t know where he was until tonight.”
“Which is...”
“That’s for me to know,” Quin said. “Now I need the tool.”
“And Wraith, and the staff.”
“The staff was more for show,” Quin said. “Lu used to help Death spread the disease by having it on the tool. Anyone who touched it would get infected.”
‘By having it on the tool’ contradicted what he had just told me about the disease creation being a part of the tool’s special magic.
“But you touched the tool.”
“I am uniquely immune to the diseases that Death spreads. Lu brought home many illnesses while I was mortal in the hopes of finding one that affected me. One of the reasons for turning me was to prevent me from passing my immunity on.”
“And you never did tell me why you thought you had been cast out. Was there a reason at all? Because he was bored?”
“No, I was never given a reason. I always just thought that that was the kind of man that Lu was.”
“Tonight, Lu said that it was because you refused to bring children home for him to prey on.”
“That’s not what he told me,” Quin said, then shook his head. “It is true. I refused to play his games anymore. I killed a few he stole as babes to raise up in his twisted home. Earned myself the reputation as a baby killer.”
“Was your baby eating phase just with Lu?”
“I’ve done it a time or two afterward to save them from more pain. If I could get away with breaking their necks instead, I would. I still participated in torture, rape, and general destruction, I should be clear. I know of no vampire whose hands are not covered in blood.
“If you come across one who has claimed not to do those things, they are lying. The guilty conscience does come about eventually, but we are all old enough to have outgrown that phase. We no longer feel bad about what we’ve done.”
“Are you concerned how mortals will take that news?”
“What mortals think is of no consequence to me. Your government surely realizes that vampires are predators. We don’t sparkle. We are not meek. While we have agreed not to kill mortals outside of our stock, that has only arisen because of the ownership of blood banks and the technology that allows blood transfusions.”
“You’ve also agreed not to make more of yourselves.”
“We never agreed to that. The Council forbid procreation to keep mortals from discovering about us. That ban is still in effect. Those who might be permitted to have Progeny have been notified, have been preparing for centuries. There will be more vampires, whether mortals like it or not.”
“Let’s put it another way. If you offered to turn me, I shouldn’t believe you.”
“If I, Quin, offered to turn you, Helen, you should believe it. But if a random vampire offers to turn you—or the hypothetical reader of what surely must be a book by now—you should not believe it at all. They may be trying to get you to become stock. Once you are stock, you are food. Your life is forfeit.”
“You’re on the short list to make a Progeny?”
“I am, yes. I believe I’ve mentioned it before.”
“Right, when you were talking about milking the venom. Can that venom be used on other vampires?”
“Makes us bleed out faster, so yes, it can be used as a weapon.”
“Milking reminded me of Sasha, so I’d like to ask about her and Androgen.”
“That’s their business.”
“Maybe not necessarily about their relationship. It’s just, you said that they were together during the battle and that you might have found your immortal lover. That’s, it’s... gosh, I don’t even know how to word it.”
“You mean to ask, do vampires have an eternal lover that is theirs forever, even if they share the bed of another?”
“Yes, sure, that.”
“The answer to that is yes,” Quin said. “It’s almost like an open marriage. Sasha and Androgen have been together since they met on the battlefield. However, they have been apart and had other lovers. Such as, I’ve been with Androgen.”
“And you slept with S
asha before, or after that?”
“After that.”
“So not at a fertility ritual eight hundred years ago?”
“Correct, who said that?”
“It’s been a long night. I’m just making certain.”
Although, I was certain he had said something about a fertility ritual eight hundred years before the current era. He had said fertility ritual, or something of that sort, and lots of drinking.
Now he was saying something else.
“And you’ve been with two men?”
I asked not because it mattered to me personally, but because it had been bothering me since he had mentioned it. I couldn’t figure out why he would shy away from clearing up that subject.
They had no problem talking and murders and mayhem, yet when it came to sex, they shied away.
“My mute wasn’t male.”
“I meant Death.”
“What?”
“You’ve been with Death and Lu.”
“Oh, right, that wasn’t consensual, though.”
That wasn’t how counting worked.
“But at the beginning of the night, you said that you had only ever had sexual interaction with one full male. Now you’re saying two.”
Quin frowned. “Did I say that?”
“Yes, you did.”
“That was silly of me. A slip of the tongue.”
“A slip of the tongue?” I asked. “Or is there something else you’ve been trying to dance around all night?”
“Whatever do you mean?” He asked.
I looked around the almost empty diner. No one was even close to us. The waiters were all gathered around the kitchen, gossiping loudly.
“I asked you if you’ve been with one or two men.”
“I’ve been with Lu and Death.”
I frowned and shook my head at him. He blinked back at me all innocent, like he didn’t know what I wanted, so I pressed on.
“You still didn’t answer the question.”
“What question? I answered your question.”
“Fine, are Lu and Death the same person?”
Quin pulled out his phone. Pulled out his goddamn phone and put it to his ear. He started speaking another language as he stood and walked away.
Leaving me at the table alone.
I wondered if I had pushed past a line. Then I recalled what had happened at the beginning of the night when I had accidentally toed the line. Quin was straightforward with such things. He would simply state that he didn’t want to talk about it.
He was dancing around this point, avoiding answering the question.
It had been there throughout the night. At first, I had thought he had said one person instead of two out of embarrassment, but it was impossible to deny.
Wraith had almost killed Death, which meant that he had wielded the weapon.
Other vampires had talked about how Lu and Quin were so similar to the pair.
It was even possible that Quin’s flustered reaction at Sasha asking about Wraith wasn’t because he didn’t know where Wraith was, but because he didn’t want to reveal the truth.
I wondered if Sasha knew that she had slept with Quin. And what her reaction would be to hearing that information.
When in the middle of it, with everything going on around me and coming at me so fast, I hadn’t had the time to really think about it. I had thought it on and off throughout the night, but like a cat chasing a laser light, I’d get distracted the moment it disappeared and a new light appeared.
Okay, so maybe it’s also because I’m a coward.
I didn’t want to ask. I had hoped to lead him to that point and make him admit what I had wanted to ask all night.
That wasn’t going to happen, though, because he had spent centuries keeping secrets. It was more natural for him than breathing.
If I really wanted to know, I had to just come right out and say it. No more dancing around the point, no more questions.
Slap on a backbone, damn it.
I blinked at the plate across from me as Quin sat down. He looked...
Like I knew too much. Only they knew who they were, for a very good reason.
“Are you going to kill me?” I asked.
Quin’s eyebrows rose. The anger was gone almost immediately as he seemed to force himself to relax.
“I am upset because Sasha has received a threat. She’s going into hiding, Lucrecia is coming home. That’s the good news.”
“You still didn’t answer the question!”
“Which one?” he asked.
“Are you going to kill me?”
“For what?” Quin asked.
“For figuring out that you’re Wraith.”
All emotion drained from Quin’s face. He motioned to the tablet.
“I’m going to request that you turn that off.”
Afraid, yet excited, about what was about to happen, I turned the tablet off.
Preview of:
I sat at the window of Quin’s loft apartment, looking out over the street below as the sun began to set behind the tallest of the buildings. There was a blue coffee mug in my hands as I watched the evening shoppers go about their errands through the swirling clouds of orange and brown leaves.
As I had slept, autumn had taken full hold over the city. The wind in the fall and winter could be bitter, but that had never stopped me from thinking the landscape beautiful.
Check for rambling, no one wants to read that.
From my viewpoint, I could see graffiti on some of the buildings. On a flat wall, just across the street, I could see the faded remains of a painted billboard. A remnant of a time long gone, encouraging me to drink a particular brand of pop.
The city was modernizing, but little things like that remained. Down the street, there was a large sign with removable letters that advertised a clothing store that I was certain didn’t exist any longer.
It was a little like the vampires. They were upgrading their beliefs and culture, but one only needed to view them from a different angle to see that they weren’t quite getting there yet. Relics of their past were still visible in the corners of their society, hidden on the backs of their buildings and in the dusty corners of their minds.
They were creatures of a thousand years previous. Their ideologies and ours in the modern time did not align.
Quin didn’t have the newest phone because he wanted the newest and coolest. He had the latest phone because he tended to lose them, or drop them down the stairs as he had the night before. His new phone was shattered and all but inoperable despite surviving being thrown across Sasha’s living room.
New phones were coming for both of us. Quin because his was broken, mine because we thought Lu might have done something to it. The new phone would come preprogrammed with numbers and the writing app that I had been using the night before for my extra notes.
I had wanted to say no, but I had just gotten that phone. I had two years on a contract and owed almost four hundred on the device. I couldn’t afford to pay out the cost. If I could have, I would have had a laptop of my own or been able to pay rent.
It was also Quin’s fault that the phone was compromised in the first place. Okay, so it was my dumb fault for handing Lu my phone. Who would have thought a six thousand-year-old vampire would know how to hack the newest gadget?
Review logs for approximate age of Lu and replace.
So, I was getting a brand-new phone from the man who I had told not to save me. He had dictated which style and then asked me what colour I wanted.
Did you know, if you’re rich enough, phones will come in pretty well whatever colour you want?
I had asked Quin if he had ever been told about the protective cases. Explaining to a man that old that phones are way too expensive not to go into a case was a little awkward.
We’d both be receiving cases from the brand I suggested because I knew they would survive my kind of clumsiness.
Quin’s response?
“Oh, is that wh
y your phone looks so lumpy?”
“You thought that was stupid of me to say?” Quin asked in the present, startling me out of my narration. “I suppose for one who grows up without privilege, placing a protective case on a phone is simply smart. How long do your phones last?”
“The old one was four years. I only got rid of it because it wouldn’t talk to the network or something? Which is ridiculous because it was clearly talking to the network moments before as I was receiving hate texts from my ex’s wife.”
Quin slipped an arm around me, assuming a position behind me but not pressed close. In his other hand was a mug filled with a dark liquid. I leaned away from the cup, towards my coffee.
The smell of coffee didn’t quite cover the smell of the blood.
Quin kissed the top of my head and pulled away.
“You need to get used to the smell, I always forget. No mortal ever seems to enjoy blood in the morning. Not the ones I would want to be around, anyhow.”
He made a sound and pulled away suddenly. I turned from the window and watched as he seemed to swallow convulsively. A hand pressed against his mouth as I watched him struggle.
He looked a bit like he was trying to swallow a mouth full of boogers.
“Are you going to be all right?” I asked.
He nodded but didn’t answer verbally. With a sip of the blood, he grimaced and turned to me, forcing a smile.
“Is it worse than yesterday?” I asked, motioning to my mouth.
Quin made a sound and nodded, but still didn’t open his mouth. He swallowed several times, then sipped from his mug.
“Could be because we slept in the same bed,” he said.
“I told you that I could take the couch,” I said.
“Only way to wake me is by removing a comfortable body,” Quin said. “I sleep like the dead.”
He meant it literally.
We went to bed at about six in the morning. I fell asleep almost instantly, waking several times as per my usual sleep pattern. Right about noon, Quin went deathly cold, his body went rigid as if rigor mortis had set in. He wasn’t wrapped right around me, thankfully, just pressed against my back. His hand had been tangled in the blankets.
I hadn’t been able to get the blanket back from him.