by L. C. Davis
I had agreed to move, but after some careful deliberation, I had decided against moving in with Nick. It would only make him Locke’s next target and in the end, Locke would get what he wanted. It was just a matter of how many people I allowed to become collateral damage along the way. Mrs. Marrin hadn’t been thrilled to find out I was leaving, but I was month-to-month and I promised I’d keep paying rent until I could move all my things over. The house itself wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined, even if it was a good deal creepier.
The Victorian looked like it had been built hundreds of years earlier with its dark purple shutters, tight, endless corridors and winding staircases, but where it stood in the middle of the woods there had only been a thick copse of trees years earlier. I was sure the spot had some ritual significance other than being conveniently located near a stream and a crossroads--two staple locations for any rural witch--but I wasn’t eager to find out about it.
Now that he’d gotten his way, Locke had been in a downright pleasant mood. I just wasn’t sure if it was truly an improvement. There was something comforting about hating him and he was clingier when he was happy.
Since I was addressing all my personality flaws, I decided to stop leading Dennis on and had arranged to meet him at a coffee house on the outskirts of town that night. It was still a public enough location to make our parting less awkward, but private enough that I could break up with him without drawing any attention. As far as anyone knew, he was already single and there was no reason for anyone to know that was a recent development.
He leaned in to kiss me when he arrived and I returned it awkwardly. I was afraid to meet his eyes because they were always at their bluest when I needed to tell him something he wouldn’t like. “How are you feeling?” I asked, resisting the urge to just get it over with now that I’d finally worked up the guts.
“Much better,” he said, taking the seat across from me. “You know how it is, the busier you are, the more your immune system lets you down.”
“Yeah,” I said with an awkward laugh. Daniel thought he was bad at people, but I was so much worse. “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better. And thanks for meeting me.”
“That is generally what people do when they’re dating, isn’t it?” he asked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “They meet for dates?”
“Right.” I cringed inwardly. If I didn’t do this soon, I was going to end up marrying the guy. The waitress saved me by coming to take our drink orders, but that only bought me a minute.
“So, any word from your lawyer on the hearing?”
“No,” I said, realizing I had all but forgotten about my father’s impending parole. It was good to have other things to worry about in a sense, I just wished I had replaced my old problems with more normal ones instead of bigger ones. “Not since they postponed the hearing. She said that’s probably a good thing.”
“She’s probably right. His lawyers probably found something they think would compromise the hearing if it came out. Or they’re intimidating now that they realize there’s a good chance you’ll show up. Either way…”
“It’s more time he’ll stay behind bars,” I muttered.
“Precisely.”
The waitress returned and once I had my sugary liquid courage in front of me, I decided to go for it. I’d been hoping for a suitable entry point but if I didn’t go now, I knew I’d lose the nerve. Any mention of my father had a way of draining it. “So, I don’t know if you’ve heard around town, but Nick’s aunt found out we’re dating and everyone kind of expects us to attend the gala together.”
“I had heard a few people mention it. I assumed you would be. Going together, I mean.”
“Right.” My smile felt starched. “I was just wondering if you had anyone in mind? I mean, if you’re going.”
“Well, these things are all but mandatory now that I’m on the Town Council,” he said with a sigh. It was a farce. Dennis loved parties more than anyone I’d ever met. Hell, I was pretty sure he loved parties more than he liked me. “I hadn’t thought of anyone in particular, aside from you. Why do you ask?”
I shrugged innocently and only then did I realized just what an incriminating act shrugging was. “I don’t know. I mean, as far as I know, Daniel isn’t going with anyone. I thought maybe it would be a good chance for you two to patch things up.”
Dennis gave me the blank stare I deserved. “Locke told you I was at his place the other night, didn’t he?”
I grimaced. “Okay, yes, but… wait, you’re admitting that?”
“Admitting?” He smiled, propping his chin on his hand like he was thoroughly enjoying watching me unravel. “Whatever do you mean, Holden?”
“I know you’re not human,” I said flatly.
“Is that so?” he asked with casual interest, sipping his latte.
“You barely even blinked when I told you I was a witch. That and I’m dating a Whitaker, remember?”
“I suppose it was only a matter of time before this came up. Truth be told, I’m surprised you didn’t ask me sooner.”
“I’m not great at navigating awkward situations,” I admitted.
“No,” he mused. “I suppose not if your solution to breaking up with me is to try and set me up with Daniel St. James.”
“What? I--I didn’t --”
“It’s alright, Holden,” he said with a pleasant laugh. “You might not be good at dealing with awkward situations, but people like me thrive on them. I’ve known your heart hasn’t been in it for a while, but I’m afraid I enjoy your company so much I haven’t had the compassion to let on. Does that make me a terrible person?”
“No,” I muttered. “It just makes me an asshole.”
“You’re nothing of the kind,” he said, reaching for my hand. There was more affection in the gesture than intimacy and I found myself relaxing with his touch. That was the problem with Dennis. I enjoyed his company so much more when it didn’t have to mean anything. I knew I was the only one who’d attached strings to our arrangement, but during the time we’d been dating, I had forgotten just how easy he was to talk to. Now that the strings were cut, it was so easy to remember.
“I’m sorry, Dennis. I like you so much, but --”
“But I’m not a werewolf and I didn’t imprint on you,” he said with a knowing smile. “It’s alright. I knew I couldn’t compete with Nick Whitaker anyway, and I don’t want you to think I’m heartbroken. Like I said, I simply enjoy your company.”
“I enjoy yours, too. I know I have no right to ask this, and if it’s too weird, I completely understand but...maybe we could try being friends?”
“It’s not strange. Perhaps we’re better off as friends than lovers anyway.”
“There you go again.”
“Pardon?”
“Making me remember why I fell for you in the first place,” I said sheepishly, sipping my coffee.
“Maybe in another life, eh?” he teased. “Maybe if I’d gotten to you before the werewolf.”
“Maybe,” I conceded. “I know it’s still none of my business, but I promise that isn’t the only reason I brought up you going to the gala with Daniel.”
“Why are you so intent on it, anyway?” he asked, curious even though he had every right to be irritated.
I looked down at the table and realized I was halfway through shredding my napkin. “Mostly because I can tell there are still sparks between the two of you and it makes me sad to think there’s so much history wasted because of such an awful misunderstanding,” I admitted. “And a little out of guilt, I guess.”
“Guilt? We weren’t dating that long, Holden…”
“No, not over that. I...well, I can’t get into the details, but Daniel’s in a really bad spot right now and it’s my fault,” I murmured.
“I have a hard time believing that.”
“You wouldn’t if you knew everything that happened. Anyway, he hasn’t been himself at all lately and I’m worried about him.
“He has been a bit
peculiar lately,” Dennis said thoughtfully. “More than usual, at any rate.”
“He and Nick are going through a rough patch and you know how he shuts people out. I just thought maybe he could use a friend, if nothing else. Someone who knows him…”
“Why do you care about him so much? You’ve known him less than a year and you hardly even seem to speak.”
He was giving me that look again. The one that made me feel like I was on a witness stand. Something told me there was an entirely different side of Dennis that was only visible from the other side of that podium. “Like I said, something bad happened to him and I’m responsible.”
“You know if he found out you were soliciting dates for him, he’d be furious.”
“That’s why I was hoping this could stay between us? As friends?” I asked sheepishly.
He sighed. “I’m afraid Daniel’s problems go beyond my ability to solve.”
I was silent for a while, weighing my options before asking, “You know he’s dead, don’t you?”
“I didn’t until his blood nearly killed me.”
“He mentioned you bit him,” I murmured.
“Go on. Ask the question and I’ll give you the answer,” he said with a mischievous air. “It’s good practice.”
“Did you bite me that night at the bar?”
“I did.”
I took a deep breath. Somehow, knowing was less alarming than not knowing. “Am I going to turn into a vampire?”
“Hard to say, but certainly not because I bit you.” He leaned in, his eyes dancing. “I’m not a vampire, for the record. If you want to know what I am, I’m afraid you’ll have to ask your master.”
I winced. I knew that was technically what Locke was, but I still wasn’t used to hearing it out loud.
“Forgive me. I forget that your relationship isn’t quite as...traditional as most.”
So Locke wasn’t lying about being permissive. That was unsettling enough to make me hope I never met another demon. One was more than enough. “Why don’t I remember? Why does Daniel?”
“Unlike most vampires, I only take as much blood as I need to sate my hunger and I erase the memory of the bite afterward. My saliva is laced with an analgesic and my teeth are quite sharp, so most of the time, it isn’t even necessary.”
“No offense, but that kind of sounds like a vampire.”
He just grinned. “In any case, Daniel only remembers I bit him because his blood made me sick before I had the chance to alter his memory.”
“But it wasn’t the first time, was it?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Nick said he thought you bit Daniel the night he saw him at your office.”
He sighed. “Nick really is a Whitaker. He has eyes everywhere.”
“And you both like screwing with people’s heads. I’m not sure you have any room to talk.”
“No, I suppose I don’t. I also suppose you might feel differently about staying friends now.”
I hesitated. “No. I mean, I’m kind of pissed that you bit me without asking, but...whatever you are, you need blood to survive, right?”
“I do.” There was no shortage of self-loathing in his tone.
“But you don’t kill people?”
“No.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slow. “I guess you don’t really have much of a choice. How often do you need to, um, drink?”
“About once a week. I usually go out of town and I try to avoid biting people I know.”
“Why Daniel?”
He pursed his lips. “It’s a habit. I suppose you could say I have a taste for his blood. Before he died, at any rate.”
“Oh. Well, in the future, if you need blood, you can take mine.”
He frowned. “That’s a rather generous offer, Holden. Especially considering you just found out I tampered with your memory.”
“And I’m the reason your favorite tap ran dry,” I muttered. “Consider it a futile attempt at penance to soothe my guilty conscience.”
“Oh, I know all about those. I’m just not sure Nick would appreciate such an arrangement.”
“Nick doesn’t own me.”
“Fair enough. If you’re offering, I suppose I’m not in a position to turn you down.”
“You could always even the score by asking Daniel to the gala…”
“You really have been spending a lot of time around that demon, haven’t you?” He chuckled. “You’re getting good at negotiating, but Daniel loathes these things.”
“I know, but it would get him out of the house.” And away from Locke…
“Alright, Holden. You win. I’ll ask him, but he’s probably just going to slam the door in my face.”
“I’m sure he will, but you know him a lot better than I do. That’s practically his version of foreplay.”
Seven
DANIEL
It was Saturday night and the clinic had been dead all day, since everyone was attending the funeral of Chuck Smith, the former football star who’d made grades seven through twelve my personal hell, so I didn’t feel too bad about taking the opportunity to get some time to myself. It was practically a public service to stay home, since I lacked the necessary social skills to come up with euphemisms for someone who’d wrapped himself around a tree driving ninety with more Jack than blood running through his veins. I’d closed up early, ordered takeout as a matter of habit before I remembered I didn’t actually need to eat anymore and couldn’t taste anything anyway, and decided to reward myself for making it through the week with a night vegging out in front of the TV. I had eaten a few days ago so hopefully this time I’d be able to make it through the game without drifting off and staring at the wall for a few hours. Locke had taken to leaving my “meals” in the refrigerator instead of cajoling me into feeding and it was admittedly a more effective strategy. He’d been busy with Holden ever since the witch had agreed to move in with him and I knew my tentative truce with Nick would crumble if he knew I was the one responsible for Holden’s sudden change of heart.
I still hadn’t apologized, but at least I had the excuse of Holden being busy every time I’d tried to approach him. Carla had roped him into helping her plan the gala that was to be held the following night, according to the invite sitting at the bottom of my trash can. For the first time in years, I was guaranteed a weekend where I could stay in of my own free will without being harassed by anyone, panicked pet owners and flamboyant incubi alike.
Maybe I’d traded in my ticket to Heaven, but watching football and drinking craft beer on the couch in a flannel robe that had been worn to optimal comfort was as close as I was gonna get. I jumped up to answer the door, feeling sprier than usual. Dennis Mills was the delivery boy out of my nightmares, and yet there he was, standing on my doorstep with the Chinese food that was destined to sit in my refrigerator for a week.
“I figured you’d get disbarred eventually, but that’s a pretty steep pay cut, isn’t it?”
“I paid off the delivery,” he said, making no attempt to hide his judgment as he looked me over. “I’d ask if you’re heading to bed early but judging from the smell, I’m going to assume you never actually got dressed.”
I frowned, subtly sniffing the collar of my robe. It had seen better days, but I didn’t even sweat now that I was dead, so I was pretty sure he was just back to his usual habit of trying to get under my skin. “What do you want? I just managed to get the last bit of blood out of my rug.”
“That thing deserved to be burned a long time ago.”
I folded my arms, blocking him in the doorway. Whatever the hell he was, I was bigger and I was reasonably sure I was stronger. “What do you want, Mills?”
“And here I thought we were finally on a first name basis.”
“You wanna give me your real name, sure, I’ll call you by it. Until then, be glad I stick to Mills ‘cuz there’s a hell of a lot worse I could think of.”
“I’m sure there is,” he said with a s
igh, looking down at the bag in his hand. “Can you even eat this garbage?”
I snatched the bag out of his hand. “Until you wanna give me the lowdown on your diet, don’t start judging mine.”
“I was hoping we could talk about what happened that night, actually, but not out here. May I come in?”
I eyed him warily. He’d already been in my apartment once, but if he was a vampire, maybe he had to be let in. He rolled his eyes and stepped past me while I was still trying to figure it out. “I’m afraid it would take more than that to keep me out,” he said, running his finger along the edge of my bookshelf. He grimaced as he rubbed the dust between his thumb and forefinger. “I see the Sandman came to visit before me.”
The door fell shut and I shoved some papers into a drawer to make room on the counter for the food, trying to clean up while he was distracted. Once I realized there was no point, I gave up and settled for blocking his view of the laundry I had abandoned halfway through the sorting process. “What do you want?”
“Like I said, I was hoping we could talk about what happened but now I’m thinking of staging an intervention. You always were a bit of a slob, but it wasn’t this bad the last time I was here.”
“I’ve had an off week, okay? I’ve been running errands for the guy I had to call in to save your life.”
“Demons don’t believe in pro bono work,” he mused.
“You know what Locke is?”
“I make it a point to know about every supernatural creature that comes into this town,” he replied, eyeing the pictures on my mantle. There weren’t many, just a few of my old college buddies, most of whom I’d lost touch with over the years, one of me, Nick and Brent on a “fishing trip” that had mostly consisted of me guilting them into releasing whatever they caught, and one of my parents leaving for a vacation a few years before the accident. My mom was in the same bright yellow dress Remiel’s copy of her had been wearing. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice the picture I always kept face down but could never quite bring myself to get rid of.