by C. J. Pinard
“I’m sorry, man! I just don’t know when to stop. I was so hungry. You have to teach me these things!”
“I did, when you were first turned. You need practice.” Darius patted both sides of his fade-afro haircut with both hands one last time and turned his tall, dark, skinny form away from the mirror. He slid smoothly onto a plush, red chair and crossed one long leg over the other.
Joshua sat up and rested his arms on his knees. “Is Pascal gonna kill me?”
“Newsflash, dude, you’re already dead. But no, he’s not gonna kill you. Probably just some discipline. That includes me since I’m your sire. God, I hate that stupid word. I wish these old-ass vamps would get with the times,” Darius said. His light-colored eyes reflected against his dark skin and made him look creepier than it should.
“Totally!” Joshua agreed.
“So, history. I’ll tell you what I’ve been taught, the old stories. Then I’ll tell you what I’ve actually witnessed over the years.
“So back in the early 1800s, supposedly this sylph wandered around England and most of Europe for a few years until she was attacked by the wrong vampire. By the way, sylph blood tastes way better than human blood. Anyway, as this vampire was attacking her, a mortal came across the attack, grabbed the nearest tree branch, and stabbed the vamp through the back and ended him, saving the sylph.” Darius let out a small shudder.
“This human, naturally, had no idea who or what this sylph was, or that it was a vampire he had killed. He took her to the local hospital and stayed by her side until he was sure she was okay. He offered to take her back to his home while she recuperated. To his surprise, she was fully healed in less than two days. Then, supposedly, they fell madly in love,” Darius chuckled with a roll of his eyes.
“The sylph, being immortal, did not want her lover to grow any older, so she pled with the Zie and was granted a potion recipe called ‘Enchantment’ that allows mortals to not age, as long as they drink it every five years or so. Nasty tasting shit, from what I’ve heard.”
“Dude, if they want to live forever, why don’t they just become vampires… or shifters?” Joshua asked.
“Immortals have it way better. They are not affected by the sun or the moon, and they don’t have to drink blood. They can live like mortals. They also have other superhuman powers, like strength and speed and other stuff. I guess it’s different for each of them.”
“Wow, that’s freakin’ cool,” Joshua said. “So why do we hate them again?” he inquired, his green eyes wide.
“They protect sylphs and police the Fae world. They get in our way when we need to make money. They seem to think we should follow human laws. They tend to go a little psycho when we rob banks and deal dope and stuff. Prude-asses.”
“Geez, that’s stupid. Why can’t they just let us be? What do they care?” Joshua asked as he flicked his dirty-blonde hair out of his eyes.
Darius let out a harrumph. “Haven’t you heard a word I said? Enchantment! Sylphs are delicious and we’re not allowed to eat them! Plus they have Enchantment, which they are forbidden from giving to vampires. Legend has it, if we drink Enchantment we could walk in the sun, too,” Darius said lazily, checking his fingernails for imperfections.
“Is that true?”
Darius’s eyes snapped up to his. “Nobody knows; it’s just a rumor. But you can bet your ass I’ve made it my mission to find out.”
∞∞∞
Jonathan was sitting behind his desk in his new office, watching them remove the tape from the beveled glass window on the door to his new office. The door read Murphy Architectural Associates. He was grateful for the fresh start. Thomas walked in, holding several tubes of cardboard containing drawings, and dropped them to the floor.
“I love this office. I’m glad we decided to move downtown. Plus it’s so much cheaper than San Francisco.” Thomas sat down in the one remaining chair. He adjusted the suit pants he was wearing so he could sit more comfortably and he pulled his tie out as it got caught on his lap folds.
“Definitely. I’ve been in California for the past seventy years, I was definitely ready for the change,” Jonathan said, lighting up a cigar.
Jonathan had received a promotion of sorts to the head of the Portland Immortals Coven when the last leader, Luke, had died by choice.
“So when’s the next sylph meeting? Have we decided on a meeting place?”
“Saturday, midnight, at the wetlands,” Jonathan replied, blowing a smoke ring into the air. “They didn’t like meeting downtown, they want somewhere cleaner, more secluded.”
“Is Malina coming?” Thomas asked, trying to keep a blank face.
“Yes, and I believe she has reduced herself to the role of delivery sylph because of you. She’s the Zie queen of the Western U.S., she can have anyone deliver the Enchantment; and yet, every time we meet, she always brings it herself. Why do you suppose that is, Tom?” Jonathan teased with a wicked smile, cigar perched between his teeth.
“Oh, quit. There’s nothing between us,” Thomas shot back.
“Yeah, well you can keep denying it, but you two are going to ‘hook up’, as the kids say these days,” Jonathan replied, taking a drag on the cigar.
“I’ve known her forty years, Jonathan. It’s doubtful.”
Suddenly the door to the office burst open and a tall, beautiful woman with glossy black hair and cat-shaped eyes sauntered in.
“What do you want, Sheena? Haven’t you ever heard of knocking? Not that you seem to have been taught any manners,” Jonathan remarked, narrowing his eyes at her.
“Oh now, is that any way to greet a former lover, Johnny?” she purred. He eyed her tall frame, adorned all in black. Ridiculously tight leather pants framed her long legs, and a thin, sheer halter top barely covered her torso. Her black stiletto boots looked largely uncomfortable, he thought. Definitely not winter Portland wear. Her green eyes struck out against her pale skin and shiny hair, which was pulled back tightly into a ponytail.
“Must you dress like a panther? It’s so cliché, woman,” Jonathan remarked, spitting more smoke into the air, but never taking his eyes off of her.
“Well, it is my animal of choice. People just freeze when they see panthers; they’re so rare and gorgeous. It makes it easier to pounce when I’m hungry,” she replied, grinning.
“Oh, brother,” Thomas muttered under his breath.
“You’re an animal. What the hell do you want? I’m busy,” Jonathan asked, annoyed, tapping an ash into a heavy glass ashtray. It was an antique he’d had for decades, and it had doubled as a weapon on more than one occasion.
“You know what I want, but since you won’t give me that, I’ll get down to business,” she winked.
Jonathan rolled his eyes at her.
She continued, “I come at the bidding of Seth. The shapeshifters request your presence at our next meeting on Thursday.”
“Well if it’s at that filthy downtown warehouse you’ve taken over, I’m not coming,” Jonathan remarked.
“Gawd, you’re such a metrosexual. What happened to the alpha male I used to –”
Thomas cut her off curtly. “Sheena, we will be there. Now if you would please leave, Jonathan and I have business to attend to.”
“Fine, Tommy-boy, if you insist.” She ran a long, black-painted fingernail down the length of his arm and then added, “You have my number, right?”
“Get out!” Thomas and Jonathan both screeched in unison.
She grinned wickedly and slunk out, leaving the door open behind her.
“I wonder what those damned shifters want now?” Jonathan asked, almost to himself.
Thomas went to the door and closed it with his foot. “Who knows with them. Could be anything. They probably want to negotiate the Treaty again. They are unpredictable beasts.”
“You can say that again.”
∞∞∞
San Francisco – 1946
Joseph O’Malley had gone into work the day after Thomas had come h
ome with his news about the new job. Being a cop had always made him suspicious, and this definitely did not sound right to him. Still, he wanted it to be true; he knew his son did not have a long career as a bike messenger, nor was he interested in the SFPD. He needed something, but he wanted to make sure this Jonathan Murphy character checked out. He probably shouldn’t have done it, but he couldn’t help himself. Thomas was his only child. Besides, Nell would never stop nagging him about it anyway.
“Hey, Johnson, how’s it hangin’?” Joseph asked with a smirk, not particularly wanting an answer.
“O’Malley, you Irish bastard. I can tell by that shit-eating grin on your face that you want something, so out with it,” Johnson said, taking a long drag off his cigarette.
Richard Johnson (don’t ever call him ‘Dick’) was an Army veteran who had returned from World War II three years prior and sucked on cigarettes to keep his nerves in check. He walked with a limp where he’d been shot in the knee. Detective work helped keep his mind busy, but Joseph had sometimes seen him sneaking pills with his morning coffee. He never asked, figured as a war vet, he didn’t want to know what Richard had seen on the shores of Normandy.
“Guilty as charged,” Joseph said with his prominent Irish brogue, a smile on his lips. “I need you to check out a guy for me. His name is Jonathan Murphy and he works at that huge bank building on Hyde Street.”
Richard narrowed his eyes at Joseph. “Yeah? And what do I get in return? You gonna fix me up with some of that illegal Irish whiskey you been hiding from the missus?”
“You got it. You can have an unopened bottle. I just need anything you got on the guy,” Joseph responded. He knew the last thing Richard needed was alcohol but he didn’t care at this point. He needed information.
“All right, give me a week and I’ll see what I can dig up,” Richard replied, setting his cigarette down and pulling out a pen and notepad while blowing streams of blue smoke out of his nostrils.
∞∞∞
“Thank you for coming, Malina. I just rescued this one from a vamp attack. He was within an inch of his life. He’d either be dead or a bloodsucker by now if I hadn’t intervened,” Jonathan said nervously, still reeling from the night’s events. His suit jacket was torn at the shoulder, the sleeve lying lazily over his arm, and his hair looked like he had raked his fingers through it too many times. There was dirt and grime on his pants, and he was nervously shaking one leg up and down.
Thomas was lying on the sofa in Jonathan’s Hyde Street office, unconscious and bleeding from the back of the head. Jonathan had carried him the six blocks from the site of the attack. The other two assailants had run off after they saw what Jonathan had done to their leader.
“Have any idea who did this to him, exactly?” Malina chimed, her high-pitched voice soothing, despite its somewhat shrill quality. She was lifting Thomas’s head to place a dry towel under it.
“I’m pretty sure it was William. After I knocked him out, I went after the other two thugs as they were running off. Oh – and one was a shifter, I’m sure of it. But they got away. I turned back to remove William’s head but he had gone. If I was a betting man, I would say that won’t be the last time. He’s vicious, yet stupid.”
Just then, Thomas started to stir and groan. He tried to sit up slowly, clearly confused and discombobulated by his strange surroundings.
“Mr. Murphy? What am I doing here?” A sudden dawn of recollection splashed over his face. “Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Those monsters… you… the alley… I… I need to get home, now,” he stammered, trying to get off the sofa.
Jonathan quickly calmed him by placing a hand over his chest, easing him back down. “Thomas, calm down. I will explain everything. But first, drink this.” He handed Thomas a teacup with steaming liquid in it.
Thomas looked speculatively at Jonathan, but sipped the liquid and winced at the awful taste. “What in heaven’s name is this? Tastes like drain cleaner.”
“Are you in the habit of sampling your household chemicals, young man?” Malina teased with a slight offense in her voice.
Thomas whipped his head over, just now realizing someone else was in the room. Then he realized it was a huge mistake to whip his head at all. He groaned in pain and grabbed the back of his head.
“Just drink it, it’s an herbal healing concoction of Eastern origins,” Jonathan tried to soothe, the lie snaking out of his mouth with ease.
Thomas eyed the steaming antique teacup with suspicion but sipped it again anyway. They all sat quietly until he had finished his Enchantment tea. “Wow, I actually feel better. What’s in this? Magic?” he smiled feebly.
“You could say that,” Jonathan answered, looking nervously at Malina. A heavy silence hung in the air until Jonathan spoke again, choosing his words carefully. “Thomas, we need to talk about what happened earlier. There are things of this world that… most people don’t understand.”
“They were vampires, weren’t they?” Thomas said it more than asked. “I thought Bela Lugosi was just acting. Perhaps he’s real.” He was less delirious than before, but still tired. Plus, there was no way he was going to admit to Mr. Murphy or the strange lady that he still read comic books and had seen plenty of vampires in them.
Malina laughed. “This one’s a firecracker, Jonathan. Good choice on keeping him close to us.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not as if I have a choice now, do I?” Jonathan replied, irritated. He turned away from Malina and back to Thomas. “Yes, they were vampires, well two of them were, and I’m sure Bela Lugosi is actually just an actor. The tea we’ve just given you is an actual potion called Enchantment and it’s going to help you live a long, long life. However, the Enchantment comes with a very high price.”
Confused, Thomas asked, “What’s that? I don’t have any money.”
“You have to disappear, Thomas. I’m sorry but you cannot go home, ever again. You must stay here with me, with us. This is Malina, by the way. She’s a sylph.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Thomas,” she smiled and nodded, but kept her hands folded neatly in her lap on top of her purple skirt.
“A what? I must be dreaming; how hard did I hit my head?” he said aloud, rubbing the back of his head.
Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose then glanced at Malina once more. “This isn’t a dream, nor is it a joke. I’m dead serious here, Thomas. No human can live to tell about the Fae world. It’s not safe, so therefore, the Zie council wants to make you an Immortal. One of us.”
“An Immortal? The Fae-what? What are you talking about?” Thomas said, his voice jumping an octave. “I was out on my bike, on my way home, about to enjoy my weekend and catch a show, and now you’re telling me that I have survived a vampire attack, have been given a magic potion which will make me live forever, and now I cannot go home? My parents are going to be sick with worry. I need to leave!” he squeaked out, the panic threatening to boil over.
Malina quickly pulled something else out of her giant purple handbag. She handed it to Jonathan, and with superhuman speed, he injected Thomas in the arm with what Thomas was sure was a syringe. He then blacked out for the second time that night.
Chapter 4
∞∞∞
Portland, Oregon – Present Day
It was a Thursday night, and Seth and Malachi sat inside an old abandoned warehouse in downtown Portland. The warehouse was cold but the temperature didn’t really bother them. Rain thrummed the metal roof, which made a thundering sound inside the warehouse. It was located in the seedy downtown area where no one dare venture at night unless they were looking for trouble. The building showed a lot of wear, but was still useful. Discarded pallets were scattered throughout, and mice and rats were known to be its only inhabitants as of late.
The two shapeshifters were talking about the upcoming meeting with the Immortals.
Malachi leaned his tall, wiry frame forward and brushed a loose strand of dark brown hair from his eyes. “Seth, why are you calling Jon
athan and Thomas here? They have these cool new inventions called cell phones, man. That Jonathan is unstable; have you ever seen him fight, dude?”
“Yes, I know what a cell phone is, smartass, but we need to meet in person. They need to know we mean business,” Seth replied. His reddish hair hung lazily over his brown eyes, and he rarely shaved. He thought it made him look tough, but mostly, he just looked like a grunge-monster, especially since he stood about six-foot-six, whenever he decided to stand upright.
Which wasn’t often.
“They’re never gonna lift their protection off those sylphs, you get that, right? Those little Tinks have something they need,” Malachi said, already bored of the conversation.
“Yes, well they have something we need, too. If you can get your hands on some sylph blood, the vamps pay big time for it. Supposedly it tastes like heaven.” Seth licked his lips and laughed at his own crudeness.
Malachi reminded Seth of something else. “What exactly are we going to talk to them about? You think you can get them to back off? We have that bank job in a week.”
“Thanks for the reminder, Captain Obvious. Yes I think I can get them to back off. I got myself a little trump card,” Seth finished with a wicked smirk.
Just then, they heard the large warehouse door open. Sheena slunk in in her panther form, water dripping off her back and head. She shook like a dog, and Seth and Malachi watched as she quickly morphed back into her human form and just stood there, naked and smiling.
“The Immortals are here,” she simply said, as she wiped rainwater from her forehead.
“Well, did you plan on getting dressed, or were you going for shock value?” asked Seth. He’d seen her routine a million times.
“I think I’ll stay in panther form and keep an eye on the outside of the place while y’all meet.” She winked at him then morphed back into the panther before any of them could blink.