by S. L. Wright
“Sure, why not?”
“I’ll tell you why not,” Markman snapped. “Some guy tried to murder you! Then another guy threatened to kill you. Don’t you take that seriously? You could be shot.”
“What else is new?” I retorted. “Maybe you should stick around and get that proof you’re looking for.”
“Someone else could get shot, like your janitor.”
My expression fell. “I’d hate for anyone to get caught in the line of fire again. ...”
Bliss marched up. “Full disclosure—tell everyone it might be dangerous. If they decide to stay, like I did, then it’s not your responsibility.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It would still be my fault.”
“No, it’s not!” Bliss was getting worked up. “Are you going to stay stuck inside forever? Grow up, Allay! You’re not the center of the universe. You’re not responsible for everything. Let people make their own choices. You concentrate on deciding what’s best for you.”
“That hasn’t worked out very well so far.”
Bliss held out her hands. “What’s not to like? I know you—you’re glad you can atone for working for the prophet all those years. He deserves what he’s got coming. Plus you’re out and proud, and you’ve got great friends like me. Not to mention you have a rocking little bar, with lots of eager customers outside.”
I was nodding, feeling lighter by the moment. “When you put it that way ...”
“Do it,” Bliss said softly, coming closer.
I was done with doubts. I had made my choice; now I had to live with it. I wanted nothing more than to run my bar and talk to my patrons, to be honest and not have to do dirty deeds to pay for protection. I had to be exactly who I was, out in the open.
“Okay, I will.”
Bliss stroked my arm, stealing away some of that golden stream of happiness that flooded me for so brief a moment. “I knew that’s what you wanted.”
“You vampire,” I said fondly. Then I took hold of her arm in return, drawing on her energy, soaking up enough to blunt the immediate edge of hunger.
“Same back at you.” She smiled.
Lieutenant Markman cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt you, ladies, but I have to advise you against this.”
“You said you wanted to draw out the perps. This will do it.” I realized Bliss and I were still holding each other from the way he was trying hard not to look at us. She was content to snuggle and continue feeding right in front of him, but I gently disentangled myself. At the very least, he was getting the wrong idea that Bliss and I were a couple.
What we had was even more intimate and deep; she was my offspring. Shock had been wrong about that, as she had been wrong about a lot of things. I was very lucky to have Bliss in my life.
I squeezed her arm as I pulled away. “If you could call the guard company, Lieutenant Markman, I’d appreciate it.”
21
Markman gave way, and worked with me. He had to. My lawyer sent over a notice to be posted on the door stating that the owners of the property took no responsibility for any violence that was out of their direct control. The guards showed up and I carefully searched their auras—there was no sign of deception when I mentioned the prophet and the Fellowship of Truth. They were solid men, and they immediately took control of the flow of patrons into my bar.
I picked out my regulars—the few I saw—and made sure to greet everyone who entered. One girl cried; she had been here the night before, and had seen me die. I spoke to her for a while, leaving the bartending to Bliss.
I barred the press in any form, but I couldn’t stop people from taking pictures with their cell phones. The press of eyes boring inward was unnerving until the bar fairly filled up, and I had to serve drinks along with Bliss to keep up with the demand. We were well into the first hour before I realized, “Where did you get the ice?”
“I fixed the machine. I opened it up and saw that a wire had worked loose.” Bliss hardly glanced at me, pouring the beers. Bartending was hard work when it was busy, and she was doing it with the skill I’d gained over a decade.
But I would never have thought of opening up the ice machine to see what was wrong. “More power to you. Maybe you’re destined to be an engineer when you grow up.”
Bliss laughed, a perfect peal of delight. “I am all grown-up, Allay.” Then she was gone.
When the rush eased off and everyone was seated, nursing their drinks and watching me, I went to talk to my patrons again. They were listening to me; even the ones passing by outside were straining to hear. It kept giving me flashbacks of Plea, preaching to one group or another, saying stirring, inspirational things about the glory of God. But I tried to answer honestly about everything—I did it because I wanted the truth to be known, not a religious lie, not superstition.
They thought it was a big joke, with nervous laughter erupting from every part of the bar at nearly everything I said. They didn’t believe I was a demon. But they wanted to believe. They wanted proof that there was more out there than their eyes could see.
Then a woman held out her arm and said, “Feed from me, then. Let me see how it feels.”
It was unexpected, especially in front of so many people watching and recording the moment for posterity. I hesitated, but it was exactly what I wanted, to be able to feed honestly, freely taking what was offered.
“You won’t feel anything,” I warned her. “I’m only skimming off the excess that your aura sheds.”
I lightly touched her arm, feeling her instant thrill along with a slight shiver of her skin. “Your hand is cold,” she said.
“I’m always that way.” I let go of her.
She grinned, rubbing her arm where I had touched it. “How do I taste?”
“Very good, brave and daring, with a pleasant thrill of fear to top it off. You were really scared, weren’t you?”
“A touch, I think. It’s so strange to think you’re a demon.” But her voice was filled with doubt.
“I’m human, too. I grew up like you did, only I was waylaid before I could finish.” That led to questions about my past and how I was turned. A few of the young men called out snarky comments, trying to make everyone laugh. But mostly they were so fascinated that people began to call from the street asking to be let in.
The guards warned me that some turnover would be helpful, so I asked everyone but my regulars to go. They could stay as long as they liked; this was their bar as much as mine. But a new crop of tourists joined us, and Bliss and I were busy serving drinks once more.
Old Jose showed up at his regular hour, and had not one word to say about the crush that he had to fight his way through. He sat at the bar downing his beer as usual. He had been sitting in that very spot last night when I was shot, but he didn’t ask a single question or act like anything was different tonight.
I was laughing about it with Bliss when there was a commotion by the front door. “I work here!” Lolita drawled, holding out her hand to introduce herself. “I’m Lolita. What’s your name?”
Bemused, the guard was trying to usher her back into the stream and was having no luck, when I arrived to welcome her in with a hug. “Lolita! I told you everything was fine.” I had called this morning while we were prepping the bar. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t say you were opening up, you little brat! You need my help. Saturday is always our big night.” She gestured to the pedestrians shuffling slowly by, all holding out their cell phones to take photos. As if I hadn’t noticed them. “I’m thinking it’ll be a really big night tonight.”
“I’m so glad to see you, Lolita. But . . . I have to warn you.” I felt obligated to gesture to the legal warning posted on the door. “Someone could try to kill me again. Just to prove a point. I’d hate for you to get hurt like Pepe.”
“Yeah, yeah!” She breezed past the guard and me into the bar. “I’d like to see someone try. This time we’ll be ready for ’em. Nice security, by the way,” she added, lo
wering her voice. “What do you know about him?”
I laughed. “Nothing, yet. I’ll leave that to you, Lo.”
I thought she would be stilted or feel awkward around me. Of all of them, Lolita knew in her bones that I was different, that I was demon. But she was far too polite to ask me personal questions. She knew how much I valued my privacy.
“You don’t know how much I appreciate you,” I told Lo. “You’ve backed me up every step of the way. I’ll never forget it.”
Lo pooh-poohed that. “You’re part of my family, Allay. What else does family do?”
I thought of my mom’s wary voice, Kathy’s shrill resentment, Shock’s anger, and couldn’t answer. Lo was my foundation, solid and immovable.
Together, we went back to work, rotating the lookyloos every hour or so. We sold a lot more drinks than usual, so it took all three of us to keep up. There had been no deliveries this week, but since we’d been closed for several days, we had plenty of stock. Still, at the pace we were going, I was wondering how we’d finish out the night. I was going to have to double my orders for next week. Being a demon was good for business.
So I made sure to entertain the crowd by answering questions, glad to see some nod thoughtfully as I spoke about the huge number of myths based on demons. We had always been a part of history, coexisting with humans and working together. A few caught the mystery of it despite their sightseeing spirit. They had come just because they wanted to be a part of something new and different, to see for themselves as YouTube videos hit the Internet and were picked up by the broadcast media. I ended up turning off the television much earlier than usual because it was too surreal to see myself up on the screen talking to people in my bar.
I fed from those who offered, and by the evening, they were lining up to let me touch them. The girls giggled and the guys strained as if trying to feel me drawing their energy out. It was a freak show, yes, in many ways, but it was honest. I was getting what I needed, and they were getting what they needed from me.
Bliss was not so honest. She stroked my customers, stealing away more than I took consensually. But they knew the risk; I warned them that the only way a demon could take their energy was by touch. And it took a demon only ten, maybe fifteen minutes to drain a human of vital energy. So I told them to only let someone touch them that long if they trusted them with their lives.
It made them smile knowingly, even the ones that Bliss was draped over at the time. She nodded right along with them, laughing at my expression. She didn’t touch anyone for very long, so I didn’t protest. Clearly she wasn’t interested in outing herself, so I was very careful to make no sign that she was also a demon. Not even to Lolita, who was again tolerant enough not to ask about my frisky blond friend from California.
But as gratifying as it was to be able to explain to my customers, and to see some of them trying to understand instead of making a joke out of it, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. I kept waiting for demons to come.
I wasn’t quite sure how my rule against no-outing would apply if demons tried to hurt me or my patrons. I still didn’t know when Bliss finally gave me the nod, abruptly serious, telling me that she sensed a demon approaching.
I joined her at the front of the bar, feeling only the first tingles of warning, when she sighed in relief. “It’s Mystify,” she murmured, then returned to fill an order.
I waited at the open windows, smiling back at everyone who was pointing at me, when Mystify drifted into view. He was wearing his elfin urchin persona, and was looking good, relaxed and enjoying himself. He gave me a slight wave as he passed by, bumping and jostling with everyone being funneled past.
I rolled my eyes. He was feeding off them. He trolled along time and again like a grinning shark, making the most of the confusion I had created. I laughed and pointed him out to the guard, giving him a pass if he wanted to come in. For a long time he cruised the sidewalk, charging himself to a nice, bright glow before he finally entered.
He gave me a big hug, ignoring the eyes and cell phones focused on us. He was euphoric from soaking up his favorite emotion. “Allay, how sweet of you. Throwing a party in my honor!”
“Hush,” I warned, wondering if he was drunk on their confusion. He was going to out himself with another word. If that was his choice, fine, but I didn’t want him to stumble into something he’d regret.
Firmly taking his arm, I led him to the storeroom. Through the half-open door, I could see the end of the bar where the nearest patron was a guy deep in a flirtation with a Chinese girl with caramel-streaked hair.
I kept my voice low to ask, “Where is she?”
“Ch—” He stopped as I gestured quickly with my hands to keep him from saying her name.
“She’s”—he pointed downward with his finger, and then he frowned and pointed uptown and down—“to be exact.”
So Cherie was still underground at the condos. “She didn’t follow you up?”
“Nope. She’s happy to be there.”
“Really?” I shuddered to think of her white eyes peering out of her blackened face. “Did we do the right thing?”
“She loves it, Allay. Don’t argue with madness.”
He shifted, putting his arm up on the shelf behind me. We were already close, whispering over our secrets, our faces together.
“Don’t argue,” he murmured. He closed the distance to kiss me.
It startled me, and I drew back. But he held on to my hand, trying to keep me from retreating. “Do I only get a kiss good-bye, not hello?”
His touch sent a spark through my arm, igniting me inside. I couldn’t deny it; he saw the verdant blush of my aura. He could feel it in my trembling hand.
He leaned closer again, to kiss me. I wanted to, but I couldn’t let him. As much as I was attracted to him, I couldn’t pursue this now. Ram loomed between us, an impassable divide. The things Mystify did were a constant reminder that he was Ram’s offspring. It was too weird, too incestuous.
“No, Mystify. I have to sort out things with Ram.”
“Allay, in case nobody told you, demons aren’t monogamous. Ram certainly isn’t. He never has been.”
I remembered Ram promising he would drop his girlfriends. I wondered if he was with one of them now. He could be anywhere, even in my bar, hiding among the patrons I hadn’t touched.
But it was different now; now that I had come out. He was disgusted with me. “Do you think I’m a megalomaniac?”
“You? No, definitely not. Who said that?”
“Ram. He said I had delusions of grandeur, like Hope.”
He looked puzzled.
“Mystify, you, of all people, should know what he’s talking about. You have Ram’s memories. Why does he think I’m like Hope?”
Mystify pulled back. “I wish I could tell you, Allay.”
“Why can’t you?”
“It’s my memories, or rather Ram’s memories. Everything’s fairly clear for the past week—the rest is fuzzy. The things I know about Hope are from memories he recalled when he met you. But it’s vague, little glimpses. Memories are tricky. The things that happen closest to the time of fissioning are the strongest.”
“But you must know something,” I pressed. “Ram said I would sympathize with Hope. It had something to do with why she betrayed him to Bedlam.”
He gave me a sideways look. “You don’t know? Ram killed her offspring. Hope was close to her, sort of like you and Bliss. So she stole the map he made of all the human civilizations in the world and gave it to Bedlam in revenge. Bedlam used it to destroy them.”
“Ram killed her offspring?” I gulped. “That’s awful! Why?”
Mystify shrugged. “Ram always has his reasons when he kills a demon.”
“Then why did he kill Hope?”
“Ram doesn’t think about it—it’s like a big black hole that swallows him up from time to time.” Mystify narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t you ask him?”
“I did, but he turned the subjec
t back on you. He thinks you’re manipulating me, trying to confuse me.”
“Right back at him.” Mystify smiled. “He’s hiding something, from me as well as you, and that’s no small trick.”
I knew I had to confess. “He knows about ...” I gestured downward, imitating him. It took him only a moment to realized who I meant—Cherie. “He hung around watching me all day and figured it out. I’m sorry—”
Mystify titled his head back, letting out a groan. “Allay! You promised.”
“I didn’t mean to. He sees through me like I’m glass.”
He paced back and forth in the narrow storeroom, shaking his head. Ram had something on him now, something that could be used against him. But Mystify didn’t fling that in my face. He took the blow and considered it from all angles.
Finally he said, “Ah, well. What can I do? Ram could tell Dread, but that’s the least of Dread’s worries right now. Is it true you’re cooperating with the DA?”
“Yes, Dread’s about to be indicted for a number of felonies.”
Mystify shook himself, as if he were loosening up after a fight. “I’ll just have to remember you can’t keep secrets from Ram.”
“I’m a very bad liar,” I agreed.
He was preoccupied and distant. As soon as we left the storeroom, he returned to the sidewalk, where he started making his rounds again, giving me little waves the few times our eyes met, concentrating on enjoying himself.
I was getting comfortable again when I felt another demon signature approaching. Maybe I was more attuned to this one, because I met Bliss’s eyes as we both recognized it—Revel. Returning from Uzbekistan.
When he came to the door, I didn’t recognize him. Instead of exposing his Giles Fortunay persona, he was wearing a Euro-trash ensemble complete with bleached blond hair, mirrored sunglasses, and white cargo pants.
“You look like an asshole,” I told him. “Could you be a little more obvious?”
“I figured it would read well on TV, love. I tried calling, but your phone was busy.”
“I had to unplug it.” I would have spent more time on the bar phone than with my patrons if I had tried to keep up.