Relinquished Hood

by Kendrai Meeks

  “A cat?”

  “Her name is Buttercup.”

  “As in...”

  “Twoo luub,” Igor invoked. A more oddly timed quote of The Princess Bride I had never heard. “I love that movie.”

  Despite holding the same opinion, despite the stressful conditions that had brought us back together, and despite myself, my chest shook with laughter.

  “What?”

  “What?” I asked. “You quote one of the most cultish chick flicks of all time, oh big bad vampire, and you don’t think I’d find that funny?”

  “It’s a good movie. One of the best. I didn’t cease to have human emotions and interests when I became a vampire, Geri. I just became capable of inhuman acts. Vampires are Huey at heart. You have to stop thinking all we do is brood over young virgins and stalk unsuspecting maidens in the dark. What’s the point of having eternal life if you’re never going to live it?”

  “But you don’t, do you?”

  His brow furrowed, pristine fair flesh unmarred by the defused sunlight coming through the WWL-made windows. “Don’t what?”

  “Live forever,” I said. “Vampires aren’t immortal. Not in the way that it counts the most.”

  “No, we’re not.” I respected that he wasn’t going to try to deny it. “Who told you?”

  Should I tell Igor, especially after he’d admitted playing a role in the reason the slayers were supposedly extinct? I wasn’t exactly sure the nature of his relationship with WWL, but I did know the company funded his lab at the university. If he didn’t know of Caleb’s existence, I was sure there was a good reason. On top of that, I owed Caleb’s secrets respect.

  I shook my head and fashioned my lie. “My mother told me something about it once.”

  “And how would your mother... Oh, that’s right. She knows Inga. I suppose that’s not all she knows, then, is it?” His grasp on the wheel tightened. “No, Geri, we’re not technically immortal. It’s not exactly a secret to those who go looking for the knowledge, but it’s not something we share openly.”

  Along with their ages, I recalled from an earlier conversation. Could a reason for that be because a vampire near the end of his days grew weaker, not unlike a Huey? Would knowing an opponent was turning 499 this year put him at a disadvantage?

  The car slowed to a stop as a sign for the West Chicago Animal Shelter came into view. Igor moved the gear shifter to park and turned to grab a pair of sunglasses and a panama hat that really didn’t mesh with his college-prof-on-the-weekends attire.

  “Geri, you’re going to do something for me.”

  I watched him pull his docile cat from the back seat and wondered how a man who could be so gentle with such a tepid creature could turn on a screw to be so cold toward me.

  “And what exactly is that?”

  The cat hissed at me as soon as it got a good view, as if it hadn’t even known I was in the car before.

  “You made a friend recently, Geri. One with a very nice view of the city.”

  Ice shot down my back and drained the color from my cheeks. “I don’t...”

  “Don’t try to deny it. I have friends inside of WWL too.”

  “Fine.” Trying to push back some confidence into my manner, I straightened on the edge of my seat. “What about him?”

  “I need a genetic sample.”

  It sounded too stupid to be real. “What, you want me to just walk up to him and ask to swab his cheek?”

  “You’re a hood of the red line. I’m sure your mother has trained you in a number of tactics needed to get information. You pick the one you think best suited to the situation.”

  “And what are you going to do with it if I do?” I asked, sounding like a petulant kid threatened with grounding if she didn’t her grades up.

  “Do you want me to save your wolf or not?”

  He slammed the door and stooped over, his hunter’s eyes sharpening on me. The hat and angle mostly shielded him from the sun, but a sliver landed across his throat. The spot began to redden, as well as if someone had tagged him with a can of crimson spray paint.

  “I’m not a complete humanitarian. I’d like to think we’re becoming friends, but there are things going on here bigger than just you and me. If you have some information I need, I will get it from you, either through your kindness, or at the cost of it.”

  He knew what my answer would be, and ten minutes later when Tobias emerged wearing a lifted Animal Services uniform and slid into the backseat, I knew I had no choice but to do exactly what Igor Karmarov wanted.

  “Are you okay, Tobias?”

  He looked like he’d been licked up and down by the cat that Igor just threw on the seat beside him.

  He answered in a voice as flat as his expression. “I don’t like being tranquilized. I don’t like it at all.”

  Without saying a word, I reached my hand back over the seat, putting it on his. He gave no indication that it made the slightest difference.

  “Worst part of it was, though,” he continued, “I saw them bring in one of the dogs I walk on my normal route. Dead. Hit by a car.”

  “Oh, Tobias, that’s awful. I’m sorry. Was it an accident?”

  “Accident?” He seemed confused by the term. “No, that’s why it’s so sad. It was suicide. He told me he was going to do it the other day. I didn’t believe him, or maybe I did. But how could I tell her owner that her dog was planning to off itself, and you know because it laid out the detailed plan for you while you walked it on the Navy Pier?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I hovered my employee identification over the reader again, only to get the same result. Total denial. Not entirely surprising. I couldn’t recall anything from orientation or reality suggesting that interns would have access to the executive gym. Even my ID, programmed to let me into most of the offices during the workday, was set up to be invalid from 8 PM to 6 AM. When I’d asked my mailroom supervisor about that, Doug’s matter-of-fact replay had been “to make sure the interns don’t treat the offices as their own personal hook-up lounge.”

  That may have been true at any other company, but at WWL, I suspected that Huey interns were barred overnight for other reasons.

  Finally, on my third useless try, there was a beep. Not because my card had worked, but because the one Caleb extended past me did. He stood behind me, close enough that if I looked over my shoulder, we’d be cheek-to-cheek. As it was, the heat of his proximity made the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.

  Smooth. The guy was smooth. Flirt level: expert. A fact I would need to turn to my advantage to hold up on my end of the bargain with Igor.

  “I believe it’s customary that when a man takes a woman out, he should open the door for her.”

  He rounded me to take the handle of the now-unlocked door, but I got to it first, pulling it open and motioning him inside.

  “Hoods are matriarchal,” I informed him. “You don’t need to worry about Huey expectations. They’re more likely to upset me than flatter me.”

  Unfazed, the slayer stepped into the gym, his eyes never leaving mine. “In that case, I can’t wait to see how you try to flatter me. FYI: I’m a sucker for flowers and chocolates.”

  “I don’t do either one.”

  “Well, then, stretch out and let’s see what you do do.”

  Any qualms I had about us possibly being walked in on by any of the Huey executive passed quickly when Caleb informed me that only residents had access to this gym.

  “Though the other residents don’t really need it, if you catch my drift.”

  “So you’re the only non-vamp living in the residential section?” I asked.

  “I guess if you define ‘living’ as being an animate, thinking being even if also an undead, blood-dependent bug, then yes.”

  Caleb issued me protective gear: gloves, a chest cover, and a head wrap. I had to shake my head when he didn’t provide himself the same. Did he really think he had that much of an advantage over me?

 
; “Doesn’t sound like you have that high of an opinion of them.”

  “I look at a vampire the same way I look at a politician: down, until given a reason to do otherwise. Box as a warm up?”

  The gloves strapped on my hands made dull thuds as I hit them together. “You sure you don’t want to strap something on? I probably hit harder than most girls you’ve fought.”

  “Being as I’ve never fought any girl, I’ll take your word on that.” Caleb walked to the center of the large square mat on which I stood and raised his hands, starting to bounce around. “What about your people? You get along with the wolves?”

  “If by get along you mean do hoods take the role of authoritarian overlords, boxing packs into their lands, and constantly surveilling their movements,” I threw a left jab, which he easily ducked, “then yes. Most wolves are pretty good people. I suppose like any society, it’s got its peaches and its bad apples. My clan keeps the bad ones on a tight leash.”

  He jabbed at me, but I ducked, letting his fist meet air. “You said you’re a red, right?”

  I nodded, landing a fist on his bicep. The blow might have found purchase, but the slayer didn’t so much as flinch.

  “Daughter of the Matron, in fact. They’d be my clan someday, if I hadn’t renounced them.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” I lost a step when a hit landed on my left shoulder, and the gear distributed the force across my upper body. “Is what they say about Little Red Riding Hood true? That her own mother tore her limb from limb with silver blades, and roasted them over a fire?”

  “More or less. Silver something, anyway. The form the matron chose to wield it to eviscerate her, the wolf, and their baby? We don’t know for sure. I’ve heard variations.”

  “Man, you hoods are sadists.”

  I didn’t need the reminder. In fact, hearing it from someone else’s mouth only made me recall how much I hated the legacy with which my namesake had saddled me. Even leaving my clan and my birthright behind as I had, I’d never outlive her reputation among those who knew of our kind.

  “My mother is the queen of the sadists.” A left, a right, another left, and I’d regained my lost ground.

  “Is something she did the reason you need to learn to defend against vampires?”

  His question made me go still. I dropped my arms and stood, petrified. “What?”

  “Come on, Geri. You didn’t ask me to show you defensive moves as part of some damsel-in-distress seduction scheme. And it’s not like the WWL vamps are going to come after you, seeing as there’s now a paper trail that would cause them problems if they did. So I have to wonder, why are you really here?”

  My mouth went dry as I tried to force false words over my tongue. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t ask Caleb to share slayercraft with me under false pretenses.

  “I killed a few vampires not too long ago,” I admitted. “A baby, and its maker. The maker didn’t really care for its baby, but unless I’ve strongly misunderstood your world, makers are valuable. My tracks are pretty well covered, but if anyone ever finds out I was involved....”

  My voice trailed off, and I realized it was because of the total lack of hyperbolic drama in what I’d said. Maybe saying it aloud was the first time I’d allowed myself to acknowledge just how big a danger I’d be in if word ever got back to whoever Cynthia’s friends had been, or any of the other progeny of her crèche. Jesus Criminy, for the first time, I realized I didn’t even know how many vampires that would include. Were vampire makers of the only child, or the Brady Bunch variety?

  Caleb’s mouth hung half way to the floor. “You killed a vampire, all by your lonesome?”

  “Two vampires.” Technically, Tobias had had a hand in killing Donovan, but I didn’t think that kind of detail mattered much. “It was a lucky set of circumstances. Circumstances that would be difficult to reproduce on demand.”

  A pleased smile scraped over his face. “You must realize if the maker’s kin ever track you down, there’s going to be hell to pay. I might as well make the exchange rate work in your favor. Gird your loins, Geri. Let me show you what a slayer can really do. Ready?”

  “Ready for wh—”

  My eyes couldn’t even follow Caleb, he moved so fast. One moment he was before me, and the next, I was on my back and he was looking down at me.

  “Lesson one...”

  With a hard yank and a blur, I was back on my feet, gasping and dizzy. His voice reached from across the room, a distance of thirty feet he had crossed in the time it took me to look around.

  “Slayers are vampires’ balance, and the only way we’d outrun one of them is to be just as fast. And since you’re not one of us, that means that they we – and they – can outrun you too.”

  “If that’s true, then how the hell am I supposed to have a chance?”

  “By using what you can where you are on equal footing,” Caleb said. “That basically leaves two options: your body, or your brain. Also, use their weaknesses against them.”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “Which are?”

  In two blinks, Caleb again stood before me. Like, right before me. If he leaned in, we’d be kissing.

  “Blood,” he said, raising a hand to my neck and tracing a fingertip down the path of my jugular vein. The act left me struggling not to lick my lips. “As fast as they are, as strong as they are, the change they go through when they enter a crèche alters their brain. Like sharks, once they smell blood, it’s almost impossible for them to resist the urge to at least investigate. It will bring them in close. And when they’re as close as I am to you now—” He ran the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip “—and distracted, they are at their weakest.”

  “I can sympathize.”

  Caleb grinned and dropped his hand. “Unfortunately, I’m not a vampire, so your blood – and your proximity – has no effect on me. But, now that I’ve taught you how to bring a vamp into a zone where you might actually stand a chance, let’s practice the short game, huh?”

  Throwing off the act of being able to move so fast it would make the Flash weep, we took turns initiating mock attacks. Caleb still held the advantage; he was older and stronger. Nevertheless, with a lifetime of training, bolstered by my work with Tobias over the last month, I held my own. Caleb only landed two hits, apologizing profusely on each occasion. When he learned I only took his pauses to double my attacks, however, all apologies went out the window.

  After two hours, we decided we’d had enough for the night.

  “Well, I’ll say this: you certainly don’t need much in the way of basic training on my side,” he said. “Now, are we going to get dinner, or do you just want to have drinks?”

  Confused, I stood with the discard boxing gloves in hand. “What?”

  “Didn’t you understand this was a date?”

  “Why would I think it was? You didn’t ask me out.”

  “You asked me out when you asked me to show you how to fight vampires.”

  “That wasn’t me asking you out. That was me asking you how to defend myself against imminent death.”

  “Romances have started in worse ways,” he quipped. Caleb extended and arm and pointed to a set of doors on the far side of the room. “Shower suites. You should find most everything you need inside.”

  “Thanks.” I grabbed the bag of clothes I’d brought and headed toward the door on the right. “But I feel the need to clarify: we’re not starting a romance.”

  “Oh, silly hood, we already have. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

  Among my various superpowers I counted one not unique to hoods, and while convenient, not one worth bragging about: I could get in and out of a shower like a storm blowing through town. It didn’t surprise me, therefore, when I emerged four minutes later to find that Caleb still hadn’t finished. When an opportunity walked up to you and gave you a business card, you took it.

  “Any sample will work,” Igor had told me when handing me the glass specimen tube. “Blood is best, but tha
t might be hard to come by. Saliva could prove a challenge too. But if you get me a few hairs, I can probably do fine with that.”

  “Hair?” I had asked, my face twisted with disgust. “Yuck.”

  “You can try to get a semen sample. It would definitely give me a robust genetic profile, but its collection might be a little demanding on your part.”

  “Hair, it is!”

  Only, how was I going to get his hair? If I crawled around the gym, looking for hair on the mats, I’d have no way of knowing if it was actually Caleb’s. Plus, ew... I could just kiss the guy, using it has a cover for running my hands over his head and yank a few strands in the process. That idea seemed feasible, only kissing Caleb might introduce complexity.

  I crossed my hands, bit my lip, and pondered. The idea struck me with a dull thud. The risk of getting caught? High. The consequences if not discovered: nil. The ease with which I could do it? All the ease.

  The other shower suite proved to be a mirror reflection of the one I had used a few minutes before. An anteroom just beyond the door included a table laid out with individual toiletries —single-use soaps, shampoo, mouthwash— even disposable, pre-pasted toothbrushes. To the left was a second, smaller room, one with just a toilet. Ahead, a frosted glass door fogged over in mist led to a shower area.

  And in the shower, under the spray, Caleb was singing.

  Perhaps I’d become too used to the manners of wolves – both Cody and Tobias were the “pile on the floor” variety of men —and that was why seeing Caleb’s workout clothes neatly arranged on the table in a perfectly folded pile surprised me. I shook out his shirt, and found a few hairs quickly enough. They fell into the specimen bottle, and without any pockets in the pants I’d brought to wear, it went the only place I could think of: inside my bra. Replacing a perfectly rectangular fold to the top of the stack, I was ready to make my escape. My hand was on the handle when the song behind me stopped.

  “Something I can help you with, Geri?”