by Bea Biddle
eight.
Cef had been stalking the streets. It was midday. His long coat hung loosely on his shoulders and his beanie was pulled so far down it almost covered his eyes. He still hadn't shaved, hadn't showered or even changed his pants. Not since she had been there. He had slept awkwardly, on the edge of his bed, subconsciously making sure not to disturb the dent in the mattress and duvets that Karen had been sitting in. He didn't know why, but he couldn't make himself touch it. Hadn't been able to for two days. He had tried painting to clear his head. His fingers were shaking with anger or frustration, or some third emotion he couldn't place anywhere, making it impossible.
Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he marched on down the street. He couldn't afford to have Karen on his mind. He should be alert, he should be ready. A rift had opened somewhere. They were coming for him. But first things first, he needed to make sure the stones were safe. If his theory was correct and the rift was unstable, then they would be looking to open it up completely.
Walking down Fifth Avenue, Cef made it to Washington Square Park and crossed the street. Between two big bulky buildings, a tiny burger joint had been squeezed in. Old and dirty, a cockroach crawled out of the half-opened door, scurrying across the pavement and into the gutter. He stepped over the threshold. The light flickered, flies buzzed around his head. An old man at the counter looked up from his newspaper and greeted Cef in a toothless grin.
"What'll it be today?" he asked and spat on the floor.
"Access," Cef answered.
"Now, now, Demon, you know I can't just let you in." The man scratched his armpit, his hairy stomach bounced as he laughed, hairs stuck out awkwardly through the netting in the worn shirt.
Cef huffed in annoyance. "I'll have number twelve, hold the cheese, and a large coke."
"Now we're speaking the same language," the man happily exclaimed, he pressed a button under the table and the shabby door behind him clicked unlocked. "You may proceed."
Cef nodded a thank you and pushed past the man, in through the surprisingly heavy doors. Behind them there was nothing but an empty kitchen, no burgers had been made in there that day, it was spotless and clean. He walked over to the large metallic fridge. Stepped inside and closing the door after him. It was no fridge. The elevator dinged and buzzed as it escorted him down.
He found himself in a long hallway, bare metallic walls as if he was still in the refrigerator. The dull hum of a large fan blowing in fresh air invaded his ears, bright lights almost blinded him from the ceiling. His steps echoed as he walked towards the end. Another man sat on a metal stool there, he too was reading a newspaper. Only this man was dressed in a sharp suit, as black as his slicked-back hair and thick-rimmed glasses. His shirt was a crisp white underneath his purple vest and rolled up to his elbows, his suit jacket folded neatly on his lap. He continued to read as Cef approached him.
"Busy lately?" Cef asked.
"Not at all," the man replied, looking up at Cef over his pages. Cef didn't want to let his relief show, but he had needed to hear that. The man pressed a green button to his right while eying Cef up and down. There was a buzz. "Alyssa's pet Demon is here," the man said. Cef snorted at him but the man didn't move, just plastered a thick smirk on his face in response.
Another buzz. "Send him in. He can wait.”
"Thank you so much," Cef spat with as much sarcasm he could manage when the man didn't bother looking up at him, just pointed Cef to the right and continued to read his paper. The wall slid open, revealing a doorway to another large room and then slid back down again with a loud bang once Cef had stepped through. And then he had been transported to another world. High domed ceiling, decorative wallpaper with gold flowers, landscape paintings, thick brown carpets, leather furniture in the corners, plants spread here and there. Soft music played out of unseen speakers, but the dull hum of the fan still dominated.
There were a few people there being serviced by other employees, he saw others scurrying about, but something as important as Alyssa's vault deserved the attention of Mr. Thomas himself. The people there suddenly found his presence a lot more interesting than that of their own vaults. They stared openly, whispering close together as they twitched their nose at him. His name was never mentioned, he was always just Demon. He was still an outsider, still considered an intruder in their world. Weres and Vamps thought him beneath them, but they had at least learned to respect his strength, his muscle, his efficiency as security. Witches, however, were of a different mind. They were stronger, they could dislike him openly. They called him a pet. Him, Ceftion, a pet? A Demon was no one's pet. How he would love to show them. But instead, he ignored them, he was practically used to it after all the years he had spent on Earth. Besides, letting his temper run away with him there would be disastrous for him.
He didn't have to spend long in the waiting area. Lucky. The soft music playing was getting on his nerves. A short, plump man came hurrying towards him, dabbing his shiny forehead with a small, white handkerchief. He was out of breath, panting heavily. "Good day, Mr. Ceftion." He was bald but had a very impressively sized handlebar mustache. He was dressed in the same sharp suit as the man outside, although the buttons on the purple vest threatened to give any minute. "What brings you here today?" he asked and bowed gracefully albeit hesitantly. Evidently torn between a constant need to please his customers, but also wary of the Demon before him.
Cef had been there before, several times, but only with Alyssa. He started wondering if showing up without her had been such a good idea. The Witches' vaults were almost sacred, intruders like him were frowned upon greatly. And he could feel the heavy disapproval. "Mr. Thomas," Cef greeted him, "I need to see the vault. Alyssa's vault."
"Yes, she did recently send word of permission for Mr. Sevenskins. And yourself, of course," Mr. Thomas eyed Cef suspiciously for a few moments. "Alyssa is not with you?"
"She's held up, other business. I will not be taking anything, I'm merely here to check that everything is in order."
Mr. Thomas spluttered. "I assure you, Mr. Ceftion, nothing will happen here that the owners of the vaults do not know. The mere thought sickens me. The Manhattan Vaults are the most secure vaults in the country, we have Witches stationed at the doors every hour of every day."
"I don't doubt your security," Cef assured him, "I just need to make sure.”
"Very well, follow me." Mr. Thomas led Cef through a large wooden door, down hallway after hallway, passing doors on both sides, until they reached the one they were looking for. Cef saw no numbers on the doors and had always wondered how they knew what doors were what, but he thought better of asking. Mr. Thomas pulled out a thick key and unlocked the door. He pushed it open and stepped back, letting Cef go through. "I will be outside," Mr. Thomas said, bowed again, and shut the door.
The light had turned on as soon as he stepped inside, bathing the room in the same brightness as the rest of the place. The walls were bare in there, metallic, showing his blurred reflection. He stepped up to the large wooden table with the black tablecloth, five large stones rested there. Oval, dark and shiny, about the size of man's head. Cef picked one up. Heavy as always. The thick markings on them made no sense to him, it was not the humans' letters, and it was not from his world. They were unknown symbols. That didn't stop them from being dangerous. He could hear humming, this time not from the fan, but from the stones, from the one in his hand. He didn't want to hear it, had experienced it enough in his lifetime. He placed it back on the table and turned his back to them. Tearing open the door he walked into the hallway, almost giving Mr. Thomas a fright.
"Is everything alright?" he asked expectantly.
"Yes, everything is in order."
Mr. Thomas proudly straightened his back. "This is the most secure vault we have. There will be no problems."
"I hope so, Mr. Thomas," Cef said, "Good day." Cef marched out, the wall slid open as he approached and soon found himself in the hallway with the rude guard again. Cef nodded
at him in passing, not bothering to say goodbye.
But the man called after him, making him stop. "I thought you were the only pet Demon on this side?"
Cef turned, ignoring the derogatory term that always grated his nerves. "I am supposed to be."
"Yesterday a woman with horns was spotted sniffing around Rockefeller Center." He flipped his newspaper around, straightened it, ready to read the back. "I assumed it was one of your kind? With the horns and all?" Snorting, he used both index fingers to show pretend horns on his forehead with a mocking roll of his eyes.
Cef didn't bother sneering at him. He quickly made his escape to the elevator, cursing as it transported him upwards to the surface. Hammering his feet into the pavement he ran along Fifth Avenue, ducking out of the way of businessmen, dodging shoppers and trying not to bulldoze over tourists. He reached his destination. Rockefeller Center. He pushed himself through the crowds. The building loomed above him, casting a cold shadow across the ground. No one noticed him, he was just another person visiting that day. Nothing out of the ordinary. No sign of any Demons. He could smell her though, her presence, she had been there. There was no mistaking that scent. Another Demon. It was fading though, all signs of her. She was long gone, of course.
✽✽✽
Karen groaned. Her head was heavy and felt like it was full of sloshing water. And when she finally convinced her eyes to open, she couldn't see a thing anyway. She remembered drinking red wine, she never drank red wine, why would she drink red wine? She tried sitting up but bumped her head into something hard. Yet soft, like a chair with a cushion on it. She felt the fabric above her, silky and smooth, and realized not only was it above her, but it was also all around her. Even on the silky pillow that her head rested on. She desperately fumbled around in the darkness for a way to escape. A hatch? A door? Where the hell was she? She started to panic, her hangover didn't help. It was as if a thousand knives all stabbed at her forehead at once.
"Help!" She kicked with her legs, it sounded hollow. "Help! Anybody? Help!" she screamed.
The lid creaked open above her. With an amused expression, Sylvester leaned on the side of the coffin on his elbows. "Why didn't you just open the bloody lid?"
"A coffin! I slept in a coffin?" she shrieked. But then instantly grabbed her head as the high-pitched sound made her ears ring. She decided to continue in a whisper. "Why did I sleep in your coffin?" A horrible thought pressed its way in between the knives. "Did we...? Is there any chance we...?"
"I find that question highly offensive," he scoffed. "If we did, you would have remembered. I am nothing if not memorable.”
"Oh," was all Karen could say. Looking down on herself she did see that she was fully clothed. "Why am I in your coffin?"
"You passed out in the diner, I believe you were in the middle of a riveting story about a spider in your shower when the excitement of it just became too much for you." Sylvester's amused expression made Karen blush, she had no memory of that. Leave it to Sylvester to make her so acutely aware of what fool she had made of herself with just a raised eyebrow. "I thought you'd be more comfortable in here."
"It was," Karen admitted, giving the soft pillow a pat and running her fingers along the smooth upholstery. "It was really comfortable, oddly enough. Thank you, Sly." He nodded in acknowledgment of his good deed and she chuckled at him. Something hard was prodding her thigh. She had slept on her phone in her pocket. She pulled it out. Half past four. "Shit!" she grumbled and swung her legs out of the casket. Only she hadn't counted on her legs giving way underneath her immediately and fell flat on her face on the hard ground. She had no energy to pull herself up again and instead groaned pathetically. "Ow," she mumbled, earning her a sharp laugh from Sylvester.
He reached down and yanked her up again. "You need a shower," he told her, then wiggled his nose at her. ”And some sort of breath mint. Wow.”
"I know," Karen agreed, "I can just make it home, shower and change before my shift. Fuck, I need a coffee right now." Just listing what she had to do was making her headache worse. She needed air, she had to get out of there. She grabbed her shoes that had been discarded by the foot of the coffin, her old, dirty converse clashed horribly with the stylish furnishing. She ran to the door, then stopped herself, her socks sliding on the smooth concrete and turned to him. "Your place is really nice," she managed to get out between breaths, motioning to the lavish room around her with her shoes. She darted for the door again but doubled back before she reached it. "It's a little mausoleum looking, but it suits you. It's very nice." With that, she sped through the door. She climbed the stairs on legs that fought her every step of the way as Sylvester's laughter echoed off the bare stone walls in the basement. She burst through the doors to the empty diner, her jacket and bag were still on the counter, and bolted for the door.
The world was spinning and her head throbbing. It was a struggle trying to run to the entrance while attempting to put her shoes on. She made it, only falling a couple of times, but before she could turn the doorknob the door was torn open from the other side.
"You!" Karen yelled a little too loud at Cef, then cringed at the impact of her own voice, forcing her to continue in a whisper, "What are you doing here?"
Cef was as surprised as she was and took a moment to recover. "I just- I needed to-" he tried but she cut him off.
"I have nothing to say to you!" she yelled and ran past him out the door and down the street.
Cef stood for a moment and watched her go, scratching the stubble on his chin. He hadn't expected to see her, in fact, he had tried coming this early in order to avoid her. He still wasn't completely sure why. He decided he would never be able to understand humans' strange behavior, let alone this one's strange behavior, but he did have a pretty good guess as to why he would find a very disheveled Karen at the diner at this hour of the day. "Sly!" he boomed as he slammed the door shut.
Sylvester was still chuckling as he walked out of the kitchen. "Good afternoon, my dear Cef," he greeted him with a wide grin. "Eventful day?"
”I see the human spent the day here?” Cef prodded, his voice kept steady, but the angry pointedness showed too clearly.
Sylvester found that very, very interesting and an impossible opportunity to ignore. He made a show of buttoning his shirt, knowing full well what it looked like, and then calmly began pouring himself a glass of blood as he nodded without looking up at the Demon. He was loving the impatient huffing from Cef. ”She did indeed. What fun we had,” he drawled indifferently, sipping on his glass. ”Excellent vintage,” he commented.
"Not her, Sly. Not the human. Anyone but her." Cef surprised Sylvester with that outburst, but not as much as he surprised himself. After all, the human was nothing to him, supposedly. "She works here," he added pathetically, in an attempt to explain his displeasure and to wipe off the suddenly very pointed look Sylvester was giving him.
"Relax, I didn't touch her," Sylvester said in a laugh. "She doesn't want me.”
Cef snorted to himself and sat down on a stool, absolutely refusing to acknowledge the feeling of extreme relief hearing that brought. It was ridiculous, Sylvester could bed whoever he wanted, it was nothing to Cef. "I suppose the silly human doesn't know what the fuck she wants." And if Karen did want Sylvester? Why should that matter? Just because he had had a weak moment, asking for her permission, and she refused him? That was her own business. But he couldn't deny the deep stab to his male pride at the thought of her preferring the sleek beauty of his friend to his own, rather rustic, appearance.
”She definitely wants someone.” Sylvester eyed him with a crooked grin. ”Have you considered using her name?”
”I use her name all the time,” Cef snapped. That admission made Sylvester raise his eyebrow at him and Cef instantly wanted to punch himself. ”When it suits me,” he corrected himself. Damn. Sylvester could put two and two together faster than any other, he could soon guess just how often Karen ran through his mind.
”Does now suit
?” Sylvester asked innocently, knowing he was playing on nerves but unable to help himself
”Karen-” Cef ground out, his jaw clenched, ”-is just a simple human, like all the rest of them. And as far as she is concerned, I am just someone she works with. Not even a friend.” He could not keep the wistful tone out of his voice and he realized how absurd it was that he wanted to be her friend. He had enjoyed talking with her, he had enjoyed spending time with her. That had never happened before with a human. Sylvester had an easy relationship with her, an easy friendship. Once again, he found himself a little jealous of Sylvester. What was that damn human doing to him? He had to get her out of his system, he could not walk around like this anymore. ”I would rather spend as little time as possible in her company. Why did Alyssa have to hire a human? A damn human, Sly. Why? I want her out of here. I want her gone.”
”Karen tells me she was at your apartment the other night.” Sylvester continued undeterred. ”What could possibly have happened to make you detest her so?”
”I don't want to talk about it.” There it was again, the pang of his male ego being bruised. And Sylvester was drizzling salt in the wound. ”In fact, I don't want to talk of the human anymore either.”
Sylvester laughed at him. "Cef, have you considered perhaps stepping out of your own little stubborn world and joining the rest of us here in the real one?"
"I don't have time for your games, Sly. Where is Alyssa?"
"Not here, she'll be back later."
Cef grunted and abruptly stood up. "Is Pete here? I need a good strong coffee." The kitchen doors flapped closed after he had disappeared through them.
”Well, this is an interesting development, isn't it?” Sylvester asked the empty diner as he stood back and sipped his blood thoughtfully while his face curled into a playful smile.
✽✽✽