by Naomi Clark
Grief never gets easier. You just learn to live with it. Learn to say I instead of we, learn to use the past tense where you would have used the present. Kinley’s loss was so recent and raw, I was impressed he could talk about Beckett at all. I wanted to tell him he was doing well, but I didn’t think it would be well-received coming from a dhampir to a vampire.
“Okay,” I said. “Well, it’s a start.” I stretched and yawned, the night catching up to me despite the caffeine. “Can you take me to Obsidian tomorrow night?”
“I guess, if you think it’ll help. Uh.” He gave me a furtive look from under his mop of unwashed hair. “Could I stay here for the rest of the night? Just tonight? Please?”
“No,” I said. Letting a vampire in was one thing. Letting him stay was completely another.
“Please? I won’t be in the way. I just don’t want to go back to the boarding house tonight, not without Beckett there. I can’t.”
He was pleading, giving me amazing puppy dog eyes and making me feel like scum for saying no, but there was just no way.
“The boarding house?” I asked, trying to divert him.
“It’s this place in Eerie Point Mr. Cold owns. It’s okay, I guess, but it’s basic and cold, and I just...without Beckett there...We had our own place, you know, before. But it’s hard to hold down a job and make rental payments when you’re undead,” he ended with an impressive depth of bitterness and sarcasm.
I mentally added the boarding house to my list of things to check-out. A bunch of vampires gathered together like that might make a good ground zero for someone hunting them down.
“I don’t have anywhere daylight-proof,” I said, which was true.
“What about the bus?” he persisted.
I opened my mouth and closed it again, grinding my teeth. The bus wasn’t entirely daylight-proof, but I’d installed blinds on all the windows and there was a black-out curtain between the driver’s cab and the back. I’d lived in it on-and-off for a few years, so I’d made it as comfortable as possible, converting one of the back benches into a narrow bed. It wasn’t perfect, but it was probably good enough...
...And why the hell was I even considering this?
I stared at Kinley, silently tallying all the reasons I should say no and send him on his way. Ultimately, though, there was only one reason: he was a vampire. And that wasn’t his fault.
The list of reasons I should be nice to him was longer. He might be useful. He was a kid who’d just lost the love of his life. His supposed protector abused him. And he really was good at looking forlorn and helpless.
I groaned, tugging on my braid. “Okay, but there are ground rules. You damage anything in there, you pay for it. My neighbors are not food. And this is a one-time thing, okay? Tomorrow night, you find somewhere else to crash.”
He nodded eagerly, relief filling his face. “I promise. I get it. I just sleep during the day anyway. I’m too young to stay awake much past dawn. And no offence, but I’ve seen your neighbors and none of them look that appealing.”
I guess coming from a vampire, that was an insult, but as a half-human, I took it as a compliment. I opened the drawer where I kept all the odds and ends that had no place of their own – matches, an old bread knife, a beer mat from the Alice Rose – and found the bus key. It dangled from a key ring Bea had bought me, shaped like a mermaid. I tossed it to Kinley, who caught it with expert precision.
“If there’s a scratch on that bus, inside or out, when you’re done, I’m going to make you pay for the repairs,” I warned him.
He grinned. “Deal.”
I watched him head out to the bus, a strange weight in my chest that wasn’t exactly unease. “Elijah,” I said, as the crow settled on my shoulder and began preening the end of my braid, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Chapter Fourteen
I slept deeply and still felt exhausted when I woke up. I debated calling in sick again, but eventually dragged myself out of bed. I couldn’t put my life on hold. Mr. Cold’s emergency was not my emergency, and as nice as five thousand dollars in cash was, a steady paycheck was better. I’d really come to appreciate that in the past seven years.
It was another hot, clear day, and as I wheeled my bike round the front of the house, the smell of the sea was an enticing distraction. Unlike my undead cousins, I could plunge headfirst in saltwater and suffer no ill effects. The thought of a dip in the ocean was alluring.
Maybe at the weekend. Maybe I’d have solved my little vampire problem by then.
Speaking of which, I paused by the bus, still a little weirded out by the thought of Kinley asleep in there. He’d made himself incredibly vulnerable to me. As a young vampire, he was compelled to sleep during daylight. Some older vampires did too, but the really old ones could resist the sun’s soporific effects. If I wanted to, I could storm into the bus right now, make as much noise as a marching band, and decapitate Kinley as messily as I liked, and he’d never stir for any of it.
He had to know that, and he had to know what I was, but he’d still begged me to let him stay.
Some emotion I couldn’t name and didn’t want to examine swept through me. Frowning, I leapt on my bike and headed to work. We’d all be happier if I didn’t look too closely, I decided.
IT WAS THURSDAY, WHICH was our weekly staff meeting day at the museum, an event that filled everyone with annoyance except our director. Martin Laurens was of Dutch descent, like the original owner of the museum, and as such felt what I considered to be an unnatural attachment to the place. Staff meetings usually ended up being sermons on the majesty, splendor, and importance of the maritime museum, and how lucky we all were to be here.
Don’t get me wrong, I really do love history, and I loved working at the museum, but I didn’t need a poetic ode to it every week. Normally I sulked my way through the two-hour meetings, keeping my face blank and my mouth shut. Today, I was grateful to have two full hours to zone out in and let my mind drift.
I needed to go back to Chi Lin Garden tonight and see if Ezra or Harmony had any info on the dead vampires’ human servant. I could do that straight after work. If Harmony was still down for the day, Ezra might be around. After that, I’d decided to go to Obsidian. I’d go rouse Kinley if he wasn’t awake and we’d go together.
It might be a dead end, but at least if it was, I could eliminate it. Unless I found out that Hugo and Viviana also died after visits there. And then, well, as Mr. Cold said himself, three times was conspiracy. Three vampires dying after a trip to the same club sounded like case closed to me.
If it was that simple, I’d give Mr. Cold his money back.
I PUT IN A LITTLE OVERTIME, more out of habit than anything else, and left the museum just before seven. It was still light out, but dusk was creeping in, and by the time I reached Chi Lin Garden, Harmony might be awake for the night. I’d rather deal with her than Ezra. I still had the kyanite in my pocket, but the vampire made me less edgy than the telepath. Go figure.
“Hey, Georgia, have a good evening!” Lacey snuck up on me as I was unlocking my bike, smiling broadly. She was dressed even more extravagantly than usual, in a knee-length pale purple pinafore skirt over a black t-shirt with a rabbit skull on it. Knee-high socks and purple sneakers, along with lavender and silver nails and matching make-up suggested a level of care and attention to her appearance that I both admired and found baffling.
“You too,” I said. “You going somewhere?”
“Jumping Dolls are playing in town tonight!” She clasped her hands together at her heart, bouncing on her heels. “You have no idea how excited I am!”
Nothing made me feel like a real thirty-something more than a twenty-something getting excited about music. “Cool, have fun!” I wheeled my bike out of the stand, ready to take off.
“What about you?” she asked. “This is an early night for you. And you left on time the other day, too!” She narrowed her eyes and tapped her lips. “Are you seeing someone, Georgia?”
“You should date! All work and no play...”
“I’m married to the sea,” I said firmly, mounting my bike. “See you tomorrow.”
With only the slightest pang of guilt, I pedaled off before she could reply. I needed to save all my social interaction energy for the vampires.
CHI LIN GARDEN WAS busy again, and there was no sign of either Harmony or Ezra when I arrived. I awkwardly let a waitress take me to the same corner table I’d had last night, and asked her for one of them.
“Miss Guo isn’t here yet, but Mr. Guo might be awake,” she said. “I’ll find out for you.”
“Thanks,” I said, and then, because I was hungry and it felt weird to sit here doing nothing, I ordered a plate of ma po tofu.
The food came before Ezra did. He looked haggard and irate, his hair uncombed and his clothes looking like he’d slept in them more than once. His face was drawn, deep shadows under his eyes.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” I said. I expected some witty comeback, but he just shrugged and stared at me. I guess Harmony hadn’t told him I’d be by.
We sat in uncomfortable silence for a while. I ate, relishing the spicy sauce and silky tofu. I wanted to hurry this up and get on with the night, but it was hard to deny how good the food was.
Eventually, Ezra folded his arms and spoke up. “You didn’t come just for the food.”
“I might next time,” I admitted. “But Harmony told me to come back. She said you’d have information about Hugo and Viviana’s human servant, and maybe any enemies Mr. Cold might have.”
He snorted. “Mr. Cold doesn’t keep his enemies alive. But yeah, I can put you in touch with Saul.” He clicked his fingers at a passing waitress. “Pen? Paper?”
She handed both over and moved on. I scowled, disliking his rudeness toward her.
“You’re the boss here, I guess?” I asked.
“Harmony does all the real work,” he said, scribbling something down in almost illegible handwriting. “I’m just a pretty, human face.”
He sounded sour and resentful as he pushed the paper over to me.
“You two are siblings?” I asked, unable to help my curiosity. I’d never met a vampire/human sibling pair, although there was no real reason why it couldn’t happen.
“You’re good. I can see why Mr. Cold has such faith in you.”
Okay. I dropped it. It wasn’t important, anyway. “If I find anything out, do I come and ask for you or Harmony again?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “Consider us your handlers.”
“Liaison is a better word.”
“Whatever makes you happy, I guess.”
His bad mood didn’t bother me, but it didn’t make me want to hang around, either. I finished my food and shoved the plate away. As I set my cutlery down, I remembered the stiletto.
“I left a knife here last night. Harmony said she’d get it for me.”
“You’ll have to speak to her, then. She’ll probably be up and about in an hour or so. Have dessert. The pumpkin pancakes are a house specialty.” He said it in a dead monotone that hinted at years of reeling off menu options to customers.
“I’ll pass,” I said, digging some cash from my wallet and setting it on the table. “I can get it some other time.”
Ezra just shrugged as I left, but I saw him pocket the cash. He didn’t even look at it, just reached out and scooped it up almost absent-mindedly. I guess if he was the owner, it wasn’t technically stealing, but it made me uncomfortable all the same, especially after how short he’d been with the waitress. Before I left, I went to the little bar at the front of the restaurant and paid up again.
Hopefully the next time I was here, I could deal with Harmony. Ezra made my teeth itch, and not just because he was a telepath now. Harmony might be a vampire, but she seemed like a better human being.
Outside, I did my best to puzzle out Ezra’s awful handwriting. Luckily working in a museum gives you plenty of practice at deciphering other people’s scrawls. He’d written down an address that I thought might be in Franklin’s Quarter, a district of Ridderport near the harbor. A quick search on my phone confirmed that, and I revised my plan for the night.
It made sense to visit Saul before going to Obsidian, as he could tell me straight up if Hugo and Viviana had ever been there. It was only about a thirty-minute bike ride from here, and dealing with one human servant sounded better than hitting a nightclub with a baby vampire. I didn’t have any weapons on me, which did make me pause. It was easy enough to say I wouldn’t need them for a human – I was going to be naturally faster and stronger – but I knew nothing about Saul Taylor, and people who align themselves with vampires tend to be dangerous by default.
Did I waste time going home to grab the Ghost, or did I just take the risk?
I was over-thinking it, I decided, and unlocked my bike. I wasn’t going there to be aggressive, after all. Mr. Cold’s name had to open doors for me, or what the hell was the point of it?
Chapter Fifteen
Not all vampires had or needed human servants. Those who wanted to keep a foot in the mortal world, say for business dealings, found it useful. Some wanted humans to run errands during daylight. I’d known vampires hire ex-military personnel as bodyguards for their lairs, protecting them throughout the day against hunters like me. For some vampires, it was simply a status symbol. If you were wealthy enough to employ a human to be your lackey, you were living a successful, luxurious afterlife.
Without knowing anything about the dearly departed Hugo and Viviana, I had no idea what to expect of Saul, but his address made me think he was a status symbol. Franklin’s Quarter was one of the older parts of Ridderport, a block of houses just five minutes’ walk from the harbor. They were mostly rows of small, ramshackle stone cottages, built with sailors and their families in mind. They were desirable properties now, despite probably being one good storm away from collapse, because of the views of the coastline. If Saul owned a house here, his human servant gig was lucrative.
His cottage was one of the ones closest to the harbor, too. I paused at his door, listening to the waves slap against the fishing boats docked there, inhaling the smell of salt and seaweed. In the darkness, I saw sails silhouetted against the sky, and heard seagulls screaming at each other across the water. It wasn’t exactly a calm or tranquil chorus. The shrieking birds were a loud, discordant sign of life, and I loved them for that when I was being sucked back into the world of the dead.
Shrugging off a sudden jab of melancholy, I rang Saul’s doorbell. There was no answer, so I tried again, knocking as well.
Still nothing. His curtains were drawn, so I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like there were no lights on inside. I muttered a curse, wishing Ezra had given me a phone number as well as the address. I stepped away from the cottage, trying to peer into the upstairs windows without success.
“You’re after Saul?”
I jumped at the voice. A young couple had managed to sneak up on me. The man was unlocking the cottage next door, while the woman watched me with a kind of curious suspicion.
“Yeah, I’m a friend. I was just in the neighborhood and figured I’d call in. It’s been a while.” I gave a casual shrug and what I hoped was a friendly smile.
“I haven’t seen him for a day or so,” she said. “We figured he’d gone on vacation, right, Rob?”
“Yeah, he’s usually coming and going all day and night,” Rob agreed without much interest. “Banging around in his room like a herd of elephants, playing that shitty music.”
“Rob! It’s not that bad.” The woman smiled apologetically at me. “The walls are so thin.”
I nodded understandingly. “I guess I’ll try again next time.” I waved and jogged off around the corner, giving the couple a chance to go inside their own home.
Saul’s cottage was the middle of a row of three, with a shared path running around the back of the buildings giving access to the back yards
. I hesitated only a second before heading for his yard. A noisy neighbor suddenly gone quiet after the suspicious deaths of his masters? That was cause for further investigation in my opinion.
A crumbling, moss-crusted wall a little taller than me ran behind the row of houses, separating the yards from the crooked path. There was another row of cottages directly across the path, so while I was hidden from Saul’s next-door neighbors, someone across the way might still see me clambering over his locked gate. There wasn’t much I could do about that, though, so I levered myself over the gate with some unlady-like grunts and dropped into his yard.
I landed hard, jarring my knees. I straightened up with a wince of pain. I really needed to get back in fighting shape. Maybe I should start joining Bea on her morning runs.
A single streetlight threw a beam of orange across Saul’s yard. It was a small, neat space, paved over and bare of any greenery. I crept up to the back door and tried the handle without much hope. It was locked, but there was a very out-of-place looking garden gnome right by the doorstep. Was Saul Taylor the kind of guy who hid a spare key under the garish garden ornament in his back yard?
Yes, it turned out, he was. Thank heavens for people with lax home security.
I let myself into a dark, still kitchen. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I noticed a stack of unwashed plates and mugs in the sink. The sickening odor of rotting fish hung in the air, and I stepped in something sticky as I crossed the tiled floor. I grimaced, fumbling along the wall for a light switch. It might alert the neighbors, sure, but my instincts told me something was wrong here, and I needed to shed light on it – literally and metaphorically.
I half-expected to find myself standing in a pool of blood but judging from the broken glass glittering under the spotlights, and the half-empty bottle on the sideboard, the liquid underfoot was just vodka.
