by Vance, Ramy
Justin and Egya out of the picture, the biggest guy turned on me, yelling to his cronies, “Get the other bitch!”
“She’s gone,” said the smallest of the three.
“What do you mean, gone?” he said, scanning the diner.
Yeah, what do you mean, “gone”? I scanned the diner too, and sure enough there was not a trace of my good ol’ mom. I guess she wasn’t that different after all … always running away when things got too hot, daughter be damned.
But just when my judgmental rage was reaching full throttle, I heard my mother yell, “Darling—to me!” Then she threw a motherfreaking meat cleaver at the guy closest to me.
She was in the kitchen, hand reached out in my direction. I didn’t need to be told twice. Miracles happen every day—why gawk at one when it’s handed to you? I jumped to my feet, over the counter and through the window where my mother’s arms were there to help me through.
Once I was inside, she threw something I didn’t quite see, followed by a bottle of whisky stuffed with a cloth already on fire. The thing exploded like a fireball, creating a pool of fire between us and the three hunters.
“What a waste of whisky,” she said. “This way.”
“What about Justin?”
“He’s already outside.”
“And Egya?”
She groaned in frustration and grabbed my wrist. “I see your habit of always doubting your mother hasn’t changed,” she groaned as she pulled out back.
Outside, I saw Egya grinning in the driver’s seat of Justin’s Mustang, Justin in the back, clearly dazed from the attack.
He looked at me with glazed eyes. “What the—?”
“Your mother is one fast-thinking lady,” Egya said, leaning over and opening the passenger’s side door. “She threw me the keys just before she threw the Molotov cocktail.”
So that was what she threw. Keys. I had to admit—kind of badass.
“Come on, girl. We gotta ride!”
I jumped into the backseat, my mother the passenger seat.
Once inside, Egya cried out, “Shadowfax—show me the meaning of haste!” and slammed on the accelerator.
What a dork.
Mustangs, Confused Boyfriends and Laughing Hyenas
Egya drove the Mustang away from the diner and it took all of seven seconds for the guy who understood the least about what was going on to break the silence.
“What the friggin’ … effing … fuck was that?” Justin cried out, his eyes wide with fear.
“Language, dear, I am your elder—and from the way you two look at each other, a potential mother-in-law.”
At this Justin blushed, before repeating in a far more controlled tone, “What just, erm … happened?”
“We were attacked, dear.”
“Mother, stop calling him ‘dear,’ ” I said.
“Your wish is my command, darling.” She turned back to Justin. “Honey, those men were—”
“They were after money or something—they clearly were after something,” I cut in. “Just your average, everyday robber.”
Smooth, girl, real smooth!
My mother was no idiot. She got it immediately that I didn’t want my three-hundred-year-old secret out of the bag—the secret that I had major daddy issues. She gave me a sly wink and said, “The way they move, I suspect they were there to shut Mama’s down.”
“Mama’s?”
“Yes, honey—isn’t that the name of the diner? Clearly whoever owns Mama’s is connected.”
“Connected?” Justin repeated, his voice skeptical.
“I’ve seen it before. Mob flair-ups—fights, going to the mattresses, that kind of stuff.”
“And you’ve seen it before?” Justin asked.
Sure, on The Wire, Sopranos, The Godfather, all the classics, I thought.
Egya howled at this, but both Justin and my mother gave me a blank look.
“Darling, I know things. I’ve told you before. I am employed by—”
“Mother …” I said in a warning tone.
“My point is, I know things, and that had mafia beef written all over it.” The way she said beef sounded so unnatural it was like a fish trying to roar out of water.
“But it doesn’t make sense. For one thing, they came right at you,” Justin said, looking at me. “And they were wearing your mask, and—”
My eyes widened at this and Justin immediately took the hint, shutting up—but it was too late. Shit.
A few weeks ago the dorms were attacked by a fanatical human who thought that if she sacrificed enough students and spilled enough innocent blood, she could please the gods enough into coming back. Egya, Deirdre, the Avatar of Truth—Mergen, sweet guy—and myself had successfully fought her off.
And I had been wearing my father’s Cherub mask when doing so.
Almost no one knew about that except Justin, who had seen me put it on. And now he was blabbing about that in front of the absolute last person I wanted to know what had happened.
My mother had clearly heard him, and in a dry, humorless tone, she said, “Moonlighting as your father, I see.”
I tried to ignore the comment, but knowing how my blemish-free cheeks work, I was sure I had turned bright pink. “Never mind that now,” I mumbled.
Mention of my father confused the others. Justin’s eyes met mine, open wide in confusion, and I tried my best to mentally project that I would tell him everything when we were alone. Promise.
He projected back that I better.
I had hoped I’d be able to keep my secret from him a bit longer—like sixty or seventy years. You know, death-bed confessions and all. But that was a luxury I could no longer hope for. Not if I wanted to keep him. Now I could only hope that when I did tell him, he’d still want to be with me.
“We should call the police,” Justin finally said.
“Already done,” my mother said, wiggling her cellphone.
“What? When?” I asked.
She shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “Sometime between pulling Justin out the back door and setting the place on fire, I believe?”
We fell into an awkward silence that was momentarily broken by Egya saying, “So … anyone still hungry?”
When no one laughed, he grunted and joined us in our uncomfortable hush.
I was painfully aware of Justin’s eyes on me. He wasn’t going to let this “father” stuff rest for long. Boy, did I miss the days when I could hypnotize humans, or I had the strength to simply knock them out. But continuing to keep Justin in the dark was a no-go—neither was dropping him off at home with those Cherub maniacs on the loose.
“Well,” I said, unable to take the quiet anymore, “we can’t just drive around aimlessly. We need somewhere we can think. And talk.”
Egya snapped his fingers and said, giggling, “I have just the place,” as he turned on a winding road that led up the hill.
↔
McGill University and the city that houses it are built on a hill. Well, technically it’s a volcano so dead that even the gods couldn’t get it to burp before they packed up and booked it. At the top of the hill stands a big neon cross that, despite the absence of the god it was built for, the city decided not to turn off. Tax dollars be damned. As a vampire—ex or not—crosses make me nervous, and yet I’d found myself basking under its neon glow more than once. Maybe I secretly figured it was the last place a Divine Cherub would come looking.
“Really? Here?” my mother said as soon as Egya’s destination became clear. Then, believing that Justin and Egya didn’t know that we were ex-vampires (although I could see a dawning realization in her eyes that Egya knew more than he should), she adopted a softer tone. “Love your innovative thinking. Both a safe haven and tourist spot. Bravo.” She was trying to spin as much levity in her tone as she could, but we all could sense the stress in her voice.
Once at the cross, I jumped out of the car and waited impatiently for Justin to get out. The second his feet touched the asphalt, I gra
bbed his hand and pulled him into the brush.
“Darling,” my mother called out, “this is hardly the time for a snog. The Quad’s nowhere near here!”
I know it wasn’t right, her being my mom and all, but I gave her the finger and pulled him deeper into the tree line until I was sure no one could hear us. She’d done worse to me, trust me.
Before I could say anything, he bent down and kissed me. “You OK?” he asked.
That’s Justin—always says the right thing in a shitstorm of wrong.
“I’m OK,” I said. “Are you?”
He kissed me again. “Of course. What else did you expect?”
“I don’t know. For you to be more human. Yelling, maybe a good ‘What the hell is going on?,’ perhaps a ‘What are you keeping from me?’ ”
He nodded. “So … what are you keeping from me?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t or won’t?” He stared at me like he was trying to drown me in his ocean-blue eyes. “I know that you’re not an ordinary girl, Kat, just like I know that was no mafia attack. Those guys wore your mask. They were gunning for you, not the diner. Who are they? Former members of your”—he paused, thinking of the word—“gang? Humph—maybe your mom was right.”
I chuckled. “She’s a fantastic liar … and her lies always have just enough truth to keep you from knowing the truth-truth.”
Justin nodded, but he still looked confused. “And the truth is …?”
“First of all—not a gang, more like a clan. Scottish, remember? Secondly, they’re not the ex-members—I am. Well … sort of. And lastly, I don’t—”
“I know, you don’t want to tell me.”
“I do, just in the right way. It’s so complicated, and in this rushed, intense situation, I’ll say the wrong thing and—”
He kissed me. Hard.
I pulled away. “And you’ll—”
Another kiss.
“—never speak to me again.”
He kissed me again, pausing to say, “Who said anything about speaking?”
↔
I convinced Justin to let Egya, my mother and me speak in private. I could see that he was hurt that Egya was privy to information he wasn’t, but he also understood enough to know that the reason Egya knew more than he did was because we weren’t an item. Justin and I were. And in a strange way, that meant I had to protect him from that information. For now, at least.
So he nodded, getting into the driver’s seat of his car and waiting for us to finish our palaver.
My mother’s laughter broke into my apparently spoken-aloud thoughts. “Palaver, darling? Your speech always gets so archaic when you’re stressed.”
I ignored her dig at me and looked over at Egya who, surprisingly, said nothing. He didn’t even laugh.
“So he knows?” my mother asked.
Egya nodded. “If by he you mean me, and by knows, you mean know that you and your daughter both had fangs once-upon-a-time, then yes.”
“And did you have fangs? Once-upon-a-time?” my mother asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“Indeed, I did. Hyena.” He lifted a hand like he was at an AA meeting.
“Vampire,” my mother said, lifting her hand in the same manner.
When I didn’t lift mine, she said, “You must learn to play more, darling.”
“Divine Cherubs tried to kill us, Mom. Vampire hunters.”
“Exactly—perfect time to laugh. Weren’t those masks silly?”
I closed my eyes tight and counted to three. Out loud. Once calm, I said, “We’re human now. What about the amnesty program?”
“You know what that group was like—they love their oaths and grudges. I suspect that they are of the variety that don’t give a damn about amnesty.”
“They’re not human, that’s for sure.”
Egya and my mother gave me a confused look.
“How do you know?” Egya asked.
I returned their looks with one of my own. “Did you see them? They were far too strong. The big guy threw me like I was a stack of newspapers. No human—no matter how strong or well-trained—could do that so easily.”
“Hate to break it to you, but you barely weigh as much as a stack of newspapers,” Egya said. “Maybe a lightly packed knapsack.”
“First of all, thank you, but we all know that’s not true. I may be light, but I’m not that light. Also, I’m well-trained. I know how to manipulate my body to work against a throw, and he cut through my defenses without exerting anything remotely resembling effort. No, he was an Other—and one that knew what he was doing, too.”
Egya nodded. “If you say so, then it is so.”
Now who’s guilty of archaic speech?
“Tell me, Mother, are they the ‘danger’ you warned me about?”
Egya looked at Charlie. “Danger? I thought you were just visiting, not bringing danger with you.”
“I am visiting,” my mother said in a faux defensive tone. “But can’t a girl do both? And to answer your question, darling, no—these guys are not the danger I was warned about. They are far too unorganized. Laughable, really. You call that danger? The danger I meant comes from a far more formidable foe. One interested in the … you know, what we talked about.”
Egya rolled his eyes. “I think we’re beyond secrets.”
“We are,” I said. “My mother dearest is here because she is looking for—”
“Darling …” she said in a cautioning tone.
“Egya is my friend,” I said. “And someone I trust with my life.”
“Remember what we discussed. The wrong kind of knowing can change a person. Are you absolutely sure he will not change when presented with the possibility of the knowledge I seek?”
“Possibility, knowledge, change … can we play Twenty Questions? I’m an awesome guesser,” Egya said. His tone was mirthful, but his narrowed gaze and pursed lips were not. He wanted answers.
I looked over at Egya, contemplating what my mother said. Would the desire to know where the gods went and why be too great a temptation for Egya to ignore? I wasn’t sure. But then my gaze was drawn to the Mustang in the clearing and the young man who sat patiently for us to finish our palaver. He was sitting there, in the dark literally and metaphorically, and it was killing our relationship.
Enough secrets, I thought, this time in my head, and before my mother could stop me, I said, “She’s looking for an amulet that supposedly knows where the GoneGods are.”
“Ah … I see,” was all Egya said.
↔
If Egya was desperate to possess such knowledge, his words nor expression betrayed it. He simply looked at me and asked skeptically, “You have such a talisman?”
“I don’t … but the Other Studies Library’s museum section just might.”
“I see,” he said. “And those men. With the Cherub masks?”
Mother cut in. “My best guess? Coincidence. They’re hunting me or darling, here. Ships in the night and all that jazz.”
“Ships in the night miss each other—they don’t crash into one another.”
“Is that so, darling? Is that what they’re teaching you at this school? I can never keep up with all these human expressions.”
“You mean your expressions, Mother? Given you are human now?”
She waved a dismissive hand and said, “My point is that, as best I can tell, their attack and my quest are unrelated.”
Egya said, “So … what now?”
But I wasn’t ready to change the subject. “The men. Were they attacking you or me, Mother?”
“Me, darling, me.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
My mother gave me that look she always did when I missed something obvious or was being dense. A look that could send me from zero to sixty on the rage meter in half a second flat. I closed my eyes again and said through gritted teeth, “How, Mother Dearest, dost thou knowest thine claim?”
“Because, darling dearest,” she hissed back,
“they never bothered you until the day I showed up.”
She had a point. GoneGodDammit.
“Swearing, darling.”
“OK—so they’re after you. Then the sooner you leave, the sooner they do too.”
“So endearing how concerned you are for my safety, darling. Just warms a mother’s heart.”
I gave her a blank stare. I wasn’t going to rise to her bait anymore.
“Very well—for the good of all, Mother must leave. That is my cross to bear.” She looked up at the actual cross and put her palms together in pretend reverence.
“So what’s the plan?” Egya asked, his smirk that of a man clearly amused by the theatre he’s watching.
“Divine Cherubs, Other or not, do not hurt civilians,” Mother said. “Justin and you are safe, so darling and I will get the amulet and—”
“I don’t know about that not-hurting-civilians part. They weren’t holding back despite us being with bloodbaits.”
Egya gave me a look. “Bloodbaits?”
“Sorry, nickname. Means non-vampires.”
He nodded, then, when he realized what it implied, his expression seemed torn between laughter and offense.
I turned back to my mother. “So?”
She shook her head, tisk-tisking. “Darling, darling … always looking out for everyone but herself.”
I took a step toward my mother. “If you don’t back the f—”
Egya stepped between us. “Modified plan. You two get the amulet, and I will go with Justin. If we’re safe, then we have nothing to worry about. And if we’re not safe—I might be human, but I haven’t lost all of what I once was.”
The ex-werehyena gave us such a wicked grin, sickly green under the neon glow of a giant cross, that the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
Goodbyes, Amulets
Justin dropped mother and me off at the library, giving my hand a light squeeze in lieu of a kiss goodbye. I wasn’t sure if it was in deference to my mother or a small protest for still being left in the dark. Egya, the cheeky bastard, kissed the back of my mother’s hand. Then he gave me a high-five with such dorky vigor, I couldn’t help but laugh. The two of them rode off into the night, away from us and hopefully toward safety.
