Life After Humanity

by Gillian St. Kevern

  Diya nodded. “Unless we can convince the committee to accept your humanity, you risk being added to the Final Register.”

  Ben had a sudden suspicion. “And if that happens?”

  Diya’s eyes were sympathetic. “You’ll exist only to yourself.”

  Chapter Four

  “HELLO? BEN?”

  The only response Nate got was a few seconds of dial tone and then he was left looking at his phone screen. He dropped the phone into his pocket and turned to find the dog looking at him.

  “That was Ben.” Nate picked up Aki’s hair dryer. “He’s my boyfriend, but it’s complicated. We’re not dating, but it’s not like we’re on the rocks. It’s just timing.”

  The dog barked.

  “You’re as bad as Aki.” Nate hit the switch of the hair dryer. “Speaking of, don’t worry about him. Yeah he freaked out about you being here, but that’s just who he is. Underneath his ‘I don’t care about anything but me’ front, he’s a really great guy.”

  The dog let his tongue hang out and his eyes roll back. He might have been rolling his eyes, or really enjoying the hot air.

  “You’ll see. As long as you don’t eat his hair gel or sleep on his clothes, you’ll get on great.” Nate ran his fingers over the dog’s fur. When he’d first smuggled the dog inside via the emergency stairs, the dog’s scruffy appearance had made him look disreputable. A bath had revealed that the dog’s fur wasn’t gray, but a fluffy white.

  Nate ran his fingers through the dog’s fur. “You don’t look like any dog I know. Too big to be a shih tzu—or even a poodle. But you’re too skinny to be an English sheepdog…”

  The dog barked and nudged Nate’s hand with his head.

  Nate took the hint and ran his hand over the dog’s smooth head. “I always wanted a dog as a kid,” he said. “A puppy that would be all mine. Twins, you know. We shared everything. But Pa said no. We had chickens and they roamed around the garden. He said a dog would worry them. But when I was ten, I noticed a stray cat hanging round. I started secretly feeding it. Thought I could tame it and make it my pet. Well, it followed me back to the farmhouse, and Pa saw it near the chook house and shot it. And that was the end of me and pets.” Nate sighed.

  The dog stared at him.

  Nate smiled ruefully. “I can see how dog owners get so obsessed with their pets. The way you sit there… It’s like you understand everything I say.”

  The dog let his tongue loll out again.

  “Dunno why you’re looking so pleased with yourself. I did all the work here.” Nate put the hair dryer back on the bathroom counter and surveyed the mess. Most of the water had been soaked up by the towels he’d laid down, but the bathroom looked as though a tornado had ripped through it—or Aki had used it. Nate bundled the towels into the laundry hamper. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

  The dog wolfed down the leftover macaroni in huge bites. “Dog food’s going to have to wait until my next paycheck,” Nate warned him. “Speaking of, I’m going to have to get to work.”

  The dog followed him to the door.

  “We’ll be back late,” Nate said. “Don’t wait up. Just you know. Do whatever things dogs do—but don’t pee on anything. Or eat Aki’s stuff.”

  The dog gave another bark and wagged his tail.

  Nate hoped that was agreement.

  AS NATE APPROACHED Century, he couldn’t help a feeling of anticipation. Yeah, he was looking forward to an evening of cleaning, rather than the club’s risqué entertainment. But the sight of the club always gave him a thrill. Tonight though… Nate grinned. The thrill had nothing to do with Century’s myriad attractions and everything to do with Ben’s phone call.

  He’s never offered to visit me here before. Usually, I have to twist his arm to get him to go out…and he still says no.

  Century started life as an opera house way back when New Camden still had designs on respectability. The building was a baroque masterpiece, with architectural flourishes that made it a landmark, even without containing the most notorious nightclub in all of the city. Century had built a name making prostitution classy, combining elements of a regular nightclub with that of a brothel, and devoting the same amount of lavish spending to both. The result was a venue that was respectable enough to visit while still exciting its clientele.

  The main entrance already had a considerable line of people outside it. Nate ducked down the alley beside the building to the staff entrance. Like all of Century’s escorts, he wore a thin black wristband. Containing GPS, transaction functions, a light to indicate Nate’s availability, and considerable security features, the wristband was developed specifically by Century to protect its staff. Today, Nate simply waved it before the door’s sensors and stepped inside. Cleaning was far from his preferred job, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Nate was really lucky to still be employed by the club at all.

  It did not take long at all to pull the uniform jumpsuit worn by the cleaning staff over his regular clothes. Nate assembled his cleaning gear and glanced at the clock. It was still relatively early. Time to find Aki? He knocked on the dressing room door and walked in.

  Century splurged on clothing and stylists for their escorts, cultivating an allure about them that justified the high prices their services commanded. For the staff, this meant their pick of the latest fashions—a choice that could take fashion-conscious Aki upward of an hour.

  Nate spotted Aki digging into a clothing rack. “They got the new styles in already?”

  “Right? It’s like they want me to be late on the floor.” Aki blinked. “Nate? What are you doing here? It’s supposed to be your night off!”

  “Don’t look so happy to see me.” Nate motioned to his uniform. “They had a cleaner call out sick. I’m filling in.”

  Aki frowned. “But you hate cleaning.”

  “I don’t hate it. And I like getting paid.” Nate hesitated. “Especially now we have a dog to provide for.”

  Aki chewed his lip. “You sure you should be here at all? I hear dogs don’t do well if you leave them alone.”

  “Um.” Of all the things Nate was expecting, concern for the dog was not it. “Are you—okay?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “It’s just that you seem a little—” Nate hesitated.

  “You’ve thrown me off my groove showing up out of the blue.” Aki turned back to the clothing racks.

  “I thought you’d be happier to see me.” And angrier about the dog. “Are you feeling okay?” Nate reached for Aki’s forehead.

  Aki batted his hand away. “I’m a complex person! I’m allowed to have different opinions about things!”

  A static crackle had them both glancing up at the speaker in the dressing room ceiling. “All staff to the floor in five minutes for an important staff meeting.”

  “Thank god.” Aki grabbed a shirt off the rack and ducked into a changing booth. “Let’s go, Nate. Can’t miss a staff meeting.”

  Nate frowned at the closed curtain. Now I know something’s wrong. No one likes staff meetings…

  When they reached the dance floor before the stage, most of the staff was already there, milling around.

  Tybalt smirked, nudging Javier as he spotted Aki and Nate arriving. “So, Nate. What have you got us into this time?”

  Javier counted off on his fingers. “We’ve had vampires, demons… Please tell me you’re not dating the rogue werewolf.”

  Nate frowned at them. “You’re not funny.”

  “This has to be about the werewolf, right?” Aki looked around the club. Security was clustered around the stage. “Why else would security be here?”

  “Everyone’s here.” Nate hesitated. “You think maybe they’re announcing Denise’s replacement?” He’d been the one to discover Denise’s death. The manager was murdered during the necromancer’s attempt at killing Nate. The only flaw in his plan was the fact that Nate hadn’t died.

  Aki winced sympathetically, placing his hand on Nate’s arm.


  “About time,” Tybalt said. “Yeah, she was murdered. Very sad. But Century needs someone in charge who knows what they’re doing. And the interim managers—” He broke off midsentence, eyes widening as he took in the stage.

  Nothing makes Tybalt pause. Nate turned to look—and felt his breath catch. There, exactly as he’d seen her last, if you discounted being a bloodied, dead mess, was Denise.

  The club went very still.

  Denise smiled. “Thank you for giving me your undivided attention—and for your patience with the interim management team. I’m back now, and I’m pleased to announce that things should be back to normal very soon.”

  Aki’s fingers had tightened painfully on Nate’s skin.

  Tybalt leaned in. “You’re sure she was dead?”

  Nate could only nod. He couldn’t take his eyes off the woman on stage.

  Denise wore her signature suit—or a very good copy of it. Her lipstick was her usual rich shade, and there was no mistaking the assurance in her voice—that was all Denise. But how? How is this possible?

  “I am resuming full manager duties from tonight,” Denise continued. “And on that note, we have some precautionary security measures to address. Century made the news for all of the wrong reasons during the necromancer attacks—”

  “She’s talking about her death,” Aki said. “Isn’t she?”

  Denise’s eyes glittered. “And we need to do serious work promoting Century as a safe place for customers.”

  Although there was no way she could have heard them from her position on the stage, Nate felt she was looking right at them. He felt Aki’s nails dig into his skin as he flinched.

  Denise paused a moment to nod to Century’s head of security—looking as pale as everyone else. “To that end and to ensure the safety of our employees, our security team are following the latest briefings from Department Seven and are on the lookout for the rogue werewolf. We’ve also increased our defensive wards and urge all our employees to familiarize themselves again with our emergency procedures.”

  “Emergency procedures—like your dead manager returning to life and holding a staff meeting?” Tybalt muttered.

  “I don’t know,” Nate said. “If anyone’s going to raise from the dead, I’m glad it’s Denise.”

  “The last thing we need is another supernatural in the place. We’re getting overrun—sorry, Nate. But it’s true.” Javier frowned at the stage. “You think she was always this way and now she can’t hide it?”

  “One way to find out.” Tybalt raised his hand.

  “I hardly have to remind you all that Century takes a hard line on illegal supernaturals—yes, Tybalt?”

  Tybalt sneered. “So what exactly are you—” With every word he said, the atmosphere in the club seemed to grow colder. Denise settled a hand on her hip and waited. Nate felt an urge to take a step back. Tybalt swallowed, lowering his hand. “—your plans now you’re back?”

  Denise smiled. “I should be back up to speed in no time. And then it’s back to the business of making sure Century remains the best club in New Camden.” She looked across the silent crowd. “Any other questions, I’ll be in my office.” She gave them a crisp nod before walking off the stage, the security chief hurrying to match her pace.

  Nate suddenly rediscovered breathing. “Wow.”

  “Shit.” Aki’s gaze didn’t relax. “I skipped out on her funeral. You think she knows?”

  “This is Denise.” Javier ran his hand over his face. “She knew everything even before she died. And now—”

  “Now, who knows what she can do?” Tybalt headed toward the bar. “I think we were safer with the fucking werewolf.”

  AT LEAST THERE’S something you can say for cleaning. Nate moved his cart to the next booth. It’s not exciting in any way. Denise’s unexpected return was all he’d been able to think about that entire night. He couldn’t imagine how Aki was faring. Trying to keep your mind on a client when your scary manager has returned from the dead is… He shook his head.

  As he bundled the sheets into his cart and remade the bed, Nate told himself he’d just have to get used to it. I came back from the dead and management was cool with it—is that why? Nate smoothed down the sheet, automatically fluffing the pillows. “It’d explain a lot… But man, we are so screwed.” There would be no excuses for calling out of work when the manager refused to call in dead…

  Maybe Ben will know what to do. Nate cheered up. The last time Ben had visited Nate at his place of work had resulted in a passionate encounter that left their feelings for each other exposed. Ben had purposefully avoided visiting Nate at his place of work since. If he’s changed his mind about that… Nate couldn’t help a feeling of anticipation. Maybe he’s changed his mind about the rest of it.

  Nate pushed his cleaning cart into the back corridor. The clock at the end of the hall indicated his shift had finished and he was free to wait for Ben in the club.

  There was no sign of Ben at the table booths, so Nate joined the guests at the bar. Although it was midweek, it seemed to him like the crowd was smaller than usual. Because of the negative publicity Denise mentioned? Nate leaned against the bar. That’s my fault…

  “You’re still here?” Aki leaned against the bar next to him.

  Nate shook his head, turning his attention to his companion. “Man, Aki. If I didn’t know we were friends…”

  Aki shrugged, depositing a tray of empty glasses on the bar. “You’ve become so boring since meeting your not-actual-boyfriend. I figured you’d be heading back home to pine at the first available opportunity.”

  “For your information, Ben’s on his way here.” Nate looked around the club again. His eyes fell on a group of patrons just entering the club. “Hey, there’s Rick.”

  “Who cares? Do you know who I saw?”

  Nate straightened. Rick had been his first regular client when he’d started at Century. “I should say hi.”

  Aki grabbed his arm for the second time that night. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Nate frowned. “Why not? I haven’t seen him in weeks. Not since—” Nate’s eyes widened. “Not since my supernatural status was added to my Century profile.”

  “This way.” Aki tugged Nate after him, heading across the dance floor to the shadows.

  Nate followed numbly. His heart beat fast, his head pulsing in time with it. But that means—

  “Okay.” Aki turned around to face him. “Let’s talk.”

  “That’s deliberate, isn’t it? He changed his night to my night off.” Nate turned his head back to look at Rick, deep in conversation with another host. “Because I’m supernatural.”

  “He’s an idiot.” Aki spoke with heat. “Seriously. Supernatural doesn’t mean dangerous—or that you’re not still you. If he’s too stupid to realize that, that’s his problem.”

  Nate looked down at his friend. Aki complained about anything and everything, but he wasn’t usually this vehement. “You knew. And you didn’t want me to find out—that’s why you’ve been acting so weird all evening.”

  Aki squirmed. “I knew you’d be upset. You’re way too invested in your clients.”

  Too invested? Nate leaned against the wall. “I thought we were—not friends, exactly. But cool. And he couldn’t even tell me himself.” That hurt as much as Rick’s desertion.

  “See? You care too much, Nate. No one at Starbucks tells their barista when they’re changing their coffee shop.”

  “I bet some people do.” But Aki had a point. Nate breathed out. I do care too much what people think of me. Part of being supernatural means facing this kind of reaction. And that means—it’s time to toughen up. He straightened. “You’re right. His loss.”

  Aki watched him. The shadows made his brown eyes even darker. “You’re really okay?”

  “Yeah. I got you and Ben—what do I need a graphic designer for? Shitty business cards?”

  Aki laughed. “That’s right.” He turned his gaze back
to the dance floor. “I guess I should get back to work.”

  Nate followed his gaze. The night had picked up, with a good-sized crowd swaying to the music blaring out of the club’s speakers. “Want to dance?” He let his hand rest on Aki’s arm. “It’s been ages since we worked a crowd.”

  “And show Rick what he’s missing at the same time?” Aki leaned into Nate’s touch. “Didn’t think you did that now you’re”—he sketched quotation marks in the air—“dating.”

  Nate gave Aki a push toward the crowd. “Dating doesn’t mean I can’t have fun with my friends.”

  Aki snorted, leading the way onto the floor. “How much fun can you be? You’ve been rusting in Little River, a place that, from everything you’ve told me, is too uncool even for barn dances.”

  Nate grabbed Aki’s arm. He gave a sharp tug that pulled Aki snug against Nate’s chest. Keeping Aki trapped against him, Nate moved, knowing Aki had no choice but to move with him. “What was that about ‘rusty’?”

  Aki’s mouth curved. He moved as if his body were adhered to Nate’s. “Challenge accepted. But I warn you—I’m not going to play nice.”

  “You’ve never played nice in your life.”

  Aki grinned. “Just so long as you know what you’re in for.”

  Nate placed his hands on Aki’s hips, spinning him around. “I’m aware.” He ground against Aki. “Are you?”

  Aki planted his feet squarely, looking back over his shoulder. He didn’t say anything. His look was challenge enough. Shutting his eyes, Aki began to rock with the beat pulsing through the club.

  Nate felt a spark of exhilaration. When Aki danced, he put his entire self into it—and it was impossible not to do the same. He let the music wash over him, his hand on Aki’s hip, reading his rhythm. When Aki moved, Nate moved with him, as seamlessly as if they’d rehearsed it.

  The lights flashed in time with the music, catching the dancers for a split second before losing them to the darkness. Nate caught glimpses of bodies moving in his peripheral vision but kept his eyes locked on Aki. He set a fast pace, daring Nate to match it.