Chapter 34
I closed my eyes for a long moment and let the blood flow through me, healing the hurts of my body and leaving a few more unpleasant scars on my soul. Taking in the dirtier pieces of Lenny’s life force literally left a bad taste in my mouth to counterbalance the flush of healing energy I got from the fairy blood. Sometimes I understand why Greg doesn't drink from the source anymore. Not often, but sometimes. I heard Lenny's head and body fall to the canvas separately, and opened my eyes.
I looked around at the carnage and counted better than a dozen dead trolls, an unconscious vampire, a crippled dragon, a bloodstained blonde fairy, a decapitated brown-haired bad guy fairy, and several wary and blood-soaked humans. Then there was me, a freshly fed monster with my opponent's blood dripping off my chin and fangs overlapping my bottom lip. The crowd stood frozen in silence for just a second after Lenny's corpse hit the canvas, then erupted in wild cheers like they had all hit the lottery.
In a way, I suppose they had, since they stormed the two trolls manning (trolling?) the betting windows and beat them with chairs, purses and whatever else they could find until the less-than-jolly green giants just threw all the money into the crowd and slunk off into the night.
I limped over to Sabrina and the others and slid down to sit in the cage with my back to the chain link. "That sucked." I said.
"Didn't look like much fun from here." She replied.
"Good. Wouldn't want you to romanticize it or anything."
"Don't worry, Jimmy. When I watch you fight, romance is the last thing on my mind."
"Yeah? Well what does come to mind when you watch me fight, Detective?"
"The scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz on crystal meth." Greg said from where he lay on the canvas with a bandage wrapped around his head.
"Nice. Where'd the bandage come from?" I asked.
"That would be me, James." I looked over at Mike, who had on his priest's collar, but was now lacking the shirt that usually went with it. I couldn't help it, I started to laugh. Mike looked down at where his belly was poking out over his belt, and he laughed too. Then we were all laughing, slapping legs and the whole bit.
After a few minutes of silliness we calmed down, and started to work on getting out of the cage. Lenny hadn't bothered to put a door in when he built the thing, so I told Stephen to go get an axe and start cutting.
"Why am I doing the cutting? I thought I was the client?" He said as he came back with the axe.
"Technically, you're the victim; we're working for the cops. But since I just ate someone who disagreed with me, you're stuck doing my dirty work." I said, struggling to my feet. He set to work with the axe, cutting a big enough hole with just a few strokes, and we walked out into the empty warehouse. A few scattered dollar bills were all that was left of the cash wagered on the fight, and I swore loudly as I ducked through the cage.
"What's wrong with you?" Sabrina asked.
"Lenny owed us fifty large for the first fight." I said.
Her eyes got big as she looked around the building. "I don't think there's that much here."
"That's why I was cussing." I said, holding my not-quite healed ribs.
"Dude," Greg said from behind us. "I got it covered."
"How do you have it covered?" I growled.
"Lenny didn't trust all his money to the betting windows. I just grabbed about thirty grand off his dead body." That's my partner. He might claim that I'm the money-grubber, but he's the one that'll bleed you dry. Figuratively, of course.
"Nice work, bro." I turned to head for the exit, but stopped as the roll-up door slowly rose and a figure on a sleek black motorcycle rode in. The bike rolled up to us almost silently, and the rider pulled off her helmet as she got off and strode over to Greg. Lilith, one-time mate to Adam the Father of Man, one-time outcast from the Garden of Eden, one-time servant to the fallen angel Zepheril and current proprietrix of the biggest and fanciest topless bar in North Carolina, strutted across the concrete like she owned the place. Lilith was pure sex on two legs, with her leather jacket unzipped enough to make you wonder if there was anything under there, and leather pants tight enough to let you know there wasn’t anything on under there.
"I'll take that," Lilith said, holding out one hand for the cash.
"And why exactly would we give you my money, Lilith?" I said, stepping in front of her. "And what are you doing here?"
"The answer to both of those questions should be obvious, little vampire, I'm here because this is my establishment, and you'll give me the money because I will have a great deal of cleanup to do, not to mention more trolls to recruit after this debacle." The immortal strip club owner held out her hand again, and I couldn't help but laugh.
"Why am I not surprised that your hands are all in this mess?" I said. "Let me explain a couple of things, Lilith. One - we are not giving you any money. Greg won a bet, and your guys lost a fight. When that happens, you don't get paid."
She started to say something, but I reached out and put one finger across her delicious-looking lips. Lilith's lips are the reason mortal women take Botox - they're trying to catch up to what she has naturally. Too bad she knows it. "Two - you're closed. For good. And three..."
I stopped talking because she had grabbed my finger and slid into me, pressing herself along my body and looking up at me with a heat that I felt even with borrowed blood. She ran a finger over my lips, and I forgot how to breathe for a minute. Good thing for me it's more a force of habit than anything that keeps me alive. Lilith looked up at me and purred "But Jimmy, I don't want to close. That would make me unhappy." She gave a little pout that made me want to give her my firstborn, my kidneys, Greg - anything to make her smile again. "And you'd much rather make me happy, wouldn't you." She stood up on tiptoes and licked along my jawline, and I could almost feel my IQ drop into the single digits.
Suddenly Lilith flew backwards and landed on her leather-clad rump, kicking up a little "poof" of concrete dust. I shook my head to clear it and saw a very angry Sabrina standing over Lilith with her finger in the immortal woman's face. "Look here, slut. In case you're hard of hearing as well as low on morals, the man said 'you're closed.' And I'm saying it again. You're. Closed. Any questions?"
"Oh, I understand you perfectly, detective. But do you understand yourself?" I've never seen anyone slink to their feet before, but Lilith moved with a liquid grace that was at the same time seductive and unnerving. Watching her walk made me wonder who was really the serpent in the Garden of Eden.
"I understand all I need to, you antique hag." With the mention of age, Lilith spun on her heel and stared at Sabrina like she'd been slapped. "Yeah, I know who you are. And I know another thing - if you ever lay a finger on my cousin, or any other person in this city under my protection, I will personally end your ridiculously long life." Sabrina stood with her arms folded across her chest, almost daring Lilith to make a move.
"You can't kill me, Detective. Better women than you have tried." She slithered back around to me and whispered. "Now, Jimmy, why don't we get out of here?"
"Because I don't go for older women." I said, and shoved her back. Keeping Lilith at greater than arm’s length was looking like a very good idea. "Now get out of here, Lilith, and keep your nose clean. I owe you for helping us with the Belial thing, but after this, we're square. Your little fight club is out of business. Go back to running a strip bar, it's legal at least."
"Little vampire, you have no idea what forces you are setting in motion against you." Lilith started forward with venom in her eyes, only to stagger back as a blinding white light came from behind me.
"But I do, Lilith. And you know all too well the forces that are at play alongside me." Mike stepped forward, holding his crucifix out in front of him like a shield. The holy symbol put off a light brighter than the July sun, and Greg and I both shielded our eyes. Bright lights make you more than a little nervous when you're one of the undead creatures of the night.
Lilith stood defia
nt for a long moment, then spat at Mike "I'm not done with you, priest. I'll see you again." Then she hopped on her bike and roared out into the night, her raven hair flying out behind her.
"We'll be ready," Mike said in a low voice, and I was pretty sure that I wasn't part of the "we" in question.
"Hey," I said to nobody in general. "Think she knows there's a helmet law in North Carolina?"
Chapter 35
An hour later, I was sitting on the floor of my den, leaning against a wall with a beer in my hand, looking at my friends scattered around the room and smiling. Sabrina was sitting on the floor next to me, her shoulder warm against mine. I could feel her heartbeat through her skin, pulsing along merrily. Greg was in a chair pulled in from the kitchen, sipping a bag of blood from the crisper and looking better every minute.
Stephen and Alex were sitting on the couch holding hands. Now that things had calmed down and no one was trying to kill any of us, Alex had a lot of questions about vampires, fairies and dragons. Stephen had more than a few questions about fairyland for Tivernius, who sat in our lone armchair explaining what he could. Mike walked in from the kitchen with a Scotch for himself and one for the gimpy dragon, and sat in another kitchen chair.
"If this keeps up we're going to have to get more furniture." I said across the circle of people to Greg.
"Yeah, well, we can afford it now!" He laughed, pointing over his shoulder at the pile of cash on the table. We all chuckled, and Tivernius sipped his Scotch, savoring the smoky flavor.
"I do wish we had this concoction in the lands of House Armelion." The dragon murmured.
"No Scotch in FairyLand?" I asked.
"No, James, there are no fermented beverages at all in the lands of the Fae." He said.
"I wonder why that is?" I looked over at Sabrina.
"No you don't, you just didn't have anything witty to say." She said, not moving from right next to me.
"Good point." I told her.
We sat, and drank, and sat and drank, until finally we had polished off the bottle of Scotch as well as a twelve-pack of Miller Lite. When he finished the last of his drink, Tivernius stood, a little unsteadily, and waved a cheery farewell to all of us. He walked to the center of the room, waved his arms, and after a couple of unsuccessful attempts, conjured a portal in the air to take him home.
"Hey wait," I said, hopping up and running to my bedroom. I grabbed Milandra's sword and brought it back to the den. "I meant to send this back to you. I know Milandra's pretty pissed that we got Otto killed, and tell her that I'm sorry. I liked him; he was a good man. Um, fairy. Oh, you know what I mean!"
"I do know what you mean, James. And while you are all still forbidden from returning the lands of House Armelion under pain of death, Her Majesty did tell me that she wished you to keep this blade, should you survive your encounter with the traitor Leothandron." He reached through the shimmering hole in the air, and pulled out a plain scabbard. He slid the sword into it and presented it to me. "Use it well, James. This blade has been gone from your world for some time, but this may be the time to return it to the land of men. Be well, my friends." And with a wave and a smile, he stepped through the hole in the air, and vanished.
"I will never get used to seeing somebody do that." Sabrina said.
"You probably won't need to, babe. Since we're banned from FairyLand, not much use for portals in my living room." I said.
"Babe?" She asked, that one eyebrow shooting north. I tried to return the eyebrow, but without having my face pulverized I could only move them two at a time. She looked at me trying, and laughed. "Call me whatever you want, Jimmy, but for tonight, call me a cab. I'm done."
"Take my bed. The sheets are clean." I said.
"No, I couldn't. I'll cab it home." Sabrina protested.
"Then have to cab it all the way back here tomorrow for your car? That's silly. Go to bed. I'll be fine on the couch. I don't really sleep anyway, remember?" She started to argue more, then caught sight of Alex and Stephen watching us smiling.
"What?" She asked dangerously.
"Nothing, cousin dear. We just think it's cute." Stephen said.
"Think what's cute?" Sabrina asked, voice dripping with danger. I pretended to be busy getting a blanket out of the linen closet; because I didn't need to be around if she shot them. Greg took that opportunity to mutter a quiet "goodnight" to everyone and run into his room, slamming the door behind him. I guess he'd seen enough bloodshed and brutality for one night.
"You two have never even kissed, and you're acting like an old married couple!" Alex laughed while he said it, which might be the only thing that kept him from certain death. "Cousin, it was wonderful to finally meet you." He said as he crossed to Sabrina and gave her a big hug. In the face of his hug and big grin she couldn't even pretend to stay mad. "Now I'm going to take my husband home and put him to bed. Goodnight everyone, and thank you."
"Yeah, guys. We can't thank you enough." Stephen agreed.
"That's okay, Lenny thanked us plenty," I said, pointing at the cash on the table. We all laughed, and the guys all headed up the stairs and into the dawning light. Mike went with them, counting on his clergy bumper sticker to get him out of a Breathalyzer test. Besides, his church was close.
Sabrina and Stephen took a moment at the bottom of the stairs, heads close together, talking softly. When they finished, he headed upstairs with Alex and she walked back towards me, wiping at her eyes.
"Wanna talk about it?" I asked, holding out a bottle of beer.
"Not really. Family stuff. I thought you were out of beer?" She asked.
"We were out of guest beer. We were not out of my private stash." I smiled as I carried my blanket over to the couch.
Sabrina stood at the doorway into my bedroom and looked over at me, holding up her bottle. "I get to drink from the private stash?" She raised that eyebrow at me again, and I knew it was going to take me a long time to get to sleep.
"Detective, you can drink from whatever you want." I said with a smirk.
"Maybe if you play your cards right, I'll tell you the same thing someday." Sabrina said, smirking right back at me. She turned, walked into my bedroom, and closed the door.
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Author’s Note
As always, there are a few folks that I need to thank for helping this book come to life. First of all, a big thanks to Dallas Tanner for providing the cover art for this book. I think the cover is fun and a little creepy all at the same time, and perfectly captures the kind of silliness that the Black Knight boys are all about.
I also owe a thanks to Cyd Knight and Amanda Moore for helping with the preliminary proofreading for this volume. I hate proofreading, because I have the attention span of a mosquito on crystal meth, so their help was invaluable.
This is where I’m going to get a little socially conscious, so if you’re the type of person who doesn’t want to hear anything about what a writer thinks outside the page, then you should stop reading here.
Okay, if you’re still around, you asked for it. I came up with the core idea of this book last summer, when I was horrified at a series of suicides by young gay men across the US. In the span of just a few months, more than half a dozen young men took their own lives as a result of bullying and teasing because of their sexual orientation.
That’s wrong. It sucks. It’s awful. And if I can do anything with my books to make people understand that there’s nothing wrong with being different, then I want to do that. But of course I can’t be serious for very long, so I ended up writing a (hopefully) funny book that happens to have a small subplot about a family coming back together after being torn apart by bigotry.
But please, if you’re a young person reading this and thinking that a fat straight hillbilly from North Carolina doesn’t know anything about being young and gay in Wherever You Are, please understand that I might not, but I still want to help.
And the only way I can help is to write snarky books with what I hope are honest gay
characters that aren’t caricatures (regardless of the dancer stereotype), and say sincere things in the author’s notes like this. So please, understand a simple truth - it gets better.
Dan Savage is a brilliant columnist who much funnier than I am, and he’s also a lot more familiar with what it’s like to grow up gay in America. Last year he started the It Gets Better Project, which solicited testimonials from people from all walks of life to tell their stories. Go to www.itgetsbetter.org for more information, and some amazing stories.
The Trevor Project is a place where people can call in and get help if they are having trouble coming out, or dealing with being gay, or dealing with people having trouble with them being gay. If you are considering suicide, please call them or go to their website. The website is www.thetrevorproject.org and the phone number is 866-488-7386.
Black Knight 02 - Back in Black Page 17
