Almost Final Curtain

by Hallaway, Tate

  In contrast, Elias, the actual vampire, usually tended toward business-casual.

  Weird.

  After a gum-snapping waitress in her forties took our order—was this place for real?—I watched Nik studiously avoid me. He played with the corner of the paper place mat, instead, folding and unfolding the corner.

  “My eyes are back to normal,” I assured him. “You can look at me.”

  He leaned back against the booth, the leather creaking as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. Despite what I said, he stared at the watch on his wrist as he spoke. “Things are getting intense at home. You know, after I turned eighteen in October?” He sneaked a look at me, but didn’t wait to see my reaction. “Papa wants me to ‘graduate.’”

  He didn’t mean from college, and I knew it. “But you can’t! You have to kill a vampire to do that.”

  His sharp glance and a nervous check around the room made me realize I hadn’t said that as quietly as I probably should have. I wasn’t too worried. I’d hung around with Taylor’s friends when they talked about ax-murdering trolls encountered in computer games and no one ever looked twice. “I know,” he said, keeping his voice pitched low. “But I can’t hold him off much longer.”

  “You’re going to have to,” I whispered harshly. “You can’t kill my friends.”

  “Now they’re your friends? I thought they were just your ‘people.’”

  I didn’t want to get into petty semantics. I struggled to keep my voice down. “You can’t kill anybody. It’s not right.”

  Nikolai bowed his head, running his fingers through his hair. “I have to do something, soon.”

  “Why don’t you tell your dad the truth? Tell him you don’t want to be a vampire hunter.”

  He looked up at me then, his amber eyes flashing dangerously dark. “Because, Ana,” he said. “That’s not the truth.”

  I pressed my back stiffly into the vinyl of the booth, trying to absorb what Nikolai had just said. When my brain couldn’t process it, I dumbly asked, “Are you saying you want to be a vampire hunter?”

  He went back to fiddling with his place mat, as I tried to remember to breathe. My understanding had always been that Nikolai’s family expected him, as their only son, to take up his father’s paranormal vocation, but that Nik had his own feelings about the whole affair—even before we became involved. Had he changed his mind? I watched him intently, trying to read the answer in his posture, his movements.

  Nikolai scratched the back of his neck, considering. He let out a measured sigh. “Look, I don’t know, Ana. I was serious about what I said to Constantine earlier. Vampires don’t belong here. Ask him and I’m sure he’d tell you he’d rather be home, beyond the Veil. You know as well as I do that their whole culture is based on homesickness.”

  He seemed to want an answer, but all I had was a shrug. That jibed with what little I did know about vampire culture. Elias had told me that they based the hierarchy of their society on what they remembered of the place they’d been stolen from. The First Witch had ripped them from their home, and once on this side, it took a magical death at the hands of someone like Nikolai’s father to send them back.

  Still, I didn’t see vampires lining up to throw themselves on Nik’s psychic blade.

  “So you’re just performing a public service?” I couldn’t quite keep the snark from my tone.

  “Wouldn’t the world be a better place without vampires?”

  I might have had a smarter comeback if I hadn’t had my own doubts about being half vampire. Instead I pulled the paper wrapping from the straw and looked over at the kitchen as if I suddenly cared how long it took them to make my chocolate malt.

  “You see my problem,” Nikolai said, as if my silence meant I agreed with him.

  “But I don’t,” I said. “If it’s really just that simple—that the vampires don’t belong here—why doesn’t the Council of Witches concoct a spell to send them all back? Tidy up their problem, as it were?”

  The waitress came with our drinks. She put out tall glasses and shook the malts from the metal containers. The smile she gave Nik and me was sly, like she thought we were a cute couple.

  Once she left, Nik returned to my question. “I suspect you’re part of the reason.” To my confused look, he added, “No one knows what will happen to you if they do something like that.”

  I shook my head. The ice-cream drink was so thick I used a spoon to take a bite, and then I waved the tip of it at Nik. “Vampires have been around since the first goddess cultures in the Stone Age. My dad came over under one of the Ramses pharaohs. Witches could have solved their vampire problem well before I was born.”

  “The talisman was only lost a few decades ago. They were useful to the witches before.”

  Before. It was a much more loaded word than it seemed. Before the secret war, before the vampires contrived to steal the mysterious talisman that kept them in thrall, and before it was lost to both parties—or hidden; I was never sure.

  “And,” I said, slurping a big mouthful of malt now that it was soft enough, “there are those vampires who have stayed loyal servants. No one wants to lose their ‘useful’ slaves.”

  Nikolai grimaced at his glass. “Yeah, there’s that.”

  I was glad that it seemed that we both found that idea distasteful. “It’s weird,” I said, taking a long sip of my malt. “I’ve never understood why anyone would stay with someone who used to, you know, own them.”

  Nik lifted his shoulder. “Vampires had been our slaves for thousands of years. It was the life they knew. I suppose it was comforting for some to stay.”

  “Sounds like the party line,” I said with a sneer.

  “How do you explain it?”

  I couldn’t.

  But there was a lot I didn’t understand about vampires. The “loyal servant” faction was the reason I had an honor guard. Occasionally, one of them tried to kill my dad, and a couple of times last year, at least, they went after me.

  I think that was the other reason my mom hated seeing the Igors trailing me; it reminded her of the problems in her own camp. If someone in the coven was sending servants to assassinate my dad or me, they weren’t playing by the rules of the truce.

  I never could figure out why anyone would want my dad dead—or deader, anyway. Okay, so Khan thought he was a sexist or whatever, but he always seemed okay to me. It wasn’t like I saw evidence of his provoking witches all the time.

  “You know, if you guys would just leave the free vampires alone, there’d be peace,” I said, pushing my malt glass away. Since awakening the half-vampire part of me, I noticed it didn’t take much food to fill me up. “What is your beef with them, anyway?”

  Nik seemed to have lost interest in his malt as well. “You’re serious?”

  “What?”

  “Your dad is a menace, Ana.”

  “In what way?” I meant the question to be sincere, but from the way Nik frowned, I must have sounded a bit defensive.

  “He incites his people to violence against us. Why do you think the coven recruited my dad from Russia?”

  Actually, I’d never considered that they had. I always thought that Nikolai’s dad moved to America for the same reasons Taylor’s family did, because this was supposed to be the promised land for immigrants. I guess that seemed silly when I thought about it that way. “Uh,” was my only intelligible response.

  “Most covens in America don’t need hunters. Your dad has made the Midwest region extraspecial.”

  Maybe if Nikolai hadn’t sneered at that point, I would have reacted better. “My dad?” I sputtered. “Maybe your dad fed you a load of bull. Did it ever occur to you that maybe your dad was brought over to threaten mine?”

  Nikolai’s jaw tightened. “It’s getting late. We should get you home. We don’t want your mom worrying.”

  “Don’t be like that,” I said, following him as he made his way to the cash register with the bill. “I didn’t mean to blurt that out,” I
added, which was true, even though I did think it was possible that Mr. Vampire Hunter might be a bit biased against my dad. “Whatever.”

  I chewed on my lip as he paid up and we walked out to where the car was parked along the street. I was trying to decide how to put what I wanted to say. I sat for a long time before buckling up, and finally gave up on diplomacy. “It really bothers you—what I am—doesn’t it?”

  He didn’t say anything, and I’d have to turn on my vampire eyes to read his expression in the darkened interior of the car.

  Even I knew that was a bad idea right now, so I just kept talking. “You used to say it kind of made you feel, uh, turned on dating one of the ‘enemy.’ I guess that’s not working so much for you anymore. Maybe we should take a, you know, break.”

  It was hard saying “break” like that even without the “up.” Just the thought of not seeing Nik on a regular basis made my stomach drop. I’d miss him. Worse, I knew that there were so many other normal, uncomplicated girls waiting for just such an opportunity to pounce. I suspected once I let him go, I’d never see him again. But how could I blame him if he wanted something simple like that?

  I blinked back the tears forming in my eyes, and busied myself with the seat belt.

  His hand touched my thigh lightly. There wasn’t the instant magical awareness like with Elias, but my body tingled in a very physical, human response.

  “Maybe we should.”

  Chapter Three

  To my credit, I held it together until I got home. Mom was surprised to see me back before ten, but I offered little explanation beyond “I’ll tell you later.” Even that came out kind of quivery, so I had to dash up the stairs.

  When I made it to the safety of my room, I shut the door and flung myself on my bed. There I let the floodgates go. I cried until I left wet spots on my pillow.

  “I wish it were still fashionable to challenge him to a duel.” I nearly choked at the sound of Elias’s soft voice at the window. “Though it pleases me to see an obstacle removed, I never relish your pain. A curse upon him who casts aside your affection so callously.”

  “It’s not like that.” I swallowed a sniff and palmed the tears from my cheeks. “It was a mutual decision. Kind of.”

  “Do your tears bear false witness, then?”

  It took me a second to figure out what he meant, and then I shook my head. “No, I’m crying because it still sucks to break up.”

  “Indeed. And I still hate him.”

  Despite everything, that brought a slight smile to my face. “You would no matter what, Elias.”

  “True enough,” he agreed. The night had grown darker, but the streetlamp across the road illuminated just a hint of his pale, fine-boned cheek beneath a canopy of pine needles.

  I was sure that if I was up for it, Elias would happily listen to me complain about Nikolai all night. I wasn’t in the mood. Plus I didn’t really have anything against Nik, not really. He was a vampire hunter’s apprentice. I was a vampire. End of story.

  All I wanted to do was wallow. Maybe even stereotypically inhale a pint or two of mocha ice cream, and listen to sad, weepy music on my iPod.

  “Hey, it’s really cool that you waited up for me and everything, but I want to, well, be—”

  He didn’t let me finish. I heard rather than saw him shift on the branch as if readying to leave. “Of course, my lady, you must have time to grieve alone. Though my main intent was to watch for your safe return, I also came with a message. Your father wishes to speak with you about the matter of an engagement you broke. I’ll stall him as long as I can. Though you know your father—he won’t wait forever, and this is a matter of some urgency.”

  I blew my nose in a Kleenex. “What are you talking about?”

  “Did you give Khan permission to break her engagement?”

  “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  “It was foolish. Her marriage had been arranged to strengthen relations with the Southern region’s prince. The boy she loves is a loyal servant.” Elias spat the last words like they were such a foul concept that they were literally distasteful.

  What did I care if Khan loved a servant or a human? “Look, it was romantic,” I said, feeling my heart go all wobbly again. A tear sneaked out of the corner of my eye.

  “Ah, I understand,” I heard him sigh in the darkness. “Yet, I believe I shall let you explain your actions to your father, the prince.”

  Given how willing Elias usually was to insert himself between me and any conflict, this probably meant Pop was pretty angry. “Whatever. I can handle Dad.”

  I thought I heard a chuckle as he left in a rustle of pine needles.

  A knock on my door made me jump. “Honey, are you talking on the phone to someone? Can I come in? What happened with Nikolai? You seem kind of upset.”

  Kind of? Yeah, that was the understatement of the year. “Go away, Mom.”

  “I don’t mean to intrude, but is everything okay with you and Nik? You came home awfully early. Did you fight about that vampire? You know I’ve told you not to have him around here.”

  Technically, she’d said “in the house,” but I didn’t want to get into yet another fight about Elias and vampires tonight. “Mom, seriously, I don’t want to talk about it. Not right now.”

  “Okay, honey. Should I bring up some hot chocolate or something?”

  My lip trembled. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

  Of course, I knew it was all part of her devious plan to get me to talk to her, but it totally worked.

  In twenty minutes she was sitting on the opposite end of my bed. She sat cross-legged with her back against the metal frame and a steaming mug of cocoa resting on her knee. My laptop playing Taylor Swift’s “Teardrops on My Guitar” on a constant loop was the only illumination. I hugged the box of tissues to my chest as I tried to talk through the sobs. “It’s a break. Not a breakup. At least I hope so.”

  “Well, that’s not so bad,” she said, taking a sip. “Maybe he needs a little space.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be dumb, Mom. There must be, like, a thousand girls waiting to date the lead singer of Ingress.” She looked confused, so I added, “You know. Older girls.”

  She adjusted her glasses. “What’s Ingress again?”

  This was why Mom was rarely my confidante. If it didn’t involve million-year-old goddess cultures in Anatolia or wherever, she had no clue. “Nik’s band.”

  “So this is about groupies? I thought you were fighting about vampires.”

  “We are fighting about vampires; the groupies just make this whole thing that much worse. A break means the exclusivity clause is off, you know? Do you think a guy like Nik isn’t going to jump on the opportunity to—?” I stopped because I was stumbling into embarrassing territory, and I could see the lightbulb flicker to life behind Mom’s eyes.

  “Cat around?” she said.

  I was glad the dark of the room hid the heat on my cheeks. “Yeah, something like that. I don’t really want to talk about this anymore.” Mostly because I was afraid she’d start trying to explain birds and bees and condoms again.

  To my surprise, Mom nodded. She stretched her legs, and then stood. “Try to get some sleep. There’s school tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Uh, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetie. Believe me—I understand that men are complicated. You and Nik will work things out. I have faith.”

  I frowned at that. Hadn’t I just explained why we wouldn’t?

  She headed down the stairs, with a little “It’ll be okay” wave. At least my awkwardness at talking with Mom briefly overwhelmed the ache in my heart. I snuggled under the comforter, and pulled it up over my head. I fell asleep humming the refrain of “Teardrops on My Guitar.”

  I woke up to rain pouring from dismal gray clouds, matching my mood perfectly. Thankfully, Mom was already off at one of her college gigs, so I munched my cornflakes silently, watching the rain streaking like tears down the glass.

  Our house
was way too big for the two of us, but Mom had inherited it from the Parker witches. Grandma and Grandpa had been dead as long as I could remember, but we lived with their memories and leftover stuff inside a gigantic estate in the trendy Crocus Hill neighborhood. The Victorian was more than a hundred years old, and every burst of wind caused its joints to creak and crack. This morning, especially, with thunder rattling the windows, the rooms felt cavernous and huge. Lightning threw long, flickering shadows across the expanse of the dusty, unused parlor, down the golden hardwood hallway, to glitter on the glass beads of the heavy chandelier above my head. I sat in my customary chair in the corner of a dining room set that could easily seat twenty. The noise of my spoon clanking against the bowl was the only sign of human habitation.

  With a heavy and resigned sigh, I padded on stocking feet to the kitchen. There, I put my dishes in the sink and then wandered out toward the door to get ready for school. I found my bright yellow raincoat in the closet by the door and an umbrella in a wicker basket near the coatrack. Shouldering my backpack, I headed off to the bus stop.

  Umbrellas were so stupid. They never really kept the wind from sneaking under and spattering your face with wet. The fourth time it bent backward, I gave up on it and collapsed it. Thus, my hair was completely soaked by the time I found a seat on the bus next to a shy, first-grade girl with thick braids and frog eyes on the hood of her rain jacket. The weather subdued the usual raucous mood, and we bounced along glumly, everything smelling of moistness. The older kids’ gossip had already shifted to a new topic—apparently someone had done some kind of typical high school prank—and so, thankfully, no one asked after Nik or Ingress.

  I read my history chapters as the bus shuddered from stop to stop.

  When we got to Stassen, I waved good-bye to the little girl. She rewarded me with a big white smile.

  Bea and Taylor waited by my locker. My Converses were completely soaked, and the rubber treads squeaked on the polished linoleum floor. When I saw my friends, I considered dashing into Mr. Knutson’s art room to hide, but Bea saw me and waved.