“Have you seen our faces, you bitch? Little ladies like you give us the cold shoulder because they think we’re gross, but we get them back for being . . . what’s the word for it? Yeah, for being hot tea.”
Jack really had a refined vocabulary.
“I think the word you’re looking for is haughty. H-a-u-g-h-t-y,” I spelled out.
That was a mistake, because they went ballistic. Both of them let out a drunken growl . . . “Oooowwweeerrrooooo!”
Pox spit on the ground during the r part.
“The li’l’ lady sure is being high and mighty. You’ll see. We’ll make you choke on your education! And when we’ve both been on top of you, you’ll scream like a dirty whore!”
Pox’s jeering had stopped, replaced by a cruel predatory glare that seemed like a precursor to action.
During my training sessions, I had been facing Phoenix, and I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, so I always wondered, in case of real danger, if I would be able to apply his lessons or if I would be paralyzed with fear. I had my answer in that moment.
A great calm engulfed me, and discreetly, I tensed my muscles to prepare for an attack.
I looked at Pox and said, “Appearances can be deceiving. I’ll give you a chance to leave and change the way you treat women. If you don’t take it, I’ll see to it that you never have any children.” I said this in a tone as cutting as a razorblade (I’d modeled it on my boss’s).
Puffy laughed like an idiot. Pox said nothing, happy to just keep staring at me. And then everything happened fast.
As if it were a well-choreographed ballet, Puffy made the first move: he hurled himself at me, trying to push me on my back. I was surprised by the force with which he struck me, and I toppled over with him. Puffy’s steps were to hold me down while his accomplice did what he wanted with me, waiting for his own turn.
But Phoenix’s lessons were solidly engrained. I bit Puffy’s arm, drawing blood. He let go, and I punched him in the mouth, smashing the few teeth he had left. Pox decided to intervene and tried to throw himself on top of me too. I rolled onto my side to avoid him, and while he crashed to the ground, I got to my feet.
My two attackers scrambled up, angry and wielding knives. That complicated things, but in theory I knew what to do, so I gathered my strength.
When they both came at me, I managed to pivot and elude Puffy’s knife while elbowing him in the face, breaking his nose, and sending him to the ground. Then I disarmed Pox with a kick to the wrist. Pox looked at me uncertainly.
Writhing on the ground, mouth and face covered in blood, Puffy shouted at Jack, “Fuck, just kill that fucking whore!”
As if he had rediscovered all his courage from this speech worthy of a king inspiring his troops before battle, Pox attacked me again.
I dealt him a punch to the face that sent him to the ground too. I thought about the women they had said they’d already attacked, and the red veil fell over my eyes as it had when I was going at the punching bag. I lowered my gaze to Pox’s crotch and lifted my foot. He screamed bloody murder when I used all my force to land my heel directly on his man parts.
Puffy cried out, “No!” while holding his own reproductive apparatus, then screamed like a warrior on the attack when he got up to charge at me. I hit him a third time and ended up smashing his jaw along with any desire to return to the fray. He finally approached his unconscious accomplice and tried to lift him while glancing fearfully in my direction. He limped away, but I refused to let my guard down, especially since the red veil hadn’t left yet. Still in a trance, I pulled the gun from my coat.
I was in luck, for the one called Jack, supposedly unconscious, managed to lean on his friend and then turn and point an object in my direction. He didn’t have time to aim.
My weapon was smoking after the shot that sent Pox’s gun flying. Judging from the bestial howls coming from him, I must have shot off some of his fingers too.
They were almost at the street corner when I aimed at them again.
A gust of wind flitted through my hair, which had mostly come undone from its ponytail. A hand removed the gun from my hand, while another forced me to turn around.
It was Phoenix.
“It is not necessary to kill them. I doubt they will risk trying to hurt a woman again. And like you said to that filthy brute, he will never be able to reproduce again.”
I stared at him, scared of understanding what he was saying.
“You mean you were there? And you didn’t do anything to help me?” I said slowly to make him absorb the idea as well as make him guess just how much I wanted to hit him, disregarding the pain I was feeling.
Might as well hit a rock.
“You coped well enough on your own. I did not think it of any use to intervene.”
I was shocked. “You’re a monster.”
“This just in!” he said, rolling his eyes. “Tell me something I do not already know.”
“What if it had turned out badly?”
“You were never in any danger. I followed you from the moment you left Kiro’s shop. I orchestrated the whole thing.”
“Excuse me?” I screamed.
“I told you that you are in a trial period. I wanted to see what you were capable of doing on your own if you were in real danger. So when you left to look for that imaginary minimarket, I ferreted out those two, whom I had noticed hanging around when we arrived, and I told them that I was looking for a beautiful young woman who was supposed to meet me and who was probably lost. Those imbeciles wanted to mug me. I pretended to flee, and they left in search of you. You applied the lessons I gave you well. Congratulations, your trial period is over.”
I had listened without interrupting, stunned by the ruse he had dared put in place to know if I was going to chicken out when faced with a real threat. For a resourceful being, that was quite efficient. I should have been proud of myself. Clearly he was.
But I felt stupid at being manipulated and terribly angry with Phoenix, who was smiling as if it were all a game. However, the women that those men claimed to have attacked, they really existed, and I knew it. Those two wanted to do the same to me because my boss had sent them out to find me.
I moved away from him, feeling nauseous.
“Those men weren’t just simple thieves. They were rapists! And you sent them after me.”
Disgust supplanted my anger.
“I questioned Kiro about them when you left. Those men tried to assault his granddaughter a few weeks ago, but no one took care of it. I killed two birds with one stone. Those bastards deserved even more than what you inflicted on them. But you are not a murderer. I had to stop you from killing them.”
His sincerity made my anger evaporate. Those men had learned their lesson. Maybe they deserved to die, but it wasn’t up to me to send them to the grave. Phoenix was right: I wasn’t a murderer.
Phoenix held out his hand.
“Let us go back.”
I stared at him, and then took his hand. All I wanted was to take a shower, go to bed, and forget this evening and my trial period.
CHAPTER SIX
Investigation
We made the return trip in complete silence. Phoenix likely thought that I was still angry with him. I knew that as a vampire, the rules of morality were more relaxed for him, so he probably didn’t feel at all guilty for throwing me into the path of two barbarians. I was sure that he thought he’d done me a service. In a sense that was true: I learned I was capable of defending myself in real danger.
In fact, I didn’t feel any animosity toward him. I just didn’t feel like talking. I wanted to use the time in the car to take stock of recent events.
I, a pathetic librarian without any particular aptitude, I had maimed two oafs who had wanted to do me harm. It had all been in legitimate self-defense, but I could have spared Pox his near castration. I had let the disgust inspired by those two men take me over completely. But I’d never feel guilty about it. By the time we arrived back at the manor in
Scarborough, I decided that I had done what was necessary. Anyway, Phoenix had warned me that I would have to hurt and kill to defend my own life. That experience would certainly not be the last. With a calm conscience but incredible fatigue, I got out of the car and walked up the front steps. Then from behind me I heard Phoenix.
“It’s strange. Since we left I have been expecting an explosion of fury and accusations against me, but you say nothing. I think I would prefer shouting to this overwhelming silence. Are you going to say anything?”
He seemed exasperated. He couldn’t see the smile that appeared on my face while listening to him, and I decided to needle him further. Turning around, I arranged my face into an inscrutable mask.
“I seem to remember hearing you say that you aren’t paying me for my conversation.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Kiro is right. You can really be insufferable.”
“And you can be quite tactless.”
We went into the manor.
“You want me to say something to you? I’m going to need new heels. Good night!”
With that, I left him standing there in the hall.
When I opened the blinds (my employer had given me permission to leave them open during the day), the sun was already high in the sky.
I was in a great mood. I had slept like a baby. The events of the evening before were nothing more than a distant memory to which I was completely indifferent. I was also planning my trip to discover the charming town of Scarborough and its two thousand inhabitants. At this point, past midday, the best way to do it was to try out the local restaurants. I decided to dress casually since I wasn’t on duty: T-shirt, sweater, jeans, loafers, ponytail.
It was early March, and it was still cold outside. I was very happy to have my long coat, which kept me warm and provided ample concealment for my firearm. The coat hadn’t suffered at all from the scuffle with the two brutes the night before, so everything was perfect . . .
At least it was until I realized that Phoenix had said the manor was far from the center of town and I would have to drive. I had a choice between two cars: the powerful sport Audi R8 or the red Camaro with black stripes. For a discreet visit downtown, neither was ideal. These vampires and their taste for showing off!
I decided immediately to set money aside to buy a car as soon as possible, one that would belong to me and would be much less conspicuous.
In the interim, I sighed and grabbed the keys to the Audi. To avoid destroying the car, which would have earned me the telling-off of the century from my boss, I did a few maneuvers in the driveway. Once I felt comfortable, I activated the remote that opened the outer wall gates and left.
As I feared, parking such a car in the middle of a small town got me some looks from a good number of my fellow citizens. I took it upon myself to look relaxed and smile, but I still hurried to put some distance between the car and myself.
I was on Main Street, whose historical buildings resembled the private mansions of the well-off quarters of nineteenth-century New York. There were lots of little shops and some restaurants. The bright blue facade of one, Danny’s Good Eats, caught my eye, and I walked over to it. When I pushed open the door, heads turned in my direction, and instead of returning to their meals, the patrons continued to stare at me.
“Good afternoon,” I said with a nervous smile.
There was an open seat at the counter, and I headed there, happy to turn my back on all those curious eyes. Good grief. There was a mirror on the wall so I could see they were still wondering who I could be. I also had a good view of the decoration. I thought I’d been sent back to the 1950s: there was a huge poster of Elvis that presided over one of the sky-blue walls of the restaurant and old leather booths.
A man who looked about sixty years old and wore an apron came over and handed me a menu.
“Good afternoon, little lady. I’m Danny Robertson, the owner of this restaurant. Pick what you want, and I’ll make it for you in a minute.”
I immediately thought he was nice. He had grizzled hair, a bit thinning on top, a solid paunch, and an infectious smile that I returned as I took the menu from his hand.
The menu items were simple but appetizing. I picked the roast chicken and fries.
“And for my last customer,” he said as he brought me my plate a bit later.
It was true that I’d been the last to order. He looked at me as I attacked the plate and ate my first mouthfuls . . .
“Yum . . . this is the best chicken I’ve ever eaten,” I said with my mouth still full, which made my host burst out laughing.
“So, what brings you to Scarborough, little lady? Are you lost?”
I suspected that people were going to ask me questions, and Phoenix had prepared me for that scenario. I absolutely had to keep my story straight.
“No, I’m not lost . . . I’m Samantha. I’m from Seattle.”
“That’s all the way on the other coast!” Danny reacted, whistling. “What brings you here?”
“Well . . . my parents died a while ago, in a car accident. I don’t have any other family left there, so my grandfather asked if I wanted to come live with him. Since he’s old and he can’t really get around on his own, I’m sort of his live-in nurse now.”
Danny stared at me with round eyes. He had taken the bait.
“So your grandfather, is he the mysterious Peter Stratford?”
“Mysterious?” I repeated, feigning surprise.
“Well, it’s been a few years now since your grandfather moved into the manor, but no one’s seen him. All that we know is that he gets everything he needs delivered by the stores at the Pembroke Mall. The manager there likes to give the impression that he knows your grandfather, but everyone knows even he hasn’t met the man. It’s good that you’re here, because some weirdos are starting to think that the manor is housing an undercover drug lord! Haaaa-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
I forced myself to roar with laughter like he was, confirming that the idea was clearly foolish. If only he knew!
“You can tell them that my grandfather truly exists. I can attest to it. He stays cooped up at home, though, and not just because he has trouble getting around. He also suffers from some social anxiety.”
“I don’t need to say this, but everyone is listening to you. By tonight, all of Scarborough will know.”
“I see. Advantages of living in a small town, I guess,” I said ironically.
Danny burst out laughing.
“Go on, eat up. Two or three months from now, people will stop thinking of you as the new local attraction.”
He laughed even more seeing my miffed expression.
“I’m not looking for notoriety. I just want to blend in.”
“You’re in the right place. The people here are the most welcoming that I’ve ever met.”
“You’re not originally from Scarborough?”
“No, I’m from a small town in New Mexico called Crownpoint. Leaving that place was the best decision I could have made. I went here and there, and then I ended up in this town and I met the people. That was thirty years ago. Scarborough, little lady, when you come here, you stay. This place is a true gem.”
His story was touching, and Danny was truly friendly.
“I haven’t had much time to visit, but the little I’ve seen, I’ve found charming.”
“Go to the candy store. All the kids in town rush there after school. A friend of mine, Ginger Wood, she’s the owner. Tell her I sent you and she’ll spoil you!”
He leaned in closer, gave me a knowing wink, and whispered, “She’s crazy about me.”
I loved sweets, just as much as I thought I would come to adore Danny, his chicken, and his good ideas. Before leaving town, I would make an obligatory detour to that shop.
“I’ve deduced that you’re not married, Danny.”
“A heartbreaker like me? No!”
As we got to know each other over the course of an hour, the restaurant emptied out and I didn’t even no
tice. That’s how captivated I was by the story of my host’s life.
His hometown offered no future to a young man with a curious and adventurous mind. At sixteen, not having any family, Danny decided to leave his hometown and travel across the country, working various small jobs. Kerington interested him, and so he headed there. After several years, he discovered Scarborough while following one of his lady friends who wanted to visit it. She left the town, but he didn’t. The people had been seduced by his personality and they welcomed him with open arms. With their help, he started his business, which did so well that it had become a source of local pride, and Danny a local celebrity.
No one had ever opened themselves up to me like this before. Even if I suspected that Danny was thrilled at any opportunity to recount his adventures to any and all of his patrons, it gave me the impression of being his confidante, which I had never been for anyone.
I didn’t even notice when someone had entered the restaurant.
“Dad, stop taking the tourists hostage and making them listen to your life story in detail, or else they won’t come back!”
The sudden interruption made me jump, and I looked around for its source. A man about my age was standing at the door and taking off his coat. He was a bit shorter than Phoenix. He had short black hair and hazel eyes, and he was wearing a heavy wool sweater and jeans.
“Sorry to scare you, Miss, um . . . ,” he said, offering me his hand.
“Stratford. Samantha Stratford,” I answered, vigorously shaking his hand.
“Stratford? Like the mysterious Peter?”
“Well, for me, he’s not a mystery. He’s my grandfather.”
“Oh.”
I couldn’t help smiling at his embarrassment.
“Pardon my indiscretion. I haven’t even introduced myself. Matthew Robertson. As you may have guessed, the chatty chef who runs this place is my father.”
I looked at Danny. “I thought you’d never married?”
I must have missed an episode of his life story.
“It’s the truth, though I’ve known a number of women, believe me!” Another wink. “But none of them made me want to tie the knot. Twenty-nine years ago, I went to see an acquaintance in Kerington. Passing by an alley, I heard a baby crying, and when I looked around, I found a little guy near a heap of garbage cans. He was cold and hungry. I wasn’t going to leave him there. We really tried, but we never were able to figure out who his parents were. So I kept him with me.”
Samantha Watkins: Chronicles of an Extraordinary Ordinary Life (Samantha Watkins Series Book 1) Page 9
