by L.H. Cosway
“Don’t bother paying at the window,” he tells me casually as I make my way in. Yeah, damn skippy I won’t be paying. The shock and conflicting emotions that Rita’s clairvoyance spell pulled out of me has me feeling slightly unstable in the head department. Story of my life. And just when I’d been making such progress.
Delilah told me expressly that I am to come to the staff common room to meet her and under no circumstances am I to go near Ethan’s office. I wonder at this. But I’m sure all will be revealed once I talk to the flame-haired dhamphir. Actually, on second thought, I’ll probably be even more clueless once that happens. I slip through the staff door without being stopped by any of the workers and make my way down the corridor.
Obviously, Delilah didn’t exactly think through the whole part about me not going near Ethan’s office, because to get to the common room I have to walk directly by it. As I near said office I notice that somebody’s standing outside the door, in a stance that suggests they’re keeping guard. Another three steps and they turn their head in my direction, clearly having heard me coming.
I feel like an idiot because I can’t help but to gawk at the guy since he’s sort of boy-pretty. You know like Leonardo Di Caprio in Romeo and Juliet or a very young Johnny Depp. He’s about a head taller than me with messy dark brown hair cut short to the neck line and hanging long over the face. He’s also wearing tight black skinny jeans, a studded belt, a sleeveless muscle T that’s showing an inch of flat, toned stomach any girl would give her right arm for. Bright hazel green eyes meet my blue ones, and I instantly redden and look away, embarrassed for having been so engrossed in sizing him up.
I’m just passing him when I look up again and go even more red in the face. But this time for a very different reason, because it isn’t a boy standing at Ethan’s office door, it’s a girl, just a very ambivalent one. We make eye contact for the briefest of seconds before I return my gaze to focusing straight ahead of me. I just about catch her smirk.
“Where d’you think you’re going, honey?” asks the girl in a deep, gravelly, rock star voice. You couldn’t blame me for thinking she was a man, she even sounds like one. I make an attempt to answer, failing miserably, because it’s hard to think past the fact that this girl is beautiful, androgynous, and charismatic without even trying.
I cough to clear my throat. “Sorry, um, I’m going to meet Delilah.”
“Oh,” says the girl, looking vaguely disappointed for some reason. “She went by like –” glances down at her phone, “ten minutes ago. That way.” She points in the direction I’d been heading.
“Right,” I answer. “Thanks. I’m Tegan by the way.” I introduce myself out of nervousness when there really wasn’t any call for it, and, of all things, put out my hand for her to shake. Idiot.
The girl smiles at me with full lips and the most mesmerising eyes, she takes my hand in a firm grip. “Nice to meet you Tegan. I’m Dru.”
“Nice to meet you too, Dru.” I mumble as she lets got of my hand, then pulls a pack of cigarettes out of her back pocket, and lights one up. I stand there watching even though I should be moving along by now.
She holds out the pack to me. “You want one?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No thanks.” I tell her. She nods and shoves them back in her pocket. Takes a drag of her lit smoke, still watching me with some sort of interest, and then shakes her head.
“Just my luck,” she says in a low voice to herself. “You tell Delilah she’s a lucky girl.”
My face takes on a blank expression. “Huh?”
“You’re her girlfriend, right?” she answers, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
My jaw drops. “Me – and Delilah? Oh no, that’s not, I’m not…she’s just a friend, well, more an acquaintance…” embarrassment has me rambling.
Dru laughs. “It’s okay. I get it.”
“You…do?” I ask, stupidly.
“Yeah. I do. Damn shame though.” Her eyes drop to my feet and then slowly travel upwards. Lingering on my hips and chest. If she were a man I’d be blushing uncontrollably. Who am I trying to fool? I am blushing uncontrollably. And it’s confusing, so again, I mumble. “I, um, better be going,” and then hurry on down the corridor.
“See ya,” she calls after me.
When I get to the door of the common room I pause a moment to gather myself. And just as I’m asking, what the hell was that about? The answer automatically presents itself. Dru’s a vampire. Of course, that’s why she’d shown signs of attraction, it’s all to do with my stupid blood curse.
With a sigh I open the door, and I’m immediately confronted by Delilah who demands, “What the hell took you so long?”
I frown. “Um, it’s middle of the night, and I was on the other side of town. I don’t know about you but I can hardly click my fingers and get here just like that. I had to ride the bus, by the way, which wasn’t pleasant at this time of night.”
She appears momentarily taken aback at my outburst, but quickly brushes it off. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” she says, “you’re here now. Sit down, we need to talk.”
I take a seat on the big leather couch as Delilah paces back and forth in front of me, arms folded, face deep in thought. She’s wearing a pair of fire-engine red stilettos, almost matching her curly hair, and a tight black leather mini dress. A minute passes before she says anything, and I stay silent since I’m just about ready to conk out from exhaustion. Finally, Delilah speaks. “There’s trouble coming, and I need your help.”
I eye her cautiously, before replying. “Uh-huh. Why would an all-powerful dhamphir need the help of a human pleb like me?” I ask, a little too heavy on the sarcasm. Deprive me of sleep and I’m a horror, there’s nothing I can do about it.
Delilah raises an eyebrow at my attitude but doesn’t rebuke me for it. I suppose she knows she should thread lightly if she wants me to help her.
She smirks. “Sometimes a dhamphir requires the assistance of those below her. Anyway, to get to the point, I need you to give Ethan an alibi for last night.”
“What does he need an alibi for?” I ask with suspicion.
Delilah sighs heavily, as though the weight of the world is on her shoulders and she doesn’t have time to be answering my idiotic questions. “Because,” she intones, “an attempt was made on the life of our Vampire Governor Howard Herrington last night, and every high ranking vamp in the city is under suspicion for it.”
“Why would a vampire try to kill him, isn’t he like, their leader or whatever?”
“Howard is particularly paranoid about other vampires trying to overthrow him. And I wouldn’t put it past certain individuals to try to kill him, but it certainly wasn’t Ethan. I know that for a fact. The only problem is that Ethan was alone in his house last night, therefore nobody can vouch for him.”
The idea of Ethan spending the night alone in his house touches me. He just doesn’t seem like the type to spend a night in by the television, or reading a good book. I almost laugh. Perhaps I misjudged his character. Then I remember that he’s a killer. Yeah, how could I forget?
“Um, can’t you or Lucas just lie and say you were with him, I don’t get why you need me to do it.”
Again with the heavy sigh. “That would work just fine if it weren’t for the fact that Herrington’s people already questioned all the vampires working here at the club, before telling us why they were questioning us. In ignorance of their true intentions we all told them the truth of where we were, so now there’s nobody left to say Ethan was with them. Do you understand now?”
“So get one of your human workers to give him an alibi, I’m sure Judy would jump at the chance.” I say, a little too snappy. I don’t want to get involved in this, I have enough on my plate already tonight after what Rita’s spell revealed to me. And, I’m edgy around the vamps in general right now, never mind if I had to stand in front of their Governor and tell a bare faced lie.
“You really don’t get it do you,” Delilah bursts. “
We can’t just get any old human to vouch for Ethan because Herrington will be able to compel them to tell the truth. But with you he won’t be able to do that. Of course, you’ll pretend his thrall is working on you all the same.”
Well, now I actually do get what she means, but that doesn’t mean I like it. I can imagine what will happen if Herrington questions me and then somehow spots that his compulsion isn’t working while I’m pretending that it is.
“It’s too risky.” I say nervously.
“Do you want to see Ethan put on trial for a crime he didn’t commit?” Delilah asks.
“No but,” I hesitate, just as I’m about to defend myself, and realise that I’ll probably get home and to bed a whole lot sooner if I simply go ahead and do this. “Oh God – I know I’m going to regret this. I’ll do it.”
Delilah looks like she just might kiss me, before rambling on, “Right okay. I promise you won’t regret this, we need to get both of your stories straight. What were you doing last night? I hope nothing too public.”
“I was at home in bed,” I answer.
“That’s perfect. Okay, so you’ll simply tell them that Ethan was with you all night.”
I cough, and remind myself the alibi is fictional. “All right. But where’s Ethan now? Isn’t he in his office being questioned already?” I’d figured this was the reason she’d told me to steer clear of the room.
“That’s the problem, Ethan’s been gone all evening and I can’t get a hold of him on any of his phones. Herrington and his wife Antonia are in his office waiting with all their bastard bodyguards. Ethan isn’t going to have a clue what’s going on.”
“Oh – I think I might have met one of the guards on my way here.”
“Which one?” asks Delilah, vaguely anxious.
“Dru – the girl one. At least I think she was a girl.”
Delilah laughs. “Oh yeah, she’s a girl all right. Probably the most personable of Herrington’s bulldogs too, but at the same time the most lethal. Don’t let her charm you, she’s a fucking snake that one.”
“I’ll remember not to,” I say.
Delilah rubs her bare arms a minute before grabbing her phone from the counter by the kitchenette. “I’m going to try Ethan one more time,” she tells me, turning away to dial his number. I sit still and wait. Ethan must answer because Delilah begins an angry tirade down the phone in a foreign language. I suppose filling Ethan in on what’s been going on, while also giving him an earful for being out of reach. After several minutes she hangs up.
“You got him then,” I say.
“Yeah. He’ll be here in five minutes. Come along, we’ll meet him in the car park.”
Delilah doesn’t seem bothered by the frosty cold temperature outside as we wait for Ethan in the half empty car park. I, on the other hand, am wearing a big fleecy jacket and am still freezing cold. I pull it tighter around me. A moment later Ethan’s recognizable Cadillac pulls into the night club, stopping in the spot just by the back door where we’re standing.
He smoothly slides out of the car and immediately walks up to his sister, again the two talk in hushed foreign tones. I roll my eyes, I can’t be dealing with all of this drama and intrigue right now. There’s no way I’m missing work tomorrow because of this, I’m in desperate need of my pay check this week.
All of that worry seems to disappear from my brain the moment Ethan approaches me, placing his hand on the small of my back.
“I appreciate you doing this,” he whispers, and all I can do is nod and look away in response. Ethan laughs softly. “So what’s our story then?” he asks.
I clear my throat, looking at Delilah for some help, but she just nods her head to me while checking her messages on her phone, as if to urge me on. “Well, um, we decided to just say that you spent the night at my place with me.” I answer finally.
Thankfully, Ethan doesn’t decide to take advantage of my embarrassment. “Sounds good to me,” he replies. “By the way, I did call to your apartment yesterday, but got no answer. You must have been out.”
“I wasn’t feeling well.” I say quietly.
“Oh – well I hope you’re better now,” he says, eyeing me closely, half concern, half something else.
I tell him I am and we continue on inside the club and to his office where Dru is still waiting outside the door.
“Decided to drop by did we,” she says to Ethan sarcastically, with a cocked eyebrow.
“I was unaware of the circumstances,” Ethan answers her simply before stepping by into his office, leading me in with him, Delilah heavy on our heels. Inside there are two stocky male vampires, who I presume are Herrington’s other bodyguards. Both wear all black, just like Dru outside. Then I see Herrington himself and understand why Marcel and Gabriel had found him funny. If ever there was a vampire version of Danny De Vito then this would be him. At less than five foot tall with a round head topped with balding jet black hair, he’s the spitting image of the comedy actor.
His wife Antonia, on the other hand, is tall and slim with pale white blond hair styled into a neat bun at the top her head. They make the quintessential odd couple, and if you didn’t look into the cold, hard, cruel jade green eyes of Antonia Herrington you’d almost wonder how Howard ever managed to keep hold of his leadership position. He doesn’t exactly command respect, and his body language suggests that he himself is truly tired of always being on guard. Like a dictator who’s sick of continually having to watch his back for fear of traitors. Just like Caesar.
Yeah, my bet would be that the wife is the driving force behind this power couple, her ambition propelling him into waters he’d prefer not to thread if he had any choice in the matter. The two stand by Ethan’s desk as we enter.
“Howard, Antonia, please take a seat,” says Ethan, with a welcoming hand gesture as he makes his way to sit down at his desk.
The two sit and Ethan follows. I remain standing off to the side of the room with Delilah. Antonia’s eyes immediately dart to me, she turns her head to the side, as though sniffing the air. “Why is the human present?” she asks, in a voice as sharp and lethal as razor blades. I just about wince at the sound of it.
“This is Tegan. She’s with me.” Ethan answers, and Antonia nods as though that is explanation enough.
Howard seems preoccupied, and it’s Antonia who speaks first. “As I’m sure you’ve heard,” she begins, casting a quick assessing glance in Delilah’s direction. “We had an intruder enter our home last night. Somehow this person managed to bypass our guards, breach all of our security measures, and enter the Governor’s study where he had been going through paperwork. If it weren’t for the fact that a maid entered and found the masked intruder standing behind Howard with a stake in hand, my dear husband would not be here with us right now.”
“Was this person apprehended?” Ethan asks, his expression unreadable.
“No, sadly not.” Howard answers, speaking up for the very first time, in an accent that sounds odd, disjointed as though from a very different era. “He got away before my guards could catch him, which is why we theorise that he was of our kind. Otherwise he would not have been able to outrun them.”
“Ah,” says Ethan. “So you are here to question if it was I who arranged this – intrusion.”
“It is necessary,” replies Howard. “No offence is to be taken, and I will not entertain such a reaction if it is. My guards have already questioned your staff, most of whom were here working at the time of the attack. Therefore, we have now only to establish your own innocence before we can be on our way.”
“Very well, I have nothing to hide,” says Ethan, clasping both palms together. When he says this it makes me wonder if in fact he was behind the attack on Herrington, but then I remember the fond way in which he referred to the Governor on Saturday night. Like an old friend. No, it couldn’t have been Ethan, he seems to like Howard far too much to try and have him murdered. Then again, people do a lot of irrational things in the quest for power. I wonde
r if telling this little white lie will be more trouble than it’s worth. “Exactly what time was it that the attack took place?” he asks after a pause.
“Between two-thirty and three-o’clock this morning,” says Howard, watching Ethan’s reaction very closely.
“Ah, well. This will all be very easy to clear up then,” says Ethan in a breezy tone. “I was with Tegan all last night, wasn’t I beautiful?” he continues, his steel blue gaze boring into me.
“Yes, that’s right.” I answer, trying to sound as carefree as possible.
Howard looks to me for a brief moment, and then back to Ethan. They stare at each other for a long minute, as though communicating telepathically. Maybe the really old vamps can do that.
“You have my permission,” says Ethan to Howard, despite the fact that nothing was asked permission for by the Governor. At least not out loud.
Howard turns to me, and I guess he’s going to use his compulsion to get the truth out of me. I mentally prepare myself to put on an act as though mildly hypnotised. But, just as he’s opening his mouth and focusing his eyes on mine somebody comes storming through the door. Lucas. He pulls a bedraggled man into the office by the scruff of the neck, throwing him into the centre of the room.
“What’s all this?” demands Herrington.
“He’s just some random homeless guy I think,” Lucas answers. “But he’s been put under some sort of spell, he came running up to the entrance of the club while I was working the door and began demanding he be seen by Governor Herrington. Said he’s got a message from the Sorcerer Theodore.”
At the mention of the name Howard instantly pales. “He’s lying,” he says in a small voice. “Theodore hasn’t been seen in Tribane for decades. He’s – he’s long dead.”
Suddenly the tramp sputters saliva and begins rambling in a strange, unnatural, distorted voice that sends shivers down my spine. “Theodore is back. My message is to you Governor Howard Herrington, Vampire leader of Tribane. The Sorcerer Theodore has come to take your territory from you. He has already shown how easy it is for him to gain access to your private home. If you do not surrender your title to him within the next thirteen days there will be a mighty war, a war you will lose.”
