by L.H. Cosway
Marcel laughs. “What’s it to you how I talk to her,” he replies. “You know her what, a week? You have no clue of the kind of woman you are befriending, Tegan.”
I don’t know where my sudden anger comes from, maybe it’s a build-up of being told what to do these past couple of weeks. Hell, maybe I’m just hot-headed. Nonetheless, I continue to speak out. “Don’t tell me what I know and don’t know, it doesn’t matter how long I’ve known her, and to be honest it’s none of your business. But speak to her in that undermining tone again and you’ll see just how much you don’t want to offend me.”
Marcel’s laugh deepens, holds a hint of anger. “Are you threatening me, little girl? Are you stupid? You know what I am, and yet you presume to spout threats?”
“Listen, everyone just calm down,” Gabriel interrupts, the voice of reason, pulling Marcel aside and whispering something quickly in his ear. Finn appears delighted with the drama. I sigh.
“You’re just loving this, aren’t you?” I say to him.
He smiles widely, showing straight white teeth. “Yeah, just a little bit.”
“Are you forgetting who it was that saved your life not too long ago?” I spit.
Finn’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “If I remember correctly, you were all too quick to declare you had no decisive part in that incident.”
Rita nudges me, and tells me quietly. “Don’t bother defending me, Marcel’s been treating me like crap for years. It’s water off a duck’s back, really, don’t fall out with him over me. I’m sure you need this job.” Her voice quietly urging me to calm down, to be practical. And yeah, she’s right, I do need this job. But do I want it? Is it worth selling out for? Becoming my bosses’ guinea pig? Probably not. I think I’ve just had an epiphany. This crap really isn’t worth it.
Marcel steps forward then, after speaking with Gabriel in hushed tones. “I apologise, Tegan, I was out of line.”
“It’s not me you should be apologising to, Marcel, I’m not the one you’ve been rude to since day one.” At this I link my arm through Rita’s, to show exactly whose side I’m on. There’s something in Gabriel’s expression that tells me he respects me more for sticking to my guns and not giving in to Marcel. It doesn’t make any sense, since he was clearly the one who advised Marcel to apologise.
Marcel coughs, but doesn’t venture to make amends with Rita.
“Oh God, are you so bigoted you can’t even attempt to be civil to her? You know what, I don’t want to work for someone like you Marcel. You can stick your job where the sun doesn’t shine. I’d rather starve than work for a stuck up elitist.”
“You can’t just quit,” Marcel hisses. “We have an arrangement.”
“We do? I don’t remember signing anything, so quite frankly you can go shove your arrangement somewhere nasty. Come on Rita,” I say, turning to leave the shop. Rita looks at me questioningly, as though she doesn’t fully understand why I’m walking out of a perfectly good job. To be honest, I don’t understand it myself. All I know is that I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t work in a world my mother tried so hard to protect me from. I need to get out while I’m still breathing.
We’re just outside the door when Gabriel comes running out, Finn following casually behind. No sign of Marcel though, clearly he’s too proud to lower himself to come after me.
“Tegan, wait,” Gabriel calls, I turn around and stand there, waiting for whatever it is he wants to say to me. Rita fidgets awkwardly, obviously wishing she was anywhere else but here.
“I’m not going to try to convince you to continue working here, because it’s clear you’ve had reservations for a while now, Marcel’s behaviour was just the catalyst, but at least let me pay you for the last week and half.” Gabriel says, pleadingly.
“Shouldn’t Marcel be the one to pay me?” I retort. “He is the boss, after all. I know you’re trying to be nice, because that’s just who you are Gabriel, but I’m not going to take your money. I’m sorry.”
At this I turn and walk away, my arm still linked through Rita’s. I hear footsteps following behind us. Thinking it’s Gabriel, I turn around, but it isn’t, it’s Finn. Gabriel has disappeared back inside the shop.
“What do you want?” I ask in a cutting tone.
“I know what happened with Herrington at Crimson last night, and I know you were there.” He tells me in a smug voice.
“How – how do you know that?” I ask, stunned.
“I have my informants,” is all he says.
“So, why are you telling me this, so what if I was there, what’s your point?”
“Two things,” says Finn. “One, you still haven’t learned your lesson to stay away from the vamps, silly girl. And two, well, there’s been a development and I’m sure you don’t know about it yet since you’ve spent the last hour having some sort of Goth chick get together with witchy-pants here.”
Rita glares but doesn’t say anything.
“Anyway,” Finn continues. “There’s been a rumour going round today that the Sorcerer Theodore has returned to Tribane, I assume you’ve since learned who that is.” He says, eyeing Rita.
“Yeah, so what. I’ve known about that rumour since last night. It’s old news.” I tell him.
Finn laughs. “You’re a hostile one, aren’t you? But yes, I know that you know about that, but that’s not what I came here to tell Marcel, something else has happened. I just thought you’d like to hear it first before the vamps come for you, since they need every advantage they can get now.”
My heart freezes. “What are you talking about?”
“Herrington was murdered last night on the grounds of his estate, shortly after he returned home from Crimson. He’s survived by his wife who has taken temporary control of his position as Governor,” he answers happily.
“But – but the homeless guy, he said Herrington had thirteen days before Theodore took action.”
“Clearly,” says Finn, “that was just a spoof to lead Herrington off the scent. Clearly,” he repeats, “Theodore had no intention of giving Herrington that long to prepare. It’s like when you go to get an injection as a kid and the nurse asks you some benign question to distract you from the fact that she’s about to stick a big scary needle into your arm.”
Speechless, I step back and sit on a nearby window ledge.
“Why would the vampires need me?” I ask, knowing full well why, but curious as to what Finn thinks.
“Cristescu is obviously smitten,” says Finn with distaste. “But is that genuine, or simply because he thinks you’re something he can use to his advantage? Well, now that his Governor’s been murdered he’ll be grabbing every weapon he can. You being one of them.”
I look at Rita, consider asking if I can stay with her so that Ethan can’t find me, I can’t risk him discovering the truth. Even if I am half in love with him already, that doesn’t necessarily mean I trust him. But no, I can’t involve Rita in all of this. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her while I was staying at her house. And she has her mother to think of. I put my head in my hands, clueless as to what I should do. There’s only so many hours of daylight left for me to find a safe haven.
Rita coughs. “Um, Tegan, I’m sorry to have to do this, but I’m supposed to be meeting Alvie in ten minutes, so I’ve got to go.”
I glance up. “That’s okay Rita, you go. I’ll call you later.”
She nods, a look of worry on her face, before she turns and jogs away up the street.
“Well, well, well,” Finns chimes. “Doesn’t that just leave poor little you all by your lonesome.”
A tear threatens to trickle out of the corner of my eye before I blink it away and gather myself. “You’ve said your piece, now leave me alone Finn.” I stand up and make my way down the street. Finn follows along beside me.
“Aw, come on, I was just kidding. Aren’t you gonna thank me for warning you about all this? Marcel thought we should keep you in the dark, you know. It was
Gabriel and I who decided you should be told.”
I stop and look at him. “Thank you.” I hiss. “Now, goodbye.” I speed walk away, but Finn continues to follow me.
“You can’t just go home,” he says, skipping along. “That’s the first place Cristescu’s gonna look for you as soon as the sun goes down. You’ll have to think of somewhere better than that.”
“I have a friend I can stay with.” I answer sharply.
“And that’s the second place he’ll look, come on Tegan, you’re smarter than that.” He chides.
I stop swiftly and stand in front of him, our faces mere inches away. “You seem to know everything, where would you suggest I go?” I ask him through a tight jaw.
“Well, that all depends, did you ever mention to Cristescu the fact that I showed up at your place the night after he slaughtered my whole squad?”
I think a moment, try to clear my hazy mind, then I remember. “No. No I didn’t.”
“So he’d never make a connection between the two of us?” he continues to question me.
“No, I don’t think so,” I answer.
“That’s perfect,” he grins. “You can come stay with me until this all blows over.”
I glance at him in suspicion. “What? You want to help me now?” I ask in disbelief.
Finn smiles. “Of course I want to help you. I’m a nice guy,” a smirk, “and nice guys help damsels in distress.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know there’ll probably be a catch somewhere down the road, but I guess you’re the best bet I have right now.”
“So you agree to come stay at my place?” he asks, seemingly surprised I gave in so quickly.
I let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, even though it will most likely be my downfall.”
Finn ignores my dejection. “Good stuff,” he says, in an upbeat manner, before whipping his phone out of his pocket and dialling a number.
“Gabe, hey. Yeah everything’s fine,” Finn speaks into the phone. “I’m gonna bring her back to the house, make sure she’s off vamp territory.” A pause while he listens. “Yeah, okay, talk to you later.” Then he signs off.
“You called Gabriel?” I ask, as Finn slips the phone back into his pocket.
“He was worried about you,” Finn answers simply. “I told him I’d make sure you were kept safe. Come on,” he continues. “My car’s parked this way.” I follow him to a side street, where a nondescript black van is parked, it bears a similar personalised licence plate to the green van from before, the letters DOH in among the numbers. I feel strange and a little bit traitorous climbing into it.
Finn drives for ten minutes or so in silence, out towards a residential area past the North side of the Hawthorn River. The housing estate he turns into is in a working class area. The houses are a little worn but well-built and well preserved by their owners.
“Here we are,” he announces, as he pulls into the driveway of a red brick house with a brightly painted blue door. The lawn is slightly overgrown. He puts the car in park and we get out.
“This is your house?” I ask curiously.
“Nah, it belongs to my friend Noel, he lets me rent a room. He’s higher up in the organisation than I am, then again, he is near fifteen years my senior.”
“Oh.” I reply, monosyllabic, as Finn turns his key in the lock and an unusually large golden brown and black German Shepard comes running out from around the side of the house. Barking and yapping in joy as he spots Finn. I go still. Big dogs make me nervous.
“Hey Wolf,” says Finn, giving the dog a pat on the head and scruffing his neck. I slip into the hall and press myself up against the wall. Finn laughs.
“Don’t tell me the girl who hangs out with vampires is afraid of a pup like Wolf here,” he says mockingly.
“If you were only five foot five you’d be wary of big dogs too. Jesus, he’s almost the same height as me.”
Another laugh from Finn. “Ah, don’t worry he doesn’t bite. He might bump you in the side, but he won’t cause any lasting damage.”
My face pales. “What?”
“You really need to learn how to take a joke, love,” says Finn, shaking his head and leading me into the kitchen, Wolf sauntering on ahead of us.
“You hungry boy?” Finn asks the dog, pulling a big bag of dog biscuits out from under the sink. He pours them into a bowl by the back door and Wolf sits himself down and digs in.
“Will you have a cup of tea?” Finn asks, it takes me a second to realise he’s talking to me. I’m still staring at Wolf, wide-eyed and anxious.
“Y-yes, thank you.” I answer finally.
“We only have the regular stuff here so don’t go asking for a bloody peppermint lemon explosion or whatever it is people drink these days.”
“Normal tea is fine,” I tell him.
He eyes me. “Calm down, will you. He’s not gonna go near you as long as you don’t go near him. It’s the mini dogs you need to beware of, they’re the vicious ones.”
“I think I’ll keep my distance all the same.”
Finn tuts and goes about making the tea. When he’s finished he carries the two cups alongside a plate of biscuits into the living room next door. Strangely hospitable for a vampire slayer. The furnishings are old but homely and I sit down on the cream and brown couch, shirking my coat off.
Finn watches me as he stirs a spoonful of sugar into his cup. “You’ve got good skin,” he comments, eyes fixed on my bare arms, I regret having decided to wear this slinky little silk top this morning. Who knows when I’ll next get the chance to go home and change.
I cough. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Finn replies, taking a sip of tea, blowing away the steam.
“Right.” I say, suddenly extra self-conscious.
Wolf plods into the room and sits down in front of the fire place. I pick up my tea and take a big long gulp, it burns as it goes down. I think of my little grubby apartment and begin to panic, since the rent is due next week and I’ve just walked out of my job. Oh God. Why do I have to be so spontaneous? So easily provoked into anger?
“So,” I begin. “How did you get into the slaying business, Finn?” I smile, and pick up a biscuit from the plate sitting on the coffee table.
“Is that your idea of small talk?” he smirks.
I shrug. “Well, what do you suggest we talk about, I mean, exactly how long am I going to be stuck here? We have to do something to pass the time.”
“Come upstairs with me then, I know a couple fun things we could do,” says Finn, a suggestive smile on his lips.
“I thought you didn’t like Goth chicks?” I retort, suppressing certain long untended to urges.
“I don’t,” he replies. “But get you out of those clothes and I might be able to overlook that.”
“Fuck you.” I slam my cup down on the table, grab my coat and make to leave. Finn catches me at the door, pulls the coat out of my grip and throws it back onto the couch. One hand holding onto my wrist the other slammed into the curve of my shoulder. This close I can smell him, clean and healthy and – Jesus, I really need to control myself.
I look up into his eyes. “Let go of me,” I tell him through gritted teeth.
His eyelids lower. “Your skin,” he says in a quiet voice. The hand on my shoulder loosens, he rubs a thumb gently over the flesh there. I suppress a shudder.
“You really need to get a hold on this fetish of yours,” I spit. “Because this is the second time you’ve mentioned my skin, and it’s beginning to creep me out.”
Finn shakes himself. “No, fuck, it’s not a fetish it’s just,” he looks down at the hand that’s holding tightly onto my wrist. “Well, yeah, I’ve got a thing for soft skin, and yours, it’s beautiful.”
I swallow, and his eyes are glued to my neck. “Let go of me Finn,” I tell him again in a firm voice.
He bites his lip and then releases me. “I’m sorry,” he apologises. “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you. Please sit down and finish your t
ea.”
“It’s probably gone cold by now,” I reply, but sit down nonetheless.
“I’ll make us another then,” says Finn, before picking up our cups and going out to the kitchen to put the kettle on again, probably an excuse to avoid the awkward tension. I stand up and go over to look at the pictures on the mantelpiece. There’s one hanging above on the wall, like a class photo except all of the men and women are wearing strange black uniforms. Slayer uniforms, I realise. What am I looking at, some kind of killer’s graduation ceremony? Jesus.
On the mantel is a picture in a dark wood frame of Finn grinning into the camera with an older man beside him, they look like they’re at a barbecue. Perhaps the older guy is that friend he mentioned who owns this house, Noel. Quite the silver fox if I do say so myself. Like a mix between Jeremy Irons and Pierce Brosnan.
Pity he’s a head honcho with the DOH, I can tell his job is pretty important since his black uniform has two red stripes on the left arm and several medals over the breast. Those sorts of distinctions are usually worn to say, Hi there, I’ve done a lot of good things for my country, if you’re in the army. I suppose with the slayers it says, Hey, look how many evil creatures of the night I’ve slaughtered in the name of protecting the human race.
I jump when I hear a cup clink down onto the coffee table. Finn is one of those silent movers, I didn’t even hear him step back inside. That kind of talent probably comes in handy in his line of work. I turn around and dust myself down, despite being free of any dust.
“Is that Noel?” I ask, pointing at the picture I’d been looking at.
“Yeah. He’s my superior,” he laughs. “And sort of my best friend, in a fatherly kind of way. He’s a great man.”
“I can see that from the medals,” I reply, with maybe a fraction too much sarcasm.
Finn sits down, mug in hand, and eyes me for a moment. “You really are on their side, aren’t you?”
“I’m on nobody’s side but my own Finn, think of me as a slightly hostile version of Switzerland. Neutral, with a mild distaste for both sides.”
“Yeah, and a mild attraction to one side,” he replies, giving me a run for my money in the sarcasm stakes.
