by Massey,M. D.
Moreover, if you know anything about glaistigs, you know that they are not naturally top-heavy. Your average glaistig, like most fae, will lean more toward the tall, nimble, Scandinavian model-looking type. Obviously, the poor girl had inherited her bra size from the human side of the family. So, Sabine was teased for her looks both among humans and by her mother’s kind as well.
Naturally, I made it my mission to become her friend. One underdog to another, I started rooting for her from the moment we met. It took me a while, because she was damned skittish, but finally I coaxed her into joining me for coffee at La Crème. Since I had a supernatural ability to look women in the eye no matter what they looked like or how low their neckline is—a skill drilled into me by my very traditional Irish mother and refined by the very tough and traditionally feminist love of my life—I was able to keep up the charade that I couldn’t see through her glamour for the next several weeks.
By which time, I might add, we’d become fast friends. I found her to be smart, charming, and absolutely hilarious. Sabine had a rapier wit, and when she chose to reveal it she could cut even the most arrogant and self-important asshole down to size. At first she was angry with me for not telling her that I was immune to her glamour, but then she realized that I didn’t care what she looked like one bit. I liked her for who she was, not what she was, and I think that realization kept her from bolting for the door when she found me out.
So, Sabine became my supernatural confidante, one of the few people in my life I could talk to about supernatural matters without being asked if I was off my meds. Mom had never been clued in, so I couldn’t talk to her, and I wasn’t really on speaking terms with Finn. All Belladonna ever wanted to do was speak in double-entendres, with the occasional interlude to describe her latest assignment, so no dice there. Anyway, for the most part I tried to stay away from Bells, not just because I was trying to stay out of supernatural affairs, but also because I just wasn’t ready for a relationship of any kind.
That was the other benefit to having a bestie who was actually a drop-dead gorgeous fae. Belladonna, who could also see through Sabine’s glamour, just assumed we were sleeping together and that the reverse glamour was my idea as a jealous boyfriend—and for my part I did nothing to dissuade her from that assumption. And Belladonna, while being a very liberated, modern woman, was nothing if not honorable. So, while she respected the boundaries of my supposed relationship with Sabine, I got a break from Belladonna’s full court press. All-in-all, it was a rather neat arrangement. And Sabine, being Sabine, was absolutely clueless regarding the whole deal.
Yeah, it was messed up. But then again, so was my life.
Sure enough, the text was from Sabine.
1st day of class. Don’t b l8.
According to my phone, I still had time to stop by La Crème on the way. It was too late to head out back to shower, because I could already hear the early crew moving around in the warehouse. I grabbed my shaving kit and ducked into the bathroom, settling for a sponge bath, a quick shave, and a rather thorough round of dental hygiene. I put on a pair of nearly clean jeans, a fresh t-shirt, my leather jacket, and some kicks. Finally, I grabbed my Craneskin Bag out of the only warded space in the room, my foot locker, and slung it over my shoulder before heading out.
Before leaving my room, I picked up Jesse’s photo from the shelf by the door and kissed it lightly. “First day of school, babe. Wish me luck.”
As I headed out to the parking lot to hop on my vintage, slightly beat up Vespa, my mom’s cousin Ed yelled at me from the office. Ed owned the place, and he was the reason I wasn’t living in my mom’s basement at the moment. I jogged up to the door to see what he wanted.
Ed sat behind his desk, as usual. He was a rather rotund man, balding, with a mustache that looked like a fuzzy caterpillar had taken up residence on his upper lip. A nearly constant pissed off demeanor served as his happy mode. You only had to worry about Ed when he stopped yelling and screaming at people.
“Hey, Colin, anything happen last night? The dogs were acting weird when I came in, and there was some blood on the floor in the warehouse.”
I shook my head. “Nothing major, Ed. Finn got messed up again, and fell and cut himself coming over the fence. I cleaned him up in the bathroom and got him settled into his van. No biggie.”
As evidence of how big-hearted Ed actually was, he put up with letting Finn sleep in a junked van in the back of the yard. Truth was, Finn could be handy with getting old cars to run, when he wasn’t messed up on smack. So Ed let him stay, in exchange for helping us flip used cars. But Ed also knew about Finn’s habits, and chose to look the other way so long as he didn’t bring any drugs on the premises.
Ed frowned and shook his head. “I know he’s related to you by your dad and all, but that old man’s going to get himself killed one of these days. You ought to see about getting him some help, before—you know.”
“I know. Believe me, I know. But he’s just not ready to get cleaned up yet. I’ll keep trying, Ed—I owe him that.”
Ed waved with the back of his hand and sighed through his nose. “Damned shame. He’s good with a wrench, and I could use him around here full-time if he was clean. Speaking of which—”
He pulled an envelope from the desk and tossed it to me frisbee-style. I snatched it out of the air. “That’s pay for this period.”
“Ed, it’s not payday yet.”
He waved again and tried to look like a hard-ass. “Yeah, but I know you got school starting, and you need books and stuff. So I figured I’d give you an advance.” Then, with a stern look, he pointed a single fat finger at me. “But don’t think you aren’t going to work it off this week.”
It went without saying. “Thanks, Ed. Speaking of which, the Odyssey is the only one from the latest bunch that’s worth wrenching on—the rest are all going to be parts cars.”
“Alright, I’ll let the crew know. Now, get out of here and go learn something, so you don’t have to work for me for the rest of your life.”
He gave me a dismissive wave and turned his attention to his computer monitor. I smiled and tucked the check into my back pocket, and headed off to get some coffee before class.
5
Journal Entry—Eight Months, Fourteen Days A.J.
It’s Valentine’s Day. God, I miss her so much.
-McC
Austin, Texas—Present Day
My friend Luther’s coffee shop was a kind of frou-frou, upscale cafe located right at the edge of SoCo and downtown, where the local jet-setting movers and shakers who inhabited the expensive downtown district liked to slum it up with the people who made up the true heart of Austin; the hippies, artists, musicians, and hipsters who did a damned fine job of keeping Austin weird.
La Crème was a favorite hangout for grad students who lived off-campus, for office workers who needed a few minutes away from their daily bustle, for decision-makers and power-brokers who tried to look chic while they closed on multi-million dollar deals, and for all the struggling writers, musicians, and artists who could barely afford to live in Austin proper anymore because of the property tax hikes the wealthy people in Austin voted for each election cycle.
Oh, and it was a favorite hangout for folks who were read in on the world beneath. I knew I was supposed to be staying away from that sort of thing. But Luther poured a mean cold-brew and he always saved me a cup, even when they sold out. Plus, Luther was a vampire, and the de facto leader of the vampires in Austin. He was also a fixture in the local LGBTQ community, so La Crème was pretty much a place where everyone was welcome to hang out.
Luther was a very old vampire, and like a lot of older vamps he might have swung either way, depending on which century it was. When you’re nearly immortal you tend to try new things, which meant a lot of older vamps were pretty accepting of so-called alternate lifestyles. And, like most of vampire society in Austin, Luther had become heavily involved in the gay and lesbian community in the last several decades.
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And just why would a three-hundred-year-old vampire choose to blend in among the LGBTQ community? Well, to put it in Luther’s words, “Honey, nobody screws with the Velvet Mafia. No one. I’m a gay black man, and a vampire. That gets me a lot of enemies. But for the first time in history I can live a public life, and not have to worry about being singled out for being gay or found out for being a vamp. So hooray for strength in numbers.”
When I’d first heard him say that, I informed him that he was showing his age, because no one called it “The Velvet Mafia” anymore—and that there was no such thing as the “gay mafia,” anyway. Luther disagreed.
“It’s everywhere now, sugar. The gay community is out of the closet and marching down Main Street. And they protect their own. What better community and culture for my kind to hide in, and in plain sight, than among a group of people who never question the way anyone talks, or dresses, or who they keep company with, or why they’re never seen outdoors in the daytime? Most queers are natural night owls and party animals anyway. So we vampires fit right in, and no one pays us any mind at all.”
I had to admit, the overall strategy of hiding in plain sight that the vampire community had adopted was brilliant beyond belief. And, I couldn’t fault them for just wanting to be left alone. Besides, it worked. Now that they had a good thing going they policed their own, which cut down considerably on vamps killing humans. Unlike their more barbaric Nosferatu brethren, higher order vamps could control their prey drive. Most of them either fed via private blood banks, or they made arrangements with their human lovers to feed. All of this helped maintain the uneasy truce they kept with the Cold Iron Circle, which was what passed for the supernatural police in these parts.
Not only was Luther solid for a good cup of joe, he was also a damned good guy to have in your corner when you needed it. As an important figure in the local vamp community, he more or less kept the Circle off my case. Last year, I’d helped him with a nosferatu problem that was bringing a little too much heat on the vamps, and since then he’d always had my back.
Soon after I’d helped him get rid of the nos’, the harassment I’d been getting from the Circle stopped, and suddenly I didn’t have to look over my shoulder anymore. For decades, the vamp community had kept an uneasy peace with the Circle, and both sides preferred to keep it that way. So when I came under Luther’s protection, that was that. They still saw me as a major threat, but since there hadn’t been another “incident,” they’d mostly backed off and left me alone. Which was fine by me. But, it didn’t mean that I didn’t still occasionally get harassed by those assholes, either.
So, Luther and I were cooler than cool. That was, so long as none of his vampires stepped over the line.
I parked my Vespa in my usual spot—right up on the sidewalk—and walked inside La Crème, nodding to Luther as I entered. When he saw me, he gave me a funny look and kind of tilted his head toward the back room. Me being the clueless person I was, who never picked up on social cues and subtlety, simply gave him a puzzled look back and walked up to the counter to order.
“I’ll have my usual, Luther.”
He rolled his eyes and sighed, right about the time I heard Belladonna’s whiskey voice coming from the back room.
“Well, look at this tall drink of water who just walked in. Hello, loverboy.”
Dressed in her usual tight leather pants, clingy tank top, biker jacket, and high-heeled biker boots, Belladonna was vampier than any of Luther’s friends by far. Her dark, luscious hair somehow managed to pick up a breeze as she sashayed up to me (I suspected a cantrip at play). She smiled seductively as she leaned in and tugged at the lapel of my coat with a single, perfectly manicured finger. How she managed to kill all those monsters without ever breaking a nail was beyond me, but her French manicure was flawless.
“Since you’re still avoiding me, McCool, then I take it you’re also still seeing that half-fae cow, Sabine?”
I leaned back and plucked her hand from my collar. “Now now, be nice, Belladonna. Sabine is a sweet girl, and she’s very sensitive about her looks.”
“Oh, honey, I know she’s not around. And if she was, I’d never step on her toes anyway. I may be forward, but I do respect certain boundaries.” She tsked and catwalked around me, trailing a finger across my body as she stalked her prey.
“And besides, you’ve never shown any interest in me at all. Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you have a thing for Luther here.” Belladonna pouted and stuck out her lower lip as she completed her circuit, ending it standing uncomfortably close to me once more.
Luther stifled a laugh at her last remark, since he knew I wasn’t bi-curious in the slightest. Even so, he held his tongue as he prepared my cold brew behind the counter. Luther knew that I was attracted to Belladonna—very much so, in fact—but that I was old-fashioned in a way that only a traditional Protestant upbringing and a very limited experience with women can produce. Not that I held Belladonna’s sexual freedom against her; far from it, in fact. I actually envied her ability to let her inner animal loose, as it were.
No, it was just that I had experienced the kind of love that most people only dream about, and quite frankly I wasn’t about to try to replace it with 3:00 a.m. booty calls and a polyamorous sleeping arrangement. Especially not when I had feelings for her; confused feelings, but feelings nonetheless. Belladonna had helped me through some rough times, and she’d taken a lot of shit from the Circle for being my friend. She was a better hunter than most, but had been passed over again and again for leadership positions because of her refusal to end our friendship. I felt like I owed her more than just being a casual hook-up.
Like I said, call me old-fashioned.
But it didn’t mean that I wasn’t tempted. Belladonna might have earned a bit of a reputation for being fast, but the mileage didn’t show on her in the slightest. And for an introverted person like myself, the absolute flattery of having a woman like that come onto you was almost overwhelming. Almost. But I’d long ago decided that it was probably best we remain friends.
C’est l’amour.
I decided to play it cool. “Belladonna, you are and always will be one of my dearest friends. But right now, I am fully committed to someone else.” My dead ex, in fact. “And the timing just isn’t right for us. So, please—respect my wishes. Let’s not screw up our friendship with cheap, meaningless sex.”
She smiled a wicked smile that somehow morphed into a sultry little moue of disappointment. Damn, but that woman knew how to turn it on.
“Oh, it wouldn’t be meaningless, I can assure you of that,” she said. “You’d be unpacking the experience for months after it happened, and pondering the many personal realizations uncovered by achieving that level of ecstasy—perhaps for years to come.” She released the subtle pout of her lips ever so slightly, then stepped back just enough to signal a temporary detente. “But I suppose it can wait for another time.”
I smiled and barely withheld a relieved sigh. “Thanks. Now, I know you’re never up this early unless you pulled an all-nighter or you need an assist on a tough gig. What’s up?”
She was all business now, and switched gears without missing a beat. “Might be nothing, but we’ve been investigating some murders that look suspiciously like ’thropes are involved. I might need some help looking into it, if another body pops up tonight.”
“Hmmm… Crowley can’t do it?”
Crowley was supposed to be her partner, a Circle wizard on the fast track to management before he’d hit thirty. The Circle always paired a hunter and a wizard, knowing that each partner’s strengths complimented the other. Most weren’t like me, druid-trained in both magic and physical combat. Of course, I was limited to the basics of magic—mostly wards and cantrips that were good for investigative work and B&E, but not much else. Still, it did the trick.
She scowled at the mention of Crowley. “No, that prick is still pissed that I broke it off with him. I told him that if we slept tog
ether it was just going to be a way to pass the time on stakeouts, but he had to go and fall in love with me. The jackass.”
Luther chimed in as he set my drink down on the counter. “Tell me about it. Some men just don’t know what’s good for them.” He flashed me an accusatory look as he wiped down the counter.
She glanced over at Luther and gave him a nod. “You got that right. See, Luther here has his priorities straight. You sure you don’t swing hetero every now and again, babe?”
He looked her up and down and gave his best Mae West grin. “Not in the last hundred years or so, but in your case I might be tempted, sweet thing.”
That seemed to lift her spirits, and when she smiled it lit up the room. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Luther. Thank you.”
Then she leaned in and surprised me with a quick peck on the cheek, before I even knew what was happening. Damn, but she was quick. Her fingers lightly dragged across my chest as she turned to walk away.
“Keep your phone on tonight, Colin. If you hear from me, it won’t be for a booty call.” Luther and I both watched her departure as she walked out the back door, her perfect figure and graceful gait garnering stares from male and female patrons alike.
Luther shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Mmm-mmm, but that woman knows how to make an exit. Almost makes me want to go straight for a while, to explore the joys and wonders of the Kama Sutra with her for a decade or two.”
He looked at me and chuckled. “You better have your health insurance paid up, if you ever decide to take her up on that standing offer.”
I tilted my head and arched an eyebrow. “I might, if I thought the arrangement would be exclusive.”
