by D. R. Perry
“Um, maybe I’m denser than lead or something, but I don’t get what you’re saying, dude.” I got up and walked over to my friend, the best guitarist I’d ever collaborated with, and put my hand on his shoulder. “Just lay it out as plain and simple as you can.”
“All right, Lane.” Matt managed to look me in the eye, although he trembled. He took a deep breath. “I’m gay.”
“Okay.” I squeezed his shoulder.
“Okay?” He blinked. Everyone else on the boat nodded, either grinning or smiling. “You mean, none of you have a problem with that?”
“No. Why would we?” I grinned. Murmurs of support and approval sprouted around us like blossoms on the branches of friendship. “You’re our friend, Matt. Besides, this is the twenty-first century. We’re all out about drinking blood and our sun allergies, so why not this? You be you, man.” I clapped him on the shoulder one more time, then dropped my arm.
“Thanks.” The smile started in Matt’s eyes, and I knew he’d checked our answers with his lie-detecting power. It made sense to me. I’d have done the same thing if I’d been in his shoes. I blinked, not sure whether I was all misty-eyed from the feels or the salt spray on the deck. We’d all grown from these cockamamie experiences, and not apart, either. Together.
“Can I quote you guys on that?” Margot stepped up beside me, her pen hovering over a notepad too sodden to write on.
“You can quote me on anything you’ve heard this weekend.” I chuckled. “And whatever I say over coffee tomorrow night, too. That is if you’ll agree to go out with me?”
“Anytime, Lane.” It was Margot’s turn to chuckle. “Anytime.” The coolness of her lips as she pressed them to my cheek felt like the intro to the greatest and best song in the world.
Chapter Fifteen
Better Off Undead
I headed down Thayer Street, nodding at Jack and Della in the window of Blue State Coffee. After that, I went up Camp to get to Hope. I had to meet everyone over at the Dennisons’ and wasn’t sure what to expect. When I got there, I turned up the driveway, passing what looked like brass gates. I thought that was weird until I remembered Josh and Nox were mates and Ren intended to keep trying to win Beth back. Having the traditional wrought-iron would have put any faeries spending time here in danger.
“Hey.” Margot met me at the top of the drive and slipped her hand into mine, then led me along the side of the house to a door. We entered and went down a flight of stairs to find ourselves in a basement rec room. It had a bar, a billiards table, sofas, and a TV with game systems hooked up. Blaine and Kimiko were playing one of those guitar games, and she was kicking his butt. Josh cleared his throat but let them finish their match.
“Okay, so, now’s when we fill each other in and give all the data to LORA.” Josh gestured at empty seats, glancing at me, Margot, Blaine, and Kimiko. Everyone else was already sitting down. Well, except for Henry and Maddie. They were peering from a laptop on the bar, Skyping from Vermont. Once I sat, Josh spoke again. “Lane, you start.”
I told them everything. Most of them already knew most of my version of stuff, although I hadn’t intended to reveal my visit to the nursing home with Margot. But something nagged at my memory of that evening. I paused when I talked about Jan and how she’d had an unexpectedly emotional reaction to a bonding experience between two vampires.
“Do you think this Jan lady is a Precognitive Psychic?” Maddie’s voice piped tinnily from the laptop’s speakers.
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “I guess she could be.”
“Well, there’s no Precog named Jan in the Registry.” Olivia tapped a tablet, using her Law Student credentials to access the record. “No Telepaths either, and a woman her age would definitely be in there.”
“Wait, her age? How old is she? What’s she look like?” That was Henry talking through the computer, this time.
I described Jan. Henry’s eyes went wide.
“So, she’s familiar to the memory man,” Josh smirked. “Gotta love coincidence.”
“She’s familiar to me, too.” Kimiko’s voice startled me. “From a very particular blocked memory.” She looked at Blaine. “Should be the same for you, dragon man.”
“Yeah.” Blaine sighed. “We’ll have to do our mate mind-meld on this before Henry gets back, but I think you’re right. I think this Jan was the Precog presiding over our betrothal.”
“Betrothal?” I blinked at Blaine, then Kimiko. Neither answered, although he reached over and brushed her bangs off her forehead. She did the same for him. I saw matching scars, mirror images. “I still don’t get it.”
“It’s how dragon families arrange marriages,” Blaine answered me, still gazing into his mate’s eyes. “The scar works like one of Henry’s memory trinkets. Huh, guess that means there was a Memory Psychic there, too. Kimi and I are older than we look. Henry would have been way too young back then.”
“Hold that thought, Blaine.” Josh stood up. “You and Henry talk about this when they get back.”
“Okay.” Henry nodded on-screen, and Blaine nodded back.
“Bianca, give us your report. Well, you and Pete.” Josh nodded at my drummer, who’d tucked himself in the corner by the fridge.
“After Nox had to beat you guys up in the hall and LORA came up with that coincidence, I knew something extra-weird was going on.” Bianca leaned against the bar instead of the back of her stool, cocking her head to the right. She nodded, and I figured Horace was there with her. “Once you guys agreed to let me help find out who turned you, I asked Pete to investigate some stuff at the hotel while I went to the hospital and the PD. Take it away, Pete.”
“Yeah, so, I found out there was a bagged-blood theft from the hotel’s stores.” He shook his head. “Made no sense since that comes with sunless rooms, so I knew there had to be some other vamp around who wasn’t staying with us.”
“Hold on. Wasn’t Della an unregistered vampire?” Lynn had her hand up like Hermione Granger in Snape’s potions class.
“I’m getting to that.” Pete scratched his goatee. “This is more about how she got to be that way. Anyhow, we think the blood thief was also responsible for the blood-loss victim Matt and Jack got arrested for.”
“Yeah, makes sense.” I hadn’t even noticed that Tony was there with us. He’d stuck to the shadows behind the bar, probably to stay out of Blaine’s way. “Go on, drummer boy.”
“Nah, it’s Bianca’s turn.” Pete nodded at her. “She’s the one who talked to the chick.”
“Okay, so, I went to the hospital and interviewed the lady's ghost. She said a guy with a big purple Mohawk bit her.” Bianca turned to Pete again.
“Do you remember that guy, Lane?” Pete shuddered.
“Yeah. Used to bounce most of the venues we played back before we got turned.” I raised an eyebrow. “Never knew he was a vampire, probably because bouncers never smile.”
“Well, he was. Is.” Pete shook his head again. “Anyway, Bianca and Horace think he drained Della but didn’t know she’d turn because she used to be a doll.”
“That’s right.” Bianca nodded. “We think he got paid to do it, too.” She tilted her head. “Both that victim and Della told us their attacker had brand-new boots and a leather jacket. Those are pretty expensive. We think Purple Mohawk was trying to sabotage the Battle of the Bands by attacking Della after the odds turned toward the Night Creatures. She mentioned he said Mr. Gitano sent his regards.”
“Not this Mr. Gitano, either.” Tony’s eyes narrowed, but not before I noticed them go catlike. “My dad’s pawprints are all over this. I think he’s been dealing with Rick the Dick since Spring Break. The Reveal wasn’t good for his business, and if Richard’s been trying to buck those changes, it makes sense for dear old Dad to get a piece of that action.”
“So, what are you going to do about it?” Blaine sneered around the question, glaring at Tony through the smoke around his head. The cat shifter rolled his eyes, lip curling in preparation for some k
ind of scathing response, but their pack Alpha butted in.
“Well, the police are looking for Mr. Purple Mohawk now.” Josh’s smile reminded me of a graveyard under a full moon. “APB statewide, one of two.”
“So, that was how Della got off the hook.” Margot nodded gravely. “They’re holding that guy responsible for the poor woman backstage as well as her attempted murder and illegal turn. I wonder whether he had anything to do with you guys being turned?”
“Maybe.” I sighed. “If they catch him, we’ll know.”
“We could find out sooner.” Bianca tilted her head, listening. “Horace just reminded me that we can get in to see Professor Watkins tomorrow. After that, it’s just a matter of following his silver thread to track him down and question him.”
“How’s this going to help with the Extramagus?” I wasn’t sure what Bianca meant by the silver thread but figured it was some Psychic medium thing.
“Well, Detective Klein being on Gemma’s boat and actually seeing Richard Hopewell shoot a fireball at Lane and company is huge.” Josh grinned like a wolf in the henhouse.
“Gemma?” Sir Albert Dunstable stood from his chair, where he’d been taking notes silently. “Gemma Tolland?” The Sidhe’s lips were parted, his cheeks flushed, and his heart rate up. I’d never imagined he could lose his composure like that. “The troll changeling?”
“Well, she’s tithed to the king, but yeah.” I shrugged, glad I knew a thing or two about faeries. “Gemma’s the one who fished us out of the drink. You know her?”
“Not since before I tithed.” Al sat back down heavily, his expression distant and wistful.
I wondered what kind of history a Seelie Sidhe knight and an Unseelie troll could possibly have. I would have suggested he give her a call sometime, but I knew nothing could happen between faeries pledged to different courts. Poor Al. I glanced around the room. The empathy was almost palpable, and I knew that, in the future, Tinfoil Hat would have the knight’s back the same way they’d had mine.
“Anyway…” Josh broke the silence to continue the matter at hand. “Richard made a big mistake by using the one school of magic he’s registered under. The remains of Blaine’s boat have his recorded energy signature all over it, and that’s who the second APB is for.”
“No arrest warrant out for Mr. Gitano?” Blaine still glared at Tony. Kimiko slipped her arm around his waist.
“Once we have enough evidence, there will be. We’ll get more during Professor Brodsky’s trial in the fall.” Olivia shuffled over to the bar and sat next to Bianca, putting herself between the angry dragon and the cat shifter. “I’m working on that with Mr. Ichiro, so get on my case if it’s too slow.”
“Fine.” Blaine turned back toward the TV, picking up the guitar-shaped controller. He cycled through songs as the rest of us breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing anyone wanted was Blaine losing his temper at Tony and going all fiery on us.
“Knowing all this stuff is nice, but it all still leaves me with one huge question.” Tony put both hands on the bar, peering over Bianca and Olivia’s shoulders at everyone else in the room. “Who’s Rick’s next target? An APB ain’t gonna stop him.”
“Got to be one or more of you four.” Lynn twirled her hair with one hand, pointing at Olivia, Tony, Bianca, and the space Horace probably occupied. “But only time will tell us who.”
“It better be me.” Tony cracked his knuckles. “If it’s not, he’s gonna wish it were ‘cause I’m sick of waiting.”
Night Crew
A Providence Paranormal College Short Story
"Dammit, Professor," Lynn Frampton glared down at the patient in the ICU. "Why won't you wake up?"
"We still don't know," I said, "but you're on the list of people we'll call when he does."
"Me?" The girl turned and blinked. "That makes no sense."
"All the same, it was what he wanted. You're on his shortlist, Miss Frampton."
"But I haven't even known him for a year."
"There's another student with a similarly brief acquaintance listed." I crossed my arms.
"Let me guess, you're not going to tell me who else is on that list."
"You're as smart as he was at your age."
"Uh, what?" The mundane girl pulled one ear lobe. "I think I heard you say something about this old coot as though you knew him back when he was my age."
"I did." I grinned. "But visiting hours are over now. You'll be back again at the same time next week?"
"No, not then, or the one after, either." Lynn shouldered her bag. "There's this weird gap between summer sessions at the college and when fall semester starts. I have to go home for that."
"We'll see you in a few weeks, then." I stepped aside to let her past.
"Yeah." She paused in the doorway. "You think it makes a difference? Me coming in here and reading to him, I mean?"
"I'm sure it does." I listened to her sniffle, but gave no indication I'd heard it. "He came in here about a week before it happened, telling me he wanted your name at the top of the list when you get through Extrahuman med school, you know."
"No, I didn't know." Nut-brown hair flipped over Lynn's shoulder to hang down her back. "I never even mentioned my major to him."
"Well, he knew, and he thinks you have what it takes to study and work here."
"Wow."
"That's what I said when he told me you were a freshman."
"Well, I'd tell you to take good care of him, but that's already happening. So keep on keeping on."
"I will. It's what I do."
The girl left, taking her enormous brain with her. I wasn't all that certain she wasn't a little bit Psychic. Nate Watkins had never been one to wax sentimental about anyone or anything, practically since birth. I should know since I was there.
Working in the hospital legitimately was more than I'd ever dared dream of either before or during the Big Reveal. When Henry Baxter and his friends rescued me from the last Extramagus to plague Providence, I'd been working as one of two night doctors for the then-secret extrahuman community. I'd delivered babies for Psychics, Magi, shifters, and even vampires like me. I'd pulled enough iron, silver, and copper out of faeries and shifters to fill a dumpster, and I'd cured enough extrahumans of magical sicknesses and poisons to fill this hospital a hundred times over.
"Doctor Klein to the nurse's station."
I still got a chuckle at hearing my name over the intercom, so I sauntered down to see what the most important staff members on the ICU floor wanted from literally old me. But it wasn't the nurses who'd called for a moment of my time after all.
"Cal." I put my hands on my hips as I faced my ex-husband. "I thought I told you not to visit me here."
"It's police business this time, Agnes."
"Providence is hardly the jurisdiction of Newport PD." I kept my tone icy even though it'd do nothing to defend me against hospital gossip.
"All the same, I'm investigating something from Newport that ties back here."
"Couldn't you have sent it to Dennison?" I preferred dealing with the Alpha lady at the Providence PD since I'd gone legit and started working here.
"No," Cal replied. "It might have something to do with Stephanie."
I blinked, unable to speak. If he'd found any unexplored angles, I'd drop everything to hear him out. Stephanie was our daughter, and her disappearance was the reason we'd split. Even after all this time, news about her would stop me in my tracks. He knew it, too.
"Agnes?"
"Okay, Cal." I let my hands drop. "I'll help. Step into my office."
I had no such thing, so I led him into a utility room. I didn't want the nurses worrying their practical heads about my problems, and I also kept my personal affairs on a need-to-know basis. From what I understand, it is a fairly common thing for vampires turned before the Reveal to do.
"So, what's your case, and how does it relate to our daughter?" I stood between Cal and the door, doing my best to make him feel cornered. It wor
ked.
"Um, well." Cal tugged his collar as though he was still a beat cop in a uniform, like he'd been when we first met. The gesture looked all wrong with his t-shirt. "We got some reports about a musician down in Newport for the big Battle of the Bands this summer. He's a vamp from the Jazz era. He helped us bust a blood-doll ring back during the Reveal."
"And this has to do with Stephanie, how?"
"The ring in question had operated since the sixties. This guy, Jack Steele, reconnected with another girl who was involved—a victim. Della Dawn. Maybe she saw Stephanie."
Our daughter had gone missing in 1983, almost seven years before the Reveal. One of the points of contention between Cal and me was his theory that blood traffickers got her. I couldn't stomach the idea, but he'd conducted his investigation based on it. As the decades wore on and my work went legitimate, my stance had softened. Statistics can lie but not that much.
"Maybe." I leaned against the door. "We both know Dampyr were in big demand back then."
"Probably still are." Cal sighed, running one hand through his hair. "Old habits die hard. Anyway, I also wanted some help with toxicology kits for vamps. Newport's extrahuman ward is underfunded, so there are none to spare. It'll help if I can test some crucial evidence in Della's case."
"Sure." I stepped past him, reaching for a box on the top shelf. "They're in here." I pulled a few out and handed them over."
"Thanks, Agnes."
"You know the chances of us finding anything about her are slim."
"I know."
"Calvin, she's probably dead." I looked him full in the face, a rush of emotion coming back to me like life to my limbs after feeding. Destiny sucked. My heart wanted him back but my head disagreed. Or maybe my pride.
"No, Agnes." My ex-husband stowed the kits in the inside pocket of the ridiculously puffy vest he wore, the one Stephanie had bought him because of that stupid movie about the time-traveling kid. His tenacious grip on foolish hopes was the reason I couldn't deal with his place in my heart anymore. "You're wrong."
