An Erie Operetta

by V. L. Locey

  “Vincente took me as his about six months ago. Before that, I thought vampires were just cheesy romance heroes that glittered.”

  Wonderful. A newbie thrall. Mikel would be over the moon. Not. Rugby slipped into the dining room to inform me that I had thirty minutes to get to work. I thanked the Halfling, then asked Rugby to get Akio settled. I was assured all would be taken care of, so I bundled up and brazened the snow whirling about the manse. Mikel had insisted I have four-wheel drive, so I climbed into my snug red Subaru, which a certain majordomo had warming up for me, then drove to the OTTER offices.

  Our little town was hunkered down. The traffic crawled along snowy streets. I pulled into what appeared to be an abandoned lot behind a condemned building. The shimmering veil of magic moved over my car as I drove into the lot. I could feel it. Humans could not. I fell back into thinking of Akio as I rushed from my car to the office, my head tucked against the snow blowing in spinning vortexes. Once inside, I shook the flakes from my head, dusted off my shoulders, and stood in line for one of several elevators. So yes, Akio.

  I had about a half million questions about the man. While he seemed quite pleasant and bright, why had he given up his previous life to play midnight snack for a vampire? I nodded at a woman who was bitching about the rising costs of coven dues as we entered the elevator. There were ten floors above ground and ten below. I have never ventured below ground. That area is off limits to mere office workers. The morgue is down there, as well as the dark magic regulation task force. I now suspect that the Nosferarti office is to be found down below as well. Elders only know what else lies under the ground.

  “Floor seven,” I told the man nearest the buttons. He punched seven. The door closed. I was crammed into the corner. My nose was cold and my glasses speckled with melted snow. Conversation hummed. I pondered Akio. How would I explain a spanking new thrall to Mikel? If I were smart, I’d let the big boys battle it out. I hadn’t spent years with my head plunged into toilets and not learned something. Yes, I decided, I would let Vincente and Mikel knock heads over the breech. This way I wouldn’t end up having cupcakes crammed down the back of my pants. Not that Mikel would ever stuff baked goods into my briefs but...

  “It’s about time you showed up, Reed.”

  I wiggled through the crowd to find my supervisor, Craig Truvor, waiting for me at the elevator door.

  “Am I late, sir?” I asked as I was pushed out into the lineage departments lobby. I stumbled forward and threw a hairy eyeball at the closing elevator doors.

  “I thought you volunteered to come in an hour early every day to get that website set up,” he said, his green eyes filled with managerial aggravation. I stared dumbly at the weasel shifter.

  “I beg your pardon, sir, but I do not recall volunteering to come in an hour early every day.”

  “Reed, I distinctly heard you. It was during that meeting about the Cryton Briggs case,” he said before turning from me. I gathered my wits. Once he got behind that ivy-decorated door of his this conversation would be over.

  “Sir, I wasn’t even part of the Cryton Briggs case. Why would I volunteer to come in an hour early to work on a webpage that wasn’t even my idea?”

  “Any law-abiding citizen of our community would give up a measly sixty minutes to the cause. This is a webpage to aid the ongoing murder investigations. Are you telling me that the growing body counts among the shifter community isn’t worth one hour of your time a day, Reed?” Truvor asked, folding his thin arms over his lean chest. The damned sneaky weasel! You’d think my knowing his secret and him knowing mine would have made things less strained between us. Nope. If anything, the gay man staring at me while the whole of the lineage department hung onto our every word had grown more hostile to me.

  “Of course not, sir. It’s just that... I’m not sure that I can make it here any earlier.” I felt quite nervous. I caught a faint whiff of my inner critter on the warm air currents. Shit. I felt everyone on the floor giving me the stink-eye, pardon the bad choice of wording there. “But I’ll certainly try to get in earlier, for those who have been lost.”

  “Good. Now get to work, you’re already seventy-five minutes late. You’ll be docked for your tardiness, of course.”

  “But I... Yes, sir.” I moved to my cubicle as innocuously as I could. I had lucked out with getting a square in the corner under the heater intake vent. Winter or summer, the air was sucked away from me directly into the filtration system. If any stray stink molecules escaped, as they were now, they’d be inhaled by the huge heating and cooling system. Sure, my little nook was bleak, cramped, and depressing, but a striper who was trying to keep his stripes a secret couldn’t have asked for a better locale. After getting my glasses dried on some tissues, I fired up my work computer. There it sat. That damned website with all the damned names. I wiped my the last clinging droplets of snow from my cheeks with the tissues, tossed the tiny wad of Kleenex into my waste bin, and started adding more names to the database.

  Two hours crept past. My cell vibrating in my front pocket startled me slightly. I left the website page to check the incoming text.

  “Damn it,” I groaned when I saw the short message from Mikel.

  Tracking rogues. Headed 2 Canada. Don’t know when home. Love U. Miss U. M

  So much for the opera. I shoved the cell back into my pocket and continued working on building this far-too-sad webpage.

  Eight

  “Master Reed, there are a couple... things that require your immediate attention.”

  I stepped into the foyer and closed the front door behind me. Facing Rugby, I started unwrapping my scarf from around my neck.

  “It’s been an incredibly long, bad day, Rugby,” I said as I handed him my gold and black scarf. “Can these things wait until tomorrow? Perhaps Mikel will be back from the wilds of the north and he can handle whatever--”

  “There’s our own nearsighted version of Pepe LePew,” Vincente said as he came down the stairs with his thrall a neat step behind him. Rugby’s lips flattened. “I’m well aware of what you’re thinking, Elfling, so you may as well continue whispering about your discontent to the tiny man with the large odor problem.”

  “Vincente, you’re being rude,” Akio snapped. The vampire stalled momentarily. His eyes darted to me and then grew distant. “He’s always crabby before he eats.”

  With that pronouncement, poor Rugby turned a fine shade of puce then exited the foyer. I watched him go with some concern, then I turned on the pair in designer suits stepping off the last stair.

  “I hope you’re not going to join me for your meal?”

  “As if I would sully my snack by taking his vein while inhaling the smell of garlic and clam. Go have your dinner. When we’re done we’ll join you.” And thusly was I dismissed by Agent Elysian. In my own home. The nerve of the undead prick. I stalked into the dining room, my snowy shoes slapping wetly on the hardwood floors, then screamed in surprise, arms flying over my head, when the majordomo appeared out of a dark corner.

  “Rugby!” I squeaked, “You must stop doing that. Cough or something,” I panted before dropping down into a chair to work on slowing my heart rate.

  “My apologies, Master Reed.” He moved around the long table to stand at my side. I looked up at him.

  “Did you have something you wished to say?”

  “That... unholy creature and his slave were in the master’s library.”

  “And this is a problem how? Oh, thank you so much, Eru. This clam chowder will certainly hit the spot.” I took the bowl from the serving girl then dribbled a handful of hard, round crackers into the soup. The aroma of thyme and onions wafting up from the red broth made my mouth water. Eru scurried back into the kitchen. The fire in the hearth snapped. I took a small sip, closed my eyes, then opened them when a certain manservant remained obtrusively at my side.”What is it, Rugby?”

  The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes grew deeper when he scowled. “I think they may have been doing th
ings in the library.”

  “More than likely reading,” I commented, spooning up a big chunk of clam. “Rugby, they’re grown men. They can do ‘things’ if they want to. Far be it for me to cast stones. Have you had any of this soup? I really think Mrs. Dunrite has outdone--”

  “Master Reed! They were doing... unnatural things, I fear.” I placed my spoon, and my fat clam, back into the bowl.

  “Rugby, you do realize that Mikel and I do things that the majority of our mystical brethren would term ‘unnatural’ as well?” I tipped my head while giving him a “Do you see my point?” look.

  His mouth dropped open. I smiled. I had never seen Mikel’s head of staff ruffled.

  “Master Reed, what you and Master Lupei do is not unnatural. It’s only queer.” Well, I couldn’t argue that. Rugby leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I suspect that those two were nibbling each other.”

  Elders bless him. I reached out to pat his frail shoulder.

  “I’ll have a word with them about nibbling in the library,” I assured him. That seemed to put the soul at ease, for he nodded and went to stand in his corner. I had no sooner picked my spoon back up when the two nibblers entered the dining room. Vincente, in a dark blue suit that was cut for his sleek body by a tailor to the gods, looked quite animated. His eyes glowed from within. Akio, meanwhile, seemed a tad peaked. I inclined my head when they sat down, one on either side of me. Vincente waved Eru away but his thrall fell on his soup like a starving jackal. Mikel’s pups had better table manners. After a moment of loud slurping Akio raised his pretty eyes.

  “Sorry,” he smiled sheepishly, his chin covered with Manhattan clam chowder. “When I donate I get pretty hungry myself.”

  “I see.” I didn’t know what else to say. Oh! “I hear that they give humans cookies and juice when they donate blood. Perhaps if—did I say something humorous?”

  Vincente’s chuckling stopped after a moment. “Silly skunk, cookies are for kids.”

  “What he’s trying to say is that when I give Vincente my vein, I get something in return. I feed him yes, but he also feeds me.”

  “Ah! So you don’t swap spit you swap corpuscles.”

  “In a manner.” Akio took a moment to finish his soup, then asked for more. “The term ‘thrall’ really doesn’t fit what I am. I’m Vincente’s chosen. I’ll live for a few hundred years, as long as we feed off each other.”

  I glanced at Elysium. He waggled his dark brows. “Are you surprised that I would take a chosen?”

  Actually, yes, I was, but I shook my head. The vampire laughed. I was beginning to get tired of being the butt of his jokes.

  “You are a delight,” Vincente said as he slowly got to his highly-buffed boots. “I don’t really need to dally around inside your head; your thoughts are on your cute little face. I’m off for the morgue,” he told his chosen. “I wish to attend the autopsy of that body Templeton found at the opera.”

  “Don’t bring up the opera,” I muttered. Akio asked what was the matter as he set into draining his second bowl of chowder. I gave them a fast run though of the invitation situation.

  “Take Akio, he enjoys listening to fat women sing in German. I’m more a Stones man,” Vincente offered before kissing his chosen on his smooth cheek. In a blink the man was a moving mist. Rugby skittered backwards, plastering his shoulder blades to the cold stone wall. The fog swept over our heads then dove into the flue. Eru mumbled something Elvin under her breath. I tore my sight from the fireplace to find Akio stuffing a fat dinner roll into his face.

  “You enjoy the opera?”I asked. His dark head went up and down with gusto. “Would you like to attend a performance of The Magic Flute this evening? We should be given instant access. Even without Mikel along, since we were invited by the diva herself.” Again more up and down. “Let’s hurry and eat. Rugby. Notify the ferry we’ll have two for pick up.”

  Yes! This time I was not leaving the Lupei box, no matter what.

  ***

  I had to put an addendum onto that promise not to leave the box. My bladder insisted I leave Akio as well as the Lupei private seats. Whispering to my new opera-going buddy where I was headed, I slipped through the thick curtain and began searching the huge building for the closest men’s room. I passed several ladies’ rooms. Is it just me, or do the gals seem to get the lion’s share of the bathrooms? Finally I discovered a lavatory for us gents. I ran in, flung open a door to one of several stalls, unzipped, and sighed in relief. Being who and what I am, I much prefer a stall. Bullies have to work harder to get to you in a stall. Old habits die hard. As I stood there I heard two men entering the bathroom. I’m not generally an eavesdropper, but when you have nothing to do besides watch yourself urinate...

  “I hope they’re taking the proper measures to protect the touring group,” one said in a deep voice.

  “As do I,” a raspy voice said. “Imagine, a whole troupe of beautiful women travelling about with such nastiness following them. You’d think the elders would forbid females from traipsing about without proper male protection, especially in this day and age.”

  “True,” Deep Voice said. Zippers were unzipped. I shook and tucked, my ears wide open inside my stall. “It’s bad enough to have those damned rogues ripping up every high breed they can, but now these oddly dispatched bodies showing up everywhere our lovelies travel! And one a human.”

  My ears perked up. I leaned my shoulder to the wall. Try as I might I could not see the men through the crack in the door. Bodies, Deep Voice had said. As in plural. When had this occurred?

  “If only they would listen, but you know these modern women. They’re so stubborn. If I could gain admittance, I know I would be able to convince our beloved diva to cancel this tour. Two such corpses should warrant such an act from the minister of arts at the very least. I tried sending her messages when the body in Baltimore was found the day after the company left Maryland, but would the buxom wench take my letters? No!”

  “She won’t see me either,” Raspy Voice said sadly. “I don’t understand it, either. I have far more money than some of the flea-bitten swains that she admits into her dressing room.”

  “Women,” Deep Voice said. Raspy Voice muttered in commiseration. Zipping of trousers and then the flushing of urinals filled the bathroom. I sat down on the seat, hoping they would think I was merely taking a poo instead of spying. They lathered, still harping about Ms. Panagakos. I hadn’t heard so many heavy sighs since I was trapped on a bus with the local high school cheerleading squad. After the two gents left, I flushed as well, then hurried over to a sink to wash my hands.

  A basket filled with rolled hand towels sat between the two shell-shaped sinks. As I dried my hands, I mulled over the news I had heard. So another body had been found. It appeared to be directly linked to the opera company. If a body had been discovered in Baltimore, and two had been found here, then the murderer must be part of the cast. But whom? I began to pace the lavatory as I rolled over the tidbits of information. Who could it be? Surely not any of the musicians or performers. They were all women.

  I stopped pacing to make a face at myself in the mirror over the sinks.

  “Stop being so stupid, Templeton,” I said to my image. Of course women could kill. Some were quite bloodthirsty. Mikel’s sister was a prime example. I tugged out my cell. I had a weak signal but sent a quick text to Mikel anyway. Hopefully he would be returning from wolf form soon. Once the text containing what I had heard was sent, I stepped out into the corridor. I could hear the opening strains filling the acoustically perfect building. Perhaps if I did a wee bit of snooping I might be able to find a clue to pass along to Mikel or Vincente. I stood torn for a moment. Watch the opera while letting those trained to investigate do their jobs, or nose around just a bit to help further the investigation? It was my duty as a citizen of this magical community to aid in whatever way I could, correct?

  I walked back into the men’s room, stripped quickly, stashed my tuxedo into the linen close
t that held nothing but rolled hand towels and urinal blocks, then shifted. Sneaking about as a skunk would afford me numerous advantages. I strolled up to the door then placed my front feet on it. It didn’t budge. Well, shit. There was the one disadvantage to skunk form. No thumbs to turn a doorknob. I sat down, wrapped my tail around me, and waited. Perhaps five minutes passed before someone ran into the bathroom. I zipped out into the hall and promptly collided with a potted plant. I shook off the impact then trotted away from the main concourse. Using sound to guide me, I continued moving away from the stage.

  I moved with ease, my long whiskers trailing over the flocked wallpaper on the wall. When I reached the end of the corridor, I twitched an ear, sniffed a few times, then bounded off toward the smells of perfume and cold air. Thankfully, this opera house had been built way before fire codes were implemented, so no fire exit doors with large bars to push would be encountered. I began going down a spiral staircase. It was quite murky but since I ran on mostly smell and hearing, the creeping fingers of shadow didn’t deter me. I paused a few times to pick up the subtle changes in the air. I smelled the dank stink of a basement. I continued going downward. A door stood ajar at the bottom of the stairs.

  I wiggled through, placing one dainty paw down at a time. The music was much louder now, as were the voices of the singers. Also, the cloud of perfumed femininity was so thick it made me gag. My perky little skunk nose was much keener than my human one. I grabbed my tail and sneezed into it five times. Eyes watering, I followed the floorboards ever closer to the dressing areas. I kept looking back over my shoulder but saw nothing. Not that I would have seen anything until it leaped on me. With my nose so compromised by the stench of battling flowery scents, I jumped on the first door I came to. It creaked open. I hurried inside, my tail brushing against a scarf draped over the knob. I gave the door a firm shove with my back foot. It drifted shut.

  The aroma of the diva told me I had entered her private dressing room. I padded over to the closet. That door was firmly closed. I thought of shifting back to human but the sound of someone running past made me change my mind. Instead of rifling through Ms. Panagakos’ closet, I leaped up onto the padded seat that housed her derriere when she applied makeup.