My Boyfriend is a Monster

by Coates, J. H.

  “What’s that?” Percy asked looking at the new teapot on the table.

  “It’s a pot of tea,” Quinn replied.

  “That’s the pot that was on the burner,” Percy said.

  “Aye, so,” Quinn said shrugging.

  “Let me see your hand.”

  “Why?” Quinn asked again but this time a little embarrassed.

  Percy took his hand and with a bit of struggle he looked at it then held it up for show. “Fucking burnt himself,” he said with a sneer displaying Quinn’s hand that was slowly healing itself from the burn.

  Tyre chuckled. “I swear, it’s a lucky thing you were born Elemental my son.”

  “Why’s that Boss?” Quinn asked yanking his hand away.

  “Because if you were born human you’d be dead, my guess would be shortly after you learnt to crawl,” he answered looking back at Percy for confirmation.

  Percy gave Quinn a quick look over and thought about it for a second. “Crawl right into oncoming traffic I reckon,” he said laughing in complete judgment and causing Quinn to lower his eyes into his teacup. Percy turned back to Tyre and continued where their last conversation left off. “Well our fathers were German, we lived there and we fucking spoke it didn’t we.”

  “I believe some of the Jews spoke fucking German too, what’s your point?”

  “If it quacks like a duck,” Percy said thinking he stated the obvious.

  “Now I’m a duck?” Tyre asked looking at Quinn for help, who only shrugged his shoulders bewildered.

  “I’m not saying you’re a fucking duck, literally,” Percy said getting a bit upset.

  “Then I don’t get it.”

  “It’s a metaphor for fuck sakes,” he said pouring the rest of his tea down his throat.

  “Big word,” Tyre said to Quinn.

  Quinn grinned. “Must have come to him in the tub when he was playing with his rubber ducky,” he laughed quite proud of himself.

  Tyre smiled and held the laughter in as Percy was getting quite upset.

  “I actually wish I had a rubber ducky,” Percy said pouring another tea.

  “Really,” Tyre said revealing a bigger smile.

  “Aye, cause I’d shove it right up your arse,” he said while stirring and giving them both an angry smirk.

  Quinn laughed at Percy’s frustration until Percy looked at him. “Sorry Boss,” he apologized but couldn’t hold it all in and let a couple of snorts escape.

  Percy turned to his Boss with a discontented grin. “And you’ll be buying me a new carpet as well,” he informed him as he sipped his tea giving them both a frustrated smile and sealing the deal with a nod.

  “What about Marcus?” Quinn asked while directing the men who now had the German rolled up in the rug. He pointed to the ground telling them without words as to not forget about the heart and blood stain. They nodded that they understood and two of them took the rolled up corpse out of the room while the third got a small bag for the heart.

  “Make sure it’s all burned,” Percy told the man picking up the heart.

  “Yes sir. I’ll be back to clean the blood up personally.”

  “Good boy,” Percy called out as the man chased down the corpse in the rug to make sure the heart was burned with it.

  “Who is this Nathanial?” Tyre asked trying to remember why the name seemed vaguely familiar.

  “He’s the son of Julius,” Percy said.

  “Now Julius I remember,” Tyre said with a sly smile.

  Although Quinn was not with them when they had dealings with Julius he heard the stories many times. “I’m sure he remembers you.”

  “We ran into the Nathanial kid, back in 1871, or 72 I can’t remember, somewhere in the Arizona territory,” Percy said trying to recall exactly.

  Quinn was with them then. “71, we just came down from Illinois after the fire and we were chasing those Mexican fellows,” he said recalling quite well.

  “Oh yes, I believe we were all lost,” Tyre said remembering. He poured himself another tea.

  “That’s right,” Percy said passing him the honey. “We were chasing those Mexicans from the north and we thought we would cut them off going over top Humphreys Peak. But we lost’em by the time we got to Chino Valley,” he said like it was only yesterday and then got excited as he remembered more. “By the time we hit the Sonoran desert we didn’t have a clue what happened to them. That’s when we met the kid, you remember,” he said looking at Tyre.

  “That’s right. He said he was running from Marcus Crassus and a small army,” Tyre recalled stirring.

  Quinn laughed getting in on the story. “Yeah, you said any enemy of that cunt is welcome to sit at our fire and break our bread,” he added.

  “And meant it, would of helped him kill him too if we didn’t have to find those Latino gentlemen.”

  Percy stood up and stretched. “We didn’t catch up with those Mexicans until El Fuerte down in Sinaloa. They taunted us from behind those fort walls all drunk.” He slapped Quinn on the back. “Fuck if they weren’t surprised when we leapt over the walls, never smelled so much Mexican shit all at once,” he bellowed causing Quinn to spit his tea back into his cup.

  “I told you if we didn’t go we’d kick ourselves for missing the Wild West” Tyre said raising his cup then taking a sip.

  “Good time’s boy, just bloody brilliant,” Percy said smiling.

  “So are we going south or across the pond?” Quinn asked getting excited.

  “I vote for America, then when were done I wouldn’t mind doing some tracking and hunting in Canada there. Maybe up to Mahoney Lake and then make our way to Great Bear.”

  “That’d be brilliant,” Quinn said adding his vote.

  “Maybe,” Tyre said and sat quietly with his tea and thoughts. This was enough for the other two to leave the subject alone.

  Raising his head Percy peered over at Quinn. “How’s the hand?”

  “Fine thank you,” Quinn said moving his hand under the table so he could not see it.

  Laughing Percy just shook his head. “Moron.”

  TWO: Meet me in St. Louis

  Merrick walked into the old building on South Broadway and immediately felt at home. The club was busy but not crowded and the music, as always was just loud enough. He stood for a moment soaking in the atmosphere and catching the beat. He let it course through his body like electricity and moved to the rhythm looking like he belonged. He suddenly felt like rum, the kind he liberated from seized British naval ships before he scuttled them.

  Seeking out his newly hired assailants he quickly saw them and headed towards their table. They picked a perfect one, just far enough to talk without shouting and close enough to enjoy the band while you did.

  “Sir,” Merrick offered to the Raven then turned to the Crow. “My dear,” he said and nodded.

  “Mr. Merrick I presume,” the Raven said extending his hand in friendship.

  Merrick took it and noticed as he did over the centuries, that different people whether Human or Monster, all have different types of handshakes. The Raven was most definitely a literary hand shaker. His handshake was firm and strong but it was the way he held Merrick’s hand. It was not forceful, more inviting and non-threatening. One usually offered from writers, musicians and painters.

  “Please sir, sit,” the Raven said half standing and waving over a waitress.

  Merrick sat and let his body relax. “I was so pleased when I was told my next trip was here,” he said putting his briefcase beside his chair.

  “A long flight Mr. Merrick?” the Raven asked.

  “Japan to San Fran then straight here,” he said with a deep reserving breath.

  “And how was the Land of the Rising Sun sir?”

  “Weeks upon weeks of dealing with the Order, so . . . very unproductive I’m afraid,” Merrick confessed.

  “No surprise there,” the Crow said already scowling at the mention of its name.

  “Yes, we prefer not to have
dealings with them. And any we have, cannot be recalled upon in any positive fashion,” the Raven affirmed.

  “That’s why we prefer to stay home,” she added then turned back to watch the band play.

  “It is true. The old Canada or the odd trip to Europe. Proper Europe you know, London, Paris and what not, but other than that we prefer to stay within the comforts of the good old U.S. of A.”

  “Like I said, I was pleased when you said you’d meet me in St. Louis.”

  “Like the movie,” the Crow said taking a little interest in the table now.

  “A classic if you like musicals,” the Raven said referring to her connection with Merrick’s remarks.

  “I do,” Merrick said honestly since he had seen Meet Me in St. Louis at least fifty times.

  “I love Judy Garland,” the Crow said then turned back to the band. Suddenly turning back to the table she began to grin almost institutional like. “I actually met her,” she said.

  The waitress appeared. “Another round?” she asked.

  “Yes my dove, and for my friend,” the Raven said waiting for Merrick.

  “Do you have Pusser’s British Navy Rum?” he asked hopeful.

  “We do but it’s just a little more expensive.”

  “That’ll be fine. Two,” Merrick said holding up two fingers. “One on the rocks and the other neat, please.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right back,” the waitress said and headed back to the bar.

  “That’s right,” the Raven said recalling his history. “You sailed out of the Barbary Coast’s. You were a Privateer, isn’t that right,” he said hoping he had it right.

  “Were all friends here, I was a Pirate sir,” Merrick said being honest.

  “I didn’t want to betray any feelings of personal conception,” he said with a smile.

  “No misconceptions sir, I pillaged and I plundered.”

  “Marvelous, for how long?” he asked.

  “Almost a hundred years.”

  “A hundred years of adventure,” the Raven added.

  Merrick decided to mull the statement over and hemmed and hawed while he thought about it, then decided. “Well, I would say a good thirty years of adventure, the rest was pretty boring.”

  “A true swash buckler,” the Raven said and downed the rest of his scotch. “And I mean that in all sincerity,” he continued as the scotch filled his stomach with its warmth.

  The waitress came with a double scotch neat, an apple martini and two Pusser’s British Navy Rums, one neat and one on the rocks. The waitress assumed a tab was being run and quickly set the drinks in front of the proper patrons and went to another table. Merrick downed the rum that was neat and was almost transported back to his ship. Feeling the breeze off the ocean and the salt that lingered in the air he wished he was. Opening his eyes he was a little disappointed but thought the little jazz and blues club in one of his favorite American cities was a consolation prize, but not a bad one. Taking another sip of his rum he rejoined the conversation. “You were saying you met Judy Garland,” he said reminding the Crow before the waitress interrupted her.

  Getting excited again the Crow put her drink down. “I met her just after Meet Me in St. Louis came out. What a wonderful women, she was just as lovely and kind as everyone said,” the Crow recounted taking another sip of her Martini. “She was so enjoyable I wanted to kill her that evening, so I would always know I was the last person to enjoy her,” she said taking a deep sip. She started to shutter just thinking about it.

  Merrick just politely smiled and took a sip of his rum.

  Then she felt saddened by the whole thing. “But alas I did not.”

  “And fans including myself are grateful,” Merrick laughed trying to lighten the mood.

  “Yes my dear, the Clock, the Good Old Summertime, and the Pirate -”

  “One of my personal favorites,” Merrick interrupted.

  He continued. “And don’t forget one of your favorites lover,” he said then paused a moment letting her think about it. Then when she grinned reluctantly he held his hands out in a revealing wave. “A Star Is Born.”

  The Crow laughed and clapped her hands.

  “All of which would not of been made if you killed her my love” the Raven said holding his drink up.

  She raised her eyebrows. “Well. . . Yes, I suppose that’s true,” she said letting the Raven feel comfortable enough to take another drink.

  “How we all doing here?” the waitress asked slowing down as she walked by in case they wanted to place an order.

  “Same again if you would be so kind,” the Raven said finishing his scotch.

  “Same for you honey, one neat, one on the rocks” she asked Merrick coming to a complete stop and gathering the glasses.

  “Actually just make it a double on the rocks if you would,” Merrick said handing her his glasses.

  “And the same for you sweetie,” she said looking at the Crow.

  The Crow handed the waitress her glass. “Sure,” she said and sighed. Then she looked behind the waitress towards the bar. “Unless you have Judy Garland or a respectable doppelganger of some sorts back there?” she asked half excited.

  The waitress looked at the other men at the table a little confused. “Is that a drink of some kind?”

  “No my dove, just a joke from our current conversation,” the Raven assured her. “Another apple martini will do fine.”

  That seemed to be a well enough explanation for her. “I’ll be right back,” she said and headed back to the bar.

  The Crow excused herself and headed to the bathroom giving Merrick the opportunity to talk bluntly about business at hand. “I just want you to be clear on your job specifications. . . Edgar.”

  “I do not like that name sir,” the Raven said getting a little nervous and feeling a tad antagonized all of a sudden.

  “And I do not like repeating myself or having my instructions ignored. So I want you to understand how serious I am,” he said looking him in the eyes.

  “Fair enough, it is your party,” the Raven said calming down.

  “His name is Nathan.”

  “Nathan Caesar, of the house of Caesar, son of Julius and Cleopatra and master . . . of the Five Rings,” the Raven said taking a long drink.

  “Rumored of the Five Rings, but yes,” Merrick said.

  “Tell me Mr. Merrick, are the long list of dead Monsters that crossed paths with him, just rumors?” the Raven asked.

  “Unknown really, but it doesn’t matter. You are not to engage the target under any circumstances. You are to track him and study from a distance, a safe and unnoticeable distance,” Merrick said trying to be as clear as he could.

  “I understand,” the Raven said.

  “It is crucial that you do.”

  “Of course, I pride myself on always completing my objective as per my employer’s instructions,” he said proudly.

  “Good,” Merrick said leaning back and relaxing a bit. “Our last gentlemen under contract did not, Yaroslav.”

  “From the Kiev,” the Raven said knowing the name well.

  “He found young Nathan in Italy and decided to forget what he was hired to do and engaged in some ancient creed of battling to the death, for honor and proper passage to the After.”

  “I’m guessing he was successful in gaining passage,” the Raven said assuming Yaroslav was dead.

  “He was. Even set on fire to make the trip quick and glorious.”

  “How wonderful our ancient customs must seem to an Elemental,” the Raven said trying to picture the whole thing.

  “You Chakan are a strange lot,” Merrick said raising his eyebrows and taking another sip.

  “Come now Mr. Merrick, Elementals usually adhere to a strict code as well,” he pointed it.

  “Not this one,” he said finishing his drink.

  The waitress returned with their drinks. “Sorry I took so long guys, it is getting busy tonight,” she said starting to place the drinks down in front of
them again.

  “Of course it is,” the Raven said giving her an appreciated smile. “The music tonight is fantastic,” he said taking his drink from her.

  “They are pretty hot tonight,” she said looking to the stage. She turned back and took a deep breath and a quick break. “Phew, how about I just bring some drinks when I see them low and you just stop me when you’re ready to call it a night?”

  “Sounds good,” Merrick said.

  “A formidable plan,” the Raven chimed in with a smile.

  “Okay, enjoy,” she offered and was off again.

  The Raven raised his glass to Merrick. “I have no desire to follow or honor any creed or code. My loyalties are bounded by the job set forth and paid for sir.”

  “Good,” Merrick said and raised his glass back at him. Taking a drink he let the rum settle on his tongue and cheeks then gulped. “That means no recreational killing, of people that are or are not famous.”

  Lowering his drink from his lips the Raven smiled. “Of course,” he said and nodded.

  “No offence, But the Judy Garland story made me, want to at least mention it.”

  “No, no Mr. Merrick, no offence taken, she can be at times, quite impulsive.”

  The Crow appeared back at the table. “What did I miss darling,” she said sitting back down quickly enjoying her new apple martini.

  “Just business lover, dotting the - I’s and crossing the - T’s,” the Raven said leading the conversation away from a murder-less future.

  “Well tell us about this Nathan,” the Crow said with an evil enthusiasm.

  “Let us not my dear,” the Raven interrupted. “Mr. Merrick has had a long trip and would probably just prefer to relax.”

  “Not at all,” Merrick said giving him a reassuring wink that the subject of no murdering would be left for him to disclose at a later time. Bending down and grabbing his briefcase from beside his chair he placed it on the table. Opening it he pulled out two folders, a red one and a plain beige one. “In the red one you will find all we have on Nathan and in the other, his family,” he said seeing they both took notice of the beige one being much larger.

  “Yes his family,” the Raven said grabbing the beige folder and weighing it in his hand.