Jaded Touch (Vesper)

by Sarina, Nola

  He said fuck. In the sexual way. In the same sentence as my name. I would have giggled if the topic wasn’t so dire. I threw up my hands, my frustration bubbling over, and I couldn’t hide my emotion. “What should I tell you? That you’re going to die for this, and that I don’t want you to, and that you’re a stupid idiot for breaking the rules knowing all that you know?” I tried to ignore how much of my anger was born of sexual frustration brewing deep inside my body, ignited only a day ago with the kiss of a fading man in a ditch. Crap.

  Sychar’s expression sobered. “I’m sorry. I know. But you asked, and you deserved the truth. I respect you too much to lie to you because you’re the only friend I have.”

  The truth of his words and the intensity of his solitude resonated within me as he spoke. The Gents didn’t socialize with each other as we Maids did… they weren’t allowed. Levitiqas squashed any sign of joy he saw, and I sighed. I might have been a little scared, and a little jealous, but yes, I was also his friend. “I think Levi’s your friend, too.”

  “Levi is too busy with whatever Festus tells him to do to bother with a little shit like me.”

  “You’re not so little anymore, you big boy with a girlfriend.” I tried to cover my wounded feelings with jest. “What are you, pushing sixty, now?”

  “Pushing seventy,” he corrected with a smirk, “but sixteen for eternity.”

  Sixteen. Way too young when Levitiqas bit him and stole his mortal life. I was lucky to be twenty when I was bitten, and the extra age gave me an edge of wisdom over Sychar that I tried to impart where I could.

  Sixteen and seventy. I was a little bit older than him, at twenty and seventy.

  “So, what’s her name?” I shook off my momentary lapse of composure. Friend. Supportive friend, almost equal in age but wiser in suffering. That’s what I was to him. His choices were his, not mine.

  “Samantha,” he said, his black eyes widening as he whispered around the syllables. Oh, he loved her. I could see it in his eyes that he loved her, and though fears still bled into my mood, I was also so delighted to see true happiness on his face that I thought my heart might burst.

  I smiled, genuine mirth pushing away my anger. “How old is she?”

  “Uh, eighteen, I think. I’m not sure. I thought it would be rude to ask, since she’s mortal and all.”

  “Smart move. So, you love her.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t need to.” Huh. I wondered if my emotions showed as plainly on my face as his.

  Sychar sighed and stared out the open door at the night blasting by. “Yeah, I think I love her.”

  “And you’ve… been with her? And not killed her?” I didn’t know if I could do it, actually do it, if it were me and Jack. Jack! There was his name in my lusty thoughts again.

  He winced. “Do we have to talk about this?”

  I laughed at his discomfort. “Yes. Were you safe about it?”

  “What the hell does that even mean, for Vespers?”

  “It means did you eat first, so you wouldn’t accidentally mummify her?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I ate first. Can we be done with the safe-sex talk now?”

  “Sure. So how was it?”

  “Oh my God, Three. Seriously? It was fine.”

  “Fine?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Just fine, or more than fine?”

  He threw his hands up and shook his head. “I don’t know, it was fine! I hope it was fine, anyway.” He rose to his feet and planted his hands on his hips, pacing in that invisible, fast way of his. I could barely see his movements. “I don’t want to discuss my sexual prowess, or lack thereof, with you. It’s like talking about sex with my sister.”

  I snorted. “I’m sure you did very well.”

  “How do I tell that? It’s not like she’s going to tell me I’m a fumbling idiot, what with her being afraid of me, and all.”

  I thought of my parting gift from Jack and something clenched inside me, deep down. “You should make her not afraid of you, if you’re going to continue seeing her.”

  “I’m not sure how to accomplish that. She knows I kind of want to eat her, too.”

  I sighed. “You’re sure you can hide this from Levitiqas?”

  Sychar stopped pacing and his shoulders sank a little bit. “I have to. He’ll kill her if I don’t. It’s not like he’s dealt with his Gents taking a human mistress before, but I’m sure it wouldn’t end well for any of us if he found out.”

  I ground my teeth together at the way he spoke. How damaged the minds of the Gents were, thanks to Levitiqas’ cruelty. Sychar didn’t even remember Nycholas, or the brutal chase that ended in his death.

  But it wasn’t my place to tell him. My Lady ensured we understood that… that their burden to bear was life with Levitiqas, and we could not interfere with the way he chose to discipline his subordinates. All I could do was support him, my best friend, who needed me as a friend more than anything else. I reached into my pouch and pulled out a two-layered brown leather cord with jade beads stitched into it – the same shade of jade that reminded me of Jack’s eyes - and tied a quick slip knot. I held it out to Sychar. “Here. Start with this. Give her a few nice little things, show her you care about her for more than the sex, and the fear of your fangs will dwindle away.”

  Sychar blinked at my generosity and took the bracelet. “You think it will help?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a boyfriend. But that’s how they do things in movies and books...” I trailed off.

  Sychar watched me for a moment, his eyes narrow. But he didn’t out me on the lie, didn’t mention that I’d had a lover once – almost a lover, anyway - so long ago it was dust in history. He knew it would set me into a foul mood if he brought it up, so he kept quiet and tucked the bracelet into his pocket. Then, he reached out and took my fingers in his. “Thanks, Three. For everything. Your support, your friendship… I’d be lost in this life, without you.”

  I shrugged and squeezed his hand, and then let go of him. “It’s nothing, really. Tell me how it goes though, okay?”

  Sychar nodded and slipped his hood back over his head. “I will. See you at transfer duty?”

  “Yep,” I said with a smile I hoped didn’t convey the feeling of melancholy that settled into my soul. “See you tomorrow night at the Defensor.”

  “Later, Three.” Sychar nodded his head at me, a little bow, and sprang out of the train door, vanishing into the night at a speed my eyes couldn’t catch.

  “Later, Sychar,” I whispered as he was gone.

  Sychar had a secret. A dangerous secret. And he couldn’t even remember how dangerous it was because Levitiqas was such a sick overlord. It was so unfair to my friend that a familiar rage brewed with my frustration, my surprise, and my own personal solitude. I stuffed the beading pouch into the cargo pocket on the side of my pants, and rose to my feet, shaking, red peeling across my vision.

  And then I ripped the cots from the floor of the train and swung them high over my head, smashing them into the floor, the walls, denting the train car itself, crushing the frames of the cots into crumpled balls of steel. I screamed at the top of my lungs as I destroyed the lounge car – screamed until my throat hurt and my jaw unhinged with the hunger for violence - my frustration bubbling over into a mess of fury and fear. I raged until no inch of the lounge car remained undented by the cots, or my fists, or feet… blind with wrath, I lost track of the damage. I didn’t bother to clean up my mess. I just dove headfirst out of the train and ran with feet pounding furiously on the ground toward home.

  Sychar had a secret girlfriend. And though she was an innocent human, she would probably get my best friend killed.

  And here I dared to judge him, with the taste of a human man still upon my lips. Low, Three. Lower than the serpent crawling upon the filthy ground.

  Duty

  The Original Child scowled at me with her serpentine, oily features. Of all the Vespers, she always s
eemed the least human. Her bald head, black tongue, and refusal to speak set her apart from the rest of us, though she still bore our typical fangs, black eyes and veins over her pallor. She hated putting her Daywear on, and I couldn’t blame her.

  “Please?” I asked as we stood in the crisp, nighttime air outside our Crystal Palace. To the train men, the term Crystal Palace meant home. To us, it meant both home and an actual crystal palace. It glittered in the moonlight behind the Original Child as I held out her black leather hood, the match to the rest of her clothing.

  She crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out at me. We didn’t usually require her to wear her Daywear for travel on the Defensor, but the Gents were extra jumpy and Vashni advised us not to piss them off.

  “Come on. It’s just for extra protection since a train got blown to shit. Help me out here.”

  The Child scoffed and looked away, and I rolled my eyes.

  “Give that to me,” Rachel snapped with a flick to my bottom scar. I stiffened as red rage spread across my vision, and let her snatch the hood out of my hand. Seething, I turned away. It was one thing to have the Original Child witness the aftermath of one of my rages. It was entirely another to have her so close to such violence, and I wasn’t sure my Lady Vashni would ever forgive me for it.

  “Here, sweetie,” Rachel crooned in a horrible, baby voice that made me want to regurgitate a body. “Let’s zip you up.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and the Child met my eyes for a moment. She looked back to Rachel and slapped the hood away, baring her fangs. I turned to smirk with triumph at Rachel and bent to pick it up, and the Original Child held patiently still while I slipped it over her head and zipped it on tight.

  Vashni emerged from her invisibility behind the crystal walls and stepped forth into the night. Her dark features were highlighted by white feathers woven into her long, twisted brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders, half-covering impressive cleavage tucked into a form-fitting, crimson silk gown that pooled around her ankles when she stopped. She bent to kiss her Child’s head once, and the little, mute Vesper – daughter of the Original Immortals – gave her mother a thumbs-up.

  Vashni straightened and searched in the dark, and we followed suit. Through the shadows moved two black figures, sliding forward with the grace of serpents and the strength of men. I knew Sychar’s posture the moment I saw him, even though he wore full Daywear. The other Vesper beside him I assumed to be Festus, and confirmed my suspicions when he peeled off his mask to face my Lady. His dark hair had grown shaggy by his ears, and I wondered if that was because he was missing a pair of clippers. I struggled to hide my smirk at Sychar for the clever theft.

  They stopped and both dropped to one knee, presenting themselves for service in a formal bow. Vashni hummed with pleasure and they rose to their feet. I unrolled my hood from its sleeve around the back of my neck and pulled it over my face, the built-in black goggles only slightly obscuring my vision. I zipped it closed around my neck and yelped when I caught one of my black curls in the zipper. Sychar snorted, and I would have laughed, too, but my sisters took his noise for mockery rather than jest, and burst into peals of taunting laughter. I held my head high and tolerated it with more grace than they deserved.

  “I’d like to remind all our faithful guardians of the importance of your safe journey,” Vashni said, her alto voice ringing through the trees. “With my Child’s continued survival the human race survives, as well. As cursed by the serpent in the Garden, Levitiqas and I both beg your flawless service this night. Should she perish,” Vashni paused as she let her gaze fall upon each of us in turn, “so does your food source.”

  Festus gave a little bow of understanding. As the eldest of the group, he spoke for all of us. “We promise our flawless service, Milady. Thank you for permitting some male muscle on this particular journey. My master takes any heightened security threat with the most solemn severity.”

  Vashni grinned, baring beautiful, white fangs, and her eyes darkened as she spoke of Levitiqas, her former lover. “I know he does. But it is not your muscle my Maids require, dear Gent. Rather, I’m relying on your keen observation of your surroundings, Festus, and Sychar’s glorious, unmatchable speed to whisk my Child to safety should any danger arise.”

  Festus twitched at the insult, but bowed once more. “Of course, Milady.”

  “Any news of the attack, or the perpetrators involved?”

  I listened carefully to Festus’ reply. Any information about it could help me protect Jack, if I could warn him of danger signs.

  “No, Milady. None. We haven’t found any trace of them. For all we know, they weren’t after us: just terrorists trying to cause a scene with a train.”

  “But your master Levitiqas disagrees.”

  Festus hesitated, and then nodded. “Yes. My master always fears the worst in every situation.”

  “A habit he came by through experience, not paranoia.” Vashni’s tone was warning of Festus to mind his manners and not grow complacent with our duties.

  Festus was quick to answer the unsaid warning. “Of course, Milady. Your servants trust his guidance, and yours.”

  I wondered if anyone else heard the hidden annoyance in his words, the way he had to force solemn obedience into his voice. Apparently, Sychar and I weren’t the only ones growing tired of the rules.

  Vashni stroked the top of her Child’s head once more and then flicked her wrist in the air. “Go,” she commanded, and off we went.

  It was a short, fast, exhilarating run through the dark forest to the edge of a clearing surrounding the back bay of the train station. All thirteen of our guard slid out of the shadows like ghosts – ten Maids, two Gents, and the Original Child. Hanging out of the bay was a string of pitch black train cars: the impermeable Defensor, crafted by hand long before I was born by Levi, Festus, and a handful of other Gents. Sychar often expressed longing that he wasn’t yet around when the Defensor was built. His skills as a blacksmith could have aided her creation, and the machine was such a vehicle of pride and black stealth that he wished he had contributed some of his technique.

  We went through the usual motions, though it was bizarre to have Festus lead us instead of Rachel. The driver was one of Festus’ favorites, and they shook hands while the Original Child picked three lesser train men – maintenance workers, rather than the all-important drivers – to accompany us on the journey. Two went up front with the driver, and one stayed in the passenger cabin with all of us to serve our needs until his life came to an end.

  We settled into the passenger car and arranged ourselves around the benches. The Original Child sat between Festus and Rachel. Though the machine was nearly unstoppable, if we came upon another explosion, she’d need protection. They were our strongest Vespers. Their bodies would shield hers, if it came down to that. I found a vacant bench in the far back corner, as far away from the other Maids as I could get, and hunkered down into the seat. I slouched back against the closed steel window and pulled my feet up so I was half-laying on the seat, pulled out my beading pouch and started on a new piece.

  I scowled internally that I didn’t have any more light jade beads, for I’d given Sychar the bracelet with the last ones. I’d have to get more. I settled on some aquamarine beads as the train chugged away. They weren’t quite the same color as Jack’s eyes, but they’d do for now.

  I must have been dozing when a sound rang out from the front of the train and I sprang to my feet, ready to fight.

  Rachel stared back at me impassively from her seat, a small white rectangle in her hand. It was some kind of device playing a song, and that was the sound I heard.

  Festus snickered under his hand and the Child glared up at Rachel with a what-the-hell look. Rachel flashed me a mock-sweet smile and I listened to the lyrics.

  Red swept across my vision and I vaulted over the bench in front of me and stalked down the aisle toward Rachel. Her audacity knew no bounds.

  “What’s wrong, little blind mous
e?” Rachel asked. “It’s just a song. It’s called 3, and it’s by a pretty little human named Britney Spears.”

  “Where’d you get the iPhone?” Another Maid piped up from the back. I didn’t care who. All I could see was Rachel, locked in my raging sights.

  “Off a meal. I wanted to play a song for Three. Just to make sure she knows what she’ll never get to do with anybody, because she’s such a damaged commodity.” She made a show of peering around me, as though checking out my scars.

  Rachel’s antagonism was bad enough in front of my sisters. In front of Sychar, my secret best friend, this was just too much. I stomped forward.

  Hirah jumped to her feet and tried to stop me, but one deadly glare changed her mind. All I saw was red. Rachel dared to mock me here, in the Defensor? In front of the men? She knew what a risk it was to cast a sexual light on me at all because my creator was male, and I was susceptible to the permanent ownership of any Gent who decided to force himself upon me. To play a song with such suggestive lyrics... it was beyond appalling, and my blood boiled. Hirah stepped aside.

  I snarled at Rachel, and Festus’ eyes lit with anticipation. He loved a good fight at the expense of anyone. But the little iPhone silenced with a crunch I didn’t see coming, and before I knew it I was at the back of the passenger car, away from Rachel, and Sychar stood between the two of us. He’d moved me out of the way so fast I didn’t even notice his touch.

  “Enough,” he said. “Neither of our masters would approve of a fight this close to her.” He gestured to the Original Child, who sank into her seat with relief. I scowled. Sychar was right.

  “You’re such a fucking buzz kill,” Festus said.

  Rachel whipped the remnants of her stolen phone across the train at me. Sychar slapped them away midair and they clattered to the sides, missing me altogether. A few Maids shrieked as pieces hit them unexpectedly, and I took a steadying breath to help the red recede from my vision. I nodded at Sychar and he tossed me a salute. A leather cord dangled out from his sleeve, and my heart flipped over once that this unlikely brother of mine wore the bracelet I gave him for Samantha, rather than just carrying it in a pocket until he saw her again.