by Ian Thomas
“From what I can tell the vampires will be divided. Older ones will cope but be overthrown by the younger ones. They’ll feed and spawn mercilessly.”
“And the wolves?”
“Depends. For the most part, if the vampires go hard core in feeding and building numbers, the wolves will sire to match them. They have the lunar cycle to contend with so they’ll be on the back foot from the get-go. But once up to strength, they’ll be ruthless.”
“Say the vampires don’t do that. Hypothetically speaking.”
“Okay so as the world is now but no accords,” he pondered. “Ya know sometimes it’s easier to go worst case scenario here.”
“Humor me.”
“Not sure if you got this but there’s a certain level of arrogance about wolves since they get to be human most of the month and then turn at the full moon. Plus if they can control the change, means they’re quite powerful. So they see themselves as elevated. Evolved.”
“Ben’s rhetoric.”
“And he was not nearly as zealous as some.”
“Colton?”
“That asshole. Thankfully he’s dead.”
“But there’re wolves like him?”
“Some. Not many. But those who are, are powerful.” He checked the sauce and turned the heat down. “Take Blackthorne. He was a supporter of Colton’s in the war and now he’s the regent of Western Europe. Then there’s Naeem in Northern Africa. Carlos in Central America and that’s some well-placed extremists should things need to move.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, and while Matteo is respected among the bulk of the wolves, there’s obviously some lingering sentiment that he’s lost touch.”
“Going to ground for the last month can’t have helped either.”
“Hence, he’s a little nervous about Blackthorne being here.”
“What about the wiccan community?”
“Sexist fear with a soupçon of misogyny thrown in the mix.”
She laughed.
“No really, the witches are probably the most powerful and the most invested in humanity. So they’ll rise up to protect the rest of the planet. And some will go dark to shut the other factions down. If there’s no uprising, they’ll continue much as they do now – keep to themselves, monitor the balance, ward off what they can.”
“Seems a little…limited.”
“Oh hadn’t you heard?” he asked sarcastically. “Humanity’s made witches the biggest villains. Long history of burning and drowning their kind. Our greatest protectors, vilified.”
“What about elsewhere? I mean the accords were between Matteo, Gracchus, and Yael right? That seems pretty localized.”
“Nicely spotted. Thing was the war wasn’t quite so localized and the communities here at the time were the strongest. Them signing had a ripple-effect on the other vampire courts, packs, and covens. The feeling was that if those other places declared themselves free states, their boundaries would be compromised and strife would ensue. Basically shifting conflict from place to place.”
“Hold up, you mean there was a little foresight in accepting the accords. As in common sense exists?”
“Odd I know. With Matteo leading the charge he was temporary Pack Lord so he spoke for all the packs. The Troika resisted but such were the atrocities committed against vampires they merely bowed out of the decision and left it to Gracchus.”
“So he agreed for all vampires? Globally?”
“Pretty much. The Troika are a whole other story. They just said they didn’t oppose the accords.”
“And the witches?”
“Interestingly they were the last to sign. And that came down to pride and ego. Pride that they hadn’t championed the idea in the first place.”
“And ego?”
“Because Yael had ties to both Matteo and Daniel, Rowan’s husband. In the end she had to agree or they would have renounced her.”
“And this was all you?” Rebecca asked.
“Not all me,” he deflected, focusing on the meal as it cooked.
“From what I read it was mostly you.”
“And mostly unkind.”
“Some. And some wrote very highly of you.”
“Like?”
“Arizona Chase. He’s a pretty decent guy.”
“It’s the jawline isn’t it? I just can’t pull that off.”
“Sure, he’s hot but a good guy. He holds you in very high regard. Won’t admit to that but I got a sense of admiration from him.”
“Somerset doesn’t like me.”
“Oh you need to talk to Rowan about that one. Think you might find it quite interesting.”
“Tell me,” he chided, pulling her into a kiss.
“No, I wasn’t there. Apparently this is first-hand reference only.” She kissed him, realizing just how much she’d missed him over the weekend. “Hey, how long’s dinner away?”
“Bout ten minutes, why?” In response, she slipped her hand past his waistband and into his jeans. A second later, he jerked backwards. “No!”
“Really?” she asked, shocked.
“Yes, really. No sex, no touching, there probably shouldn’t be any kissing.”
“I’m confused.”
“Where are we?” he asked.
“Your place.”
“Which is where?”
“Oh, the chapel,” she replied, then looked at him quizzically. “Uh, I went to Catholic girls’ school.”
“You got kicked out.”
“But I stayed long enough to learn what can and cannot constitute as ‘no sex’.”
“Nonononono those rules don’t extend to a church.”
“Then maybe don’t invite me over for a romantic dinner after a weekend apart.”
“Yeah right, this was my idea wasn’t it? Not one of my best.”
“That you’re aware of this much is a start,” she replied. “But still…”
“Sorry, no sex. You do get that I have to go to Matteo’s just to jer–”
“Whoa, I do not need to know that.”
“Not just to…ya know…not like I’m some sort of rampant mast–”
“You get we’re mature adults right?”
“You get the parish priest is a family member right? Guilt to an exponential level. And he’ll know.”
“Somewhere Dylan is laughing his ass off right now,” Rebecca said, taking her wine and stepping out of the kitchen. McLachlan banged his head repeatedly against the cupboard and returned to cooking.
“So…” she said, trying to find a neutral subject. “Tell me about the vampire court. Kind of intrigued by them now.”
“Just annoys me they take so long to do anything,” he complained, before recounting the events of the previous evening. Nothing’s gonna kill passion more than politics, he thought. Unless it’s vampire politics. Then any and all passion is pretty much dead and buried.
XXIII
Who lives in a glass-encased apartment in a skyscraper, Holly thought, blinking against the dawning sky.
Not vampires.
Slipping into the apartment, she figured she had a few minutes before the sky was ablaze. And well, her also.
“You have barista on your lips,” a voice said nearby. Silhouetted against the sky stood Henry, his powerful frame ominous.
“I do like my morning pick me up,” she chided, aware of the sky behind him and death on the horizon.
He was angry. She could feel it radiating off him. About time, she thought, what did it take to fire this guy up?
“And I like my associates to be more careful.”
“Associate?”
“I know about the coffee shop. Your dalliance with the wolf. Your lust for the other one.”
“Itches need to be scratched, H-dog. Maybe you should try it sometime?” she replied haughtily.
In a blur, he’d grabbed her about the throat and slammed her against the wall.
“I will not have my plans endangered by a silly little girl.”
; “Oh you mean all the plans where I’m doing the actual dirty work? Those plans? Because all I see you doing is sitting up here in this tower like some Bond villain doing fuck all.”
She pushed him off, surprised that she could. Striding into the east-facing living room, she lowered the blinds. Immediately her skin cooled and she felt emboldened.
“Speaking of fuck all.” Holly turned, Henry now in complete shadow down the hall. “There’s a lot you haven’t told me about being a vampire either. Like maybe that feeding off your precious little wolf amps up my control. Like a lot.”
“Are you done?” he growled.
“Not really. What’s a siren any–” The blind behind her spun back up, bathing her in the first rays of sunlight. Flames erupted from her skin and hair, the pain unlike any she’d known.
Screaming, she dove for a dark corner. Henry strode into the room, the rest of the blinds rising.
“The fuck’re you doing? Are you mad?!” she cried, her body on fire. Like literally on fire. Not literally as in how she usually used the word but actually on fire.
“Putting you in your place,” he said, trapping her behind the low sofa, sunlight filling the room. He stood somewhere in the room, a smile warming his cold words. “You’re a thing for the shadows. For the night. You do what I say.”
Suddenly the sofa moved. Inching away from her, allowing the sunlight to poison her safe space. She wouldn’t be able to move without more pain, more fire.
“Please Henry,” she whimpered, tucking herself desperately from the light spill. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
Silence.
“No, you don’t really mean anything do you? That would require thought.”
Darkness reclaimed the room. Her skin cooled, hair no longer burning. Once the room was cool and dark once more, she stood up. Why was he so angry? He wasn’t the one the whole vampire court was chasing.
“I had to lay low,” she said haughtily. “That was as good a place as any. Besides your pet’s pretty resistant to my influence. Only lasts a couple of days at a time. So I had to stick around. Ya know do your dirty work.”
“Feed off him then.” Holly walked to him, her body still painful but excited by this game.
“Oh I do,” she smiled, standing before him, her hand on his torso. “Wolf blood is damn tasty.”
“Uh-uh-uh,” he said when she kissed his neck, fangs scraping the skin. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”
“But you don’t feed me,” she threw back. “House me, yes, but I pretty much eat alone these days like some pathetic schlub from a mid-west armpit state.”
“I didn’t realize it had been so hard for you.”
“Oh, I’m not complaining. Obvi having you around when I do feed would be totes annoying. Like having my dad with me. Ew. Gross.”
“Well, you seem to be coping admirably.”
“I’m super resourceful like that,” she replied. “Picking up things here and there. Plus I’ve had some help.”
“Help?”
“Yeah, no big. This old-as vampire. Totes good bitch though.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, she wants to meet you. Don’t worry, I didn’t give away any of your deets or anything. But she’s not so much a fangirl of her vamp squad. So yeah, you keen?”
Henry took a moment before replying. “Set it up. I’d be very interested to hear what she has to say.”
“Totes, anywho, is there like a blood bag in the fridge?” Holly asked, heading to the kitchen. “Kinda sore here.” In response, the door closed as Henry left the apartment.
XXIV
“He shoots!” Jason heard the voice yell followed by a loud thud and then a triumphant, “he scores!!”
Behind the coffee shop, Mitch was taking out the trash and typically slacking off at the same time. No doubt the Daily Grind was busy, drink orders backing up, the staff feeling under pressure, the customers getting antsy, and here was Mitch shooting hoops with the garbage.
“Hey dude,” Mitch said, seeing Jason walk into the alley. “How’s it going?”
“Good.”
“Haven’t seen you since…”
“Yeah,” Jason said, making eye contact. “Since then.”
“How’ve you been? Heard you joined a gym.”
“Just finished leg day. Good times.”
“Can’t skip leg day,” Mitch laughed.
“Well, yeah, getting called scrawny will do that to a person.”
“I never called you scrawny.”
“It was implied.”
“Hey, can we get past this? You’re a good dude, I liked working with you.”
“I used to think you were a good dude too.” Jason caught himself before he dragged up too much of the past. “Plus, ya know with Malcolm gone, someone had to do the over nights.”
“Yeah, but you’re like ‘gone guy’. M-I-A and all. People miss you. I…miss you.”
“You never noticed me.”
“That’s not fair. Just got awkward with the leering. Okay that was harsh. Sorry.”
“S’okay. I made peace with it.”
“But hey you should give Danny a shot man. He really likes you. And he’s got a pretty decent bod, so ya know win-win.”
“What? Because you don’t want him anymore?”
“No, not like – shit you just wanna fight, don’t you?!”
Jason was quiet for a moment. His temper simmering below the surface. But it wasn’t Mitch he was angry at. He just couldn’t work out where he should direct his anger.
“No,” he replied sullenly. “I should probably thank you. I’m enjoying the gym. I haven’t felt this good in ages.”
“That’s great. I’m sure you’ll see results in no time,” Mitch said. “Then maybe you can stop with the baggy look.”
“You don’t like?” Jason asked, pulling at his big hoodie.
“Not really. I mean the beard’s cool. And as always you’re rocking the beanie, but you looked better with that real fitted hipster look. Plus it’ll show off your gym bod something wicked.”
“You pay more attention to my clothes than I do. You sure you’re just bi?”
“Pretty sure,” Mitch laughed. “Hey, so didn’t you have a name or something for me?”
“Not you,” Jason replied falteringly. “More my crush on you and the fact that you didn’t notice me at all.”
“Yeah,” Mitch said, cowed, “that.”
“The Mitch-uation.”
Mitch laughed. A genuine belly laugh. With a smile he looked at Jason, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“As only you would,” Jason sniped. “Sorry that came out harsh.” He was about to explain more when the door swung open and a very wet Blake stood fuming on the step.
“There you are! We need you. Oh hey Jase. We could use you too. Tap burst.”
Both men moved with purpose. The tap hadn’t burst in ages but when it did it blew big. And at that time of the morning it would only cause chaos. Jason grabbed the toolkit and slid it across the floor. Mitch started heaving boxes and bags out of the flood zone. Blake headed back into the coffee shop to resume service, her wet hair swept up under a cap.
“Can’t we just shut off the water?” Mitch called out.
“No, then we’ll have to shut the store.”
“That a bad thing?”
“You like getting paid?”
“Good point.”
To his credit, Mitch cleared the space quickly then joined Jason at the sink trying to turn the large wrench and shut off the burst pipe.
“One more turn and we’re good,” Jason said, gritting his teeth. Together, they managed to reduce the flow and stop the flood. Mitch stepped back, the effort plumping his muscles. He looked down at the sodden t-shirt and back at Jason.
“You get a two second look for the spank bank and that’s it.”
“The ego on you.”
Then Mitch saw that Jason was even more sodden them himself.
&nbs
p; “Shit dude, you’re soaked.”
“I got it, I got it,” Jason said, pushing him off. But Mitch already had hold of Jason’s jacket and was taking it off. Beneath Jason’s white tee was plastered to his torso.
“Holy fuck,” Mitch said, stepping back in astonishment.
“What?” Jason asked.
“You,” Mitch said, struggling with the words. “You’re…cut.”
“Screw you.”
“Nah, man, seriously.” Mitch dropped Jason’s jacket and stepped closer. He started to peel off the t-shirt, admiring the body beneath, but Jason stopped him. “Wow, the gym suits you.”
Dangerously close, Jason could feel Mitch’s breath hot on his face. He smelled good, strong.
“Sorry I was a dick to you,” Mitch said, his hand on Jason’s hip.
“Sorry I leered.”
“Maybe…we – ya know…” Mitch didn’t finish the sentence, instead kissing Jason. His hand moved to the small of Jason’s back and pulled him closer. Their bulging jeans rubbed against each other.
Then Jason’s hands were pushing against Mitch, forcing him back.
“Sure, I’m gay,” Jason said, the earlier embarrassment burning in his mind. “But doesn’t mean I’m gonna play with just any guy. Especially one who treats me like shit until I ‘roid up and get cut.”
“‘Roids? You fucken dumb?”
“Don’t act like you suddenly care. You’re an asshole and I’m just really glad I see that now.”
“Jase, wait!” Mitch called, but Jason was already walking out into the alley, feeling good about himself for the first time in…
Was it wrong that he couldn’t remember the last time he felt happy, he worried, heading up the back stairs to the haunted apartment.
XXV
Angry, Mitch stormed into the main service area, fists balling.
“Thanks,” Blake called out. “Could you–”
“On it,” he barked, grabbing the trash bags and gloves.
Slamming from one bin to the next, he didn’t notice the concerned looks around him. Which was a good thing as he would have unloaded on anyone and everyone. Not that he was the one people needed to worry about.
