Deadly Assessments

by Drew Hayes

  It wasn’t hard to figure out the angle she was coming from, especially after a Vegas Thanksgiving surrounded by dracolings. “Because, while dragons might not respect the authority of your Blood Council, every dragon respects the integrity of a bargain. You want me to trade away Gideon’s protection in exchange for your agreement to kill only me if this goes badly?”

  “Spot-on.” Not an ounce of guile or annoyance slipped through. Was Deborah a master deceiver, or did she genuinely not care that I’d realized what she was doing?

  That was yet one more thing to ponder in a day that had already given me several things to mull over. Mercifully, the deal she offered wasn’t one I had to waste thought on. “You have yourself a bargain.”

  Deborah’s eyebrows rose several inches, surprise plain on her face. “Just like that?”

  “They’re only in danger because they wanted to help me. The least I can do as the head of this clan is to keep them safe. So yes, just like that. Or was the deal not genuine?”

  “Oh, it was genuine all right,” Deborah confirmed. “I guess I was expecting you to ask more questions about what the evaluation entails.”

  “I have countless questions to ask, but protecting my people comes first. Now, if you want—”

  The sound of a door opening cut me off. People poured back into the trade show. Evidently, whatever trick Deborah had used had worn off, or she’d summoned them to return in a way I didn’t notice. Unlike me, she was unsurprised, hopping out of her chair with a quick bound.

  “Pleasure speaking with you, Fred. I’m going to send this information back up the chain for now and leave you to the rest of your day. Take care of yourself. I’ll see you again soon.”

  With only a few steps, Deborah merged into the crowd, passing through them like they weren’t even there, making it off the trade show floor in seconds despite going against the flow of traffic. I didn’t try to stop or follow her, as that would have put me in pointless peril. Whatever the Blood Council wanted with me, they’d reach out when it suited them.

  Until then, I clearly needed to learn more about what I was up against. And perhaps I’d put some affairs in order, just in case.

  9.

  The rest of the day, what little remained, passed without incident. Since Deborah was gone, I called Lillian and had her rejoin me at the booth, partly for the company, but also to keep her in sight. I didn’t know Deborah well enough to be sure she was sincere about keeping my clan out of our situation, and Lillian’s description of the Blood Council had hardly painted them as models of restraint. It wasn’t as though I’d be able to do anything if Deborah did attack, not if she was as old and powerful as the rumors indicated, but at least having two of us there might enable Lillian to escape while I employed diversionary tactics. Until I knew more, the best moves I could make were ones that prioritized safety above all else.

  As such, we didn’t hang around the trade show once the sun began to set. Since the booth was already wrecked, Lillian and I decided to take the thing down early. The organizers of the event wouldn’t be happy, but between an assault and a near-riot, I suspected that Fletcher Accounting Services wasn’t going to get an invitation next year, regardless. Although it had taken me a long while, I’d eventually learned that it was impossible to stay on everyone’s good side, so, rather than trying, I focused on the choices that gave Lillian and me our best chances of survival. Getting out of there before true nightfall was a big step toward safety, since right now, at least, we were only dealing with Deborah. Once the sun was down, she could summon any number of reinforcements with ease.

  Lillian had quick hands, and I’d dealt with the booth enough to disassemble it by memory. By the time night was upon us, we had already packed everything into the truck with the enchanted glass (so vampires didn’t turn crispy) that we had rented for the day and were just pulling onto the highway.

  There was minimal conversation as we drove. I filled Lillian in on the deal Deborah and I had made, just to be safe. If something happened to me, I wanted there to be others who knew my clan was owed mercy. As much as dragons respected a bargain, they had no tolerance for those who broke such deals. The sooner I could make certain Gideon knew the score, the safer everyone would be. To that end, I called Richard and left a message breaking down the situation. He would ensure Gideon was abreast of the new developments.

  It was nice to ride in relative silence. It allowed me time to process my thoughts. Most of the others would have been upset with me for making such a decision, for putting myself in danger to keep them safe. Lillian was far from heartless, but she was also older and more pragmatic than many of those in our group. She was the sort who could see that, if one situation risked the entire clan, and another risked only me, there was really no other choice I could have taken. Given her obvious research, Deborah had no doubt known I’d make that decision going in, even if she’d been surprised by how quickly I’d reached the conclusion. Maybe I could have pressed the Gideon advantage to make her back off completely, but I knew that wouldn’t be a permanent solution. Slowly, I was learning to think in the long-term, like any ageless being should.

  Using Gideon might have bought me some breathing room, if he was feeling helpful and things broke just right; however, sooner or later, things would change. He might get old and step down, or die. One of us could move, changing his sphere of influence. Eventually, something would change, and when it did, I’d be back to staring at the Blood Council, only this time, they’d be looking for payback for being forced to back off. Better to face the issue now, while we were on amicable terms, no bad blood between us. It was the best shot I had at a fair evaluation, whatever that entailed. And if things did go wrong, at least I wouldn’t drag the people I cared about down with me.

  “Fredrick, that’s not one of our vehicles.”

  Lillian’s voice snapped me out of my reverie, and I realized we’d arrived at Charlotte Manor. Unpacking the truck should have been our first concern, but I followed Lillian’s gaze to the gray minivan parked near the front of the lot. It was nondescript, the kind of automobile one could see in droves outside a school or soccer game. The only distinguishing feature was a bright yellow bumper sticker with thick red words. It had the word “I,” then a cartoon heart, followed by the words “Blood Donors.” Silly as it was, the sight still sent a shiver up my spine.

  I started to tell Lillian to wait in the car, but thought better of it. Charlotte Manor was a fortress when it wanted to be. Lillian had a better chance of survival inside those walls than outside, especially with an ancient vampire in the mix. I wasn’t sure if Charlotte could stand up to an opponent like that, but I knew she’d hold out longer than Lillian would in the open air.

  Together, we made our way across the parking lot, lit now by the stars of the new night. I didn’t bother with a knock; instead, I opened the door firmly, albeit with at least some care, in case someone stood on the other side. Sure enough, Deborah was there in the foyer, having a discussion with the elderly woman form Charlotte often wore when working the main desk. She could look like anyone or anything, since her true form was, in fact, the house itself, and she tended to use different faces to fill specific roles.

  After a few steps, I realized that Deborah and the old woman weren’t the only ones here. Arch had appeared from around a corner, a small stack of papers in hand. “If you could sign these last two forms, then I think we’re all set to go.”

  “Gladly. And just in time, at that; looks like the man of the hour has finally joined us.” Deborah turned, looking to Lillian and me as we made our way inside. “Don’t worry. The tedious parts have all been handled. While you and I were having our talk, the Blood Council sent representatives to meet with the agent currently in charge of your safety. All the forms have been filled out, and the boxes are checked, so the little arrangement we made this afternoon is nice and legal.”

  “Fred still has to sign them and formally agree to the terms,” Arch reminded her. To me, he said,
“Take your time and read them over. We’re using standard forms for the most part, and the rest were checked over by Agency lawyers. I’m sorry about this, I am, however the Blood Council is acting within the law.”

  “It’s fine, Arch. I know the limits agents have to work within. Although I do find it strange that the Blood Council sent a representative on the same day Krystal suddenly left for a mysterious trip.”

  Deborah didn’t so much as blink. “That wasn’t strange. It was planned. An agent with her history was seen as a risk-element, someone who might not play by the rules when a person she loved was on the line. We knew about her request to the Queen of Winter, so we reached out to the fey and created a coordinated timetable. It was the best way to ensure that everything went smoothly, regardless of the outcome.”

  When Deborah said it like that, the situation made total sense. In truth, I probably would have done the exact same thing had our positions been reversed. That fact alone worried me. Most everyone I’d faced or dealt with in the parahuman world had approached problems from a position of strength. They had faith in their power, or their organization, and had proceeded forward as if the idea of defeat was unfathomable. Deborah, a vampire who supposedly ranked amongst the most dangerous in existence, wasn’t doing that. She’d laid plans, thought ahead, moved troublesome pieces off the game board before I’d even known we were playing. Deborah acted like someone who knew it was possible for her to lose and had no intention of doing so. Everything she’d done so far had pinned me down to the exact decisions she’d wanted me to make. And worse, she was about to get her way yet again.

  I gave the papers a thorough read, but Arch was right. Aside from the addendum about putting myself in danger to spare the rest of the clan, it was really pretty boilerplate. Not only was it legal, they even had a default form for dealing with the Blood Council stepping in to check on a clan. I wondered if this happened more than other vampires realized, or if there had just been some temp that went above and beyond in document specialization. It didn’t really matter either way, and I pushed the idea aside as I signed the pages. Even knowing I was being walked into the choice, I still couldn’t make any other move. This ensured the safety of my friends. When it was just me on the line, I might be able to get creative, or take risks. Not on this part, though.

  When the last page was signed, Arch collected the papers from me. “Charlotte has prepared dinner, if you two want to have a private discussion. No blood, I’m afraid.”

  “I can get blood on my own, but from what I’ve read, the cuisine here is impeccable,” Deborah replied, a new burst of enthusiasm running through her. “Truth be told, half the reason I took this assignment was an excuse to try Charlotte’s legendary cooking. Would someone be so kind as to tell me where to drop my bags?”

  Through a nearby door, a wide-necked man with thick arms appeared—another form of Charlotte’s, this one serving as a porter. “No need, ma’am. They will be in your room when dinner is finished.”

  With all that had been going on, I think it’s forgivable that I didn’t snap to the realization when Deborah mentioned her bag. “I’m sorry, her room?”

  “Where else would I stay while evaluating a vampire than at his clan’s base? Aside from which, can you name a single place in this town with better food, service, safety, and parahuman accommodations?” Deborah patted the wooden front counter, not far from where the old woman still stood, silent now that she was no longer needed. “I should also remind you that Charlotte Manor is technically incorporated as a bed and breakfast, so I booked a room and paid the rate. The Blood Council doesn’t freeload. We’re patrons.”

  “Are you okay with that, Charlotte?” I wasn’t sure how she might feel about this, despite her human faces appearing placid.

  “Arch told me that in the long-term, this will make things easier on you, so as long as Deborah obeys the manor rules, she is welcome to stay here.” It was the porter who answered my question, hefting her bags effortlessly as he spoke.

  One by one, Deborah ticked off the rules on her fingers. “No violence toward other guests outside of self-defense, no smoking except in the smoking lounge, no trying to enter another guest’s room without permission . . . the list goes on. I imagine that even if I did manage to forget a rule, Charlotte would make sure to keep me on the straight and narrow, not that you need worry about any of that. If the forms didn’t give it away, I am very much about doing things by the book. If Fred fails, he’ll have time to say his goodbyes and prepare for the punishment. I’m not going to secretly rip his head off in the night or anything. On that note, though, I think it’s time you and I had a discussion. What do you say, Fred? Will you join me for dinner?”

  It wasn’t really a question. Deborah had walked into my secure home and moved both the agents in my life out of the way—one by distance, the other by protocol. In a single day, she’d positioned herself in complete control of the situation, and done it with casual ease. Kind as Deborah had been through the discussions thus far, her message was impossible to misinterpret: this was her show. I’d done well so far by playing along, and there was no sound reason to break that pattern just yet. Not until I knew what I was dealing with.

  “Dinner sounds lovely. Let’s go see what Charlotte has prepared.”

  10.

  We ate alone. The rest of the house was being served elsewhere. To her credit, Deborah’s polite demeanor continued as we sat down. She thanked every server, and then waited until I’d been served as well before breaking into the main point of the conversation.

  “You must be wondering what an evaluation entails. Usually, we’d have gone over it by this point, but I didn’t want to muddy the waters before we’d handled that whole clan and Gideon issue.”

  “Which is to say, you didn’t want me too scared to put myself on the line.”

  There was a flicker of genuine surprise in Deborah’s eyes, and her soup spoon paused halfway up from the bowl. “Now, that’s just a downright mean thing to say, Fred. I decided to get that detail squared away because I thought it would be the one you cared about most. Did you really want to sit through the tedium of a breakdown before you were fully assured that your clan would be safe?”

  She had a point there. I wasn’t sure if the surprise and feigned hurt were in any way sincere, but quickly realized it didn’t matter. Deborah was being polite and forthright about the situation, a situation she had not created. The House of Turva had done that when they called in the Blood Council; Deborah was fulfilling a duty of her position, nothing more. And, if I was being honest with myself, she could have stormed into my life far less pleasantly than she had. Even messing with us during the trade show was paltry compared to what her authority entailed. Boilerplate or not, I’d still read every word of those contracts used by the Blood Council.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry for being rude. My experiences with other vampires have been mixed, to say the least, but I know better than anyone that you deserve to be judged for your own actions, not for those of others like you. I’m a little nervous about the situation as a whole; however, that’s still not an excuse to conduct myself poorly, especially with someone who has been so pleasant. Aside from messing with the humans around my booth, I mean.”

  “Just a little test to see how you handled the unexpected.” Deborah paused to finally eat that spoonful of soup and made a soft noise of delight in her throat. “Oh my, that is fantastic. If this whole meal is that good, then the rumors have undersold Charlotte’s level of skill.”

  Aside from Lillian, Deborah was the first vampire I’d encountered who ate human cuisine. Vampires didn’t get nutrition from mundane food, of course, but that didn’t stop our taste buds from working. “The last vampire we had over was Petre from the House of Turva. He seemed to think eating human food was beneath us as vampires.”

  “Petre is a child putting on bluster so others will think him stronger than he is.” Another spoonful of soup made it to Deborah’s mouth, followed by a few m
ore before she continued. “Of course, to me, anyone who has yet to pass a millennium is a child, so take the word with a measure of salt. My point is that Petre feels the need to put on airs to impress those around him. When a vampire reaches my age, there are very few beings they worry about impressing, so I’m free to do as I please. And that very much includes eating delicious food when it’s put in front of me.” She took a few more sips and finished the bowl. “This is speculation, of course, but I suspect that might also be why so many people are unnerved by you, Fred.”

  “I’m sorry, unnerved? I don’t want to be rude again, but please understand that I have trouble seeing how anyone like me could make other parahumans worried about anything other than a tax audit.”

  Deborah shifted her bowl to the side, making room for the next course. “Trust me, if I thought you understood what you were doing, we’d be having a very different conversation. The fact remains though—you are worrying people, Fred. You refuse to play the game, you keep breaking rules and traditions with minimal regard, and you continuously accrue new allies across the parahuman world. Look at yourself: a sweater vest and khakis? You act as though you genuinely don’t care what the rest of the vampire world thinks. And there are only two kinds of people who do that: the ones who sincerely don’t know better, and the ones who are so strong they can get away with it. Now, given your track record and the number of alliances you have, which box do you imagine people have started putting you into?”

  This wasn’t the first time I’d been forced to take a look at my life from the outside, without context or perspective. Yes, on paper, my friends and I had done a lot: stopped a mad vampire, saved a dragon from imprisonment, rebuffed another clan’s attempt to take over, forged an official alliance with the Agency. And that was without examining how powerful the House of Fred technically was. Our membership was small, but in it were a high-ranking therian, a genius mage, a prodigy necromancer, and a zombie who wielded a weapon of destiny. We’d gotten here through some smart moves and a lot of lucky breaks, yet it was hard to deny how someone who wasn’t there for each event might view the sum of the parts as more than the whole. Still, the thought that it was all intentional, that I was some mad vampire amassing power, seemed like an even greater stretch of the imagination.