“I managed to circle back to the dumpsters through the building,” Elizabeth said once satisfied with Clara’s response. “The cops were not interested in the alley. They were focused on what that red-head unleashed.”
“One hell of a distraction she put on,” Clara said with a grin.
Elizabeth chuckled nervously. It was clear that these particular memories left her feeling uneasy.
“Can anyone from your order even define the word subtle?” Elizabeth asked.
Clara broke out in laughter, saying, “Most can, but I was always the bull in a China shop.”
“You know they busted that?” Elizabeth asked. “Bulls run around the shelves, showing more grace than some dancers.”
“Really?” Clara said. “I really need to get started learning all of this trivia and slang.”
Despite the banter, Clara was acutely aware that Elizabeth was distracted by her chest. The white blouse was sticking to her clammy flesh and showed the perfect outline of her breasts. Fortunately, the bra provided enough padding to conceal her hardened nipples. After all, it was cold out there in the rain.
“I need a—” Clara said.
“You need a change of clothes,” Elizabeth said concurrently.
“That would be lovely,” Clara said with a smile.
Her eyes avoided the other’s outfit, or lack thereof. Elizabeth wore a bathrobe, and the longer she stood there without adjusting, the more her cleavage showed. Clara knew why she had these feelings. Unfortunately, that did not make this any easier to deal with.
“Head into the bathroom, take a warm shower, and dry off,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll find you something to wear.”
With that, Elizabeth made things easier for the both of them. She left Clara alone in the living room. She lingered long enough to shake any cobwebs loose from her mind before moving on to the next step.
* * * *
By the time Clara was dry and changed, the smell of brewed coffee filled the air. Elizabeth was at the counter, wearing something less distracting, which managed to relieve and disappoint Clara.
She approached the counter casually, wearing a jean skirt that went down to her knees and a thick white denim shirt. Clara was beginning to learn the joys of a sports bra. While a bit snug, it did much to support the girls without a lot of complexity.
These clothes were decidedly not Elizabeth’s style. Even now, her friend looked ready for the office. There was an air of professionalism that surrounded her, and this outfit was anything but.
Elizabeth tossed her two long, grey wool stockings. Clara would not have been caught dead in these during her time, but they suited the overall theme.
“Here,” Elizabeth said. “You’ll need these.”
Clara knew they would be itchy for a while, but at least they would keep her warm, even when soaking wet. She sat down and slipped them on sensibly, to avoid making this a sensual experience. In the background, her eyes discerned that Elizabeth was deep in thought.
“Thank you,” Clara said with a smile. “That smells great.”
“Anything is better than that diner’s coffee,” Elizabeth said flatly. “Although, not by much.”
There was a pause as a moment of uncomfortable silence filled the space between them. Something was on their minds, but neither knew how to broach the subject.
Fortunately, the coffee maker began to make loud noises as the last of the water cycled through the system. Elizabeth turned her attention to that while Clara finished slipping on the stockings. Unlike the rest of her outfit, these were a bit big as though they had been intended for someone much taller.
On a hunch, Clara looked over towards Elizabeth and noticed that her gold band was gone. A white void was left in its place, a hint that this was not a simple case of guilt or infatuation.
A cup of coffee, milk, and a five pound bag of sugar was placed on the counter. Elizabeth smirked, choosing to take hers black while Clara sweetened it mildly before taking a sip. They both sighed contentedly, wrapping their hands around the hot ceramic, and let the heat radiate into their hands.
“That was one hell of a weekend,” Elizabeth said.
Clara had not been aware of the date, time, or even the season. While the latter was easy enough to guess, weather could nonetheless deceive an outsider.
“So today is Monday?” Clara asked.
Elizabeth nodded, looked into the swirling pool of black elixir, and sighed.
“This was probably the single-most fucked up weekend I’ve ever had,” Elizabeth said. “I can’t tell a soul can I?”
“No.” Clara said. “How would you treat a patient who described what you went through?”
“Point taken,” Elizabeth said. She took a sip as a distraction and said, “Saturday morning, I was happily married, looking to help a lost friend. Like most, I assumed that vampires—and angels—were works of fiction.”
“And—,” Clara tried to say.
Elizabeth raised her hand, fingers together and palm facing Clara. This was her way of telling the other to stop interrupting, so she could get this off her chest.
“Today I know that my friend is dead, that these things do in fact exist, and that includes you…” Elizabeth trailed off. Another sip of her coffee imbued her with strength, even if only imagined, before she added, “I also learned that I was never married.”
“What?” Clara asked, realising why Elizabeth had been pacing before her arrival.
“She’s on tour,” Elizabeth said. “Those are her things in our—my bedroom. So imagine my surprise when I saw the announcement that she had recently tied the knot with her long-time friend and confidant.”
“I’m sorry—” Clara tried to say.
“Are you?” Elizabeth hissed. “I’ve seen how you’ve been eyeing me.”
“I’m—” Clara said.
“Sorry?” Elizabeth confirmed. “So that’s what you planned to tell me when you got in here?”
Clara simply nodded. It was clear that Elizabeth had managed to tie up all of her emotions and thoughts into a coherent bundle. That clarity enabled her to channel it constructively, and spared Clara from having to do the same.
Elizabeth finished off her coffee and poured herself another. She took a quick glance at Clara’s cup and topped it up for good measure. Clara smiled appreciatively and would not say another world until needed.
“I thought about going with you, wherever you are headed,” Elizabeth said. “In the end, I realised that you didn’t need me slowing you down. Nor did you need me to muddy the waters with all of this tension.”
Clara nodded once more and felt her heart grow lighter with every word. Elizabeth was pushing forward the exact same statements that Clara envisioned herself saying. Since these words were meant to soften the blow for Clara, it effectively made this a victory.
“Either way,” Elizabeth said. “I still have a job to do, kids that need me. At least I can make a difference in their lives.”
Elizabeth finished off her second cup of coffee, paused, and smiled before she went around the counter. She showed no signs of hesitation and placed her hands firmly on Clara’s shoulders before closing the distance between their lips.
Clara just went with it, enjoying the fact that someone else knew how to take charge. When their lips touched, all of that tension and anxiety washed away, replaced by a passion that enveloped them.
Clara parted her lips and found that Elizabeth was a step ahead. Their tongues touched, hesitating momentarily before diving into the dance. When Elizabeth pulled back, both of them were short of breath.
“I needed that,” Elizabeth said. “In a couple of days, once this fucking shitstorm sinks in, I may realise that all of this was a result of you saving my life. Just like you may come to learn that what you needed was intimacy, and I just happened to be there.”
She then tossed a phone on the counter, along with a charger and cable. It was the phone she lifted from that dive bar, and it seemed to be working fine.
“You got some messages when I plugged it in,” Elizabeth said as she slid a pad towards her. “I wrote them down here for you and added my number to the phone.”
Elizabeth walked over to the door and picked up her coat, purse, and keys. She was bundling up for the cold but, despite the journey ahead, she wore a smile.
“You can grab a coat that fits from… her… closet,” Elizabeth said. “Now if you need a place to crash…”
“That’s too—,” Clara said.
Elizabeth cut her off and said, “My couch will always be available to you. Just make sure to use the window, so this door stays locked.”
With nothing more to say, she left Clara alone in the apartment. Clara let the silence sink in, marking the first time in days that there was not something going wrong or her being driven towards an objective. She gulped a few mouthfuls of coffee. The bitterness reminded her that this was precisely where she needed to be. Heaven was too isolated, sterile, and constricting for her. Clara required the flavour and spice of life in order to be content.
After her second cup, she sighed softly, grabbed the pad, and admired the woman’s beautiful handwriting. The message was good news but, given who she was dealing with, that situation could turn on her real fast.
Clara looked at her phone and noted the time. With the better part of the day to herself and with nothing better to do, she began to experiment with the mobile phone. The messages were in there somewhere, and she was determined to find them.
DINNER WITH AN ANGEL
Clara looked out over the restaurant from the comfort of her booth. Once she was satisfied there was no immediate threat, she looked down at a newspaper to pass the time. She was in awe of the number of ads, colour, and scores of anorexic articles that had a sensationalist bent. It appeared that not everything improved with age, and newspapers were a prime example.
Clara heard the waiter approach, his footsteps muffled by the carpet, and without a glance, knew who this was. As expected, the man left a drink at her table, all without being prompted.
“Compliments of the lady at the bar,” the waiter said before walking away.
Clara looked at the drink, then up at the woman and was astounded by what she saw. There she sat in a from fitting black dress that hugged her body and left little to the imagination. Her left leg was bare, exposed by a slit, and even in this dull light, her silky gams glimmered.
Clara smirked, since this was playing out exactly as it had the first time they met. The venue may have been different, but all of the key details were present.
Sensing her part in this affair, Clara raised her glass in the air so the might toast one another in silence. While each sipped her drink, they kept their eyes locked on one another. Evelyn loved to be the centre of attention, and for now, it suited Clara to play along.
Just like before, she felt a breeze, and with that, Evelyn appeared on the bench across from her. That woman knew how to wield smiles like a scalpel. She could chill the mood at an orgy to show her displeasure or hint at the lifetime of passion only she could offer. All that was needed was to give oneself willingly to her, and Clara was pretty sure people frequently made that choice.
“You’re in a good mood,” Clara said while catching a glimpse of the woman’s soul.
The last time Clara had seen Evelyn, her soul had been in an advanced state of decay, torn asunder through centuries of abuse, the soul one associated with a mass murder, a paedophile, or a tyrannical dictator. Now, it was clear that something had changed. While there was still decay, the soul was whole. This was Clara’s first glimpse at how pivotal a singular act of redemption could be.
Evelyn sidestepped the comment and said, “I wanted to thank you.”
“You did?” Clara questioned.
Evelyn nodded, as plates of food arrived at the table. Clara noticed that Evelyn’s companion was pretty relaxed considering he had been run over by her truck a couple of nights ago.
Evelyn looked at the plethora of food options and selected something that looked like baked camembert. She dipped some toasted bread into the cheese and brought it to her mouth. As a matter of course, she seductively licked the cheese from her piece before taking a bite.
“Relax,” Evelyn said. “Marc holds no ill will towards you. That would require emotions which may cloud his judgement, and I’ve never known him to have any.”
She looked up and smiled at Marc who did not return the gesture. Instead he bowed away and headed towards the kitchen.
“Nevertheless,” Evelyn added. “He is here to make sure you play nice.”
Clara mulled over those words. Their kind could not easily engage her now. Her speed and strength equalled their own. Besides, coming into direct contact with her was the equivalent of sunbathing at high noon. The only way Clara could be reined in is if they took extraordinary precautions.
“Explosives?” Clara asked.
Evelyn giggled and nodded, “Great minds, non? Marc tells me it’s a shaped charge focused on you. I may get caught up in the blast, but I’ll heal.”
“Fair enough,” Clara said. “I’d have done the same.”
Evelyn picked up another piece of bread and dipped it into the cheese. Clara looked around and settled on a bowl of French onion soup. She moved it towards herself, grabbed the oversized spoon, and broke through the baked cheese crust to reach the broth. The smell alone was enough to make her stomach growl.
“There were three,” Evelyn said after another bite.
Clara looked up, swallowed a spoonful of broth, and asked, “Georgians? In the city?”
Evelyn nodded. The slight droop in her smile hinted there had been complications. Clara did not want to delve into the matter unless it was brought up. However, the use of past tense meant those three were dead, which was good news.
“You were right. They were responsible for this mess,” Evelyn said while spreading pâté on a piece of fresh bread.
“Did you find out why?” Clara asked before she scooped up a chunk of cheese and bread.
“Playing the odds,” Evelyn said. “They wanted to trigger a war which would bring about the end of our kind, all in some attempt to alter the balance of power in their favour and simplify colonisation.”
“The Tower never really knew what they were,” Clara said.
“You know,” Evelyn said. “I haven’t heard that name since Drusilla had a party to celebrate the attack on their gate network…”
Clara’s heart sank, but kept her emotions hidden by eating a few more bites. That was exactly what she feared: that the Tower was cut off and remained as such to this day.
“Sounds like you miss them?” Clara asked to deflect.
“Oh?” Evelyn said. “I suppose. They were most helpful to rid us of any undesirables and could be counted on to follow a strict set of rules.”
“Unlike this new group?” Clara asked.
Evelyn nodded and said, “You get around, don’t you?”
Both took a few more bites in an effort to collect their thoughts. Clara was beginning to suspect that Evelyn was not aligned with those currently in power.
“That ghoul interrogator was an interesting development,” Clara said. “I encountered that before the Great—”
“The First World War,” Evelyn interrupted. “One of Drusilla’s great plans that you put on ice for a couple of decades.”
So her hunch had been dead on. Drusilla must have spent centuries aligning the darker elements into a loose coalition. All in an effort to oppress humanity, but to what end?
“Is that why I encountered werewolves in the city?” Clara asked.
Evelyn’s eyes temporarily widened and she soon realised her faux pas. She smiled shyly and giggled.
“You’ve really been around the block,” Evelyn said.
Clara grinned and helped herself to some of that molten cheese dish that Evelyn had been sampling. To put it mildly, it was simply divine.
“I feel like a one gal wrecking crew,” Clara
said.
“I’ve seen natural disasters that left behind less destruction,” Evelyn said with a giggle-snort. That clearly caught her off guard. She grinned and covered her mouth before saying, “Excusez-moi.”
Clara smiled. It was great to see someone lower their guard. Especially when centuries of practice were used to keep up the pretence of being cultured.
Evelyn’s face grew sombre. It seemed that the idle chit chat was over. Clara had been expecting this, but had no idea where this conversation would lead.
“Whatever you have in mind,” Evelyn whispered. “We want in.”
The Van Helsing Resurgence Page 30
