by A. M. Manay
“My intent was not to cause you pain,” he protested.
“Really? You took advantage of a lonely child who has had so little love in her life that she’s starving for it. Were you actually going to try to sleep with me tonight?" He had the good sense to look slightly ashamed. "Are you fucking kidding me? I'm an eighteen-year-old virgin who never even kissed a guy before you! Am I not screwed up enough already? Did you think I was going to react well to finding out I had sex for the first time with someone who not only doesn't love me but also is married and only wants to use me as a weapon? Mental stability is not really my strong suit, historically. What the hell is wrong with you?”
She couldn’t sit still. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn't escape, so she paced by the window like a caged animal. "You are a real piece of work, you know that? Though I don't know why that should surprise me, given the fact that you kidnapped me. And bought me. From my mother. What is wrong with me? Maybe I do belong in a hospital."
William defended himself earnestly, as though he actually wished to persuade her of his good intentions. She watched him with increasing incredulity as he argued, “I needed to be sure of your complete loyalty. Your love would ensure that you would stay on our side, whatever happens. I’m trying to save a civilization here. I had to find out for certain who is behind all this. I have to defeat him. For my wife. For my people. Some things are too important to leave to chance. Some things are more important than one person. You must understand, I could not entrust so much to a human without doing everything I could to ensure her allegiance.”
“You've done a bang-up job of that, now, haven't you? Do you know what you could have tried instead? You could have said, 'November, use your gift to help me save innocent people from a terrorist maniac who wants to enslave the human race. Your gift will finally do some good instead of only driving you crazy and ruining everything, and you'll get to live in a house fit for human habitation and eat on the regular and pretend you have friends for the first time in your wretched life.' Maybe try that next time."
She was bright with righteous anger, filled with fire as she stood up for herself, full bore, with no restraint or shame or fear, perhaps for the first time in her life. As she spoke, she stepped slowly toward the vampire, who actually retreated towards the door in the face of her onslaught.
“You’re a lovely girl, November. I’m . . . very fond of you,” he replied inadequately. “I am sorry for your pain."
“You say that a lot. You'll forgive me if I don't believe you. You didn’t love me at all. You didn’t even want me. You just wanted my gift. How could I not have realized that? I am so stupid. So young and stupid.” She had wanted so badly to be cherished for herself that she had seen love when it wasn’t there. She had trusted when she should have been skeptical, which wasn’t at all like her. She never trusted humans that much. In a new world, with new people, with new fears, she had tossed aside her normal caution. She did not intend to repeat that mistake.
Making one last effort to placate her, William reached out a hand towards her shoulder.
“Get out!” she commanded in a voice that could have shattered glass. “Get out,” she repeated in a dangerous whisper. "And don't you ever touch me again." William looked like he wanted to continue with his explanations, but one look at November’s face convinced him otherwise. He stepped backwards through the door, which November promptly slammed in his face.
For a long time, she just stared at the carpet. Her emotions overwhelmed her, leaving her unable to cry, unable to think. Finally, her hurt and anger settled into a stone in the pit of her stomach, and she was able to consider her situation with some lucidity.
She slid down to the floor and sat with her back against the door. She briefly considered running away. It was her first impulse, to flee from him and this strange new life of hers, this weird imprisonment. Logic prevailed, however. Even if she could get off the grounds, endangering her life to avoid seeing William, to avoid embarrassment, would be pretty stupid. Besides, she knew her fate was intertwined with these people, so what was the point in running from the unavoidable? She told herself that the humiliation and grief would fade in time. It was hard to face the fact that she would have to return to her difficult work with Savita, to go on about her business as if nothing had changed. How do I face Savita and Birch? How do I face anyone?
This little romance had been a source of happiness that helped her get through the difficulty of using her gift to explore these attacks. It had let her pretend that she wasn't trapped. Now that crutch was gone. She would have to do what she’d done all her life: find her own happiness in the midst of a difficult situation. Never did she seriously consider refusing to do the work. All the suffering of the victims, all the evil she’d seen – if she could help stop that violence, how wrong would it be to refuse to do so in order to spite a man who’d hurt her or to escape her own discomfort? Children will die if I stop, if I leave. Innocents will suffer. I can still prevent that.
She was still sitting motionless on the floor when she heard a knock on her door. “It’s Zinnia. Lord William told me what happened.”
“Come in,” November replied a bit reluctantly. She wasn’t sure she wanted company until she saw her friend’s face full of sympathy; she then realized that a girlfriend was exactly what she needed.
Zinnia sunk down to sit on the floor next to her. She had brought a tissue box. November gave her a weak smile. “Well prepared, I see. He told you all of it?”
“Yes. He said you needed someone to talk to, so he told me about his wife. I can’t believe that Lady Esther is still alive.” Zinnia shook her head. “I have to admit I’m happy about that; she was always very kind to me. I think I saw more of her than my own mother as a kid. Of course, I’m totally livid at Lord William for deceiving you. I really thought he liked you. He seemed so much happier, and so did you. I thought you were helping him get over the loss of her.”
“You warned me that he could be ruthless. I should have taken that to heart. Apparently the ends justify the means as far as he’s concerned. Thank goodness I didn’t actually sleep with him. This would be a hundred times harder. Score one for the nuns and sexual conservatism.” November started crying again. “I feel so miserable,” she said, burying her face in her hands.
“I know. That’s how I felt when things went south with my first boyfriend. He was my first love, and I think I jumped into bed too quickly. You know how I am. I fall in love so easily, like how we became friends in about thirty seconds.” Zinnia smiled. “At least I learned from that mistake to protect my heart a little bit more. He cheated on me, so I broke it off. But I was still miserable for a while. I still missed him, missed what we had. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you will feel better. After a while, it won’t hurt anymore. And almost everyone goes through this. Most people don’t end up together forever with the first person they were ever involved with,” Zinnia said reassuringly, the voice of experience at the ripe old age of nineteen.
“I know. I keep telling myself that. But most people’s first kiss isn’t with some vampire lord who’s about 900 years old and who kidnapped her and with whom she has to continue living because even scarier vampires are trying to kidnap and/or murder her.”
“Wow. It does sound kind of bad when you put it like that,” Zinnia replied in a deadpan tone that forced November to laugh. “At least Ben will be happy,” she added.
“Oh, jeez. I hadn’t even thought about that. He isn’t going to give me a moment’s peace.” November threw up her hands in renewed frustration.
“I’ll tell him to lay off. I don’t know if it’ll work, but I’ll try,” Zinnia reassured her. “Do you have any interest in him, with Lord William out of the picture?”
November thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know, and not just because the breakup is so raw. It would be seriously awkward. I don’t want to make more trouble for him. Plus, I’m not exactly confident about my judgment in men right now.�
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“You shouldn’t blame yourself. You fell for a man with almost a millennium of experience seducing women. You didn’t really have a prayer,” Zinnia replied.
“Thanks. I think. Can we watch a movie or something? I need to not think about this for a while.”
“Of course, whatever you need.”
“Oh, no, I destroyed your night out on the town!” November suddenly remembered her friend’s own plans.
“No, Lord William ruined my night. You are innocent. I had time to dance for awhile, so it’s not a problem. All was not lost,” Zinnia said with a smile, reaching out a hand to help her friend up off the floor.
As they walked down to the theater, November said, “I’ve had some terrible birthdays, but this one ranks pretty high on the list. And I am totally not giving back those earrings.”
***
November’s sleep that night and following day was disrupted by the frequent sight of Esther in her sickbed, her mangled body looking very small under the white sheets. Esther didn’t look too bad awake, maybe a little depressed, but she seemed to writhe in her sleep. In another dream, November saw a human planting the note and the jewelry. She looked like one of the cleaning crew.
When November woke, she felt more sad than angry, sad for Esther and William and everyone who had been hurt in these attacks, and sad for herself as well. She supposed that if Esther had been her wife, she might have done some crazy things in the pursuit of justice herself. She was still furious deep down, but she supposed that she might be able to forgive William in time. She’d forgiven betrayals just as bad in the past, after all. She had never been one to hold grudges, but she did not forget to be wary of those who had wronged her. She just hoped she would be strong enough to maintain her dignity when she had to face everyone. The last thing she wanted was to be all weepy and mooning over William, or to have everyone looking at her with pity. She had experience acting cold and removed in order to function in spite of her pain. She would simply have to protect herself with that well-worn armor when she was forced to face her former paramour.
After a very long shower with which she tried to wash everything away, she dressed with care. She was not about to look as wretched as she felt. She hid the diamond earrings where she wouldn’t have to see them and grabbed her satchel of work out of the safe before heading down to the kitchen to get breakfast before the sun went down. Pine was hanging out in an armchair strategically placed at her end of the hallway. “Anyone try to kill me while I was sleeping?” she asked with a weak smile.
“Well, there was the one guy, but I took care of it,” he said with a wink, following a step behind her as she headed downstairs. It was still a little strange to have a bodyguard, even after weeks of having him as a shadow. She wondered how much he knew about the previous night. He was always circumspect, so she might never know.
“Is Birch available?” she asked as she got her breakfast together. “It’s kind of important.”
“I’ll call his office,” Pine answered, reaching into his pocket.
About ten minutes later, Birch appeared in the kitchen dressed in an impeccably tailored suit and sporting a black wig that caused November to do a double take. How did he cover the eyebrows? Mascara?
“I like your green hair better,” she said with an amused smile.
“I do, too, young one. However, I have several meetings with humans today, and they seem not to take me seriously enough with my natural hair,” the fairy responded. “Pine, please give us the room.” Pine obeyed without a word.
“Lord William informed me of last night’s . . . unfortunate incident. I am sorry for my role in your deception,” Birch said by way of apology.
“It’s alright. It’s not like you had any choice, and he told me you had advised against it,” November said. “I don’t really have any anger to spare for you anyway,” she added sardonically. “Anyway, I assume Lord William has already thought of this, but I wanted to make sure that Lady Esther had been moved. Apparently knowledge of her survival is more widespread than he thought, and if whoever planted the medallion is working for the bombers, she could be in danger.”
Birch raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I’ve already made those arrangements.” He paused. “I must say, it speaks well of you that you are concerned for her safely in spite of your justifiable anger toward her husband.”
“It isn’t her fault,” she replied. “I keep seeing her in her bed. Is there something that can be done for her pain?” she asked.
“She is in pain?” he asked with concern.
“I’m not sure, but I think so. I doubt she's the type to complain for herself, you know? And she looks . . . forlorn when she's awake.”
“I’ll look into it,” he said. “So do you think the spy planted her medallion?”
“I think whoever had it done was counting on me being angry and hurt enough to change sides, maybe to run away or to refuse to help with the investigation, or perhaps just to make me more cooperative if they succeed in stealing me away.”
“Plausible. Or could it have been someone with a more personal motive to disrupt your . . . romance?”
November shrugged. “You mean Ben doing it to try to break us up? Maybe. It seems like a big risk to take for a flirtation. He would have had to break into Lord William’s quarters to take it. And the actual planting of the note and the jewelry was done by one of the cleaning crew, enthralled of course. She looked seriously out of it. Again, that seems like a lot of trouble to go to over a little jealousy. Honestly, I don’t think Ben even likes me that much. I think to him it’s just a way to pass the time and get on Lord William’s nerves.”
“Perhaps it is a little extreme to do this over a crush, but stranger things have been known to happen. Young vampires can be very erratic. That’s why they are not permitted to live alone. And this certainly succeeded in getting under Lord William’s skin. Do you know which member of the crew it was?”
“The one with blond hair and a crooked nose. I think her name is Carly?” she answered uncertainly.
“I’ll have someone look for her. If she’s disappeared or been killed, that would be an interesting development,” he said casually. November winced at his nonchalance, hoping against hope that an innocent woman hadn’t died over her. “In case you’re wondering, we’re going over the surveillance cameras, but I don’t expect to find much if it was in fact the mole. I’ll let you know if we make any progress. Please keep me updated about anything you discover in your own . . . explorations.”
“Of course,” she said.
“Until next time,” he said, striding purposefully out of the kitchen.
November finished her breakfast just in time for Savita’s arrival. November endured another apology full of sympathetic eyes. “Now I understand why you looked so concerned every time you saw us together. I should have paid more attention to that. I guess I just didn’t want to see it,” she told the vampire.
“Love is intoxicating,” Savita replied. “Especially first love.”
“Yeah, it was,” November agreed. “I think I might have been more in love with love than I was with him.”
“It does happen that way sometimes,” the vampire replied. “Now that the secret about Lady Esther has been revealed, I’ve brought you the evidence from the Montana attack so that you may examine it. This one is quite upsetting, I must warn you. In addition to my sister-in-law’s grievous injuries, two young fairy children were killed,” Savita said quietly. “Fairy children have an empathic bond to their parents,” she continued. “The parents literally felt their children die from their workplace far away from the blast.” November shuddered in sympathy. “It is so difficult for fairies to have children. Their fertility has been harmed by something, perhaps human pollution, perhaps something else. Their parents had tried for two hundred years before they had the twins.” Savita’s eyes filled with bloody tears, which she wiped away with a handkerchief.
November shook her head. “How awful,” she said.
“What is wrong with these people?” she asked, not for the first time. “What can be worth all this suffering?”
“I don’t know,” Savita replied. “Evidently you and I are not sufficiently ruthless to understand. Dogwood did not seem to be privy to the ultimate goals, unfortunately. He was just being paid to follow orders, and he was promised carte blanche on his recreational slaughter for assisting in the bombings.”
November braced herself and got to work. She took notes on every detail she observed. She grew numb, seeing the explosion over and over. It looked like a group of vampires and fairies had been having a party when one of the servers had detonated. He was a fairy with long orange hair and a far-off look in his eye. He whispered something to himself just before all hell broke loose. November watched it over and over trying to make it out. Just when she was about to give up from exhaustion, she made out his strange little prayer and whispered, “Revelation. Revolution. Rule.”
Savita looked at her strangely as Em came out of her trance. “What did you just say?” she asked with unusual intensity.
“The bomber in Montana. Just before he detonated, he whispered something, like a mantra. I’ve been trying to make it out for an hour. It was three words: ‘Revelation. Revolution. Rule.’ Does that mean anything to you?”
Savita paused before answering sadly, “When my brother Luka ran for the throne against our father, that was his campaign slogan. He lost in a disturbingly close race. It appears that either he has decided to dust it off in order to motivate his cannon fodder, or someone finds his ethos very inspiring and is using it. I find the former more plausible. I doubt he would take kindly to being plagiarized.”
“Philemon and Agnes were talking about their boss brainwashing young people. What would they find inspiring about that slogan?” November asked, rubbing her temples. She had a wicked headache from her hours of labor. Savita handed her a cold can of cola. “Thanks,” November said, smiling. The telepath had learned her young assistant’s habits pretty well over the previous weeks. November usually wanted sugar after working. Back at the carnival, Neil had always kept her well supplied.
