by Debra Dunbar
“We’re lucky those guys are on good terms with me. Their territories are divided into kingdoms and nobody recognizes anyone else as an equal. I’ve done a favor for this particular high lord. I went and retrieved one of his sorcerers that went rogue a few centuries back. It actually didn’t turn out very well at first. There was a misunderstanding. A failure to communicate. Evidently, I was supposed to bring the sorcerer back to them alive and not in so many pieces. I was on their shit list for a while until the high lord realized that the whole deal had been an effective deterrent. His humans toe the line now, terrified that he’ll sic me on them if they stray. So we’re good. I’m not in such good standing with most of the other ones though.”
Candy sighed and shook her head. She looked me up and down, and then peered down the trail, waving a paw toward the path.
“Yeah, let’s keep going. I exploded my collar, though, so if we get hauled into the doggie pokey, can your friend vouch for me?”
She nodded.
The rest of the run to Williamsport was uneventful, although I noticed Candy tended to keep a shorter distance between us. While she changed shape I nosed around as beagle. There was a discarded candy wrapper with some chocolate still smeared on it that I entertained myself with when I was done identifying all the other dog visitors by their urine marks. I checked to see if Candy was finished, then popped into my human form and put on my clothing so we could head in for breakfast.
Candy looked with despair at the wrinkled mess of my clothing. We’d found a little diner in Williamsport and were enjoying coffee and a huge spread of food. Candy was the only one bothered by my disheveled appearance. None of the wait staff seemed to mind. In fact, our waitress was beyond pleased to have a table of hearty eaters on a weekday morning.
“Did you and Michelle get your costume worked out for Halloween?” Candy asked, eyeing the packets of jelly on the next table. I got up and retrieved them.
“Yeah. It’s not that dramatic compared to what I do back home, but it looks good.”
“Be careful with the vampires, Sam,” Candy warned. “They see everyone else as food and are very protective of their secrets. They isolate themselves from all the other species and they don’t mingle with humans unless they are hunting. I suspect that this event is where they pick their prey.”
I shrugged. “I’ve seen a few vampires recently. They are always super polite and pretty expressionless. I can’t imagine they’d attack me.”
“I’m sure the ones you’ve seen are their young. The old ones don’t come out during the day. I’ve never met an old vampire, but I know they are ruthless. I’m not sure how they’d feel to have a demon at their hunting party. You know how territorial you get about others infringing on your property, driving your car? They are that way, too.”
“You guys are territorial,” I said in amusement. “Everyone is. Even the humans. I’ve seen them get terribly bent out of shape if someone walks on their lawn.”
“Yes, but most species will defer to a bigger threat. We don’t like them, and we’ll try to drive them out if we can, but werecats are tolerated in our territories. Demons are definitely tolerated in our territories. And, of course, we have to abide by our existence contract where the vampires do not.”
“Why don’t the vampires have an existence contract? They have an angel assigned to them.” I didn’t see how these vampires could be as much of a threat as Candy was making them out to be. Pain in the ass, maybe. Liable to do me harm? Nope.
“Vampires existed as a race before the humans, so they’re clearly not Nephilim. Their angel is more of a diplomatic advisor. They don’t want the angels to be irritated enough with them to try to stamp them out, but they don’t fall under their control. They were never granted heavenly gifts like the humans. They stole them. Ninety-nine percent of the vampires were human once, so it’s not like it was hard to steal the gifts and use them for their own gain.”
“Ninety-nine percent? I thought all the vampires were humans once. You know, bitten and transformed into creatures of the night?” I said the last bit with a dramatic, spooky voice.
Candy wasn’t amused. “They’re an actual separate species. They reproduce, although rarely. Those ones are called ‘Born’ as opposed to the humans they turn into vampires, which they call ‘Made’. If they didn’t have the ability to transform humans, there would probably be only a hundred or so worldwide. They’re really picky about who they choose to turn. And the process is long. It takes half a millennium until a human is a vampire with more than minimal skills and abilities, and thousands of years before they are truly old and at full power.”
“And you know this how?” I teased. “Did you perhaps personally interview Dracula? Aside from the few I’ve seen recently, the last time I saw vampires was six hundred years ago. Those ones were eating dying diseased people, living like rats, with the cognitive ability of a piece of drywall. You’ve been watching too many late night movies.”
“Fine.” Candy glared at me. “I hope they bite you.”
The air around our table turned frosty as Candy gave all her attention to her omelet.
“Mmmm, I hope so, too.” I teased, unable to resist pissing her off even further.
We ate in silence for a while. I stole a glance at Candy, who was pointedly ignoring me. She had a lot on her plate right now, and I didn’t mean the omelet. Her whole race was at the mercy of angels, many of whom were voting for their extinction. She was breaking rules left and right that could result in her death. She’d just about gotten turned into a pincushion by elves, and now I was antagonizing her. Those elves would have killed her, too. If not right there, then after they’d taken her somewhere and “examined” her. They have no use for werewolves.
“Look, I’m sorry I made you angry,” I told her. “Let’s just change the subject. How is Reed doing with my smelly tenants? Are they giving him any trouble?”
“No, things are going smoothly,” she replied, as if she were undecided whether to stay mad at me or not.
“Still at full occupancy?” I prodded, hoping to push her out of sullenness and into a conversation. “Any good stories? Fights? Overdoses? Orgies?”
“There have been some words tossed around, but no fights. Werewolves are very good at keeping order. It’s gotten to the point where he’s only there an hour at check in, to get everyone settled and collect rent, then again in the morning.” Candy laughed suddenly. “Oh, he told me he’d seen a mutant cat with extra legs that someone must have dyed green. I told him to lay off the Jack Daniels.”
“That’s my doing,” I told her cheerfully. “Did he like it? The extra legs aren’t functional. It was a pretty good transformation though. I’m fairly proud of it. Usually when I attempt anything with other creatures I end up killing them. Piece of cake to do stuff to myself, very tricky to do it to someone else though.”
“I’ll have to tell him that.” She chuckled. “He thought it was one of those birth defects like you see in side shows at the carnivals. He figured the thing had survived this long only to have sadistic teenagers catch it and coat it with green Manic Panic hair dye.”
“No, just a demon having fun with some stray kitty.” I was glad the cat was making such an impression. “Let me know if he finds the ear-man though. I’d love to meet him.”
Candy looked startled for a moment then grinned. “Oh you’ve heard that story, too? Reed says he’s the homeless people’s boogie man. The legendary ear-man snags them in the dark, when they are cold and alone, then slices off their ears and dumps their bodies in the pit. The psychologists would have a field day with all that symbolism.”
“Ghost stories,” I agreed.
“Yeah, the homeless people say he’s moved on to killing little kids.” She shrugged. “Maybe he needs smaller ears for his collection.”
I’d gone cold. Angelo. Little Angelo Perez with his dark eyes so trusting as he’d looked up at me. He’d said he was in danger, and now I heard this. I didn’t care if it was a
ghost story, my skin was crawling right up my back in panic. I scrambled for my cell phone and realized that I didn’t have any of my tenants’ numbers. Maybe Michelle did.
“What’s wrong?” Candy asked, noticing my face. “It’s just a story, Sam.”
“Are you sure? Homeless people go missing and no one even notices. Maybe little kids are missing, too. Kids from poor families that no one cares about. There’s a little boy, one of my tenants, and I need him to be safe.”
“Sam, it’s fine. Really,” she assured me. “Even kids from poor families don’t just vanish. There are AMBER alerts and all sorts of special emergency procedures if a child goes missing. I promise you, none of your tenants’ children have disappeared. I’d know about it. Everyone would know about it.”
I took a deep breath and relaxed. She was right. This was a stupid myth. The kid wasn’t in any danger. What was wrong with me, freaking out like that?
We finished breakfast, and then headed back to the towpath for our return run. Candy protested my stuffing food into the pack, but I couldn’t resist the irony of asking the waitress for a doggie bag. I made sure I put it in my side of the pack. Candy would never forgive me if I got ketchup on her clothing.
The run back was exhilarating. Candy once again stayed fairly close, becoming pinned to my side and keeping me between herself and the elf trap as we passed it. With that safely behind us, she gradually pulled ahead to lead me by about twenty feet. I loved my beagle form with its floppy ears and big paws, but I was seriously considering Owning something with longer legs. Candy was easily out pacing me, and I was running furiously just trying to keep her in sight.
As we rounded the corner by Brunswick, I saw the back of a figure walking ahead of us. The man appeared to be a hiker, loaded down with a huge backpack and a walking stick. Candy dropped to a trot, to keep from startling him, and glanced behind at me questioning. I closed on her and gave a joyful beagle howl as I passed. The man turned, startled, but quickly relaxed when he saw me bounding up with wagging tail and wiggling body.
“Hi boy.” He knelt down to run his hands over me. “Wow, you are just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I don’t know what it is about dogs that makes grown humans talk in baby talk. He scratched me behind my ears and I just about had an orgasm in ecstasy. I seriously needed to have Wyatt do this sometime. I encouraged him to continue by licking his hands and squirming around. Candy approached slowly, trying to look non-threatening, by wagging her tail and panting with tongue extended. Still, I could tell the moment the hiker saw her from the way he stiffened and caught his breath.
To ease the tension, I ran back to Candy and jumped at her face, licking her muzzle and pulling playfully at her ears with my teeth. She went along with the act, doing a play bow, and shaking her head so the blingy collar jingled its tags. Evidently, I’m a better actress in doggie form, because the hiker relaxed and even patted us on the heads as we passed. It had definitely been an awesome run. I made a mental note to do this one again, without the adventure through the elf trap, and, hopefully, with longer legs next time.
Chapter 17
“I hope they don’t card me,” I told Wyatt as I surveyed my Halloween form in the car rear view mirror. “The only place I have to stick my license is up my ass.”
We’d managed to find an out-of-the-way place to park where I felt reasonably safe leaving my Corvette, and I’d been able to create the large, unwieldy portions of my costume uninterrupted. It had taken a while. Wyatt was irritated. He seemed to be cheering up now that we were parked and the prospect of a beverage was within his reach.
“I have a man-purse I can put it in.” Wyatt eyed the pouch-looking bag with amusement. He was dressed as an elf. Not one of the Keebler elves. More like the Orlando Bloom, Lord of the Rings, kind of elf. I’d just about passed out laughing when I saw his costume. From what I could gather, the vampires and the elves hated each other. Wyatt going to their party dressed as an elf would be like going to a Bar Mitzvah in a Hitler costume. Of course the irony was lost on Wyatt, who couldn’t figure out what was so funny about the outfit. I’d explained what little I knew about vampires to him, and had managed to tell him how gloriously inappropriate his costume would be before I dissolved into another fit of laughter. Wyatt had offered to change, but I insisted it was brilliant, and I wouldn’t have him wear anything different.
“Good idea,” I told him as I stuffed my license, some money and my car keys into the bag. “Better not run off on me with some hot looking Lady Godiva, you’ve got my car keys.”
We walked the five blocks up the road to the club while I goosed Wyatt with my tail. I’d changed my mind about the tail thing. It felt weird. It wasn’t an appendage I normally wore, but it was growing on me. I’d made it furry like my lower half, and jointed it considerably so I could swish it around like a cat, making sure to put tiny joints in the end so it acted as a finger. I foresaw an evening of fun with that tail.
We attracted a lot of attention just walking up the street, although honestly most of the attention was on me. I heard people speculating how I got my legs to bend in the manner of a goat with the little hooves, and much admiration on my wings. In response, I stretched out a wing behind Wyatt, arching and rustling it a bit. The ”Ooooo” noises were very gratifying.
Once we reached the doorman at the club, suddenly all the attention was on Wyatt. The vampire at the door stiffened, like someone had put a rod up his ass, and glared at my elf.
“Is this your idea of a joke?” he asked, incensed. “I don’t care if you’re invited; you’re not getting in dressed like that.”
“What a shame,” I replied. “And we were so looking forward to the party.”
The doorman noticed me for the first time and his eyes bugged out before that placid dull mask they all seemed to wear slipped over him. He glanced rapidly back and forth from the guest list to my face.
“Wyatt Lowrey and guest,” I told him helpfully. “I’m the guest. I hope that’s ok.”
“I thought you said these people were polite, with excellent hospitality, Sam.” Wyatt put an arm around my waist. Smooth move, since my waist was mostly hidden by wing.
“I’ve only had pleasant experiences with them so far, sweetie. This is very disappointing.” I pouted.
At that time another vampire came out the door, her eyes also bugging as she saw me. She elbowed the doorman sharply in the side, and gave him a furious glance before turning to me with that look of bland neutrality.
“Baal, I am so sorry you have been made to wait outside. Please come right on in.” She glanced at Wyatt and winced. “Both of you, please come in.”
I paused as we walked through the door and did a quick scan. The place was packed. Lights were dim with flashes of neon from the dance floor, the music pounded a bass heavy beat, and tables loaded down with food and huge, fantastic ice sculptures were off to the side. A bar, modern in chrome and black granite, serpentined around the entire left side of the huge room.
Wyatt had shown me his hacked list of the guests, so I wasn’t surprised to see local and state politicians, a few notable news anchors and morning shock jocks, and some recognizable celebrities. Nobody A-list, but not community theater either. Others must have been local businessmen and women from the way they were working the room.
The vampires were easy for me to recognize. There was just something about them that clearly identified them as non-human, although Wyatt and the other humans couldn’t seem to see this difference. There looked to be about ten vampires in the room, with varying degrees of power. Oddly enough, they were either clustered together or lined awkwardly against the wall, like social outcasts as a high school dance. They eyed the humans with a kind of nervous longing, as it were beyond their skills to engage them in small talk. I found the whole thing terribly amusing.
Our female escort parked us at the bar and exchanged a quick glance with the bartender before wishing us a lovely evening. The bartender was human, but u
nlike the rest of the humans in the room, he seemed to recognize the vampires and be able to tell their social ranking. He glanced at Wyatt’s costume in surprise, hiding a quick grin. This human clearly understood how his bosses might react to an elf, and found it rather funny.
“Can I get you a drink, Baal and companion?” he asked, with warmth that had been lacking in our interaction with the vampire staff.
“The Companion will have whatever you’ve got on tap.” Wyatt was having as much fun as I was with this whole thing. “My Evil Mistress would like your best vodka.”
A few of the humans sidled up to me and began admiring my wings. A rather well known Baltimore journalist asked if she could touch them. I assented and watched one of the vampires along the wall clench his fists in frustration as she fawned over them. Clearly, I owed Candy a big apology. I should never doubt her. This party was just a big gift basket of goodies for the vampires, who were picking out their snacks for the evening. Wyatt’s outfit had gone unnoticed so far, as we were hidden in a mob of humans pawing my wings and furry ass. I hadn’t gotten this felt up in, well, in forever. Happy to reciprocate, I used my tail to grope the crotches around me, and heard quite a few squeals and laughs. The vampires along the wall were now glaring at me.
The bartender delivered our drinks, biting back a smile and trying to mimic the bland expression the vampires habitually assumed when they interacted with me. I glanced down at the glass of vodka and hoped those lessons with Gregory hadn’t deserted me.
“Stand back,” I warned the bartender, “I saw this in a cartoon once and I think I can do it.” Taking the glass of vodka in my hand, I froze it. It was supposed to cover the glass with lovely frosty etchings and chill the vodka. Instead the glass shattered, sending shards and frozen vodka through the air and onto the humans. A bit overkill, but I had been practicing ice and not chill. The bartender had been smart enough to heed my warning, but a human next to me shrieked and grabbed a napkin to staunch the blood from her cut arm.
