First Semester

by Jace Mitchell

  “Upstairs?” Frank’s raised both eyebrows. He hadn’t known there was an upstairs to this place. Then again, I don’t really go anywhere but to this exact spot.

  Norstrom stepped back from the bar. “Yeah. Over where the bathrooms are, there’s a closed door across from them. Go upstairs. I’ll meet you there in ten.”

  Frank glanced down at his glass. He grabbed it quickly and downed the remaining alcohol. He looked up to Norstrom. “One for the road?”

  Frank sat in Norstrom’s living room. The place was pretty large for a studio apartment and resided right over the Veil Room. Only creatures from beyond the Veil called it that; Frank wasn’t sure humans had a name for the shitty little bar at all.

  Ten minutes turned to twenty, but then Frank heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

  Damn, Norstrom does not look big enough to sound like that, he thought. He didn’t move from the chair, his legs splayed out on a footrest. His beer sat on the table next to him.

  The apartment’s door opened, but it wasn’t Norstrom who walked through. Instead, the half-man, half-horse stepped through the doorway.

  Bosephus was built like a tank, the man half of him as muscular as a Greek god and the horse half looking like a thoroughbred.

  Frank sat up, alarmed to see the horse instead of the bird. If he gives me trouble, I can always teleport.

  Bosephus closed the door and then turned around to study the much smaller leprechaun. He eyed him suspiciously. “Norstrom said you were asking questions downstairs. He said you were waving around more cash around than he’d ever seen you carrying.”

  “Just because Norstrom can’t see very well, it doesn’t mean I’m broke.” He took the beer from the table and put it in his lap. “Why did he send you up here?”

  “Because he’s working, and I needed to get a look at you.” The four hooves clapped as they walked across the wooden floor.

  “You sure you’re not going to fall through this damn floor?” Frank stared down at the massive hooves. “Frank can teleport, but methinks you’ll have a tougher time.”

  The centaur stopped about three feet from Frank’s chair. “Why are you asking about vampires? Why did you pull out money to learn about them?”

  Frank looked at his pants, seeing a speck. He wiped it away nonchalantly. “Bosephus, let’s get a few things straight. You may be huge and strong, but I’m a leprechaun. You might not know a lot about us, but trust me, my Veilian brother, I’m not someone ye want to mess around with.” He rubbed his nose. “Why I’m asking about the vamps is me own business. If ye want to answer about them, that’s yer business.”

  The centaur gave a horse-like sneeze, sounding annoyed. He turned his body so he was staring out the window to the right of Frank. “A lot of creatures are asking about the vampires, and whether I give you any information depends on why you’re asking. I don’t need your money, and neither does Norstrom. But, if you’re asking for the wrong reasons, I’ll politely have to decline your request.”

  What’s his angle? Frank wondered. He studied the large horse creature. He saw no deceit in him, but he didn’t get this old by trusting beings he hardly knew.

  Frank looked down into his beer. He finally shrugged. To hell with it. Tell ‘em the truth. “I’m asking because I want to stop them or help stop them if I can.”

  Bosephus turned his head to look at Frank. “How are you going to do that, little man?”

  Frank sighed. “Speciesist. Look, it doesn’t matter exactly how. I’m just curious what’s bringing us over here. Whether these vampires are coming on their own and congregating, or whether it’s something more sinister.”

  The centaur’s large legs backed him up so that he was square with Frank. “Listen, little green man. I sense you’re on the right side of things, but no one can be certain. Either you level with me and perhaps we can talk, or you take your tiny legs down those stairs and don’t come back to this place. Either is fine with me.”

  Frank looked down at his beer. Almost out. What’s it gonna be, Frank? Get more involved with this business, or finish your beer and get on out of here like a good leprechaun?

  The decision wasn’t hard. He remembered back to when those FBI agents had showed up at the bowling alley and Claire stood up, telling him to cut loose. He’d listened to her, letting Claire handle the agents. Now she needed him, just like he thought he’d needed her back then.

  “You’re not going to like the answer I’ve got for you, horse-man.” Frank stared into his quickly disappearing beer, the amber liquid looking sadder the closer to the bottom it got. “But I’ll tell ye all the same.”

  Frank went through the spiel. He explained about Claire, although he didn’t mention the lass’s name. He told Bosephus about the FBI coming for her, and the university, and all the way up until last night.

  “So that’s why I’m here.” He drained the last of his glass and set it down hard on the table next to him. “Because they’re asking for help against the vamps, and I thought I might be able to give it to them. I don’t have any business with the FBI, and I don’t want any besides whatever I might gain from this little endeavor. Now, do you know anything about this?”

  Bosephus had turned during Frank’s talk and was staring out the window again, his broad, hairless shoulder facing Frank. “The university. I’ve heard rumors about it, and then there were whispers that one of the vampires was killed. The humans are fighting back, it would seem?”

  Frank said nothing. He was honestly tired of all this talking, and consequently, the lack of drinking.

  “Okay, green man,” the centaur conceded. One of his hoofs rubbed idly on the wooden floor, causing a light scraping sound. “You go home now and come back tomorrow first thing in the morning. I’ll have you some answers, or as many as I can get.”

  “First thing in the morning?” Frank raised an eyebrow. “What time is that for centaurs?”

  Bosephus grinned. “Six. Don’t be late.”

  Frank groaned as he stood up from the chair. “That means I’ll have to stop drinking in a few hours. The lass gonna pay for this.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was mid-afternoon when Frank appeared on Claire’s computer chair. “I got bad news, and I got worse news.”

  “What the heck?!” Marissa shrieked from her side of the room. She scurried off the bed and stared at the leprechaun.

  Frank turned and grinned. “Oh, my, my, Claire. She’s a cute one.” He stood and offered a hand. “My name’s Frank. Nice to meet ye.”

  Claire sighed. “Marissa, this is Frank. Frank, Marissa.”

  Marissa turned her face to look at Claire, eyes wide and mouth ajar. “You know it?”

  “It?” Frank was aghast. “I’ll have ye know, Frank is no it. Got a big stick and beach balls within me pants, I do!”

  Claire shook her head and turned her body so she faced Marissa, who was still standing on the bed. “He’s not the most couth creature to cross the Veil.”

  Marissa swallowed and slowly turned to the leprechaun again. Her mouth remained open, but she wasn’t trying to dart away any longer.

  Frank had turned his offended shock back to humor and was smiling. “Claire, you didn’t tell me your roommate was so beautiful.”

  “Because it’s none of your business, Frank. Plus, she doesn’t practice interspecies dating with jerks. Which you most definitely are.” Claire stepped forward and slapped Frank on the arm, getting him to look away from Marissa. “Now, why are you here?”

  “Hold on, hold on,” Marissa interrupted. “How do you know him? Won’t we get in trouble for him being here? I mean, he’s clearly not human.”

  Frank sighed. “Our love is over before it even started, me dear. You’re clearly a speciesist.” He waddled into the room and bent over to look under Claire’s bed. Then he pulled a trunk out from beneath it. “Hmmm... This is new.”

  “Hey.” Claire marched back across the room and slapped his hands. The leprechaun stood up, and she
kicked the trunk back under the bed. “Enough, Frank. What the hell are you doing here?”

  Frank put a hand over his heart. “I’m wounded, me lady, at your harsh words. Especially in front of such a lovely being as this.” He gestured with his free hand at Marissa. “I am here, of course, because I’ve been out doing your bidding and finding out what you need to know. What your FBI asked me for, if I have to remind ye?”

  Claire stepped back and sat on Marissa’s bed. She patted the mattress next to her, indicating that Marissa should sit down, too. “I know this little green monster. His name’s Frank. He’s okay most of the time. Just likes shocking people is all. Trust me, he knows I can kick his ass if it comes down to it.”

  Frank raised one finger into the air. “Once. She bested me once in a race, but I was drunk. It doesn’t count.”

  Marissa slowly sat down next to Claire, understanding for the most part that the creature wasn’t going to hurt her.

  Claire put her hand on Marissa’s knee, trying to calm her. “You remember when they asked me to stay behind after that meeting?”

  Marissa nodded.

  Claire pointed at Frank. “This was why. They know about Frank. In fact, when they came to pick me up, Frank was with me, and I thought they were after him. When I stayed back the other day, they wanted me to ask Frank if he could help, so I did.”

  “Lass, Frank is not here to hurt ye.” The leprechaun leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and looking earnest. “I’m here to help me friend Claire. If ye’re with her, then I’m here to help ye as well.”

  Claire tapped Marissa’s knee gently, then focused on Frank. “Okay. Before you disrupted everything with your antics, you said you had news. What is it?”

  “Aye, it’s bad and it’s worse, me dear.” Frank stood and walked over to one of the bookshelves. He started pulling books off it one by one as if checking their titles.

  The little bastard is rummaging for things to steal, Claire thought. No doubt about it. I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t get anything from Marissa, who isn’t wise to his ways yet. “Careful, Frank. I know what you’re doing.”

  “I’m sure ye do. Just looking to see what ye’re educating yourself with,” Frank commented as he thumbed through a book. “Now, can I tell ye what I came here to relate so I can be on me way?”

  Claire leaned back on the bed, placing her hands behind her to hold her up. “You want to tell me, or you want to do it in front of the bigwigs?”

  Frank looked skeptically over his shoulder. “I’d rather not go in front of the group wanting to kill me if ye don’t mind, me dear. Right here is fine. I expect ye to let them know they owe me a drum of ale for this. Not beer, but actual ale.” He stared at Claire.

  “Fine!” Claire agreed in exasperation. “Now get on with it!”

  Frank moved over to a few knickknacks on the small shelf. “You’re right about the cult, although they don’t think of themselves in those terms. It’s people who are pulling the vampires across, and best Frank can surmise, they aren’t too keen on helping the human race.”

  Claire couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What do they want?”

  “That, I’m not sure about,” Frank answered as he picked up one of the small items on the shelf. He held it up to the light and studied it. “But it doesn’t really matter for your purposes. So, right now, these guys are calling creatures over, and they’re focusing on vampires—”

  “Frank,” Claire interrupted. “We know all this. Do you have anything else for me? You’re a long way from your barrel of booze right now.”

  “Well, did you know there is a hit out on you and the rest of your cohort?” Frank put the knickknack down and turned around. He smirked. “That worth any booze to you?”

  Claire was stunned. A hit? What the hell is a hit? She turned to Marissa but her eyes didn’t leave Frank.

  “You mean, an assassination?” Marissa asked. “That’s what you’re talking about?”

  “Well,” Frank mused, “assassinations are usually reserved for important people. You two don’t reach that milestone. However, ye might if ye married me. With your beauty and my brains, we could really be something.”

  Claire slapped his hand. “Quit it!”

  “Aye, okay.” Frank nodded with a smile. “Yes, an assassination. A hit. The group apparently didn’t take kindly to what you did to that vamp, murdering the poor fellow and all. So now, they’re going to try to take you all out before you can do any more damage.”

  “How do you know, Frank?” Claire was leaning forward now, worrying for the first time. It was one thing to go hunting these creatures. It was something altogether different if they were hunting you.

  Frank stood and raised his hands into the air in mock exasperation. “I bring news, and you want to know my sources! This is absurd!”

  “Come on. Be serious.” Claire was staring at her shoes, ignoring Frank’s antics. “How did you find out?”

  Frank let his hands drop back to his sides. “There’s a group of creatures from the Veil, and they’re not taking kindly at being removed from their homes. Apparently, not everyone enjoys Earth as much as I do. They aren’t looking at targeting all humans, just the ones responsible. They’ve got some kind of insight into the group and what they’re planning to do.”

  Claire looked up. “Do they know who’s behind the cult?”

  The leprechaun sat back down on the bed. “No, or if they do, they didn’t tell Frank.”

  “Do you know anything else?” Claire pressed. “When the hit is coming? Where?”

  Frank shook his head. “No one is sure yet. They just know this cult wants you guys out of the way.”

  Claire nodded and looked at Marissa. “There might be something good that comes out of this.”

  “What’s that?” Marissa whispered, staring at the floor.

  “We end up getting rid of Jack?” Claire said, hiding her grin.

  “We’re not that lucky,” Marissa whispered back, unable to hide her smile.

  Frank sat in the corner of the room, stiller than Claire had ever seen him. It’d taken her a freakin’ hour to wrangle him into coming to this meeting. He’d fought her tooth and nail, refusing over and over. He’d almost teleported out of the university before she guaranteed him she’d pay the next ten times they went bowling.

  Claire didn’t have a damn clue where she was going to get the money for that, but she needed him here when they talked to Remington, Lance, and Pritcham if for nothing else than to back up what she was saying.

  Claire, Marissa, and Jack sat in the same three chairs as last time. The FBI attendants occupied the same couch, and Dean Pritcham was behind her desk. Frank had stationed himself in the far corner. He looked much smaller in the overlarge chair.

  Claire had given everyone the rundown, and now the two FBI agents were staring at Frank.

  “That’s the truth?” Remington asked. “Because we haven’t heard anything about retribution.”

  Frank raised an eyebrow and looked at Claire. “You made me come for this? If ye don’t believe me, don’t believe me. I don’t care.”

  Claire paid the sullen leprechaun no mind. “Remington, he’s telling the truth. He didn’t come here to lie to us. Anyway, it makes sense. If this cult thinks we’re a danger, why wouldn’t they try to wipe us out?”

  Remington stared for a few more seconds, considering whether to trust Frank.

  “Hey,” Claire snapped. “You asked him to help us, and he did. That’s my friend, and he’s telling the truth as best he knows. I trust him, and you better start, too, or there’s no reason for any of us to be in this room. The three of us can just go back to training and then see what happens.”

  Jack turned his head to her with an odd smirk on his face. He started slow clapping, then mimicked Professor Byron as he spoke. “Well done, Ms. Hinterland. Well done, indeed.”

  Claire didn’t even show the hint of a smile. I’ll be damned if they call Frank in here to accuse
him of lying, she thought. She kept her eyes on Remington, and the FBI agent finally turned and met her gaze.

  “Fair enough.” He glanced Lance. “You good?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  Remington focused on Pritcham. “This changes things again.”

  The dean laughed. “Of course it does. The only constant around here is change.”

  “This isn’t necessarily a bad thing.” Marissa stared down at the open notebook on her lap as she spoke.

  She’d written some notes, although Claire didn’t know when it had happened. She’d been so focused on making sure the FBI treated Frank correctly that she hadn’t seen what her friends were doing.

  “It’s not bad?” Jack asked, leaning forward. “Seems like having a vampire hit on our lives could very well be interpreted as a bad thing. At least in my book.”

  Marissa’s voice rose in strength. “It allows us to control the situation a bit better.”

  She’s getting good at this, Claire thought. She’s starting to recognize her value to the team. Maybe her whole life, she’s only been thought of as gorgeous, but now she’s understanding she sees things differently than other people, and in a good way.

  “Go on,” Remington instructed.

  “Well, if we know they’re going to attack us, we can prepare for it.” Marissa smiled slyly. “Like in that Home Alone movie—”

  “Hold on,” Lance spoke up. “You’ve seen Home Alone? You weren’t even alive when that movie came out.”

  “Ageist,” Frank grumbled from his seat in the corner. “Speciesists and ageists, the lot of ye.”

  Claire stifled a grin. “We’ve all seen Home Alone because old folks like you make us watch it. Now, quit interrupting.”

  Marissa continued. “We can prepare for when they come. There are a lot of ways to fight vampires. They’re the most dangerous when you don’t know they’re a vampire, or when your faith is weak, or when you don’t have any weapons. The faith stuff only comes into play if you try to use crosses and such, but there are a lot of weapons we can use. We can also remain here, which means they’ll be on our territory.” She looked at Remington. “Have you ever tried to kidnap a vampire?”