Brightblade

by C. T. Phipps

  I suppose I should get used to those.

  It was only after I’d hijacked Sophia Baron’s car, driven to my favorite watering hole in the Shamrock Bar (not the Shamrock Bar on Thirteenth Street, the one on Eighth Street), that I realized I’d left everyone else behind. Well, no, I realized it then. I just hadn’t cared.

  The place was decorated exactly the way you’d think a place called the Shamrock Bar would be decorated with a neon shamrock shine, black leather booths, an Irish bartender (or pretending to be Irish), and lots of beer on tap. I was on my third pint when Alex walked in through the front door and sat down across from me.

  Alex looked about as bad as I felt, soot clinging to some of his clothes and a few marks from where he’d been stabbed. The bartender gave him a look, shrugged, then went back to serving drinks. New Detroit was not the sort of place you wanted to go poking into other people’s business.

  “You look like a survivor of a zombie movie,” I said. “Or maybe not a survivor.”

  “I feel like it too,” Alex said. “You sort of rushed out without saying much.”

  I looked over at Zadkiel, pressed up against the wall. “I had company, don’t worry. He’s the designated driver.”

  Funny, Zadkiel replied.

  “Are you okay?” Alex asked.

  “Has anyone ever actually been when asked that?” I asked, not entirely sure how to respond.

  “Right,” Alex said, looking down.

  “I’ll be fine after a few days of rest and relaxation. Assuming I get any. Maybe take a spa day.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Alex said. “I hear Bright Falls has some wonderful ones. I have a permanent discount at Pinehold Resort and Spa if you want to make use of it.”

  “I was kidding,” I said.

  “Ah,” Alex said. “Clara’s outside, by the way. She wants to thank you for saving her life and killing her own personal Gargamel.”

  “Of all the pop culture references I’ve had to endure; I believe that is by far the most inappropriate.”

  Alex looked down, clearly unsure how to talk to me after my personal Normandy Invasion of a day and a half.

  “Why outside? I don’t bite. Yet.”

  “Given you barely know each other, she was hoping to get permission first. As for the rest? You don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be,” Alex said, pausing. “Fate is something we make ourselves.”

  “Do you believe that?” I asked, staring into my now-empty beer glass.

  “No,” Alex said. “But I also believe we could have died tonight and that would have kept you from becoming a vampire.”

  “And I could have ended up a snake-girl in some asshole’s animal-themed harem, no vampire worries there! I don’t know what I was worried about.”

  “Arthur is also outside,” Alex said. “Pretty much everyone is stalking you to watch out over you.”

  “Great,” I muttered.

  “You did a lot of good tonight,” Alex said.

  “Did I?” I asked. “Because I think I mostly got my ass kicked, two people died, and got turned into a dhampyr. Is Sam outside?”

  “Yes, but she’s afraid she’ll eat you,” Alex said.

  “I can’t even make a dirty joke because I know you mean that literally.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Maybe not tonight, but we Morgans are made of tough stuff. We were built that way. Also, meant literally. What about you? You’ve been through a lot since we broke up. Have you found something to keep you centered?”

  Alex shrugged. “I’ve been fired from the Men in Black, which is actually what I wanted anyway. I’m ninety-percent sure they won’t find someone to kill me and if they do, I’m pretty sure I can survive it. As for what I’m going to do next, I don’t know. I thought I could keep fighting the good fight but I’m not sure I can pull that off on my own anymore. At some point, you need something more than the war to keep you going or you’re just going to lay down and die. Sam offered me a position working under her, so I think I’ll probably take that up. Blood Servant wizard isn’t the most glamorous job but maybe I won’t be trying to put out fires I know will just spread anyway.”

  “Pace yourself,” I said.

  The doorbell, literally there was a bell above the door, rang and Clara entered the room. She looked very different from the lizard woman she was before. She was African America, maybe twenty-eight, and dressed a bit like my grandmother. Apparently, someone had conjured up a change of clothes for her in the style she was accustomed. Nevertheless, there was a sprightliness in her step even if she’d just lost two of her closest friends.

  “Hi,” I said, looking up at her. “I guess you got tired of waiting in the car.”

  “I figured I’d get myself a beer,” Clara replied. “It’s the first time I’ll be drinking it down a human throat since Roosevelt.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t save your friends,” I said, feeling like this entire mission had been a failure.

  “Miracles and monsters have taught me to believe in a world beyond,” Clara replied. “That and the fact a literal angel is in your sword. I intend to live the rest of my life to the fullest for my friends but I believe I’ll see them again.”

  “Even Jessica?” Alex asked, being less than tactful.

  “Even her.” Clara sighed. “She wasn’t evil, despite what she’d done. The magic Sophia Baron taught her warped her mind and corrupted her desires. If any of us were terrified of death, it was her. Jessica wanted to be able to keep our immortality and powers when we reverted back to humanity. It was why Sophia was able to prey on her fears.”

  “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about her anymore,” I said, with grim satisfaction.

  “I’m afraid Sophia’s remains weren’t among the abattoir we left behind,” Alex said, dryly. “Frankly, I shudder to think what the cops think happened there. The beginning of the zombie apocalypse is one of the more believable options.”

  “You’re kidding,” I said, staring at them. “Sophia Baron is alive?”

  One of my few silver linings out of this whole ordeal was gone.

  “Injured but alive,” Alex muttered. “Apparently, Jessica missed Sophia’s heart. Her position is likely destroyed in the family, though. The N’gosh ghoul clan was all but destroyed tonight and their treaty with the Barons is almost certainly moot anyway. They also lost several valuable lieutenants—”

  “Spare me the politics,” I said, sighing. “I’m just glad that she lost her chance at godhood. That’s enough for me. For now, at least.”

  “She’ll come after you,” Alex said.

  “I’ll be ready,” I said, simply. “Me and Zaddy.”

  Zadkiel, Zadkiel corrected.

  Clara smiled. “Well, I wish you the best of luck, Ms. Morgan. Don’t take this the wrong way, though, but I hope we never meet again. I’ve had enough of the supernatural to last me three lifetimes. Believe me, I know.”

  I watched her leave with a heavy heart but felt a little better about my situation. At least one person had gotten out of this alive and intact.

  You had to resurrect her, Zadkiel pointed out.

  Hush you, I said back. “You know, I’m not really up for a boyfriend right now, but if you wanted to ditch everyone outside and head back to my apartment for a night, I’d be up for it.”

  “Sounds good,” Alex said, smiling. He tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the table. “Though I am afraid we’ll have to sneak past all of the people genuinely concerned about you.”

  “I’ll try to mind zap them,” I said, lying. “Or we could go out the back.”

  “Ah,” Alex said.

  I stood up and picked up my sword. “No peeking.”

  You insult me, Zadkiel said.

  Alex took my wrist as I was about to walk to the door. “You do realize you can tell me anything, right?”

  I paused. “In the past 24 hours, I’ve lost my job with my current partners. I’ve been almost killed a dozen times. I found out Soph
ia Baron was planning on turning me into her brainwashed slave. I killed a god.”

  There is only one god, Zadkiel said.

  “Shut up,” I said, shaking my head. “I also found out my brother is undead and loving it. That part really hurts because being a vampire scares me, Alex. It scares me a lot. I don’t want to become one and I think, at best, I could be kind of like Sam but I’m more worried about becoming like Ashura. I want to mend my relationship with my only surviving family but how do I do that when I am terrified of what I’ll become? What he enjoys being? You know, this is absolutely terrible talk for getting me into bed.”

  Benny the Bartender looked up.

  I glared at him.

  Benny glared back.

  “I believe in you, Ashley. Whether you stay a dhampyr, become a full vampire, or hell, manifest as a werewolf tomorrow, you’re still you. You will make the best of your circumstance and face the future with strength, will, and…a third good thing because two doesn’t sound like enough.”

  “Thanks.”

  We headed out the door into the alleyway beyond, which was like seemingly every other alleyway in New Detroit: covered in graffiti and ominous.

  “I mean, we’re all in agreement Ashura is crazy, right? That’s not just me? My brother is insane for having married her. I mean, yes, she’s rich and hot and made him immortal but—okay, I may need to reevaluate my argument.”

  That was when I saw a woman standing at the other end of the alleyway. She was beautiful with long dark hair, pale skin, and was a bit taller than me. She was also wearing a fedora and a trench coat that made her look like a discount Carmen Sandiego. It was her presence, though, that shocked me.

  I recognized it.

  “What’s wrong?” Alex asked.

  I pushed him to one side. “Anna?”

  My long missing sister raised her head and smiled. “Hey, Ash,” she said. “I don’t suppose you have a moment?”

  I barely reached her before she collapsed.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I muttered, holding her in my arms. I needed my brother’s help to save her life. “Alex! Arthur!”

  Apparently, this night wasn’t over yet.

  I hadn’t even gotten to catch my werebear either!