by Al K. Line
It's hard to explain, and unless you've experienced it I guess it's impossible to understand. All I knew was that I hoped I was right. I had a calmness inside, a feeling of everything being just right. Happiness, I think that's what it might have been. Although don't hold me to that, as it's not the easiest of emotions for me to be sure of. Contentment maybe. At home, doing what I loved doing, with people I loved being with. Almost like normal, like citizens ready to eat and talk about their day.
Except I couldn't just talk openly about my day, as there were young children present, and I had killed three women that morning as if it was nothing, and for no other reason than they'd hurt my pride more than my face. What kind of sick, twisted person was I?
I scalded my hand on the insanely volatile bread as I tried to rip it into pieces. Served me right.
With my mood darkened—and I had to have a serious word with my head as why did I keep doing this to myself?—I let thoughts of death drift away before I sank any deeper, and focused on the present.
We ate quickly, everyone ravenous. The adults from the stresses of this magical life, the youngsters from the much greater stresses of finding a place in the world and trying to understand how the many disparate pieces fit together. They had one hell of a journey ahead of them, one that would never end.
The talk was loud, the words often meaningless, as children seem to have a language all of their own, but it was fun, and I was even allowed to clean up the kitchen in peace as everyone went to snuggle up on the sofa in the den once the girls had got their nighties on and brushed their teeth.
I pottered about, enjoying the silence, the chance to perform mundane tasks to the very best of my ability. It centered me, calmed me, allowed me to put this thing called life into perspective.
Soon enough the girls were off to bed, giving Uncle Arthur a nice kiss before they headed off wiping their faces and moaning about my kisses being all bristly.
George came in behind me in the kitchen and wafted a cigarette in front of my face.
"You forgot," she said with a smile.
"I didn't forget, I just couldn't bear for the girls to moan about how my breath smelled if I smoked before giving them a kiss." I snatched the rollie and nodded thanks.
"You big softy." George kissed me on the cheek then yawned. "Damn, I'm shattered."
"Me too."
"I'm going up to my room to chill out. You okay, Dad?"
"Yes, honey, I'm fine."
"Don't get into any trouble," she warned.
"As if." I winked at George then watched her leave. I don't know what I did to deserve her, but damn I was one lucky man.
Outside, I lit up then inhaled deeply, blowing smoke into the frosty night air. There was a clear sky, billions of stars shining, and I stared for the longest time at this universe I had a tiny place in, so insignificant as to be meaningless yet at the same time knowing I'd created this entire universe, this world I inhabited, as no two are alike. We each see things differently, understand things in a unique way, and there are as many worlds as people, reality nothing more than a manifestation of our own existence.
We are as naught yet we are everything, and every time a person dies a whole world dies with them. It can depress you if you let it. I smoked until I could smoke no more, the filter burning my already blistered fingers, then returned to the kitchen to find Vicky sitting at the table with two cups of coffee.
"So?" she asked, eyes sparkling.
"So, now we plan."
"With some dastardly plotting thrown in?"
"You betcha."
Time to get busy.
Popping Round to Ivan's
Vicky and I bickered for half an hour while she set up her laptop and we went over what we needed to find out. Once she'd listened, and promised to do as I asked, she told me to bugger off as she had a lot of work to do. It would take her several hours and she wanted no interruptions. This was how she usually worked when deep into black hat territory in the digital world I knew nothing about. Her hacking skills were top tier, but she needed quiet and focus, and I knew I'd only be in the way. I decided to take a little trip to ease my mind and ensure we were going about this madness in the right way.
I hadn't been to Ivan's new place yet, as he'd moved yet again, trying to find somewhere he felt comfortable with.
As I pulled up outside his very posh, very expensive Georgian townhouse, I knew he'd made the right decision this time. He lived on a row of identical houses, each with freshly painted wrought iron fencing and gates, the facades so white they gleamed even with only the light of the streetlights. Original windows and brightly painted front doors complete with gleaming brass door furniture told you that you were in a street where everyone had money. And if the three-story townhouses weren't enough, the array of mind-blowingly expensive cars parked on the street confirmed that these cats had cash.
I knocked on Ivan's door and ten seconds later a woman I'd seen several times but not yet spoken to answered. His new aide. A decision I found odd but understandable if you thought about it logically. I just didn't see Ivan having someone running around after him, but then, he wasn't the man he once was, and times change.
"Hi, is Ivan at home?" I asked.
"He is. Please, come in. Is he expecting you?" asked the woman whose name I'd forgotten. She had a very thin frame, angular features, pale skin, and a short blond bob that made her look like a tomboy but attractive with it. She wore a finely tailored suit with a simple white blouse, her wide, swimmer's shoulders making it hang stylishly.
"Nope."
"Please, wait in here." She indicated an informal room with sofas, bookcases, and a nice roaring fire. It even had a drinks area.
Ivan had made the place classy; I was impressed. Thick rugs, dark walls, several old landscape paintings, and even the odd nick-nack made it homely yet rather grand without being ostentatious. I liked it. I sank into a wingback chair and sighed. What a nice place to live.
Ivan appeared soon after, looking smart in his usual dark suit, his hair limp and wet like he'd not long showered. He was alert, a little too alert, and his eyes were deep and focused, sparkling orange as they caught the light of the fire that filled the room with the pungent smell of aged oak.
"Damn, sorry. I forgot. You planning on letting loose this evening?"
"No, not this month. And don't mention it, Arthur, you're always welcome. I'm glad you've come. We don't spend much time together any more."
"You know how it is. So, you're not changing tonight?"
"No. What about Vicky, did she change yesterday?"
"You could say that. But don't worry about it." I'd completely forgotten about the moon, that Vicky had shifted last night and this time of the month was important for Ivan too. But he could control it at will, had the option to change for several days either side of the full moon. The vampire nature had hardened his resolve, made him stronger and increased his will, so he often forewent the change.
"To what do I owe the pleasure? Is this about the strangeness the other day? What was that all about?"
"Oh, you know how these things go. All sorted now. Thanks for looking after the girls. Vicky really appreciates it, you know."
"I know. It was my pleasure. Were you doing anything important?"
"Let's not talk too much business. I wanted to see how you were doing, how life's treating you with your new role, all this responsibility."
"And you said you didn't want to talk business. Something's happening, isn't it?"
Ivan was a smart man, knew something was up, as why else would Vicky be getting him to watch the girls, so I had to be careful or he'd be spying on us and we didn't need the hassle.
"No, just the usual. Maniacs playing games, Vicky doing some hacking. Normal insanity I can do in my sleep. Um, if I could get any."
"I see."
"So, what's it like being in charge? Still no trouble?"
"No, none to speak of. It's gone smoothly. I told you all this last year after Mik
alus..."
"Yeah, after that. Just wondered how it was now everyone's had time to settle in to it, get used to you being in charge. And the council, how's that working out?"
"Very well. It keeps everyone happy, allows things to run smoothly so I can focus on what I know. They do the vampire business, keep track of everyone, ensure nobody steps out of line and everyone knows the rules, and I do the same for the less than savory side of things."
I knew all about the unsavory side. Ivan was a mass of contradictions. He'd inherited, after killing his old boss, the role as head of crime in the city and surrounding areas and had quickly consolidated it, changed many things, and taken over most of the criminal activity in the country. He ruled with an iron fist, but was fair, and citizens were kept out of the business.
Ivan would not stand for innocents getting hurt, so there were no shakedowns, no slave labor, no human trafficking of any sort. It had made a difference. Crime figures were at an all time low, but he also oversaw most of the drug traffic, including heroin, and it didn't sit well with me. Sure, if he wasn't doing it, and doing it well and as safely as you can when dealing with a drug that undoubtedly ruined countless lives, someone less savory would take control, but still, it rankled. I knew he hated it too, but was a pragmatist, yet it was there, a real concern. He babysat for the girls, yet he was a drug dealing vampire boss of the criminal underworld.
"So?" Ivan raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing, just a visit to say hi. I know I've been angry with you, a little aloof, but that's all in the past, right?"
"Sure. I had hoped you would work for me, but I understand."
"Good. And Ivan?"
"Hmm?"
"You're a good uncle, and the girls love you."
"You too. Thank you for saying so, it means a lot."
"They're great kids, aren't they?"
"The best."
There was a knock at the door and an entirely average voice said, "Excuse me."
"Come in. What is it?"
"A call you should take," said the ordinary looking man as he stepped into the room. I remembered him, just, although it was hard to be sure. But with my new knowledge of vampires and the fact I was on a similar wavelength to them now when in their presence, I could recall him. This was the Second, the true Second from my first encounter way back when I'd handed over Mikalus' ashes and set all this insanity in motion.
"Hi," I said with a smile.
The Second nodded and waited for Ivan.
Damn, he was so bland, so normal in every way it was almost impossible to recall him the moment you looked away. I had to remind myself this was how all the vampires appeared to citizens and magic users alike. They were faceless nobodies, impossible to recall, easy to forget, able to hide in plain sight. The perfect camouflage.
Dangerous, that's what they were. If they wanted they could destroy us. You'd never remember them, never be able to identify them, they could do what they wanted and get away with it. Yet they remained in the shadows, kept a low profile so they could conduct their business and not be interfered with.
One day I knew I'd discover what their true intentions were. No way were they going to just stay quiet and remain so aloof forever. They were up to something, I was sure, but I had no idea what.
"Arthur?"
"Sorry, miles away."
"If you'll excuse me?"
"Sure, see me out, this was just a quick visit to say hi."
Ivan looked confused but nodded.
We said our goodbyes at the door and the Second closed it behind him. I'd already forgotten what he looked like.
A Fear of Hairy Balls
I got in the car and drove through the settling city, keeping my mind blank, empty of emotion or thought. I wanted to wait to think about all this, feel relaxed and clear-headed, plus, I had already formulated a partial plan of how I could possibly pull this off, and if I thought about it too much, I was sure to change my mind.
With the roads deserted, only the workaholics, the alcoholics, the homeless, or the students now out and about, I drove to somewhere that was a sanctuary for the weary wizard. A place where you were always welcome, if you had a membership, and there was always a grunt to greet you.
Satan's Breath.
As I pulled up outside, I sat with the engine ticking as it cooled in the frigid evening air, neither waiting for anything or to muster energy, just sitting.
The car park was almost empty, just several battered old vehicles and a bicycle belonging to my fellow wizards. There were no street lights in this part of the city, the factories and industrial buildings now mostly abandoned, left to rot and be reclaimed by the city that seemed to be winning the battle against man's progress. From the exterior, Satan's Breath was uninspiring, a boxy building with little in the way of redeeming features apart from the strange, oversized entrance.
I stepped out into the freezing night, wrapped my coat tight, and exhaled my frustration and indecision.
Pushing through the doors, I was greeted with an inferno of heat and steam, and this was just the lobby. Between a counter that was new a mere year ago but now looked ready to rot, and shelves lined with rolled up towels looking equally as dubious, stood the Turk. His mustache had grown, something I thought impossible, and it sat thick and limp on the Turk's fat, blotchy face like a well-fed caterpillar that had found a peculiar home but had decided to make do and not cause a fuss.
His vest, once white, now as gray as the towels, was stained. Sweat marks could be seen running from his armpits before joining those caused by his huge belly pushing tight against the cheap cotton. He never seemed to sleep, was always at his station, but that was his business.
"Evening," I whispered, although I don't know why. Maybe it was because this place was almost holy. Shame it offered no redemption.
"Arthur. Been a while." The Turk scratched at his belly; flesh rippled beneath the vest.
"Yeah, been busy. How're things?"
"The usual. Idiots keep bringing lobsters with them, think I won't mind."
"You have to admit, it is pretty hot."
"If I made it cooler you lot would complain. Do you know how much it costs me to heat the water to that degree? Believe me, if I could have it cold, I would."
"Wouldn't be much of a sauna and steam room if it was cold."
"Exactly. So I told them, no bloody lobsters."
"Fair enough. I have no lobsters about my person. You wanna check?"
The Turk eyed me suspiciously then grinned, a worrying expression on his sweaty face. He grunted, "Sign in."
I did as I was told then took the towel offered and headed into the changing room.
I checked my wards were intact and performing properly, cast a suspicious glance around but the place was deserted, then opened up my private locker and stashed my clothes. There were several items inside that I needed for the job, but that could wait until after.
With the familiar trepidation, I wrapped the towel around my waist and headed for the main room where the pool was. I pictured wizards dropping their lobsters into the water and waiting for them to boil. It wouldn't take long.
Grace circulated cool air so my head didn't melt and slide down my shoulders, but I was already sweating by the time I walked through one of the many arches. One wizard was in the water, bright red and grinning worryingly, two others lounged on recliners, seemingly asleep.
I sat on the edge and slowly put my feet in the water, watching with interest as the skin turned puce and my body fought not to go into shock. Over the next ten minutes I lowered myself into the boiling water until only my head was above the water line, and it was there I stayed for fifteen minutes, letting the aches and pains ease, the magical healing properties of the water dissolve bruises, cuts, and scrapes. When I got up the nerve, I splashed my face, easing the pain in my nose and the strange ache I had in my ears. What was that all about?
Finally, I could stand it no more, so jumped out and went for a freezing cold shower before
returning and relaxing on a recliner. I lay there for the longest time, letting idle thoughts float on by, allowing my mind to assimilate the information I'd received over the last few days, to weigh things up, form opinions unfettered by others, and for inspiration to hit.
Nothing came to mind, so all was as well as it would get. There were no deep revelations, everything seemed exactly as it had been presented. The trip to Ivan's had been worthwhile, just to see him. It had confirmed that we were making the right decision, that he was certainly full of faults but didn't deserve what Mabel had in mind. More than that. Nobody did, as her actions would be a major headache for all of us, could change our way of life for good. Bad as things sometimes were, life was stable in an odd way, and I didn't want that messed with.
I knew Vicky would be getting antsy now, as however much she insisted she wanted to be left alone to work, she went rabid if she didn't have someone to talk to for more than an hour. Maybe she'd finished doing what she needed to do.
I got up, dripping like I'd just had a shower, making a note to get some salt in me when I got home, then returned to the locker room to dry off as best I could and retrieve several very important items.
No Time Like the Present
Drive. Gates. Barn. Another car. Home.
Sometimes my life felt like one big merry-go-round, one I could get off if I wasn't so damn paranoid because everyone was out to get me. Never mind, I was here now, safe in the comfort of my own home.
"Where the hell have you been?" screeched Vicky as I stepped into my kitchen, no longer an oasis of tranquility.
"What have you done to my kitchen?" I screeched back, aghast at the carnage. Spilled coffee, knives left out, containers coated in sticky substances, tea towels were off center where they hung over the counter, and there was even a drawer partially open.
