Arc 2

by RoAnna Sylver

  “Try again later,” Jasper said, not unkindly, and he sounded optimistic at least. Still, Jude could practically feel the worry coming off him along with the fatigue. “He’s sleeping right now—finally. He didn’t get much yesterday.”

  “Seems like nobody’s getting much sleep right now.” Jude’s brow furrowed a bit. He couldn’t see the rest of Jasper, but he began to suspect it wasn’t just fatigue making his old friend look especially drawn; he looked like he’d lost weight around his face and worry began to coil in the pit of Jude’s stomach.

  “Indeed.” Jasper was deadpan—a good sign for him—but Jude could only imagine what Felix’s sleepless days were like, for either of them. He didn’t ask, and he had the feeling Jasper appreciated it. After all this time there just wasn’t much they could hide from one another, but sometimes they still had to make an attempt.

  “Nightmares?” Jude did have to ask that part, feeling his ever-present twinge of worry intensify a little. This wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, even if everything else was, he told himself. Of course Felix and Pixie would both have nightmares; it would be more unusual if they didn’t. Still, he was hard-wired to pay attention to coincidences, and not to trust them.

  “Bad ones,” Jasper said. “But I mean it, please do try again later. And try not to take it too personally. It isn’t just you, Jude, Eva was by earlier and he wouldn’t see her either. I know he misses you, and I think he’s getting closer to surfacing again. He just needs...”

  “Some time, yeah,” Jude nodded and picked up where Jasper trailed regretfully off.

  It was almost a script by now. They’d had that same interaction almost every day ever since they’d gotten Felix home, so this hardly came as a surprise by now. He also understood Felix’s urge to withdraw, but he couldn’t say it didn’t hurt, knowing Felix was alive and right here, but still too far away to touch, still buried too deep for Jude to speak to him and start to make up for all their lost time. They’d all lost time, even if they hadn’t lost each other in the end.

  “I’ll talk to you after work,” Jude said, trying to inject some positivity into his tone. He never could tell if he really succeeded. “Tell him... I’m thinking about him.”

  “I definitely will.” Jasper smiled gently, and for just a moment, he looked like himself again. Jude hoped he also got the sleep he obviously needed, and that Felix found some peace of mind. Maybe Jude would be able to tell Felix himself soon. It didn’t hurt to hope, at least, another lesson he’d learned hard and well.

  “Just… don’t give up on him,” Jasper said. “Or us. Please.”

  “Never,” Jude said without hesitation. “I’ll be right here when he’s ready. When both of you are.”

  “That’s all I can ever ask,” Jasper said as Jude started to go. “And Jude, wait—”

  “Yes?” He stopped, turning around quickly, and surprising himself with a wave of anticipation and hope. He missed Jasper, and Felix, more than he was comfortable letting himself acknowledge; something about pining after them when they were dealing with so much uncertainty and pain felt intrusive. But he did, and he hung on Jasper’s every word.

  “Did I hear it was your last day?”

  “You did, yeah.”

  Jasper grinned, and he looked even more like himself now, bright-eyed and mischievous. “Make it a good one. If you’ve ever dreamed about keying a deserving colleague’s car, now would be the time.”

  “I’m deciding that I didn’t hear that suggestion of malicious vandalism,” Jude said, looking pointedly up toward the ceiling. “Because I’m not done yet.”

  “No, you’re not—and neither are we. I’ll see you soon.”

  As Jasper quietly closed the door, Jude gave a parting wave and headed down the hall toward the stairwell, forcing himself to leave his worries behind him. Some, at least.

  It was not Eva’s last day, and even if were, she’d most likely still dress like it was her first. Heels at the very least. Never higher than an inch or two—she liked the power click, but she also liked to be able to move. Old firefighting habits died hard, and particularly now, after everything she’d learned about vampires, witches, and general peril, she was extremely aware of the importance of being able to duck and run with no warning, even during the daytime.

  Her shoes did indeed have a satisfying click-click-click, though, so nice that they almost created the illusion of productivity and purpose. But she was really just wandering the length of the mall, like Jude on his rounds (or whatever he was actually doing). And her mind was elsewhere. Specifically, back in the apartment complex she shared with Jude, Jasper, Letizia, Nails, Maestra, and now, once again, Felix.

  That place was getting crowded, with friends and secrets.

  Felix. She’d taken a rare day off yesterday, spent it resting, relaxing, exfoliating, wallowing in her jealousy that Jude was really leaving all the nonsense behind—doing all the things she felt so guilty about indulging in ordinarily. And talking to her once-lost friend, but not face-to-face.

  She’d stood outside the door. Then sat on the floor. She knew he was there, the same way he had to know she was there. She just started talking. About her day, her week, how it had been before they’d gotten him back. How boring, compared to their old lives. How she’d actually liked the boredom sometimes, found it restful, but how it could never compare to having Felix home. How much they’d all missed him. How much she still missed him.

  He never opened the door, but when she finally got up to leave, she heard something, a reply from inside for the first time.

  “Don’t give up on me.”

  His voice was so much rougher now, distorted, like his half-transformed features. Nobody who didn’t know him would say he looked or sounded remotely like he used to—but Eva did know him. Too well for a thing like a permanent vampire morph to keep her from recognizing her friend. Felix was Felix, no matter what else changed.

  “I won’t. I didn’t,” she said immediately, maybe a little too quickly. The first part might be true, but the second one sounded fake even to herself. There was only one of them who hadn’t given up on Felix, and she couldn’t escape the thought that she and Jasper had almost given up on Jude too.

  As Jasper’s name crossed her mind, his shop crossed her path. She hesitated. The storefront was closed, metal grate pulled down to the floor, but she caught a glimpse of someone moving around inside. Which wouldn’t have been unusual, except that Jasper was home, last she’d heard. He definitely wasn’t in today.

  But someone evidently was.

  “Jude?” she said into her walkie. It would be so hard to break that habit. “Jasper never came in today, did he?”

  “No,” came his reply after a second. “I just talked to him, he’s at home. Why?”

  “His store’s closed but there’s movement inside. Probably just maintenance or something, but… you know, with everything new…”

  “On my way,” he said without hesitation.

  “No, I’m on it. But if I don’t call back in ten minutes…”

  “Got it. I’ll be here—for a little while longer.”

  “Thanks. Have a great last day, by the way. Over and out.”

  And that was that. Eva didn’t have to say what was on both of their minds, and he didn’t have to ask. He had her back, and always would even if he didn’t work here anymore. Some things would never change. The knowledge was comforting as she dug out her keys and unlocked the grate as quietly as possible.

  “Jasper?” Eva called as she slipped inside, on the off-chance they’d been wrong, and he had come in today without saying anything. Maybe it was him. And if it wasn’t, it probably wasn’t human, which meant it would know she was here already.

  She moved as silently as possible through the maze of packed shelves and tight turns, painfully aware that she was armed only with slightly pointy keys, tension building in her stomach with every step. Slowly, she peered around the last shelf at the back counter, and at who stood behind it.
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  It wasn’t Jasper. It wasn’t even human.

  But Eva still relaxed all at once, letting her breath out in a rush. “Oh, it’s you. You scared me!”

  “Yes, it’s me. Sorry to frighten, but I had urgent business here.” Letizia stood behind the counter, poring over a heavy, leather-bound book, as Eva had seen Jasper do several times before. The witch turned a page too quickly, almost tearing the aged, thin paper. She didn’t look up as Eva came near, just kept turning through the book with a fervor that bordered on the frantic.

  “What are you doing in here?” Eva asked. Letizia was a frequent visitor for the shop’s under-the-table magic trade and loose regulations about smoking joints on the premises, but Eva had only known her to drop by when the owner was actually present.

  “Looking for something,” said Letizia, who stayed absorbed in the book.

  “What kind of something?” Eva moved up to the counter and putting her hands on it as well. “Is there some... problem?”

  “There’s always some problem,” Letizia said, and her voice was unexpectedly tight, anxious. When she looked up, her face was equally disturbed.

  “Well, what are we dealing with?” Familiar adrenaline made Eva’s heart beat faster, making her stand more solidly. “Is that big bad vampire back, what’s his name—Cruce?”

  “No, he’s dead.”

  “Dead?” Eva’s eyebrows shot up. “Dead how? When? Wait.” She pressed her lips together, spine straightening as tension spread throughout her whole body. “And how would you know?”

  “Relax,” Letizia said, and her slight, tired-looking smile actually made it possible. Just a bit. “I didn’t kill him. Though often’s the time I wish I had. No, I hear things, and when I heard this particular thing, I simply verified. Cruce is indeed dead—I just wish he’d have taken a few more problems with him.”

  “What kind of problems?” Eva asked.

  “Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” Letizia said, not unkindly, but with a definite current of tension underneath. Still, Eva had never accepted words like those, no matter the tone.

  “It doesn’t sound like nothing. If I had to guess, I’d say you were scared—”

  “I am not scared!” Letizia snapped, eyes briefly flashing white. Eva had been right; she was definitely tense, worryingly so. Eva didn’t move, instead watching carefully as the not-quite-human scowl faded from Letizia’s face and her eyes dimmed to normal. She sighed then, shoulders that had bunched up around her ears dropping until she just looked tired instead of annoyed. “I’m sorry. And… you’re right. I’m also scared.”

  “I thought so,” Eva said, but her voice and mind were free of any triumph. “And I’m feeling like maybe I should be too.”

  “Shitless.” Letizia’s shoulders slumped, and she rested her elbows on the counter and her face in her hands.

  “So how about you tell me what’s going on?” Eva asked, stepping up to lean against the counter herself. “Cruce is really dead, right?”

  “He’s dead,” Letizia said quickly, still sounding exhausted and frazzled at the same time. Eva felt a wave of empathy. Holding yourself together for other people was draining for vampires too apparently. “Nails and Maestra told me they felt him die, and they wouldn’t be wrong. Even with my spell, their connection was weakened but not broken. He’s their sire, you can’t break that bond entirely without permanent death, and when it’s severed, you—you feel it. You feel it hard.”

  “So what did happen?” Eva probed, readying the substantial logical part of her brain to shut up and accept whatever vampiric plot twists were coming her way. “Some other hunter finally get him? Because if it wasn’t you, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t any of us…”

  “No, not a hunter,” Letizia said with a shake of her head. “There’s only one other monster that could take Cruce down.”

  “Another one,” Eva said, and it wasn’t quite a question. “Should’ve known. I take it we’ll be meeting him soon?”

  “No, if I do everything right, he’ll never even know you exist.” Letizia let out a frustrated noise. “But, it’s not even about him really, there’s something else happening, something potentially…”

  “Dangerous?” Eva finished, though that wasn’t the part she found the most tantalizing. Still, her instincts advised against asking directly about whoever ‘he’ might be. Letizia had already shut down two attempts at unraveling whatever she was wrestling with, and Eva didn’t intend to try a third.

  “Not for you,” Letizia said firmly. “At least, not if I can help it.”

  “That’s not exactly what I was asking. I don’t want you going up against any monsters all by your damn self.”

  Letizia almost smiled, looking mildly surprised and pleased at the concern. “Probably not dangerous for me either. Thanks. It’s really nothing any of you should have to worry about, but it’s...”

  “...Obviously important to you,” Eva finished again, since she seemed to be on the right track so far.

  “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Letizia nodded, and looked up now. Eva wasn’t sure how much sleep vampires needed, but it definitely looked like she wasn’t getting enough. Or maybe it was The Pit’s sauce she needed, or more specifically, its signature ingredient. “That’s why I’m here. Looking for anything I can find about the magics and artifacts involved. Jasper did say I was welcome, though, whenever I needed… help.”

  It didn’t sound like this was something she was used to asking for. Or like it’d been easy, however indirect the request. So Eva tactfully let it go without comment and asked the other question on her mind. “Magic and artifacts?”

  “Yes, extremely powerful ones. It’s a long story. It’s... personal.” Letizia paused for a moment, carefully chewing her lower lip with very sharp teeth.

  “Personal how?” Eva asked, point-blank. Usually when people danced around a question, it was about being polite or sensitive. Eva had never enjoyed such social dances, and she enjoyed them even less when it seemed like they were actually about matters of life and death. “I know you’ve got your business, but this sounds like it might not stay personal forever. If it’s going to affect us, then we deserve to know what’s going on. Besides, you’ve got friends now.” Letizia’s expression seemed to reflect a new and unexpected worry and Eva added, “If you’re so worried about keeping us safe, then yeah, I’d call us friends. Sometimes it’s not a bad thing if one person’s business becomes everyone else’s.”

  “Eva, please understand.” Letizia pushed herself off the counter and straightened up. “I know I’m being enigmatic, and that’s annoying as every hell, I know. Just give me until tonight, then come to my apartment. I’ll tell you everything, you and Jude—and Pixie and Felix, if they want to know. Considering what they’ve been through, they might not.”

  “I take it Jasper already knows?”

  “Probably more than he should.” The witch smiled a bit, obviously fondly. “As usual.”

  “We’ll help however we can,” Eva said, and despite the murky specifics, meant it. “But no promises. We’re just lowly humans, after all. Most of us, anyway.”

  “I’m not asking for your help yet. I just want you to be aware.” Letizia gave her another faint smile, but this time it was one that lasted. “But thank you. And watch it—some of my best friends are lowly humans.”

  Eva and Letizia exited the shop together, walking in a companionable silence. Eva had a mountain of office work waiting for her, but she wasn’t in all that big a hurry to get back to it. It’d still be there, and moments of relative calm spent with a friend were much harder to come by. As it turned out, she was right, as this moment was interrupted much too quickly, and loudly.

  “Hey!” someone yelled from behind them, the angry shout echoing in the open, tiled space.

  Both women stopped, turning to see someone barreling toward them from the other side of the mall thoroughfare. Eva frowned immediately. She didn’t know him by name, but she recognized the d
irty clothes, wild red hair, and aggressive attitude. Wherever she’d seen him before, it wasn’t under good circumstances.

  “Hey, you! Not you,” he said as Eva spread her hands in a ‘yes, what?’ gesture. He jabbed a finger toward Letizia, who’d replaced her dark sunglasses now that they were out in public again. “You! You’ve been avoiding me for the past whole week!”

  “I can’t imagine why that would be.”

  It wasn’t Letizia who answered, but another newcomer heading toward them from the opposite direction: around the same age, but much calmer, cleaner, and more goth. Eva recognized them too, but only by reputation, the heavy eyeliner, and the neon purple hair; Milo, she recalled; they worked at one of those stores punk-ish teens liked that seemed to have a Halloween theme year-round. They moved quickly to intercept the aggravated young man, putting themself smoothly between him and Letizia.

  “Get out of here, Milo!” he snapped, looking like he wanted to stomp his foot in frustration, preferably on Milo’s own. “This is between me and her, it don’t concern you!”

  “People don’t usually enjoy being stalked,” they said as he started trying to edge around them to get at his intended target. Milo moved to block him, not aggressively, but not backing down either.

  “I wasn’t stalking anyone!” the first near-stranger yelped, indignant. “This is a public place, and I got just as much right to be here as she does!”

  “Not if she doesn’t want you following her,” came Milo’s much more level reply. “Which you were. Very obviously. If you have a question why not just ask nicely?”

  “Because she won’t talk to me,” the skinny punk said, turning his complaints to Letizia, who remained impassive and poker-faced. “Right? You don’t wanna give me the time of day!”

  Letizia said nothing, and took a calm sip out of the thermos Eva could swear she hadn’t been holding a second ago. She knew enough to suspect its contents weren’t just coffee, and that giving her trouble about it was unlikely to go anywhere.

  “Well, that’s a mistake!” he shouted, his hands balling into sharp-knuckled fists. “Seems like you’ve been making a lot of them lately. You’ll back the hell off if you know what’s good for you! Just don’t come crying to me if you end up dead!”