by Ben Zackheim
"Partners."
"I'm not about to mess that up."
I dropped into my chair next to the fireplace. It was the kind of conversation that needed to get drowned in whiskey, which I got to doing immediately.
I didn't like talking about Rebel. I didn't like to think about her in that way. I trudged through the feelings for about five seconds when I looked up from my chair.
The vampire was still standing in front of the fire, watching the flames lick the brick. I couldn't read him.
"What's wrong with you?" I asked, taking another swig in case his answer was going to keep the fucking conversation going even longer.
Fox didn't answer. He just started to walk around the room. Pacing would be a better word. His hands folded behind his back like he was pondering the oiliest crevices of existence.
I let him do this for five minutes. I'm stubborn that way. I hate asking for something twice so if he was going to go mute on me then that was his problem. But the sound of his shoes pressing into the Persian rug beneath his feet started to get to me. It took a minute for me to realize that he was stepping in sync with my heartbeat. Vampires are sensitive to that kind of thing. Like women living together, vampires found a way to sync up their rhythm with humans.
“Fox,” I said. He didn’t respond. “Fox!”
“Yeah,” he said, not stopping.
“One more step and I’ll stuff you in my portal for the rest of your immortal life with all the other junk.”
He stopped. He twirled on his heels and sat in the chair next to me.
Yeah, that’s right. He twirled. A sign of joy? No, it couldn’t be.
But the smile on his face was the clincher.
Fox was happy.
Chapter 24
“What is that on your face?” I asked.
“What? Where?” He started fingering his face randomly. Wow, he was nervous.
“Just… there, lower. Above your chin. No below your nose.” He realized I was being sarcastic and his smile dropped back down to dour immortal mode.
“You’re funny,” he said. He looked into the fire. The flame’s color almost made him look human. Or maybe it was the way he was acting that made him seem more human. “It’s gone now so lay off, Kane.”
“Good. Don’t do it again. Freaked me out. Why did it crawl up from the pits of your torn soul, anyway?” I asked, surprised by the tinge of jealousy I felt.
“I don’t know,” he lied.
But I knew what it was. Still, I had to dig. I had to hear him say it.
“Don’t bother,” I said. “I think Rebel is into shape-shifters these days.”
He glanced at me and it was my turn to smile.
“Demon spawn? You lie.”
“What’s wrong with demon spawn?” Lucas yelled down from the upper stacks somewhere.
“I do lie. A lot. But not now.”
He straightened in his chair. I think he was trying to collect himself. But he wasn’t doing a very good job of it.
“You’re imagining things,” he said, firmly. “I’m asking about her for a friend.”
“Jesus Christ,” I said. “You’re an amateur. I can’t believe Lancelot has zero control when his fee-fees get gobsmacked.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on. Cut out the act, Fox.”
“No, I don’t have any idea what fee-fees are.”
“I’m not saying she wouldn’t be into you, undead, cursed shell of a man. But you need to be patient.”
“I’m not patient,” he said, sinking in his chair a bit.
“You’re a vampire. You have nothing but time.”
“Maybe I do. But she doesn’t.”
“Oh, you only like them young and hot, huh? Leave them at the first varicose vein?”
“No, I…”
“One wrinkle brings down the axe. BOOM! Bye-bye, baby.”
“What…”
“No bikini, no Vamp-weenie.”
“Shut up!”
“Sorry. Once I get going…”
“I have not…” he started, once again having a hard time finding the words. “I haven’t felt like this for a long time, Arkwright.”
I nodded. What could I say? Then it hit me. I knew exactly what I could say.
“Wait a second. Are you telling me you haven’t had feelings for a woman since Guinevere?”
He didn’t answer. He just kept staring at the fire. The mention of her name had added a certain weight to the room. Even the fireplace popped less. Lucas was doing an amateur job of eavesdropping from the third balcony. His long nose stuck out over the banister.
We sat in silence for a while. Two guys thinking about one girl. My own feelings, messed up as they were, couldn’t factor in here. It was a dangerous moment. If I started talking to another guy about Rebel, my best friend, partner and frequent puller of heart strings, then, well, there was no telling where the night would end up. Not well. That much I could tell you.
“You have feelings for Rebel,” he said.
“Don’t start with me.”
“It’s understandable.”
“You know what isn’t understandable? Your sudden personality change into the soft sensitive type. Can we go back to your dour, judgmental Fox. The one that leads fucking ghost armies of Knights of the Round Table? I didn’t like him, but I liked him better.”
“Sorry.”
I stared at him, wide-eyed.
“What?” he asked.
“You are gone. She is way under your skin. Snap out of it, Fox! If you’re interested, then make a move. See if she’s open to it. That’s how it’s done.”
Another minute passed before he spoke again.
“There was one other,” he said. “One other woman. She was a secretary in Manhattan.”
I activated my ‘Listening Kane’ mode which is a very weak copy of actual Kane. I hoped Fox had some inkling of just how tough it was for me to lay off. I always wanted an older brother to smack talk with, so moments like this were ripe to practice the violent art of guy shaming.
“Where is she now?” I asked.
“Dead.”
“Sorry.”
“This was back in 1927. She worked for a mob boss. One of the nasty ones. But he had a soft spot for her. Adelaide was her name. Everyone liked her. Everyone wanted her around. Even the undead. She had a blind spot to the world that made her say things that revealed how petty we can be.”
“Sounds like a nice gal,” I said, having never used the word gal in my life. But the picture he was painting in my head of a 1927 secretary was pretty clear. And she was a total gal. He glanced at me, probably to see if I was being sarcastic. I guess I passed the test because he went on.
“We met on the docks a little north of Harry’s boat,” Fox said. “I was looking for bums to feed on. It wasn’t a good time for me. It was around midnight. I saw her standing on the edge of the pier watching the darkness of the river that met the ocean. Jersey wasn’t nearly as bright back then so it was darker than anyplace you’d find in Manhattan today. But she glowed. Even there, thinking about whatever she was thinking about, minding her own business. She was like a light for all of us moths. I thought of feeding on her, but I can’t do that to people without their consent. A little voice in my head is always telling me I’m better than that.”
“The chivalrous undead,” I cracked. “Does the voice in your head sound like Guinivere?”
He looked over at me. “Yeah, actually, it does.” He watched the fireplace again. “I surprised her with a hello but she dove right into conversation. She was afraid of me, of course. She was innocent but she was not naive. She sat on a pier column and told me to sit on the one across from her.”
“She was either special or stupid.”
“Watch it, Kane.”
“Okay, okay, just saying it’s not usually a good idea to hang out with strangers on the dock at midnight is all.”
“Have you been listening to what I’
ve been saying?”
“I’ve been Listening Kane this whole time, yeah. Not cutting it?”
“I don’t understand you. Like I said. She had a blind spot but that was who she was. We spoke and became friends. I suspected that she knew what I was.”
“How? There were barely any of you running around back in the 20s.”
“Just a suspicion. When she did find out she wasn’t surprised. In fact, she said there were others that…”
He stopped. He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Tabitha,” he said. “I remember where I’ve seen her before.”
Chapter 25
“Tabitha was a mob wife,” Fox said as he paced, trying to remember everything he could scrape up from the bottom of his immortal brain. “Or maybe she wasn’t a wife, but a girlfriend. To Joe Kelly.”
“I know that name,” I said. “Manhattan during prohibition.”
“Yeah. But a not-so-known part of life in prohibition is that vampires were hunted hard by the world governments. It was all part of the puritanical wave. A response to the glamour and excess of the roaring 20s. There were about 300 vampires in the city back then. By the time the war came around to distract them from hunting us, there were 21.”
“So she made it through. Any idea how?”
“Yeah, she hooked up with Joe Kelly.”
“He was a mob boss,” I jumped in. “Based downtown on Lafayette or Great Jones, I think. Three Pointers Gang?” Fox nodded his head. “Nasty assholes. They were ahead of the curve on sadistic ways to kill anyone who crossed them.”
“I saw their handiwork up close,” Fox said. “Young man. Maybe eighteen. He shot a little too high too fast and Kelly was threatened. Didn’t take much with him, insecure prick. So he stuck the kid’s head in a bird cage and filled it with hungry rats. Dumped the body on the piers for all of us bums and undead to see.”
“And Tabitha hung out with these people?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how involved she was, but she knew what was going on. I’d call her the opposite of Adelaide.”
“Who’s Adelaide?” Rebel asked, walking into the room.
“An old friend,” he said. He turned to me. “I don’t think your new girlfriend’s name was Tabitha back then, Kane. But if I remember right, she disappeared after the police raided their headquarters and shut the gang down.”
“What’s in the building now?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. I took out my cell phone and started a search.
“Joe Kelly, Three Point Gang, 59 Great Jones Street,” Lucas said. He looked over the thick book in his hands and gave us his best snooty look.
“Thanks Lucas,” I said. He slapped the book shut.
I punched in the address. I wanted to see what had taken the place of the mob HQ.
“What the fuck?” I said, looking at my smart phone.
“What is it?” Rebel asked.
“It’s nothing.” I held up the phone and showed them. The building was abandoned. It was covered in decades of graffiti and lame attempts to cover the graffiti.
“On Great Jones Street? That’s impossible. That’s one of the hottest parts of New York City.”
“There must be something wrong with it if it hasn’t become a lame ass boutique,” I said.
“Being a vampire lair could be a strike against it,” Fox said.
“Lucas!” I yelled.
“Whaaaat?” he yelled back, annoyed.
“Find out who holds the deed on 59 Great Jones Street in Manhattan.”
“That’s how you ask?”
“Please!”
I heard grumbling from above and then the distinct hum of Pars being opened. Pars was a kind of Facebook for demons. They’d had it for over a thousand years, as Lucas liked to brag. He shared knowledge with fellow librarians and researchers there. They could Like and comment and post Moments, which are actual moments stolen out of time where the people in the image are stuck there for all eternity. I accidentally saw one that he posted a few years back and still can’t get it out of my head. Demons are fucked up.
Lucas came to the edge of the balcony. “This might take awhile,” he said.
“What’s wrong?” Rebel asked.
“Well, I don’t know how to say this but no one knows who owns the building. The good news is that us demons don’t like a mystery. It’s bad for the digestive system. My post has gone viral so we should get an answer soon.”
“Viral as in viral? Or viral as in viral?” I asked, worried that we were mixing demon and tech lingo.
“Whatever it takes to get you your answer, Mr. Kane.”
I could swear he smiled.
The Jeep Rubicon was a beast but it was my beast. I’d never taken it to the city before. It’s not exactly urban material. But it was the only vehicle I had that wasn’t a two-seater.
“Don’t worry about me,” Fox said. “I’m not going with you.” He jumped straight up, dropped until he almost body slammed the driveway and then swooped up like a kite catching the wind at the last second.
He was out of sight within two seconds.
“What an asshole,” I said.
“I’d love to be able to do that,” Rebel said.
Fox would be happy to neck the hell out of you if you want.
Almost said it out loud. Didn’t.
We buckled up and I slammed my foot on the gas to show off. Rebel didn’t flinch. She just looked ahead, deep in thought.
Her cell rang and she sighed.
“What do you have, Lucas?” She listened for a moment and then banged her head against the headrest again. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Sounds painful. But I was actually referring to the deed on the old mob HQ. You sure? No one? How can New York City not have a record of an owner of a building in Manhattan? No, it’s not your fault, sorry. What? Really?”
“What?” I asked, curious. The mood in the Jeep had shifted. I knew that expression on her face. She was focused.
“You’re kidding me,” she said to Lucas.
“Is it the twins?”
“Quiet, Kane,” she hissed. “So looks like we know where to go next. Thanks Lucas. Great work. No I’m not referring to your nose job. I didn’t know you had a nose job. Okaythanksbye.” She hung up before he could throw any more unwanted information at her.
“There’s a phallus museum,” she said. “In Iceland.”
“Great,” I said. “Looks like you were right. Embrace the dick.”
“We need to get back there, Kane.”
“After we scope out Great Jones Street.”
She sighed. “Why are we doing this? We have the shield. We need to find out what to do with it. Maybe there’s a cock map in the museum.”
“Oh, you mean a MAN-ual?”
“That’s borderline funny.”
“Tabitha knows what to do with the shield,” I said. “She knows a lot. If we find her and get her to trust us it will save a lot of time.”
“And you know this because your dick told you?”
“That’s borderline funny, Rebel. No, I know because she’s the one who told me about the shield which means she’s in on the Mjölnir-shield connection.”
“Yeah, she’s in on it, all right.”
“Yeah. It could be a trap, but I’m not convinced.”
“No, you’re just delusional. You’re getting played.”
“That’s why I have you around. Keep me grounded.”
“Oh, I thought I was here to keep you alive.”
“You say tomato…”
“Okay, look we follow this one clue and then we hop in your thingy and go back to Iceland first thing. Got it?”
“It’s like you can read my mind.”
“No thanks. I don’t want to get anywhere near that thing.”
As usual, we people-watched as we rolled down New York City’s avenues. It’s the one thing Rebel and I have in common. People fascinate us. We’d see
n the best and worst of them and we still couldn’t figure them out. Sure, we were human, but we never felt like it.
We hit downtown fast after a surreal run of green lights on 11th Avenue.
“There it is,” Rebel said, pointing to the decrepit building sitting amongst the most upscale shops in New York City.
I took one look at the place and I knew.
Tabitha was nearby.
59 Great Jones was exciting, dark, and not at all what it appeared to be. On one side of the building was a boutique, packed with socks that cost a month’s wages for most people. On the other side was a cat carrier shop for hedge funders. I think there were maybe five carriers total in the store.
Attractive, young people passed 59 as if they didn’t see it. I wasn’t sure if it was a spell or if it was just rich people not able to see the dirty side of the city. Rich breeding does that, I hear.
We sat in the Jeep, watching. I saw some movement on the roof and squinted to get a better look. Rebel saw it too.
“Is that Fox?” I asked.
“Nope,” Rebel said.
“You sure,” I asked.
“Yup.” I turned to look at her and Fox was peeking into her passenger’s side window.
Rebel popped open the door.
“You fly fast,” she said.
“Second thoughts,” Fox said.
“You don’t have to go in,” I said.
“I don’t think you should either,” he said.
“Why?” Rebel asked. She always gets to the point faster than the rest of us.
“Bad feeling.”
She pushed her door open wide, forcing him to take a step back.
“You have to do better than that,” she said. She turned to study the building one last time.
“Shall we go through the front door?” she asked me.
“After you,” I said.
“Such a gentleman,” she said, smiling.
“Only a gentleman makes a lady take point,” I said to Fox. He wasn’t amused. “Cheer up, grumpy. You have to plow ahead in this business, especially when your instincts tell you not to. Trick of the trade.”
“I’m not afraid for me,” he said. “I’m afraid for you.”
