The unlikely pair left the hotel through the kitchens, slipping past the cooks as they griped about the intrusion. Much as Cavendish had explained in his club so long ago, they seemed to believe the hotel was a front for organized crime. Once Lucy and her would-be donor were safely in the darkened alley beyond, the Brit immediately began her journey to the centre of the city. That was where the good eating was, and it hadn’t yet hit closing time. Amy trailed behind, trying to reason with her client about the litany of dangers that existed in the city. Not least of which was Kariwase. Just as before, Lucy dismissed her concerns with pessimism. She was immortal without qualification or caveat. She’d be there where the sun burnt out, watching the sky turn dark for a final time with seven others of their kind. Her tone worried even her. Manic, almost hysterical in its enthusiasm. She swigged from the tequila with a slurred proclamation that she’d lay out anyone who attacked them.
She led them to a small café, her tequila bottle long since lost to a bin. Even plastered, Lucy was ever the environmentalist. Oh yay, another thing she’d have to live through. She wondered loudly whether Greenland was due to become green someday soon. Perhaps she’d live there with all the people responsible for needing to live there. She settled at an outside table, requesting a coffee. Her reluctant tag along ordered a burger and drink, wisely realising that there was no reasoning with the journalist.
“Smart folks know that living forever sucks. But none of them were thinking properly, right?” Lucy eventually began explaining as their food arrived. Amy gave her a concerned but attentive look, picking up her burger. “So if you think about it, they never really got a choice either,” she proposed while stealing one of her pierced companion’s chips. Or her fries, as she insisted. “At least they got to be normal. I wanna be normal…” the mousy vampire trailed off, staring at another stolen chip contemplatively. Her drunken mind couldn’t put any of it together. She was never going to be normal. Her sire was the second vampire, and she was host to the first. In Europe. Sam definitely seemed like the big brother out of all the ones she’d seen. He had the emotional maturity at least.
“Kinda fucked that up when you drank vampire blood,” Amy pointed out, mirroring her thoughts. “I like to know who my clients are before I take the job. Safiya wouldn’t tell me who awakened you. Said you’d been having a hard time,” she explained after finishing a bite of her burger.
“So you do the charity cases do you?” Lucy giggled with her chin propped up against the heel of her hand. The other woman shrugged amicably. “Sort of weird you want to be one of us. Probably see a lot of screwed up vampires.”
“I don’t want to be a vampire,” Amy corrected through a second bite. “Didn’t even want Safiya’s blood” she added with a thoughtful expression. One that made Lucy’s jaw drop. “When you do this job for a few years you get a vibe off some vampires. You don’t have the look.”
Lucy sat back in her seat with a frown, coffee absently held under her nose. At least someone didn’t see her as Sulis 2.0. Of all the things that defined that woman, capacity to kill was high up there. Her bungling reaching at redemption was hoping to end a long-held habit. In her defence, which Lucy was getting uncomfortably good at playing, she’d tapered off considerably over the 19th century. All those sad days in Scotland writing to anyone who still heeded her. Collecting pen pals was probably healthier than drinking. The Brit’s body was already demanding more blood as it cleaned the alcohol from her system. However that worked.
“Why do you do this then? There have to be easier ways. Safer ways” she eventually asked while sipping her coffee. It took the sting out of the scratching in her throat at least.
“Same reason people are nurses, fire fighters or cooks,” Amy answered confidently. “You guys need supporting. Once the thrill of being superhuman wears off, you get all existential. Scared of living forever. A few of my clients ended up dead before they finished worrying about that,” she explained with a saddened expression. Lucy nodded. A few of those who’d died defending the manor had been in under a century old. For most vampires, all awakening had done was secure a violent end. And a few decades of peak physical performance.
“I’d rather it be people like you over Cavendish” the slowly sobering vampire said in a weak attempt at humour. “I’ve met a lot of folks who think like him. They’re terrified. Mostly of consequences. Afraid that Sam, Mary and Sulis are going to string him up,” Lucy observed with a knitted brow. “Pretty reasonable, I guess. He did invite a serial killer to the one place that’s supposed to be safe.”
The two lapsed into silence, Lucy waiting for Amy to finish her meal before deciding where she’d like to go next. Unsurprisingly, her donor friend wanted to return to the hotel. Fresh from her self-imposed imprisonment, the vampire was going to do no such thing. Just the smell of the blood in the air was enough to awaken her slowly dulling senses. The streetlamps had taken on a prismatic hue, thrown into sharp relief. She exalted in the fresh air, finally happy to be somewhere that didn’t smell of booze and takeout.
It was only once the Brit was actually inhabiting the modern world as a vampire that she discovered the main drawback. Humans weren’t awake and nothing was open. As the clock crawled closer to midnight, the bars began to close, and the theatres were putting on final performances. She leaned on the railing of a bridge, the entrance to a park, and pondered. What was she going to do for the next six hours?
“Hang on, you’re not being paid” Lucy suddenly realised as her head felt like it was going to burst. Just a few more hours and the hangover would be gone. Faster if she actually drank.
Amy, who’d been accompanying her with a grumpy expression, ignored the observation and looked out over the water. She seemed pensive, almost brooding as she toyed with one of her bracelets. Her companion looked them over with a curious expression, subconsciously looking for witch’s charms or any other inroad to the vampire world. Well, the supernatural world. There were other spooky things. Lucy gave her the time to think, eyes scanning for Kariwase’s prodigious frame. Aside from the usual gaggle of misfits that hung around in a park at night, she didn’t see anyone immediately dangerous.
“What do you think the British vampires are like?” Amy asked with a curious expression, looking over her shoulder at her client. Her client that still wore a dressing gown in public. She looked back before racking her brains. She’d been to Scotland after all.
“There are a lot more older vampires over there. The senate in Scotland attracts all the old buggers from all Europe. Kinda like Sam’s tribes, they have clans. Really superstitious, I remember that much. They believed in bloodlines, hierarchy. Even the guy who,” Lucy suddenly stopped as memories stabbed at her psyche. She suppressed them, squeezing her eyes shut against the terror that even now sent her heart pounding. “Who attacked me, sorry. Yeah, his bloodline believed some silly things. Ansa let the Order exterminate them” she expounded with a small smile. What damage their choices wrought. “I can see why Sulis wanted to restart everything over here. Wish she hadn’t though.”
“That ain’t common right? Never heard of a whole bloodline being exterminated” Amy asked with wide eyes, her knuckles turning white against the wooden railing.
“Apparently, they’d been a nuisance for a while. Thaddeus wanted to kill them off, but the Fulcrum protected them. They were like priests for their weird cult.”
“Rumour has it you’re friends with the leader of that weird cult,” Amy pointed out with a suspicious expression. Perhaps she was beginning to have doubts about the perennial power of the vibe check. It forced a conflicted look onto Lucy’s features as the kindly soft-spoken woman she knew clashed with the merciless politician. She still didn’t know which was real.
“I thought I was. But she betrayed me. Kept so much from me” she answered with a hardened stare toward the sea. She felt her fingers growing their claws, digging into the wood with a creaking protest. “But hey, that’s what vampires are right? We lie, manipulate. Steal.”
The wood broke under her fingers, forcing a pained curse from her lips. She gritted her teeth as the splinters were forced out of her flesh, skin losing pallor as it knitted itself together. She shook her head, looking determinedly away from Amy’s most likely judgemental stare. Inherited the family temperament from her old lady. She’d leave it up to the fates to decide who that referred to.
“You knew a bunch of politicians. The rest of, I dunno, the community? Yeah, the community’s alright,” Amy encouraged in perhaps the most New York way Lucy had ever heard. Perhaps sans a few swear words. It was enough to put a smile on her face. A rueful, suppressed one that dimpled her cheeks. “’Sides, don’t you know any vampires that’re worth a damn?”
Lucy sunk into her memories and frowned. Her were eyes downcast as she remembered the betrayed expression Lucretia had worn. A poor girl cast into a world she didn’t understand, abandoned by people who should have cared for her. No, not people. One person. Allowing herself to be manipulated and browbeaten into doing things for the sake of being left alone. Treating people trying to help as if they were the enemy. The mousy vampire slumped, her mind beginning to draw the parallels. It was easy to justify in the moment. Less so now.
“I think I’d like that drink now” Lucy said with a meaningful expression. Amy seemed surprised, looking about to make sure nobody was watching before offering her wrist. The vampire swallowed hard, looking to her clawed hands with a shaking breath. “Can we try up here again?” she asked with fingers placed on Amy’s clavicle. It didn’t inspire confidence when they were moved an inch or two.
“Remember to pace yourself. Don’t bite too deep, just let the blood come to you,” she instructed as she brought Lucy’s head closer with a firm hand. The vampire blushed with awkwardness as she felt her stomach turn and the familiar revulsion begin to worm its way into her chest. Placing a hand on Amy’s other shoulder to support herself, she pushed against her instincts and sank her fangs into her donor’s neck.
She felt the blood touch her tongue with disgust, paralyzing her jaws through sheer force of will alone. The frantic heartbeat, the shame fought against her natural need. Lucy’s claws curled against the other woman, who began to shift uncertainly. But with every ounce of her willpower, she stayed. She drank. She felt it restoring her as she trembled between self-loathing and elation. Then, mercifully, it receded. The pain passed like a cloud over the sun. She felt a dam break within her, tears flowing freely as she finally felt relief. A genuine act of compassion. Freely offered and accepted. Whatever had been stripped away from her that night Kariwase attacked boiled the dark water within her. Water that had been threatening to become its own black lake.
Sated, she gingerly removed her fangs and fell against the bridge railing. Her legs had lost all their strength, a victory rush sending even her breath from her. She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her dressing gown, shaking with something between laughing and sobbing.
Amy gripped her shoulder, other hand rummaging in her satchel for the ointment or whatever it was that healed her. The donor took out a jar of green paste, opening it with a grimace at the smell. Lucy, whose nose was pelted by the acrid stench, gagged slightly before finding her feet and taking the jar. With careful fingers she applied it to the wounds, mouth dry as she saw the untidy track marks. Too many fangs. It was only the first step.
“I need to fix the damage,” Lucy explained as she was asked why she had to do it. She spoke with a disbelieving voice, as if she’d done something impossible. But, again, literally the primary thing vampires were known for. “I’m not her” she said with a desperate smile. “I’m not going to be like her. Not going to be like him.” She was emphatic, calming herself as she repeated the words as a mantra. She had control. She wouldn’t be buried by guilt or shame.
“You’re not gonna have a panic attack every time, are you? Only my neck can’t take it,” Amy asked with a cheeky grin. It extracted a giggle from the Brit, who folded her arms against the cold. Her eyes were still reddened with tears, unable to stop at that point.
“Let’s go back to the hotel. I need a rest” Lucy suggested, thumbing her eye. Her donor nodded, draping an arm over her shoulders to quiet the quivering mess she’d become. What an absolute state to drop on a stranger. It was absurd, silly and unprofessional. But, in retrospect, it had been good for her. One person who didn’t care about her high and mighty friends. Who just saw her.
The walk back to the hotel was quiet, though not uncomfortable. Both of them had their own thoughts to manage, it was clear as Lucy looked at Amy’s expression. In her view, she should have felt proud. Doing a thankless but vital task. Giving vampires, ironically, a humane way to live. She wondered where the idea had come from. To trust humans. Definitely not Ansa, she knew that much.
The Brit’s good mood only soured once she saw two familiar faces in the crowd. The twins, one behind and one on the other side of the street. Ranjit and Amara. With a murmured word, she informed her donor. Then ordered her to go home and lock the door. It wasn’t likely they cared about Amy, but she’d been burned for lack of caution before.
“It’s alright. We’re not alone,” she answered in an undertone. She kept walking, casually thumbing through her phone as if nothing were wrong. Lucy tried her best to find any trace of an ally. With none presenting themselves, she grew more uneasy as Amy directed them down a tight alley. The quiet questions of conspiracy grew louder in the journalist’s thoughts as she followed the donor, both coming to an abrupt halt as the twins blocked off both sides. Ranjit even tried whistling ominously, as if he were in any way intimidating. Lucy knew he still had panic attacks in new places without his sister.
“This better have been intentional,” she growled to her companion. The human gave her a flat look, tilting her phone as if showing the vampire a funny post. An unsent text to Safiya read simply ‘keep them talking. They like you?’ Lucy doubted that having almost shot Amara’s ear off during training. Once again, she was British. Far more comfortable with a knife. But whatever, she’d give it a go.
“Sigrun’s been looking all over the city for you,” Ranjit called from behind them. He likely expected them to freeze, only to find Lucy staring him down with an unimpressed look. “She wants a word. Has a proposition for you.”
“You cannot fathom how uninterested I am in anything Sigrun has to say. Or Ansa, if you’re thinking of namedropping her next,” Lucy replied tartly. It wasn’t hard to channel the frustration and sorrow she actually felt toward her performance.
“It’s not a request” Amara informed them with a firm voice, her thumb clicking the hammer of a gun.
“If you fire a gun in the middle of New Orleans, even after a riot, the police are going to come.” Lucy looked about to see whether her argument had struck. The two regarded her as if it was a weak threat. Dear god they were thick. “Y’know, the guys wrapped around Cavendish’s little finger?” she elaborated with an expectant expression. It finally twigged for the pair, Amara putting her gun away. Lucy half expected it to still be cocked.
“Alright then. It’ll be more painful though,” Amara smirked as she cracked her knuckles. Ranjit likewise did his best impersonation of someone who could hold a candle to Sigrun. Though she was younger she was…. No. She wasn’t going to lean on that. Or really admit it. Though it did give her an idea. Keep them talking, after all.
“I’m not sure you know how painful this could get,” Lucy commented in her lightest tone. She wasn’t intimidating and she knew it. But she was a journalist. She knew full well nothing was scarier than the facts. “I’m going to give you something I never got. A choice” she spoke with deadly calm, fighting against her frantic heart. “Option one. You can leave me alone and hope I see fit to give Fulcrum the time of day. Option two, you can try to take me to her against my will. I’ll resist, obviously and probably lose. Then I’ll reject Sigrun’s proposition out of spite if nothing else. And you two geniuses end up in a worse spot than now,” she outlined with her best impression of a slick saleswoman. She could practically feel the hand of Cavendish guiding her as she spoke. “Oh and of course let’s not forget the worst outcome for you two. I get mad. See, I might not be much now but thing about me is I have time. Lots and lots of time. Two centuries, three centuries even, you two will be the same and I’ll be a monster. And that’s assuming I don’t guilt-trip Sulis into helping. You’ll be living with that over your heads for a long time,” she pretended to think aloud, realising she had a few tricks of her own. Not recently though. She’d known about the Sulis card since she’d seen the sireless’ gaunt face and depression haircut. And based on the crumbling confidence in Ranjit’s eyes, it seemed to be working. “After screwing up with Guy’s sireling, I think you two owe me. Don’t you?” She struck the final nail in the coffin of Ranjit’s confidence. He looked to his sister for reassurance.
“We’re Fulcrum! You think she’s going to fight us all just over one lost punch up?” Amara reasoned loudly just as Amy prodded her in the back. Lucy followed her eyes, looking up to see a feminine figure slinking like a tiger from the rooftops. A smile began to form on her features.
“No dice, Lucy. We’ll make it quick,” Ranjit hedged as he lifted his fists.
A grunt behind Lucy told her that Amara had met their saviour. Without waiting to see if it was the sane thing to do, she leapt on Ranjit with a feral snarl.
His broken confidence caused him to falter for a second as she fell upon him, cursing and spitting all the while as her claws raked through his coat and into the steel plates beneath. Like a particularly ornery otter, she began to bash the urchin against the ground to break him open. He reached for his own gun, managing to pull it free of the holster before Lucy broke his arm with a crushing stomp. He cried for his sister as he reared up, winding the Brit with a punch. His sister was beyond help, Safiya searching her pocket for something. Most likely a cursed knife, if Sam and Sulis were indicative. She leapt onto Ranjit’s back, locking her elbow around his throat and struggling to hold him from helping Amara. Amy, who’d sensibly hidden in a doorway while the vampires fought, whipped out a knife similar to the one Kariwase had used. Sensing her intent, Lucy held Ranjit still as she rammed it to the hilt into his chest. He gasped as the breath left his body, his struggles growing weaker as whatever the knife was coated in began to take effect. Once he was safely unconscious, Lucy laid him down to see Safiya checking her donor over.
“That was very foolish,” the older vampire admonished Lucy. She then turned to Amy, gripping her shoulder. “You were very brave. But also foolish. Don’t follow strange vampires into the night.”
“You’re a strange vampire” Amy replied tartly before removing her dagger from Ranjit’s breast. “Will they be alright?”
“She will be unconscious for an hour, him probably twenty minutes” Safiya answered with an estimator’s eye. She promptly began frogmarching the two toward the hotel. She removed her hoodie, pulling it over Lucy’s head. It wasn’t to keep the vampire warm. The date night dress she wore showed the tattoos all sireless possessed. The marks of Tallas. Anyone strong enough to challenge her was smart enough to avoid her. She mithered after the pair as they walked, running her fingers over Lucy’s face and ribs to make sure nothing was broken. A few fractures, probably. Ranjit wasn’t strong but he was trained.
As they neared the hotel, Safiya cursed under her breath and began ushering the pair into the service alley. Lucy looked toward the entrance with narrowed eyes and noticed a forlorn looking Livia, glass of wine held in her hand as she checked her phone. An odd place to catch up on the drama, but she was hardly going to judge. It was only when the older vampire made a comment about the amount of effort it all was that Lucy removed the hand on her shoulder. She looked down and sighed.
“I’m feeling brave” Lucy smiled toward Amy, who returned the expression. Safiya narrowed her eyes, following along as the Brit began a determined trek toward the Roman. Livia looked up to see who was power walking so close to her and allowed surprise to colour her expression briefly. The mousy vampire looked at the wine with an amused gleam. “I’m pretty sure you’d get that colder in your rooms.”
“I’m waiting” Livia answered simply without looking up from her phone. Safiya wished her a good evening as she passed, leaving the young vampire alone once again. Lucy couldn’t help but ask for what. Had something else gone wrong? “For whom. And who else would it be? My wayward wife” she sighed, eyes raking the pavement either side of them as if out of habit. It had been a while since Sulis had shown herself. It was veering away from R&R and toward worrying. “At first, I expected her to show up like before. Sleeping in a closet or under a park bench. But it’s been weeks. What if…” she trailed off, trying to compose herself. She failed. “What if she’s gone again? And doesn’t come back?” Her voice broke as she said it. Lucy felt her heart tear in two, enfolding the other woman in a bear hug.
“Of course she’ll come back, she always does. Too irritating not to,” she joked with a gentle voice. Her hand rubbed the sobbing woman’s back as she regained some control. “And when she does, I’m going to kick her arse. For you, for Francheska, for Auset. And a little bit for me,” Lucy offered, her smile hopefully at least a little bolstering. Livia gave her a brave attempt at least.
After a few more moments of consolation, Livia’s phone rang. Both of them turned their eyes toward it almost magnetically as Auset’s picture appeared on the screen. The blonde woman answered, her expression going from curious to concerned to haunted as her wife talked. Sigrun had left Ansa to brood. Only for that brooding to turn to desperation. The ancient witch had bound Tallas.
“We don’t have time to find Lucy,” Auset said firmly. “We need Ansa to release Tallas before our love needs her,” she babbled with panic driving her voice a half octave higher. Livia gave the British newfang a look before turning the phone towards her.
The conflict was momentary. She bit her lip, taking the phone like it was a live cobra.
“Hi Auset, we’re on our way,” she informed the eldest wife in a small voice. “I hear Ansa’s been up to something stupid.”
