Discoveries in Death
Part One
Éclair sat just outside the door to her bathroom. The shower was on hot enough that she could see and smell the faint steam in the doorway. She dared not look inside, however, since Lumière was in the shower cleaning up. They didn't stay long in bed. Both were caked in dry mud and even their clothes were still damp from the heavy storms of the previous night. Éclair insisted that Lumière use the shower first and that she would use her parent's shower. But leaving the room proved quite difficult.
She couldn't explain it. The words wouldn't come to describe the sensation, the feeling as she moved away from her partner. The word crossed Éclair's lips like a flower petal covered by the finest of dew on a warm spring day. Her heart swelled with pride despite not knowing anything about Lumière. What she did feel was a need to protect, to stay close to the girl, and a desire to stare into those bright rubies which were her eyes. Éclair felt the warmth in her cheeks at the last thought. This is what it meant to be a partner, it seemed.
Neither said a word when Éclair took up the spot on the floor, mere feet away from the shower (only the wall separated the two). An easy silence overtook where there would be a need to converse. Éclair leaned her head back and listened, with her newly acquired keen hearing, to all the sounds her partner was making in the shower. How the water splashed against her skin, the way she wrung her hair out every few minutes, and the small pats of her feet on the porcelain floor of the shower. She began to imagine how the girl would look in the shower; the image caused a blush beyond any she'd ever felt before.
“How do you know we're partners?” Éclair blurted the question out as a distraction and hoped the other girl wouldn't think her rude.
From within the bathroom she could hear Lumière's voice, assertive but girlish, soft but crisp, and with an accent she couldn't place, “I'm not exactly certain. Honestly, my first instinct was based on the fact that I couldn't hear your thoughts. But...” She trailed off.
“You couldn't hear my thoughts? What does that mean?”
There was a lull followed by a hesitant answer, “It's... a special power of mine. Surely you've heard that vampires can sometimes have powers. Most of it depends on what you're capable of as a human.”
Éclair leaned forward from the wall. The conversation had her curious now. “So because you can't read my thoughts you think I'm your partner? Is that the only reason?”
She could almost here the vampire's head shake, “That is not the only reason. You found me, am I right?” There was a confirming grunt from Éclair. “At the time you found me I was on the verge of dying. Can I assume that you know about the curse?”
“I know... some.”
Lumière turned off the water and stepped out. She wrapped the large towel that was left for her around her body and peaked her dripping head out the door. Éclair looked up at her with questioning eyes. She smiled down at the teen, “Perhaps I can fill in those gaps later with what I know?”
The redhead merely nodded as she stared up at the now cleaned Lumière. Before she could really take the other girl in she moved back into the bathroom to dry her hair and dress. Éclair closed her eyes replaying the image of the pale skin glistening with water, hair so damp it looked blue, and the girl's slender arms and legs that seemed just the right size. She seemed blissfully unaware of the smile that had crept up onto her lips.
“The point is that I was dying from the curse. Then it suddenly stopped and I awoke to find you. I'm not dead—not permanently at least, so therefore I have to conclude that you're my partner. Plus...” her voice went quiet, almost shy, “there's this feeling I have when I'm around you. Something like warmth, being content, complete and what not. When you tried to leave earlier to give me time to shower it was as if there were an invisible set of ropes between us and I felt myself wanting to follow you.”
Éclair swallowed and looked down at the carpet. “I felt it, too.” Her voice was equally quiet. The two were experiencing something far greater than they had ever felt and the weight was finally coming crashing down. So heavy, so large were these feelings, the scope of them went beyond what could be readily understood and felt. Éclair dared not breathe. The realization that this girl felt the same way she did was something like the happiest of happiness and the scariest of fears. Inside the bathroom Lumière also dared not move as she tried to sort through the same feelings and realizations.
“Well,” the redhead dared to speak. Her throat felt constrictive. “You must be my partner, then. Because the same thing was happening to me. But now I seem to be fine, too.” She forced a smile and picked off some dried dirt from her shorts.
A shuffling of sound echoed from the bathroom and out came Lumière fully dressed. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and was still damp from the shower. She wore the sweatshirt and jeans that Éclair had set out for her. Since both belonged to Éclair they were baggy on the vampire's small frame. “Do you have a belt?”
Éclair noticed that the girl was holding up her jeans with one hand and laughed softly. “Of course, sorry.” She pushed herself to her feet and went to the closet. “Maybe tomorrow I can go into town and get you clothes that actually fit?”
“I still don't know your name,” Lumière sat herself down on the bed. It lay barren of it's top blanket. Said blanket was crumpled in the hamper with the laundry seeing how it was soaked with mud from the girls. She stretched her legs out in front of her and her stark white feet seemed odd sticking out of the dark jeans. She wiggled her toes and gave them a curious glance.
Éclair came back to the bed with the belt, “Éclair. Éclair Muse.”
Those ruby red eyes caught the werewolf like a deer in headlights and she felt speechless as she held out the belt. Lumière smiled and touched the hand the belt was in. She wrapped her fingers around the mud caked wrist and proceeded to slide them down the top side, over the knuckles and slowly down the fingers. To say the energy in the room was palpable was barely skimming the surface of description.
Hours must have passed in the few seconds of passing the belt, and as Lumière finally took the black leather in her own hand, she said, “Éclair. I think I like it very much.” She slid off the bed to her feet. Mere inches divided the height between the two girls as well as the space between them. “No, I'm certain I love it. It carries a sort of elegance with it. It means flash in French, did you know?”
Éclair nodded that she did indeed know. She watched for a moment as Lumière stepped back and proceeded to slip the belt through the loops in the jeans. Feeling uncomfortable staring at a girl she barely knew the werewolf turned and headed to her closet and drawers. She gathered an armful of clean clothes. “I guess it's my turn to clean up.” At the doorway to the bathroom she glanced over her shoulder.
Lumière had finished buckling her belt and was watching the redhead. She smiled. “I will wait here.”
Four simple words ushered in a strong sense of relief and Éclair entered the bathroom and half closed the door for some privacy. She stripped off the muddy clothes and entered the shower. Luckily there was plenty of hot water left.
Back in the room Lumière sat down at the computer and went straight for the web browser. Once she heard the water running she began to talk to Éclair in a normal toned voice as though the teen was in the room with her. “How long have you been a werewolf?”
Inside the bathroom Éclair half shouted her answer, “Not very long. A few days, actually.” The words were latent with embarrassment at the admission.
“You don't have to shout,” Lumière commented while she went through a portfolio of stocks, “I have almost as good as hearing as you do.” She smiled ruefully and added, “I suppose we're two of a kind, you and I.”
“Huh?”
Lumière began to repeat herself but was cut off.
“No, no, I heard you. But I don't understand what you mean. Two of a kind?”
The vampire frowned and leaned back in the computer chair. “Vampire and werewolf as partners. Statistically we're probably not the first couple, but, it does seem to be quite a taboo. Hasn't your maker explained that to you?”
“I don't know my maker,” came the small voice in the shower.
Lumière gave the half closed door to the bathroom a long hard look. “How can you not know your maker? Is that not her I sense downstairs?”
“No, that's Caprice, a werewolf from California. She was traveling to Canada and followed my scent here.”
“Was she trying to make you hers?”
“Huh? No, I mean, well, she... not hers in particular. She was... you know... looking for a partner and all... but we're not, I mean.” Éclair grumbled to herself and trailed off. She didn't know why answering that was so difficult.
Lumière smiled and turned back to the computer. She worked diligently for several minutes while Éclair showered in silence. A change to her schedule and suddenly it meant a change to all of her assets. It was a good idea she had not yet donated all the money. Seemed she would need it now. No, not just for herself, now for her and Éclair. The young vampire felt a thrill as she deposited a large amount in a local Wisconsin bank. The loneliness that once haunted her entire existence was erased in the flash of a storm and replaced with the warmest, kindest person that anyone could ask for. So what if she was a werewolf?
“How old are you?”
Lumière paused in her actions as she searched for the answer. How long had it been? She licked her lips. “I'm 51, including my human years.”
“WHAT!?”
The small girl winced at the shriek. Inside the bathroom the water turned off and the sound of shuffling and towel drying shuffled loudly into Lumière's ears. She sighed and opened her email.
“But, but, Caprice said that vampires only live a few years beyond... I mean... you don't look that old! You look really good for your age!” The redhead came bursting through the door, her hair wrapped in a towel, and wearing a long skirt and tank top. Her skin was flushed a ruddy pink from the hot water, but at least it was clean and free of all that mud.
The vampire grinned as she closed down the web browser, “I'm an exception to the rule. And to be certain, my body is that of 15—since that's how old I was when I was changed.”
Éclair stared down at her with purple eyes swimming in disbelief and confusion. Her face contorted into several shapes before resting on a despairing frown. “So you've been alone this entire time?”
Lumière shook her head and rose to her feet. She gestured for Éclair to sit on the bed, which the girl did without much thought. Lumière climbed behind her and unwrapped the towel from the red hair. She proceeded to dry the hair slowly and with great care. “I had a... friend for the first few years. He hoped I was his partner; that was the reason he made me. But he still succumbed to death. For whatever reason I just kept living on.”
Éclair had closed her eyes and leaned into the other girl's touch as though it were nothing but heaven and angels. She murmured her reply, “But after that you've been by yourself?” When Lumière murmured a yes the redhead said, “I get the loneliness, you know? My parents are gone a lot and we're always moving... Oh wow. You're older than my parents, you know? I feel like I should refer to you as Grandma or something similar. Maybe Miss Lumière?” The two laughed lightly. “Do you have a last name?”
“I did, once. Now I have many last names to keep up with the passing of time and my lack of aging,” she worked the dampness from Éclair's hair as though it were precious gold, “I am simply Lumière to those who know me best. I would like you to call me that, as well.”
The redhead leaned back, giving Lumière a slight surprise as she felt the other girl's head resting against her chest. Éclair looked up and gave a wink. “Got it, partner!”
The vampire returned the other girl's grin and without thinking, leaned in and kissed her forehead. She lifted her head, smiling at the blush dancing across the peach skin of the werewolf. For some reason the action made Lumière laugh and before Éclair could respond she pushed her head back in the upright position to finish drying. Were all first meetings of partners so warm and fuzzy?
Part Two
“No! I mean... maybe! I've never heard of such a thing!” Caprice crossed her arms in front of her and turned her head to the side. Éclair was reminded of how the other werewolf used this same gesture and look when she had made up her mind to follow the redhead to her school. Stubborn wasn't just a word for this woman, it was a lifestyle.
Lumière sat at a stool near the kitchen counter. She had one leg crossed over the other and her hands were folded neatly into her lap. To Éclair it seemed like she had a life-like statue in her kitchen. Even things made of stone moved more than the young (in appearance) vampire did. The girl's red eyes gave away the signs of life that were behind the facade. She was studying Caprice closely or looking about the room as if trying to memorize everything about it.
Éclair couldn't help but find her most minute movements mesmerizing. She shook her head and gave a small sigh. She had to stop doing this. If she continued to focus so much on the azure haired girl... Azure: that's the color she decided on for Lumière's hair. Her mother had shown it to her once in a book full of colors; they were choosing something for an art museum back in Washington. She liked the color very much, but she decided she liked Lumière's better. It had a hint of aqua that made each strand just as personified as the next.
There she was doing it again.
“Éclair, you can't come with me anymore, I hope you know.”
Éclair blinked her eyes and turned her head towards Caprice. “What?” she was confused as to what the other werewolf meant but she also felt hurt in the words. Even if she didn't know the woman very well the idea of being disliked for no reason was certainly not a happy one.
The brunette pursed her lips and turned her back on both Éclair and Lumière. “To think: a vampire and a werewolf are partners. The idea is revolting to say the least! And to think I saved that dirty bloodsucker!”
Éclair was awash with anger. She stepped into the kitchen—unconsciously between Lumière and Caprice. “How can you say that?! Just before you saved her, I was on the verge of dying. What if I had died because she was dead too? Would that be okay?”
Caprice became silent. Her body was stiff and for some reason Éclair could sense the alertness in the other werewolf's movements as well. The awareness of moving between the two women gave the redhead a sense of discomfort. She hoped no one would become violent. Lumière hadn't spoken one word since coming downstairs, either, which didn't help the situation. (Or maybe it did?)
A feeble bark pierced tense air causing Éclair to turn towards the couch were Donner lay. His front legs and head were bandaged but the blood had managed to seep through the fabric. It was he who kept the blonde haired vampire from striking Éclair. She recalled how the spike of wood came flying down and a flash of black came between the would-be weapon and herself. Donner had disobeyed and returned to help his mistress.
He knocked the vampire on his back and tore a large chunk of flesh from the man's arm. Éclair was almost too shocked to move. All the blood, the opened flesh, and the smell made her feel queasy and sick to the stomach. The vampire got to his feet and as Donner pounced again he swung the wood at the border collie. Donner fell with a splat into the mud and before he was able to rise back onto his feet the vampire was bringing the wooden spike down like he had with Éclair.
Éclair tried to get to her feet but her suddenly leaden body slowed the movements. She thought for certain that the dog would be killed but in the last second a great beast came from the forest and slammed into the vampire with such force that it was like the blasting of a building. The spike came down only on Donner's ear, thankfully.
Caprice had turned into a wolf and apparently had chased down another vampire and killed her. The blood of the fight was evident on her muzzle and when the male vampire smelled it he cried out and then, to Éclair's amazement, fled into the forest. Caprice looked as if she were going to follow but she stopped and changed back into human. Éclair had Lumière in her arms and Caprice had Donner and the two walked back in silence to the house.
It wasn't until they arrived back at the house that Caprice really noticed what Lumière actually was. The disapproval was evident in her eyes but, Éclair assumed, the brunette took notice of her friend's regained health and probably let it slip for the night.
And now here they were: Lumière finally healthy, Caprice speaking from what was probably on her mind the previous night, and poor Donner recuperating from his wounds. Éclair made to move towards the dog but was cut off by Lumière who had slid down from the stool and walked towards the couch first. She smiled at Donner and sat down on the free cushion next to him. The redhead gazed with a hint of awe as the border collie turned his head to the girl at his side.
For a brief moment he did not know what to do. Lumière held her hand up to his muzzle. She smiled as he sniffed and then licked the pale hand. The dog panted and laid his head back down. Lumière scratched his head and pet his back all the while uttering soothing, quiet words to him and calling him a wonderful and valiant knight.
Caprice had moved to Lumière's side to watch the actions. The teen watched her out of the corner of her eye. Torn and conflicted might be the best words to describe the brunette's face. Éclair felt a tint of guilt. She had not really considered that the woman might actually be struggling with her feelings and with what she has been told to feel.
“I understand, you know?”
There was an exchange between confusion and surprise. Éclair smiled.
“Vampires, werewolves, mortal enemies huh? But you know, I'm only 16. Even if I'm a werewolf now it's not like I had any part in the decisions of the past. I'm not a very intelligent person so bare with me, but, I think of it in terms of low-cut jeans.” Caprice was at a loss for words while Éclair talked. “I mean, who decided that this fashion was in? I wasn't part of the decision and if I had been I would have explained that a girl with my figure doesn't exactly wear those jeans well.” Éclair grabbed her stomach and sides through her tank top while she talked, “This figure isn't exactly perfect and I don't really want people seeing how fat my belly is becoming.”
Caprice snorted and turned her head away again, “So, what are you trying to say?”
“Essentially what I'm saying is that just because everyone else believes that one thing is good for all, it doesn't mean that we can't disagree.” Éclair gave a small shrug and threw her hands up in the air. “But what do I know, really? I'm only 16, well, nearly 17.” She covered her mouth as her eyes widened in surprise, “Oh my god! I'll always be just 16!”
Next to her the brunette turned back with a sigh. She shook her head and moved to take a seat on the kitchen stool. A small smile crept onto her lips as though a snail were making it happen. Finally she laughed and stretched her arms in front of her. “Alright, alright, I get it!” Caprice glanced towards Lumière who returned the glance with a small nod. “Yeah, yeah. You're that girl's partner. You know Éclair, you're one lucky son of a gun. To think of the luck of finding your partner in only a few days of being turned. Probably set a record.”
Éclair smirked and dropped into the arm chair. She rubbed her cheeks and sank into the cushions. So much had happened in the last several days and much of it was beginning to catch up to her in the form of mind exhaustion.
“But you know, Éclair, you do age.”
The redhead stopped her movements and peeked around the side of the chair at Caprice. “What do you mean I age? I thought vampires and werewolves were immortal when they found their partners?”
Caprice rolled her eyes and explained, “You have so much to learn, really. Werewolves are part human and part wolf. There is no demon in them, even if they are made by demons. The magic is what extends their lives. I think, on average, most werewolves live to about 500 or around there. They age just like humans.” She leaned an elbow on the counter. “But a nice thing about being part human and wolf is that we can also breed. Not that you'll probably be interested in any of that seeing as how your partner is a female, vampire on top of that.”
Lumière, who had not uttered a single word since coming downstairs, chose this moment to speak, “According to statistical data werewolves actually live to be exactly 451 years old—assuming they are not killed or have died from an accident. Those who worked the figures believe this was because the vampire who wove the magic had an interesting sense of humor. 4 + 5 + 1 equals 10. 10 is associated with rebirth. And 451 years would have been plenty of time for a werewolf to serve his or her master.”
Before Éclair could comment Caprice launched in. The bitter, forced anger seethed down through her words without being absorbed or fully believed. “Serving masters huh? Do you view Éclair as someone who will serve you? Just because you two are partners doesn't mean you can treat her as such.”
The redhead pinched the bridge of her nose. Lumière, however, responded with a calm and even tone of someone who truly has lived a number of years.
“I understand your desire to protect your friend. Were I in your shoes I would no doubt feel the same way. But Éclair's connection with me is something the two of us will work out. As you fully well know we're partners and we do need each other.”
Éclair searched out those ruby red eyes and felt the connection Lumière was talking about. Whatever it was, whatever would come, she presumed it would take the force of a thousand gods to break. Their eyes parted and Lumière resumed her soothing pets of Donner.
“Fine, fine. You know, it's not even the vampire/werewolf thing that bothers me so much. I thought it was when I found out last night. But I the more I thought about it,” Caprice had moved into the living area while she spoke and took a seat on the cushioned foot stool at the opposite end of the couch from Lumière, “the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was just shocked.”
“Shocked?” Éclair threw a curious look to the brunette.
Caprice nodded. “Yes, shocked. Do you know I've been a werewolf now for over ten years and during that time I've talked to a lot of other werewolves. My maker and I also talked a lot about what it meant to be a werewolf. Course, he only made me because he wanted to have my babies... but after two black eyes and a kick to the balls he stopped that nonsense.”
Éclair chuckled which made the brunette grin.
“Yeah yeah, what can I say? So any how, remember I told you, Éclair, that werewolves know by kissing because it's all about taste for us?” The redhead blushed slightly. She glanced over at Lumière who made no expression about the news. The two hadn't kissed, yet. But she trusted the girl when she said the two were partners. Nothing ever felt more certain in her life. Still...
“Even with kissing it's still not simple,” Caprice continued. She seemed unaware of Éclair's bad poker face. “The taste may be right, the feelings may hint, but it can take months, years for the bond to truly form. You two,” she waved at Éclair and Lumière, “you two are acting like it's perfect. Like the bond is already formed and that you really DO know you're each other's true love. I mean, c'mon, what are the chances of that?”
The brunette turned to Lumière and addressed her for the first time, “I don't trust you. I'm not going to lie. Vampires are tricksters. They have powers and are not below using anything to their means. Who's to say that you aren't manipulating Éclair, heck, maybe even myself into thinking that you are her partner, but in reality, you're simply using us to survive? I don't like it. It doesn't follow the stories. And not to mention I've actually seen people find their partner's twice in my lifetime and neither resembled this.”
Éclair studied the carpet. She felt unable to look Lumière in her eyes this time. She couldn't doubt the powerful feelings that erupted between her and the short vampire but what if it was all fake? Lumière had admitted to being able to read people's minds and alluded she could do more. If it were all fake, all of it... she would be... She couldn't finish the thought. Her heart had sunk deeply in her chest as if it were laden with heavy boulders.
“You're right.” Lumière lifted her eyes from Donner to stare directly into Caprice's shimmering aqua eyes. “It doesn't follow any of the vampires and their partners I've witnessed over my lifetime. But then, I'm not a normal vampire. Nor is Éclair a normal werewolf. If it is true that she was succumbing to the curse so early while I managed to defy it for several decades then certainly our meeting... our finding one another would not be a normal and simple tale like all the others.”
Caprice bit her lower lip. Éclair lifted her head at the vampire's words. What was she to know what was true and what was made up at this point? But she knew for certain that something felt real. Éclair began to speak, “Normal or not normal... I'm not going to pretend as if the speed of things, let alone their nature, doesn't bother me. Because they really do.” A tear escaped the redhead's eye. She watched Lumière try to move towards her from the couch but waved her back down. The brunette shifted on her seat.
“I mean, shit, here I am a normal teenager one moment and the next I'm some supernatural being who's able to shape shift into a wolf. Vampires are fighting in my back yard and I shared a bed with one last night. I feel like this is some crazy dream and at any moment I'll wake up.” More tears began falling down her cheeks as the last several day's events caught up with her in one single moment.
Unable to stand it any longer Lumière came to her side with a tissue in her hand. Éclair let out a thanks in the form of a small laugh and proceeded to wipe her tears away. She tried to apologize but was stopped by both women. There were several moments of quiet as the redhead collected herself. Lumière stayed on her knees in front of the chair where the teen sat.
Éclair took a deep breath, pushing on, “But you know, even if the world is falling apart around me, when I woke up this afternoon and saw your eyes,” her gaze became fixed on Lumière, “When I saw them I could only think, wow, this is it. I feel like I've been apart from you for lifetimes, but now, now I'm with you and that's all that matters.” A lopsided smile fell on her face and she shook her head, “I don't even feel like I'm saying it right. I wish I'd paid more attention in my literature courses.”
“I think you said it rather elegantly.” Lumière had taken Éclair's hands inside her own and was squeezing them tightly, but not the point of pain. Both felt secure and content.
“Yeah yeah yeah, that's great, okay, fine. You pass the test, now let's move on to other things before you start making out right here in the living room,” an annoyed Caprice butted in waving her hands wildly trying to break the two women from their private reverie. Éclair blushed. She hadn't meant to go that far with the other werewolf still in the room. For Lumière's part, she merely leaned back but kept one of her hands around Éclair's.
The redhead took a deep breath and then asked, “Move on to what other things?”
Caprice rolled her eyes. “Like the fact that I let a vampire go last night. He'll die soon since I probably killed his partner, but that doesn't mean he won't be going to others and telling them what happened.” She moved her gaze to Lumière again. “Why was he after you?”
Lumière licked her lips and uttered one single word, “Power.”
Part Three
In another part of the world...
Inside a dingy bar only fit for the underbelly of society—the parts of society that shun the sunlight (although not necessarily because it hurts them) but because they prefer the nightlife. The booze, the sex, the darkness that consumes their thoughts and makes them forget about the realities of living in such a harsh world, three men sat in a corner speaking in frank tones and imagery. Anyone over hearing the conversation would have not much left to the imagination but then also wouldn't have much left in the way of life. Therefore the regulars of this establishment stayed as far away as possible from the three gentlemen (if you could call them that). Rather to play ignorant and live another day than to show that you like sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong and getting it, and possibly man other body parts, bitten off.
The largest of the men had skin as dark as night but hair as white as day. His muscular frame was offset by the fact that he kept his hair pulled back into a ponytail and his eyebrows trimmed into a sharp curve. Nevertheless he was not a man to be messed with. Whether he wore the black, skin tight clothes as an expression of a melancholy of darker times or because of a severe lack of fashion sense it mattered very little. The clothes showed off his muscular physique similar to that of Arnold Schwarzenegger, on steroids.
His partner, the smallest of the three standing only at five feet, could not be more opposite if he tried. Where the larger man had onyx skin his complexion was like ivory. And where his partner was muscular he was as skinny as a twig. A twig with green leaf, permed hair and brown eyes. There was also a lack of fashion in his choice of dress: a one-piece white suit with orange stripes that cut off mid-thigh. A dress would look better on his form than that. Despite his size and feminine appearance he seemed to hold the commanding presence at the table and did most of the talking.
The third man sat away from the first two in the darkest part of the booth. His face could not be seen but his arm would occasionally stem out from the shadow and reveal the sleeve of a gray suit. If one stared long enough into the darkness they would see the ember of a cigarette brighten from time to time during the conversation.
“Listen, I'm not saying that I won't take the case. This sounds absolutely sadistically wonderful and I would love nothing more than to tear those two apart. My only question is how you know them and why not get someone in America, since, that's where they are. But yet here you are in Australia recruiting my efforts to kill them. Suspicious to say the least.”
“I've got my ways.”
“Meaning you're not human, nor are you a vampire, and you're definitely not a stinking werewolf. What does that leave? A-ou, what do you think that leaves?”
“Trees.”
“Hilarious.”
“I try.”
“Seriously though.”
“Seriously,” the large man sighed and spun the ash tray around on the rotted table, “I think it means that we're talking to a demon.”
“A demon,” his partner repeated.
“Is that your final answer?”
“Don't mess with us, Demon. You know we vamp's have never liked your kind, not since the days of Leif Ericson and the Golden Age in the Middle East. Times were pretty good back then, ya know?”
“I had nothing to do that that.”
“Like I give a koala's ass. I don't like that you're here at all, you know. And I don't like that you came to us. But I do respect that you came to us. It shows that you know the right people to get things done and done in a quick and fashionable way. But really, why should I care that some vamp and some wolf hooked up in America?” The green haired man reminisced, “America, damn, we haven't been there since Columbus landed, ain't that right A-ou?”
The large man simply nodded his head.
“Enough about past times though. Why do you want them dead?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Fine. What's in it for us?”
“I'll lift it.”
“Lift whaaat?”
“You know,” the shadowed gentleman left the last word hanging in the air, dangling like a fresh piece of meat or fruit depending on your tastes. Perhaps in theirs, like a pitcher of the world's tastiest blood.
“Yeah right, like you can do that. I've never heard of that.”
“Really? That's too bad. I guess I'll find someone el-”
The small man cut him off, “I didn't say I wouldn't do it. Jeesh, show a little skepticism and people start assuming the worst, am I right A-ou?” When A-ou made no movement the small man continued, “So we do this. You lift... it. Then what? We're day walkers again? We're gods on this pathetic planet? Is that the gist?”
“I could care less what happens to the pathetic human race. I have my reasons for wanting those two dead and that is what I want done.”
“So why not do it yourself?”
“I have limitations set on me.”
“Everyone's got limitations...”
“Plus, if they see who I am...”
“No one can be seen these days.”
“So will you do it?”
The smoky air around the three became just as still as the silence which pervaded the table. After several seconds the small man shrugged and responded, “Sure. They're as dead as all the people I've drained over the last thousand or so years. Do you have their information?”
A folder slid across the table towards the two mismatched partners.
“How will I contact you again?”
“When you finish the job, I will come. You have my word.”
“I like to shake on things.”
The dusky hand and gray sleeve slipped out of the shadows and slid easily into the smaller, ivory hand which was presented over the top of the table.
“That ain't so bad now, is it? I'll be expecting payment right away. Well A-ou, as they say, time to go walkabout.”