2021-05-13 - Thursday
09:05 ":The New Initiative"
#3C 305 East 110th Street,
East Harlem
Upside inside out
She's livin' la vida loca
She'll push and pull you down
Livin' la vida loca
Sandoval pulled the iPhone close to his face as Ricky Martin's hit song blared. The seal of the US Department of Defense appeared with the familiar "accept" and "decline" buttons. If he pressed decline there'd probably be a tactical extraction team here in 10 minutes. Ten more minutes of sleep, he briefly pondered before pressing "accept".
"You gave me a Code Seventy Seven over nine hours ago, Sandoval. I have not yet received your report."
"Good morning Lieutenant Colonel Dixon, I'm fine, how are you?"
"Don't be flippant with me, Sandoval, I put up with your civilian shit because I have to not because I like it. I don't need to remind you that the American taxpayers money isn't being budgeted to take out the NYPD's trash it is for the defense of this nation. I expect to see you in my lobby in 30, am I clear?"
"As the piercing pain in my temples, Colonel. I'll be there as close to that as I can manage."
And the bastard hung up on me in the middle of my being a smart-ass, too.
Twenty eight minutes later the cab pulled up to the unassuming drug-store next to the Manhattan Bridge. Sandoval paid the cabby and waited until the cab was out of site before walking around the back to where the chin-link fence surrounded several large metal boxes. The boxes were designed to resemble transformers (and they did) but when you approached to within a few feet of them a voice challenged, "Halt. Present identification."
There were no threats of action, but Sandoval had been briefed that if he failed to comply that he might disappear and never be heard from again. He suspected that a few homeless people probably disappeared here each month. He held up his badge in one hand and his Driver's License in the other. There was a pause before the command, "Proceed."
Sandoval stepped between the boxes and a panel slid aside silently. He stepped into the silver compartment. An LCD Panel with a hand-print appeared. "Hand print and voice authorization is required."
Pablo placed his palm over the image on the screen, "Lieutenant Detective Commander Pablo Sandoval, NYPD" he stated clearly.
"Recognition complete," the neutral voice droned and the elevator descended.
When the door opened it was into a slick underground lair. There were lots of metallic panels and huge smoky glass windows with obscure flashing lights. Even with the elevator, he had to descend a stairway that left him exposed to crossfire from sentries positioned in unassailable firing points arranged along the walls.
On the ground floor he was met by a soldier who saluted before handing him a badge on a lanyard that he was expected to wear. "CIVILIAN," it pronounced in easy-to-read block letters.
"You are two minutes late." the tall uniformed man said before turning to face him. Rafael Dixon was an imposing figure whose mere presence made men want to pay attention to him. He had charisma and leadership in his very fibre.
"I'd have been here sooner if I didn't have to drop my trousers and wag my penis five times to get inside," Sandoval said with distaste for all the security inspection and secrecy.
"When you deal with an enemy that can invade any one of your command you deal with everyone with suspicion," he said, "A possessed or enchanted soldier is physically identical to a un-possessed or un-enchanted one. There is no middle ground for this command. Zero security tolerance. We are not making the same mistakes that have been made in the past."
What did that mean, Sandoval wondered even as he shrugged, "Whatever. I am here to take my lumps and sign your report."
"Sandoval, I know you don't like the way I do things here, but the least you can do is be respectful of my position."
Pablo looked up into Rafael Dixon's face. His stance had not changed nor had his expression, but the tone of his voice was somewhat softer than the crisp military tone that made Sandoval want to bristle at everything he said.
"I'm sorry, Lt. Colonel, I had a very late night last night. And you rang me very early this morning."
The Colonel waved a hand and a soldier bearing a cup of coffee in a Department of Defense mug appeared. "Black if I remember correctly?"
Sandoval sank slowly into a chair at the briefing table, "Okay, you win, Dixon. Peace. Debrief me."
"Last night you had three sub-terrestrials sent to us. These have been identified as the Kaoshian sub-species. These are rare and generally solitary creatures. How did you manage to encounter three of them at once?"
"They were attacking a lone defender near my office. It was really chance that I happened to see them at all."
"All three of these creatures were eliminated with 9mm weapons?"
"Yes, myself, Neumann and Morgan from my team all fired on them."
"This unknown 'defender'?"
"Human, as far as I could tell. He was strong, agile and fast. I'd say there's a chance that he had some sort of training, but I didn't get a good look at him and he left once the Kaoshians were dead. I had to do some cleanup so I couldn't go after him. I am going to do some looking around, but I don't think you need to get involved in this yet."
"We decide that, Sandoval."
Sandoval exchanged a look with Dixon but didn't say anything.
"We appreciate the bodies, but Kaoshians are rare and getting rarer every day. We would have preferred a live specimen over dead ones, although you and your team managed to drop one post-transformation which is helpful."
A clipboard slid across a table and was followed by a pen. Sandoval signed the report and looked back at Dixon. "Are we done?"
"For now, Sandoval. The New Initiative doesn't like cowboys and superheroes. You aren't either and so we let your little SCU operation continue, but don't cross us or we will shut you down."
Sandoval set down his mug a little harder than neccesary and stood face-to-face with the Lt. Colonel, "Dixon, inside the city the NYPD is the law. We follow the book, but it is our book not yours. I don't mind playing nice-nice with you Feds but I am the first line of defense. You and your toys are my backup and not in command of the show."
Dixon stared at Sandoval before dismissing him with a snort and a curt nod. God, that guy irritates the hell out of me. I doubt there's anyone in the world he'd ever be nice to, Sandoval thought as he left the base.
11:22 "Balthazar's Building"
2021-05-13 11:22 - Thursday
Balthazar's Building
He tried to scream, but nothing came out. He just kept falling…
Falling….
Falling…
Logan’s eyes burst open as he woke. His heart was racing from the dream…nightmare…what was it? He tried to grasp at the images, but the dream just slipped away, his conscious mind unable to hold onto it. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Logan. Since he moved into Balthazar’s building he’d often wake in a panic. Did I always have these dreams?” he wondered, trying to think back to when he didn’t live there.
“Arghh” he grunted, his head instantly throbbing from a sudden migraine. What was I thinking about again? The pain quickly subsided, but he had lost his train of thought - ah well.
Pushing off the covers he stood, stretching out the morning kinks. The late morning sun was pouring through his floor to ceiling window, gently bathing him in it’s warm glow. Enjoying the feeling, Logan let out a big yawn as he began to examine his wounds from Tuesday’s battle. Wow, not bad at all. The cut on his shoulder was hardly visible and the burns were just about gone as well. Balthazar must have done some hocus pocus he thought, as he realized, embarrassingly enough, that he was standing in in front of the massive window, wearing only a pair of white briefs. Logan let out a chuckle, a second later Oh yeah, tinted windows. Relaxing again, he took another mighty stretch.
It was rare he got to sleep in, but the boss had been really sympathetic about the whole thing and gave him some time off to heal up. He didn’t even complain about the fact that Angus hadn’t given an answer to whatever it was written in the note. Although, Balthazar wasn’t too happy when he had mentioned the cops got involved. ‘Keep a low profile and avoid Sandoval,’ is what Romano had said. Funny, Logan had a good impression of the guy, given that he had saved his life and all, but he wasn’t going to question the boss.
He stripped off his underwear and headed for the shower when he heard the familiar beep of his cellphone.
‘Office’
It was one of Balthazar’s templated text messages which he would send when he needed something fast.
“Guess the shower is going to have to wait,” he sighed, hurrying to change into a fresh pair of clothes. “At least it’s the world’s shortest commute” he mused, as he opted for the stairs up to the 13th floor.
“THAT’S IT!? A Fucking name?”
Logan could hear Balthazar’s familiar voice booming from down the hall. Whoever was with him was really getting their ass chewed out.
“I paid you for info, not just a fucking name! The Eye of St Vigeous, what the hell am I supposed to do with that? Ah, Logan, there you are,” Balthazar said as his body guard quietly slipped into the room. “Rob, this is my associate Logan, Logan this is Rob. Rob here is a Verbati demon, a bit of a shape shifter now aren’t you Rob. Now I, knowing Rob has been a little down on his luck these days, was kind enough to give him a job. I fronted this little shit five thousand big ones to get me info on something of interest to me and all he comes back with is a fucking NAME!” he barked again, causing the man to flinch.
Logan could sense the fear emanating from the young demon. He looked no more than 18, maybe 19 years old, wearing a dark hoodie and big, loud high-top shoes. What are you playing at kid Logan thought dismally, knowing what was expected of him. He’d probably have to rough the guy up, if not worse.
“I..I..I told you, that’s all I could find,” Rob stammered, “I swear, I hit up all my contacts and asked around everywhere. “The Eye, it kept coming up.”
“YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT IT DOES!” Balthazar was practically frothing at the mouth now. “I am going to say this one more time, I. Want. My. Money. Back”.
The kid shuffled uncomfortably, but said nothing.
Balthazar’s voice suddenly became chillingly calm. “Do you have my money Rob?”
“N..No”
“Logan, did you hear that?” Balthazar said, looking at his body guard. He didn’t need to say more, Logan had got the message loud and clear.
“That’s bad news for you Rob,” Logan said flatly, as he planted a punch in the kid’s gut.
With a loud groan, Rob keeled over.
“You shouldn’t have spent my money Rob.” Balthazar was practically grinning, enjoying the spectacle in front of him. He really couldn’t care less about five thousand dollars, this was about principle. Do not fuck with Balthazar Romano.
Logan gripped onto the back of Rob’s neck and practically dragged him back up to his feet. He was about to lay into him again, when the kid shifted, keeping the same form, just making himself a bit smaller. Wriggling free, Rob wasted no time as he bolted out of the office and headed for the stairs.
“Teach him a lesson Logan, and bring me whatever money he has on him” Balthazar ordered, a wide smile now plastered on his face. He loved these little unpredictable moments in life.
Like a jungle cat, Logan sprung into action, racing down the hall and into the stairwell. The kid was fast, real fast and was already down a few flights. “Come on Rob, don’t make this harder than it has to be!” he called out, taking 3 steps at a time to catch up.
It wasn’t long before they both reached the ground floor. He had managed to gain a bit of ground, but the Verbati was still just out of reach.
“Fuck off! Just fuck off ok!” the kid called back, terrified that Logan would eventually catch up. Willing his legs faster, Rob charged through the lobby and out into the street. “MOVE! MOVE!” he screamed frantically, as he raced between flocks of people.
And I just wanted a shower Logan huffed, following Rob as the kid headed into Central Park.
11:35 "Balthazar's Troubles"
"Thanks, Frank," Balthazar Romano said as the glass of Alka-Selzer was set on his desk.
He had a throbbing headache. Ever since yesterday and that Boccelli kid and his fucked-up face things had seemed to be going steadily downhill. Between the Verbati fili di cagna* Rob giving him nothing to work with and Logan running into the maiale* Sandoval he had all the trouble he could handle right now.
Although things might be looking up on Saturday if everything worked out. He drank the fizzy drink and waited a second until the belches had stopped. Better, he thought, that settles things some. "Frank, have you heard from Tony yet?"
Frank shook his head, but didn't say anything. Frank was good muscle, but it unfortunately extended above his neck. "Did you call anyone?" Balthazar asked.
Frank pulled out his cell phone and started making calls. "I wish Logan was here," Balthazar murmured, "That boy can at least think."
Frank hung up the phone after a few minutes. "Tony's car was picked up in the Bronx and they got a body over there that ain't been identified yet," he said.
Then he stood there like a side of beef. "Well?" Balthazar asked.
"I should go and identify the body?" Frank said.
Balthazar waved his hands and Frank left. Then Balthazar looked through his desk for some aspirin. This was going to be a long day.
* Son of a dog
** pig
11:41 "Central Park"
Central Park - Thursday 13th May 2021 - 11:41
“Oh, that’s just… fucking, BRILLIANT!” Meredith snarled through gritted teeth, folding the newspaper up messily before giving up in angry frustration. She threw it back down on the bench where she’d found it and got to her feet. It seemed there’d been one hell of a disturbance outside Slainte on Tuesday night - some punk kids setting fire to a homeless guy and causing a three car pile-up - FOUR HOURS after she’d been there talking to that Cadee chick. She couldn’t believe her dumb ass luck!!! Four hours and she could have been the first on the scene - a story like that could have gotten her some serious column inches.
Muttering under her breath, Meredith resumed her run. Even twenty-four hours after her encounter with Jason she was still fuming, the rage churning beneath her flesh. Last night she’d been so furious she’d thrown a drink over a client when he’d tried to grab her ass during a lap dance. Charlie had given her a total bollocking and sent her home.
She was hoping a good long sweaty run would wear it out of her. It usually did. Just being on her own in the sunshine, breathing in the fresh air, nothing but the wind in the trees and the hard, solid ground beneath her feet… Meredith slid her headphones into place and switched on her Walkman, music made it even better and soon the rocking sound of Whitesnake was blaring in her ears.
“In the Still of the Night I hear the wolf howl, honey, sniffing around your door! In the Still of the Night I feel my heart beating heavy, telling me I gotta have more!”
She sang along, murmuring the words as she knew them and making them up where she didn’t. Each beat of the music punctuated with the contact of her feet against the path and the pumping action of her arms.
“I see the full moon rise, telling me what’s in store. My heart starts aching, my body started shaking and I can’t take no more, no, no…”
The stretching of her muscles felt good. Each time her sneakers impacted with the ground, it sent a tiny jolt of pure joy surging through her body, loosening those angry knots. One foot in front of the other, that’s all she had to think about. The repetition focused her mind so well, just as it always did, just like the cool breeze on her cheeks made her feel alive, made her feel like herself.
“Now I just wanna get close to you and taste your love so sweet, and I just wanna make love to you, feel your body heat…”
Meredith adjusted the volume on the old fashioned Walkman and the tinny hiss grew louder in the fuzzy orange headset. She’d had incredible luck to find it at Goodwill, and in such good condition, complete with headphones - two bucks, and the store guy chucked her in a couple of tapes too. Sure, it was the technological equivalent of banging away with a hammer and chisel, the sound was poor, it was clunky as hell and slapped against her ass as she jogged like a randy old uncle after one too many scotch and sodas, but it was hers and at least she didn’t have to worry about anyone trying to steal it when she wanted to do her stretches.
She was still messing with the volume control when a blur in grey sweats and hightops leapt through the trees. He was powering hard, coming downhill in a small avalanche of dirt and debris. Meredith gasped as he clipped her elbow, knocking her around - nearly knocking her off her feet actually. Without even so much as a pause or apology, he carried on running. Meredith pulled her headset down in anger, watching him while her temper boiled anew.
“Don’t worry about me!” she yelled after him, her good mood completely obliterated. “I’m just fine! Asshole!”
Gritting her teeth, Meredith turned, reaching for her headphones when another blur exploded from the trees. This one hit her solidly in the chest and so hard it felt like she’d been knocked over by a freight train. Meredith yelped as they both went down, the back of her head cracking on the path. “Mutherfucker!”
Logan was quick to his feet, about ready to explode into another dead sprint when he stole a glance at the person he had bulldozed through.
*Shit.* He had smashed straight into some girl and from the looks of it, he’d hit her pretty damn hard. *Shit, shit, shit.* Logan scanned the area, looking for anyone who could help but he and the girl were alone on the path. He hesitated for a moment, took another step, looked back at the downed woman and made a decision. Balthazar would be furious, but he couldn’t just leave the woman on the floor, especially if she was hurt.
“Are you okay?” Logan asked as he crouched next to her. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t see you.”
Meredith blinked, still dazed, her head ringing from the impact. A low groan escaped her lips, followed by a louder, more insistent one as she tried to sit up. “Fuckin’ hell!” she moaned, reaching back to touch what was gonna be one humongous lump on the back of her head. “Am I okay? Of course I’m not fucking okay!” she snapped, batting away his concern. “Some asshole just turned me into goddamned road kill!”
A second of regret passed through him. He should have kept up the chase rather than waste time getting chewed out, but after a deep breath, he calmed down. *Can’t blame her, for being mad* he thought, trying to coax himself into keeping his cool.
“The guy I was chasing, he tried to nick my wallet,” Logan lied, doing his best to diffuse the tension. “I guess I was just so focused on catching the punk, I didn’t notice you on the path.”
Managing to finally prop herself up, Meredith looked the guy over - he was plainly dressed in dark jeans, his white t-shirt tight over a well defined set of muscles. In short, he was just like every other frat boy come Abercrombie and Fitch model wannabe who made her life a goddamn misery. “Sure, I mean, why would you notice me? Heaven forbid a human being gets in the way of you getting your precious money back, just carry on. I’m sure you have a kegger you’re late for too.”
What the hell is a kegger? From the scowl on the girl’s face, he figured it wouldn’t be a good idea to ask. “It’s fine, I said he ‘tried’ to nick my wallet. I was just chasing him to teach him a bit of a lesson.”
There was a second where neither of them said anything, it was in this silence that he noticed just how attractive she was. Dark hair, pretty face and some…assets any man would admire. He reached out, offering the girl a hand. “Would her highness like some help up?” he said, eliciting an icy scowl. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”
“I don’t need anymore of your help,” Meredith snapped, leaning on her hands as she pushed up with her feet. A sharp stab of pain radiated from her right knee and she yelped, falling back onto her ass. She scowled again and held out her hand reluctantly. “Fine. You can help. But don’t get any ideas about trying to cop-a-feel or anything. I know self-defence.”
He seemed… amused? Well, she was so glad that her pain was such a bloody good source of entertainment for him! When it was obvious she wasn’t about to stand without a good amount of assistance, he wrapped one of her arms around his broad shoulders and his other around her waist, hoisting her up from the ground. Meredith groaned, she had one monster headache brewing and being fully vertical made her feel dizzy and ever so slightly nauseous.
“Hey, hey!” she shouted, wincing at her own voice as her head rang from the volume. The man looked at her like she’d gone mad. Meredith scowled and gestured to his hand that had slid up from her waist to her ribcage. “A little close to the boob don’t you think? Or is this how you get your women? Knock them out then drag them back to your cave.”
“I usually just rely on my bad boy good looks,” Logan retorted, making sure to reposition his hand so she didn’t get the wrong idea. He was starting to get annoyed with this girl’s attitude problem *and I don’t think it’s going to get better* he cringed, seeing the girls broken….walkman(?) on the ground next to her. “I think your walkman’s seen better days”.
“WHAT?” Meredith hopped around, giving the guy no option but to turn or let her go. Regardless of what he might have wanted to do, he held on and helped her stay standing even though her thinly reined in temper had just hit meltdown. “You broke my Walkman! Oh that is just-” she threw her only free hand up in the air, “and my Whitesnake tape, that was my- Brilliant! Just fan-bloody-tastic! What are you? A one-man demolition squad?”
“Would you calm down!” Logan finally burst. “It was a fucking accident alright? Do you think I thought to myself, ‘hey how about I mow over the first cute girl I see in the park?” He caught a slight glimpse of worry in the woman’s eyes, perhaps afraid that he was turning violent. “Ok, look,” he sighed, taking another deep breath to quench the fire that had begun burning in the pit of his stomach. “First, I think maybe I should take you to doctors to make sure you’re alright. And then we can see about stopping by an antique store to replace your walkman.”
“Ha ha, oh you’re so funny!” Meredith mocked, though her anger had cooled a touch. He was right, it was just an accident, and at least he’d not just left her crashed out on the ground, even after she’d torn into him. Maybe he wasn’t the total asshole she’d first pegged him as. “You should definitely stick with the ‘bad boy good looks’ thing, ‘cos the comedy routine? Needs some work.”
Logan could feel the girl relax slightly. “Don’t worry I wasn’t planning on quitting my day job, I’ll just stick to ‘one man demolition squad’. Here, let’s get you seated down for a second, there’s a bench over there”.
With Logan’s help, the girl took a step forward but winced when the weight came down on her right knee. “Here, hold on” without giving it much thought, Logan scooped her up into his arms.
“What are you-” Meredith squealed as he scooped her up, attracting the attention of a couple of joggers who slowed but didn’t bother to stop - obviously the sight of a girl being manhandled against her will didn’t warrant an intervention. Instinctively, Meredith clung onto the man as he lifted her from the ground. When she realised she’d practically shoved her tits in his face she loosened her hold.
“Put me down!” she demanded hotly, equal parts fury and embarrassment flaming her cheeks bright pink. “Put me down right now!”
He placed her on the bench and took a step back. “What do you want me to do?” His patience had just about hit its limit. Just when he thought she had calmed down, the harpee reared it’s ugly head again - this girl was infuriating. “If you want, I’ll just leave. You don’t think I have better things to do with my day than hang around here listening to you bitch at me when all I’m trying to do is help?” Now, he was really beginning to regret not chasing after the guy when he had the chance.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Meredith grit her teeth against the pain in her knee as he set her down with all the grace of a rag doll. Just when she thought maybe she’d been too hard on him, he went and acted like a jerk again! “Was I supposed to be grateful that you crashed into me like goddamn steamroller? Or maybe trashing my personal belongings? No, no, it must be when you had your hand on my ass just now! Thank-you, whoever you are, thank-you for taking time out of your busy schedule of chasing down random men just to teach them a lesson to fucking cripple me!”
Meredith stood up and immediately regretted it. “Owww!” she groaned and dropped back down on the bench, glaring up at the guy. Goddamn it he had some fucking problem if he expected her to be all dreamy eyed and swooning at his amazing display of strength in swooping her off her feet. She hadn’t been imaging his hand on her ass either, there had been definite cupping going on. “Well if you’re expecting some kind of medal you can just… piss off!”
Logan angrily reached into his back pocket, and pulled out his wallet. “Here’s twenty for a cab,” he said, tossing the money at the girl. “and here’s another hundred so you can get an Ipod to replace your fucking Walkman. Welcome to the 21st century, you’re only about 20 years late.” Logan began walking off, steam coming out of his ears. He almost felt a little bad leaving her there when…
“Hey, hey!” Meredith had been stunned when he’d thrown the money at her, now she was just plain furious. If she could have run after him she would have. “Don’t you walk away you… asshole! I don’t want your goddamn money! I said… I don‘t want your money!”
Logan rolled his eyes, not surprised that the dragon woman would get in the last word. "And there it is".
11:43 "Central Park"
2021-05-13 11:43 – Thursday, Central Park
Evalyn had been on her way back from Manhattenville in a cab when they'd almost immediately hit traffic. After crawling for what had seemed an eternity, they'd come abreast of Central Park on 5th avenue where the greenery had looked so pleasant that, after a quick inspection of her rising cab fare and a general observation that people on foot were overtaking them, Evalyn decided it might be nice to take a turn about the park.
“You could jump on the train, missy, instead of grumblin' about traffic in New York.” The cab driver had said after she'd instructed him to pull over.
“And you could jump in front of one! Oh 'ow the metro can solve all our problems.” She'd remarked, leaving him a pitiful tip and exiting the vehicle.
Her instincts had been right! She was moving much faster now that she was out and walking on her own. Not only that, but she felt a certain sense of calm wash over her as she reconnected with nature. There wasn't too much of it in this concrete city, full of skyscrapers, apartment buildings, shopping malls, bumper to bumper traffic and irritable taxi cab drivers. Mentally, she made a note to escape it more often. It could be suffocating at times, and it certainly didn't compare to the rolling meadows and picturesque landscapes she'd grown up with.
When her phone started ringing, Evalyn had reached the main reservoir. She paused in her stroll and moved aside to a nearby park bench as she reached into her bag to retrieve her phone. 'Maman' was clearly displayed on the caller screen. Evalyn debated letting the call slip into voice-mail, but finally decided it had been a good six months or so since she'd last spoken to her mother. Plus, if she didn't pick up now, she'd only be bothered again tomorrow, then the day after tomorrow, and then the day after that until she finally did answer. It was never anything important, but it's something her mother felt to be a duty.
“'Ello?” Evalyn braced herself for the experience.
“Evalyn, dear, whatever took you so long to pick up?” Her mother's voice on the other end of the line was as dry and tiring as ever.
“Nossing, mozzer, I just could not decide if I wanted to talk to you.” She smirked. Sometimes being honest was good for the soul.
There was a dissatisfied sniff from the other end of the line, however, then-“When you speak French, you may speak French, but when you speak English, my dear, you must speak English!”
Evalyn dropped onto the bench beside her with an exasperated sigh, “Yes mother.” she replied in a flawlessly English accent. She hated it. She felt she sounded too uppety! Like her mother.
“Heavens above, to think you're probably dragging that horrid accent all over America.”
“It is not a horrible accent, mother,” Evalyn said, clenching her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose, “It's my accent, unlike this fakery you insist upon me.”
“It is nothing of the sort: it's civilised. Now tell me what you've been up to! I've got an abundance of things to do today and I don't have the time to fluff around chatting with you.”
“I could always let you go and we could catch one another up later!” Evalyn tried hopefully, but her mother wasn't having any of it, and it was as if the air itself was being tainted by this unwanted conversation. Evalyn wrinkled her nose in distaste.
“Nonsense! But since you don't seem to be talking, I can tell you our neighbours have started building, of all things, a pagoda in their front yard! Hideous, let me tell you that!”
“Yes, I can only imagine.” Evalyn replied absently, frowning. What was that smell? It was getting stronger....
A sigh from the other end of the line betrayed that her mother knew she wasn't paying attention. “Is Yves there?”
“No, he's not.” Evalyn sniffed the air then opened her mouth slightly to breath that way instead as she looked around. A female jogger was in the distance heading towards her, but nothing else. “He's at home with the cat sitter.”
“A cat sitter? Whatever on earth inspired you to get a cat sitter!”
Because Yves likes a nice bosom to 'eadbutt in 'is free time, “Because my neighbour thought it odd and irresponsible that I left him alone during the day.” She smiled as she recalled a few of the other interesting things her neighbour, the animal activist, had told her, like the time she was irresponsible for not having Yves neutered. That went down very well!
“Ha! Yes, I can only imagine.” Her mother politely chuckled after Evalyn relayed the neutering episode. “Though I can hardly say it's a bad idea. He is a bit of a scoundrel.”
The jogger was nearly abreast of Evalyn when she was all but overwhelmed with the scent of dog, though there were no hounds to be seen! Evalyn eyed the jogger suspiciously as she swiftly passed by with her strong, determined pace, wearing some chunky contraption that bounced on her ass. A walkman? I didn't sink zey sold zem anymore!
“EVALYN!”
“Quoi?” She snapped back to the present and her mother. Her attention had lapsed while she'd been watching the jogger, and she was still eying the woman sceptically as she tread further in the direction Evalyn had originally come from, the heavy dog scent trailing after her.
“I said was it your idea or his to get the cat sitter?”
Quoi? 'Cat sitter'? Ah oui.... “It was my idea mother. Listen, I have to go.” Why did that girl smell so much of dog? Does she sleep with the damn beasts?
“Why must you go? We only just started talking!”
“Yes, I know, but ... something weird just happened.”
“Yes, a lot of weird things seem to happen when I'm talking to you.”
Evalyn rolled her eyes and tried to keep from throwing her phone into the reservoir. “Yes! But something weird seriously just happened!”
“Well what is it?”
“Mutherfucker!”
Evalyn's head snapped up from the phone at the sudden loud cussing. She couldn't see the jogger anywhere, but she could see a rather handsome man standing, perplexed, trading glances between something on the ground and someone else disappearing at a dead bolt. Perhaps the dog girl?
“What was that?”
“Mutherfucker.” Evalyn replied honestly with another smirk.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Mutherfucker mum! A real pain in the arse.”
“Well I never-”
“-Yes you have mother. I know about you. I'll speak to you later, OK?”
“Yes, yes. Very well. I do have this charity ball to finish arranging. The blasted 'big band' band has backed out, now insisting that they be paid! Honestly, you wonder if some people know what charity is anymore.”
“Excepting you mother.”
“Most certainly! Anyway, kisses. Take care, darling!”
“Au revoir!” Salope! Evalyn hit 'end call' with a sigh and stood up from the park bench, still mulling over the bizaar scent.
One last glance toward the man down the path showed him trying to help someone up now. Evalyn shrugged and turned her back, unaffected, slipped her bag onto her shoulder and continued on down the path. She wasn't sure how charity was going these days, but chivalry still seemed to be alive at least.
13:02 "About Tony..."
Frank knocked on Mr. Romano's door.
"Come in, Frank," The voice spoke from inside.
Frank walked in slowly, "I went to the The Bronx Morgue and ID'd the body. It ain't Carmine, it's Tony."
"You are sure?" Balthazar was fairly certain that even Frank wouldn't make a mistake like that, but he had to confirm it.
"I got his t'ings right here in a bag. If Carmine killed him he did it good. Musta been four or five slugs in 'im. I paid the usual fee to the coroner and brought the body back. Its down in the garage in the trunk of the Lincoln."
Balthazar nodded. He'd get his boys to pull the body into his lab where he could extract a few useful humours for later. His boys continued to work for him long after they were dead. Tony would make an excellent zombie.
"I called a friend who might be able to answer a few questions for me and we are going to meet her over at the Hellfire. We'll take the Escalade this time, I think."
Frank left the room. Balthazar pulled out a silk bag from his desk. He poured a small pile of the yellow powder onto his marble desktop. He pricked his finger with a letter opener and squeezed a drop of blood on the pile and waved his hand. "ricordo, memoria," he incanted as he fought the urge to collapse into vision.
The danger of this spell is that it is easy to get lost in it. I need to stay alert, he told himself forcefully. He payed the events of the last few days like a video tape on fast-forward.
He saw Tony drive to Carmine's home. He saw him leave the message he had gotten yesterday. He saw him shoot the Bocelli kid and then watched as Carmine Bocelli rose again and attacked Tony and killed him instead.
He slapped his hand onto the pile of dust breaking the spell. Using a purified cloth he wiped the surface clear and poured himself a glass of water. What could bring that Bocelli kid back from the dead like that? Did he have it? Could Carmine Bocelli have the Eye?
That was on the top of his list of questions for his meeting. But this was the best lead he'd had all week which improved his mood tremendously.
13:14 "Balthazar's Office"
2021-05-13 13:14 - Thursday
Balthazar's Office
The elevator dinged opened, revealing the familiar hallway to Balthazar’s office. Logan lingered a few second; he wasn’t in any rush to tell Romano that Rob had gotten away because he had bee too busy taking care of some girl he bulldozed over to keep up the chase. man, what a mistake that was. It was almost funny when he thought about it. Just how many times would he get chewed out in the same day?
“You going to dilly dally out there all day my boy?” Balthazar’s loud voice boomed jovially from the office down the hall.
“No, sorry sir,” Logan called back as he sped out of the elevator.
His boss’s office was really something to behold. Close to 1300 square feet, with marble floor, a small fortune in imported furniture and a western wall completely made of tinted glass. As massive as it was, there was definitely still a lot of unaccounted space on the 13th floor. There must be a hidden room or something Logan guessed.
“So, how is our friend Rob?” Sitting behind his gargantuan mahogany desk, Balthazar had his back turned to Logan, as he stared out the window to the city below.
“Well, probably halfway to Mexico, to be honest”.
“Is that so? He managed to get away?”
“I’m afraid so sir.”
Slowly, Balthazar’s chair spun around, but to Logan’s surprise the man did not seem angry, in fact, he looked to be in quite a decent mood.
“Ah well, don’t worry about it Loggey, can’t expect a big, athletic guy like you to be able to run as fast as a gangly little demon.”
Logan felt a bit offended at first, but when he noticed that Romano was laughing at his own joke, he relaxed. “I ended up crashing into this girl in Central Park. Banged her up pretty bad actually”.
“HA!” Balthazar slapped his knee, delighting in the thought of Logan clumsily running into some hapless woman. “Is that your way of trying to get a date my boy?”
“Actually, she wasn’t half bad to look at, but man oh man, definitely a few screws loose.” Logan was now chuckling along.
“Isn’t that the irony of the world, the hotter they are the more crazy they tend to be! Anyways, don’t worry about Rob, the money’s not important and I think he got the message. Actually I wanted to ask, are you busy tonight?”
The question caught Logan off guard, “Well, sir, you’re the boss so that really depends on you”.
“Touché!” Balthazar laughed again. “Of course of course. We’re going to the Hellfire Lounge again. I’ve got a meeting with an associate. And, given some of my track record there, I think it best if you’re around”.
“Whatever you want.”
15:40 "Balthazar and the Soothsayer"
Bored, Logan spun the stir stick of his gin tonic as he gazed absentmindedly around the room. A mix of humans and demons littered the swanky establishment; a typical crowd for the Hellfire Lounge. Next to him, Balthazar was deep in conversation with his associate, laughing as he always did, a bit obnoxious and a lot too loud.
Balthazar’s ‘friend’ was a scraggily looking woman by the name of Tabitha. She wasn’t overly fond on the eyes. She had short, frazzled, grey hair which matched her greyish skin, and when she smiled, you could see the excess of plaque around her cigarette stained teeth. From the conversation, Logan pieced together that she was a witch, like Balthazar. However, where his boss specialized in spells and rituals, invocations and basically anything that was big and flashy, Tabitha’s talents were more subtle. She had a knack for divination. From cards to crystals, she was proficient, and this made her a useful pawn to someone like Balthazar. However, for all her skills, the witch was never able to see just how fake Romano was with her. He would lavish the hag with praise and adoration and in return, she would use her gifts for whatever he wanted.
“So tell me gorgeous, where can I find this Eye?”
“Oh you silver tongued devil, sometimes I think you only call me for information” she laughed, enjoying herself too much to realize that’s exactly what was going on. Maybe on some level she did realize, Logan thought, but she probably didn’t have much of a social life, and these suppers with Balthazar were the highlights of her year. Guess it’s a win win.
Logan tuned out again, scanning the other patrons for something, anything interesting. It’s then that he noticed Persephone, the Hellfire’s peculiar manager. The strange beauty was speaking quietly to three women, sitting in a plush booth at the back of the bar. The women were also lookers, not like poor Tabitha, and Logan couldn’t help but wish he was sitting with them instead. As he let his gaze linger on the quartet of beauties, a strange feeling brewed up in him. Why do they look familiar?. He sat there staring, racking his brain for any scrap of memory that could tell him just why he thought he knew them. Suddenly, the four ladies halted their hushed conversation and simultaneously turned their attention to Logan. Instinctively, he looked away, embarrassed to have been caught gawking. He waited a few seconds before stealing another glance their way. That’s weird. They were all still looking at him, each one now sporting a fresh scowl. Guess I’m not their type.
“He has what?!” Balthazar’s tone had suddenly taken a turn south, catching Logan’s attention once again.
“I had a dream of it last night and you know my dreams are never wrong. Your Grathoki friend gave your little gopher a drop.”
Logan kinda wished he had paid more attention. He had zero idea what they were talking about but his boss definitely seemed pissed.
“Well what else did you see?” Though he tried to keep his cool, Balthazar was seething with rage. He was on the verge of something big, something he’d been planning for months and the last thing he needed was a supernatural catastrophe going on in New York. In the hands of an idiot like Carmine, the Drop could lead to some serious problems, inevitably drawing unwanted attention to Balthazar.
“Oh Balthazar, you know I wouldn’t keep anything from you if I knew,” Tabitha said, taking a sip of her wine.
“No, of course you wouldn’t” Romano replied, his mind contemplating the repercussions of the news he just received. “Well my love, it’s been a pleasure as always, but I’m afraid we have to run.” Abruptly, Balthazar stood up, disregarding the glum look that appeared on the witch’s face.
“Why so soon?”
“Don’t be sad gorgeous,” Balthazar said, as he leaned in, giving the hag a kiss on each cheek. “We’ll do supper again soon. Can’t stay out late tonight, I’ve got a big party to attend on Saturday and you know at my age, too many late nights don’t agree”.
Tabitha did her best to hide her disappointment. “I’ll hold you too it.”
As Logan politely said goodbye, he noticed Persephone standing near the bar with one of her steroid ridden bouncers. She was fixated on Balthazar now, a mischievous smirk on her porcelain face. ‘The hotter they are, the more crazy they tend to be’,” Logan thought, remembering Balthazar’s words from earlier that day.
16:36 "Bless me father for I have sinned"
Frieda had been waiting for the SISSY priest Father Gary to ceom to take confessions like he did at 4:00 pm every Tuesday and Thursday. She usually came to confession on Wednesday's to see Father Herman who was a nice older man and who didn't SASHAY and MINCE through the church but rather walked with properly reverent movements.
She also didn't like the way that Father Gary seemed to focus on the youth in the church. She saw him trying to get those GANG-BANGERS and THUGS into the church with their SLUT girlfriends and she didn't see that as proper at all. The lot of them should burn in hell like she was going to as soon as she got through doing the righteous work she had left to do.
Father Gary entered the confessional and Frieda stepped up to the door only to have some teenaged girl painted like WHORE wearing a skirt that made her look like a HOOKER jump past her and into the confessional.
She stood there for a long few minutes seething with rage. She could hear murmured voices that her mind began to construct into a meaningful dialog:
"Bless me father for I have sinned, it has been a week since I last sucked your dick."
"Go ahead, sister, I am hard for you now."
"MMlphp slurp mplpht"
This was too much for Frieda. To defile the church in this way was beyond the patience of anyone, damned or not. She knew even as she was flinging open the door and plunging her knife into the girl and the young priest that she'd have to come back tomorrow and speak to Father Herman. It would be a longer confession than usual, but there were usually fewer people here on Fridays than on Thursdays.
18:18 "A way with the ladies"
Carmine felt like throwing up but he didn't have anything to throw up in his stomach. He had not eaten anything for about two days. He wanted to tell Mr. B about Tony and how Tony had tried to kill him, but he wasn't sure what he'd say. "I'm sorry I killed Tony, Mr. B.," didn't seem to be sufficient.
This wasn't like the time he'd beaten up that Henry Collins in 8th grade for calling him stupid. The teacher made him stand in the corner all day and then Momma had to come and get him from school and talk to the teacher. That had been bad. Henry had to wear braces for a long time after that.
Carmine had spent all his money on bus fare to get back to Manhattan. He was standing outside Hellfire. He looked at the sign with the fire and the dancing devil-girls all lighted up and how they smiled like they was having a good time. Carmine knew Hell wasn't nuthin' like that. Hell was dark.
He went inside to see if Mr. B was in there. He'd have to tell him what happened, somehow.
"Hey Butterball, where's your Mommie?"
Carmine turned to see a waitress named Lina leaning against the bar. She had on one of the trademark "devil girl" suits in black that looked so tight it seemed to be painted on. Carmine thought she looked pretty but she wasn't ever nice to him. She said he was a Momma's boy and that real girls didn't need a guy like him.
"Hi, Lina, is Mr. B. in?"
"He's Mr, R, Butterball. Ro-Man-O. Balthazar is his first name. And he is, but he's busy"
"He lets me call him, Mr. B." Carmine muttered.
"I'm sorry, Butterball, I didn't catch that because of your jowls flapping. In fact, I don't want to. If you want to wait in the kitchen, I'll tell him you are here and he can send for you if he can stand to look at you."
Cathie, another one of the waitresses, came over, "Carmine, don't let her make you mad. I'll get you a sandwich and a Coke or something. You look like you need something to eat."
Carmine was hungry and Cathie was nice even if she did have to wear that silly devil-girl costume with the sparkly horns. In the kitchen, Connie got him a grilled cheese and she cut it in triangles like Momma did. He drank his Coke and ate his sandwich quietly while he waited.
Lina walked into the kitchen and immediately frowned. "Aw, shit," she said loudly, "Who let the retard into the food? Are you going to pay for that sandwich, retard?"
"Cathie said..." he started.
"Cathie ain't shit to me, retard," Lina screamed at him, "Persephone said you don't get jack shit in this place without somebody paying for it, so give me your four bucks and get the hell out of here."
"I ain't a retard," Carmine muttered, "And I don't have four dollars."
"Don't mumble, retard. Its bad enough I have to wait four hours for you to finish a sentence, you got to mumble too?"
"I said, I'm NOT A RETARD!" Carmine slammed Lina into the stainless steel counter so hard she gasped. He held one hand on her throat and the other he made into a meaty fist.
"Fucking retard!" she gasped, reaching for anything to use against him.
Carmine began to pound on her. He outweighed her 115 lbs. nearly three times. She stopped struggling after the first few hits, but in his rage he continued to pound her face and body until she was limp as a rag. He dropped her lifeless body on the tile floor, swigged the last of his Coke and ran out of the kitchen.
He had to go home, his Momma would know what to do. She would hold him and tell him what to do now.
Tony straightened the tie he'd gotten from the security room lockers in Balthazar's building. It had taken him a lot longer to get out of the Lincoln's trunk than he'd have though it possible but he hadn't expected to wake up there in the first place. He called Mr Romano to tell him that he was back, and that Carmine Bocelli was a bigger danger than they had anticipated.
Mr. Romano wasn't happy, but he said he'd take care of it. He wanted Tony to find a Verbati demon named Rob. Tony frowned. Verbati were hard to find when they didn't want to be. All shape-changers were, but Tony had an idea where he might be.
Tony headed to the subway and took the 3 up to 137th street and walked over to City College. He knew Rob was a bookworm. If he was hiding there was only one place he would go to ground. He entered the library and casually walked to top of the balcony to the wide landing at the top. There, he looked around at the statues arrayed by the various shelves. Muses. Practice, Memory, Song, and a fourth, unnamed muse standing on a stone plinth next to the ladies room.
Tony walked over and leaned on it. It exhaled. "Hi Rob, perving the ladies room I see."
The statue melted and reformed into something resembling a college student. "Hi Tony, I'm sorry that Mr. Romano wasn't all that happy with what I got, but that was all they had. You know how it is, sometimes you hit the jackpot, and sometimes you don't."
"I know, Rob, and I got some bad news for you. Today you don't."
Tony dragged Rob into the men's room across the hall. He glared at the only other occupant until he left and pushed the heavy metal trash-can against the door. "Anything to say, Rob?"
Rob paused momentarily but then his arms sprouted foot-long claws which he raked down the front of Tony's chest. Blood fountained out and made the floor slick, but Tony just stood there. "Are we done, now, Rob?" he asked, "Because not only do I have other things to do, but the cleanup is going to delay those even further."
Rob started to lunge again, but Tony just pumped seven or eight rounds from his silenced pistol into him. When Rob stopped moving, Tony used a knife to skin him and cut out several vital organs which he placed in the sinks to drain.
It used all of the toilet paper and paper towels in the restroom to clean up all of the blood an viscera and the plastic bag in the trash-can was strained to its limit when he had finished. Rob took the damp but serviceable hoodie and sweat-pants that Rob had been wearing to replace his shredded suit and left quickly so he could report back to Mr. Romano.
He'd made his kill for the day, he'd be good until tomorrow, and certainly Mr Romano would have plenty of work for him to keep busy with.
20:50 "Mamma's not here"
Carmine saw the police tape first. Then he saw the broken door and the spray-painted walls. He walked slowly through the living-room and looked at all of the little glass puppies that he'd bought his Momma at the flea-market over the years now lying broken and looking with sad brown eyes in all different directions.
He walked into the kitchen and saw that someone had left the refrigerator door open and that stuff had melted into a puddle on the floor. Momma would be furious when she saw that. He went upstairs and found that both his and momma's bedrooms had been thrown around. There was spray paint here too on the pictures and on the walls. All of Momma's nice things from her dresser were missing and the mattress was tilted up and had been ripped open on the bottom.
His room had been mostly just thrown around but all of his Star Wars toys were gone including the 12-inch Jar-Jar that he had saved all summer to buy. He laid down on his bed and just felt numb. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know where to go. So he started to cry and he cried until he fell asleep.
22:15 "Graveyard Club Lower level"
Graveyard Club
*Now, where the hell are you, Annie?* Cadee asked to herself, as she pushed past the crowd on the dance floor until she reached the bar, taking a seat in the spot with the best view of the whole club.
Anne had probably infected her with some goth-virus, because she actually liked the Graveyard Club, albeit not with a passion like she did. It looked like a Victorian ballroom, all glass chandeliers and ornate floor to ceiling columns, with purple and blue lights and Goth artwork projected onto the walls. The bar was long and inviting, the dance floor was very spacious, and near the walls there were many tables, puffs and several couches, along with some booths that provided more privacy. It was great, very sophisticated and classy, not a bit of trashiness about the place.
Cadee even liked the people it attracted. Hell, she should, her best friend was a regular! Besides, the place not only attracted goths, but other city-fauna types as well – and the occasional vampire, of course. There weren’t many places where they could show themselves and pass as humans… and strangely enough, she hadn’t heard of any fatalities at the club.
She was startled as female bartender, hair as red as strawberries, came over to serve her. And still no sign of Anne. Damn.
"Hi, hon." She spoke to Cadee with a purring Brit accent, "want anything to drink while you wait?"
Cadee laughed, she had been so evident. "Sure, a virgin daiquiri, please.” She laughed again at the cute bartender’s raised eyebrow. “Got class in the morning, no alcohol for me.”
“You know, I have this hell of hangover recipe I could give you-” But at Cadee’s look, she raised her hands in resignation. “A virgin-bloody-daiquiri is it.”
“No blood, please” Cadee said, enjoying the girl’s confusion at her joke. “Not my thing.”
She was about to sip on her alcohol-free drink, when Anne suddenly appeared from behind. Her smile was so big, Cadee thought she could see her ears through it.
“Guess what?” She asked, and sort of bounced up and down in her excitement.
“Where the hell have you been?” Cadee asked instead, and gave her friend her drink, in an attempt to still her. It sort of worked, for she stopped bouncing, at least.
“Upstairs,” she answered, and Cadee knew she was talking about the more exclusive part of the club. Kinda VIP section. “So, guess what?”
She laughed, either she tried to guess or Anne would keep asking the whole night. “Let me see… you bumped into that Darque vampire of yours and he asked you to be his bride?”
“Better still!!!”
“Oh? What could possibly be better than that?” Cadee asked, intrigued at last.
“There’s gonna be a book launch party on Sat! ‘Darque Desires’! Lucinda Graves will be here, and probably some other authors as well! Isn’t it great?”
“Yay!” Cadee agreed, she knew how much those things meant to Anne. Then she remembered her previous encounter with the author. “You know, she was at Sláinte the other night, your vampire lady.”
“She what???” Anne’s eyes grew as plates. “Lucinda Graves was at the bar? And when were you planning to tell me?”
*Oops…* “Oh… now?”
“You gotta be kidding me! When did this happen? Lucinda Graves was at the Sláinte and you didn’t tell me? I can’t fucking believe it, Cade!”
“I’m sorry, Anne,” she said, and she bit her lip. “It sort of slipped my mind. She was there on a date. With detective Sandoval, remember I told you about him? She said she may return,” she offered in an attempt to ease things.
“You better text me the moment she puts a foot on that fucking bar again.” She said, pointing Cadee as she spoke. “And now let’s go ask Jasmin for a couple of passes for Saturday. I wouldn’t miss that party for anything.”
“I work on Sats, Annie-” she started, but was stopped by her friend’s angry look. Cadee sighed. “Ok, I’ll ask Angus for the night off… but then we’re even.”
“Of course,” Anne answered, finally smiling again. Then she sipped at Cadee’s drink and sprayed strawberry juice all over, “what the fuck is this, Cade? You trying to poison me or what?”
“As if I could,” Cadee laughed. “Bad weeds are hard to kill."
22:20 "Graveyard Club Upper Level"
Graveyard Upper Level
It was the first time that Cadee had been to the upper level of the Graveyard, and she was pleasantly surprised. Everything, from the aspect and size of the place, to the patrons, the music, lightning and general atmosphere, was much more subdued than in the other level, but at the same time, it was much more classier. While the lower Graveyard reminded you of a Gothic castle, this upper Graveyard reminded you of a Victorian gentleman’s club, without losing its nightclub identity.
She looked at Anne, and smiled. “I like this, why haven’t you brought me here before?”
“’Cause you like hunks, and hunks don’t come up here,” Anne answered casually while she scanned the crowd looking for any sign of Jasmin.
“I so don’t… well, not always.” Cadee answered, looking around as well. She spotted a couple of guys looking at them from the dance floor, they weren’t your usual beefcake, but neither were they ‘regular’. She elbowed Anne and signaled them with her head. “And what do you call those, Mr.Ugly?”
Anne smiled sweetly. “No. Gay. They’re looking at you because they think you’re a man. Told you to wear a skirt.” She then spotted Jasmin near the bar. “Come on, I see Jasmin over there.”
“Funny, very funny.” She laughed. “So, explain me again why you so object to suck up the lady for a part, but you would for a pair of party passes?”
The brunette looked sternly at her, “if you have to ask, you don’t know me at all, missy. It’s not at all the same. Besides, it’s Lucinda Graves.”
“Of course.” Cadee rolled her eyes, but followed Anne.
Jasmin was near the back, looking every more frustrated at the evening. Her phone was out, in one of her long dresses and corsets. The catch-up of the past two days had been hell, and now on the time she was supposed to be out there, she was, once again, in an argument. “Yes, for Halloween,” she was in the middle of saying. “Yes, I know. That's only five months away. All the more reason to prepare now... yes, you heard me right. Shoggoth on the Roof.”
A pause. “Shoggoth, not saw goth.... S – H – O – G – G – O – T – H!” She listened to the other person for a few more seconds, as he recorded the idea for the pitch. Last time she decided to even try to anything charity-related. The frustrated vampire hung up, growling lowly to herself at the phone and getting an odd look from people around her. As she turned back and saw the pair of women approaching her, though, she forced her look to soften.
“Anne, what a pleasant surprise,” she spoke up to be heard over the crowd and the music as she approached. Her eyes turned to the young blonde woman with her, and back. The smile was as much a product of the old acting training as it was genuine interest. “Is this your partner, or just a friend?” Her voice remained lighter, and teasing. The better to put her at ease.
“Hello, Jasmin,” Anne answered the other woman, smiling herself. It had not been the first time that she had witnessed this… mutation from ruthless businesswoman to the old Hollywood charm Jasmin cultivated. *You gotta thank the servant’s invisibility thing* she said to herself. Even if she wasn’t Jasmin ‘servant’ herself, she had been around while waiting for orders enough to catch Jasmin doing business a time or two. She actually admired the duality involved, it was essential around the circles she moved in.
She looked at Cadee and back to Jasmin, blushing a little when she got the woman’s meaning. “Cadee here is my friend, Jasmin, sorry to tell you.” Then she turned to her friend. “Cadee, let me introduce you to Jasmin Taylor. Jasmin, this is my roommate, Cadence Cloud. Cadee.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam.” Cadee said, smiling as well as she extended her hand in greeting. “Let me tell you that your club is great, I so much enjoy it.”
It took her a moment to extend and take her hand so briefly in greeting. The delicate dance of contact: she knew that most people wouldn't notice the temperature. Not without an extended period. So after only a few seconds, she ended the handshake. “Please, don't call me madam,” she said a touch forcefully. “It makes me sound like I'm running a whorehouse.”
As the moment of bitch passed, she clasped her hands back together in front of her, turning attention back to Anne. “When I get this charity production approved, make sure you audition for the role of Asenath.”
“Shall do. ‘Shoggoth’ is one of my all time favorites, not easy to find Howard Phillips in a musical…” She then bit her lip and forced herself to continue speaking. It was easier to tell Cadee that she would ask for those darn passes, and another thing to actually do it. “See, Jasmin, I just learnt that next Saturday the club is going to hold a party for Lucinda Graves, and I so love her books… damn, this is difficult.”
She chuckled, amusedly; Jasmin could guess what was coming, after sixty years in the business. The unmistakable approach of someone asking for a favor but too afraid to ask. “Yes, we are,” she spoke softly at that. “Never hosted something quite like this before, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up.” Which was true: the event meant free publicity, and exposure to more people who might be inclined to come back another night.
“Yeah, well. The fact is that I love Lucinda Graves’ books, and I’d love to attend that party.” She smiled tentatively. “But I know those events are pretty exclusive, so… I was wondering if you could give me and my friend a couple of passes?”
There, she had said it.
Jasmin paused for a moment purely for effect. It was always good to do that; she looked between the two women. “Let me go see if I have any left; I will be back in a minute.” With the same fake look, she turned from them, heading back towards her office. Naturally, she already knew she had a few. But it was all part of the game.
Anne turned around and started the bouncing dance again. “We’re in, Cadee. Oh my god, we’re coming to Lucinda’s party!!” Then she noticed her friend’s serious expression. “What?”
But Cadee was too focused on the blonde’s retreating figure to actually hear her. She had been from the moment her fingers had touched Jasmin’s, that briefest contact had shocked her like white lighting. Cold. She’d been too damn cold.
And then there was a sum of other tiny bits of information that all but jumped to her. Her smell for one; she smelled off. It had taken Cadee a couple of minutes to get what the exact problem was. The club was crowded and not hot, but not cold either… yet, she couldn’t smell any sweat – not foul smelling sweat, but any kind of sweat, or any body odors, actually. Usually people smelled to… people. Jasmin just smelled of perfume. Her skin was too pale, translucent, and it wasn’t your usual goth make up, her chest movements didn’t indicate actual breathing, but moved only enough for her to actually ‘speak’…
It all screamed Vampire to her.
“Cadee!”
Anne’s shaking her finally woke her up. She looked at her friend and thought about what she had learnt, did Anne know? *Of course she doesn’t know, silly. * She opened her mouth to speak, when she changed her mind. It wasn’t the time or the place. She had heard enough of this Jasmin woman to know she didn’t pose an immediate threat to any of them. *Hell, you don’t build and maintain a place like this killing couriers and customers!*
She forced herself to regain her carefree ways and answer to Anne. “Yeah! It seems we have a party next Saturday!”