Authors: A.L. Larsen
“I still don’t know why you’d show that to me.”
A deep sadness settled over Augustine, pushing out the little bit of hope that had lingered within him. He accepted it wearily, as if it was his usual state of being and said, “You would have read it in my mind eventually anyway. This way I won’t have to worry about that moment when you discover I’m a monster. Now you know.”
Silence settled heavily on them.
After several long moments, Alastair said quietly, “That’s a good idea about the werewolves. I should have thought of that myself.” He’d been listening in as Augustine’s thoughts drifted back to ways of finding out who’d bespelled Alastair.
Augustine sighed. He was depressed and tired and hungry, dreading the long drive back to his home in L.A. “I’m glad I could help in some small way. You know where I’ll be if you need anything. Not that I actually expect you to call.” He started to return to his car, not looking at Alastair.
“I can’t believe you’re just walking away,” Alastair said.
“I’m through trying to coerce you, Alastair. I’ve wasted so many years and put us both through hell, and I can’t keep up this exercise in futility.” Sadness radiated from him as he crossed the graveyard.
“Wait.” Alastair was surprised to hear himself say that.
Augustine stopped and turned slowly toward Alastair. He became tense, alert, wondering if this was all some sort of elaborate trap after all, wondering if his own creation was finally going to have his revenge on him.
“If what I wanted was revenge,” Alastair said, “I could have killed you a dozen times by now. Obviously that’s not why I let you find me.”
“I wouldn’t blame you in the slightest for wanting to kill me.”
“But I don’t.”
“You sure about that?”
“I don’t need to kill you. There’s no possible way you’re a threat to me, now that I can read your thoughts. I’ll be ready for anything you think of.”
“Not that I was planning on doing anything to you.”
“I know,” Alastair told him. Then he said, “Augustine, stay and help me. Or at the very least, stay and get some rest. You’re exhausted.”
Augustine watched him for a long moment. And then he said, “If you really want my help, then I’ll stay. And you’re right, I
am
exhausted, but I’ll be better after I’ve eaten. Which clearly isn’t going to happen here,” he said, waving a hand at their surroundings. “And why exactly are we in a cemetery, Alastair?”
“You’re not the only one that’s entitled to some melodrama,” Alastair said with a little grin.
Augustine smiled at that, and then he said, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For giving me a chance when clearly I don’t deserve it. For speaking to me. For allowing me to help. For not driving a stake through me the moment you saw me.”
“Don’t make me regret it,” Alastair told him.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to screw this up,” Augustine said with a sweet smile. Then he said, “Ok, give me a half hour and then we can get to work finding out who cast that spell. Where are you staying?”
Alastair gave him the address of the motel, and his maker started to walk away.
But Alastair called after him. “Augustine, what happened to my sister? To Meg?”
Augustine paused and looked over his shoulder at Alastair, saying, “She left me. Just a few weeks ago, actually.”
Alastair watched the memory of a young woman he himself couldn’t remember, a woman with pale skin and long wavy black hair, driving away from a big white house somewhere in the hills above a sprawling metropolis.
“And you just let her go?”
“That was never the Davies I wanted,” Augustine sighed. “She was a pitiful substitute for you.”
Augustine’s unfathomable loneliness washed through both of them as he thought, rather than said,
I love you, Alastair. But I know it will never be mutual.
He returned to his car then and drove away, pushing down his sadness, compartmentalizing it like he had a million times before.
Alastair crossed the graveyard and slid behind the wheel of the Impala. He didn’t start the engine, though. Instead he sat there tracking his maker’s progress.
Augustine drove directly to a nice hotel called the Chaminade Resort, someplace the vampire had visited in the past. Alastair monitored his maker’s thoughts as he got a room and instructed the person at the front desk to send housekeeping to him immediately.
Ordering room service,
Alastair thought. He started the engine and drove toward Augustine’s hotel, just in case things were about to get out of hand.
Alastair watched the situation closely, but his maker was careful not to harm the young woman that came to his room. He compelled her and drank from her, then sent her on her way. It was quick, efficient.
Nothing to worry about.
Alastair closed his eyes and sighed with relief. Then he pulled the red cell phone from his pocket and speed-dialed Bryn.
“You have
got
to be kidding me.”
Joey’s hands were on his hips, and he was staring at his maker. He’d just been told that Augustine was going to be coming to their motel soon, to help them find the person that had bespelled Alastair.
“Try not to kill him when he gets here,” Alastair said, trying to keep his tone light. He wondered if he’d done the right thing in asking Augustine to stay and help them.
But with their new connection his maker could easily track him now, he could find Alastair on his own any time he wanted to. Given that, it made sense to try to make peace and cooperate with Augustine.
“Were you not listening
at all
when I told you this person is a monster?” Joey asked. “When I told you he’s done horrible things to you?”
“I know exactly what he is. I can hear every one of his thoughts, and I can see his memories when he thinks of them. He even showed me some of my past, so I know exactly what he’s done.”
Joey shuddered slightly. “I can only imagine the twisted, demented pit of darkness in his mind.”
Alastair said, “It’s not like that. It’s amazing to see how fast his mind works, actually.”
Joey stared at him for a long moment, then said, “You’re defending him.”
“I’m not saying I condone what he’s done. I’m just saying…well, I think I kind of understand him.”
“Oh my God. Sympathy for the Devil,” Joey said, shaking his head.
“What?”
“It’s an old song by the Rolling Stones that my dad used to play over and over,” Joey told him. “Seemed appropriate.”
“Look, whether or not I feel any sympathy for Augustine is irrelevant. I just know he can’t hurt us now, and I think he can probably help us,” Alastair said. “Plus, I’d know if he was planning anything, Joey. I can see every thought as he has it.”
“Great. So know if he’s planning anything while he’s back in L.A. We don’t need his help with this.”
“We
do
need his help, actually,” Alastair said as he crossed the room to sit at Lu’s feet. “We need this thing that was done to me resolved as soon as possible so you two aren’t in constant danger. And with his help it’ll go that much faster.” Lu had been watching the exchange silently, and now she stroked Alastair’s dark hair.
Joey’s voice rose as he said, “You want us out of constant danger? Try not inviting one of the most evil creatures on this planet to our hotel room.”
“You know he can find me any time he wants to now, as long as the connection between us remains open,” Alastair said. “So yes, I invited him to come here, but obviously he could have just tracked me down on his own. I think it makes sense to cooperate with Augustine. We can’t run from him, so maybe the best we can do is try to make peace with him and not antagonize him.”
“Or, here’s a thought: we could
kill him
,” Joey said, his voice rising.
But Alastair was shaking his head. “I just can’t do that, Joey. And I can’t let you do it, either.”
“Aren’t you going to call Bryn? Try to get him to close the connection again?” Lu asked.
“I did call him,” Alastair said, “before I came back to the motel. He was totally at a loss, he said he couldn’t imagine what he’d done to open this connection with Augustine. He’s going to try to figure out what happened, but said it would take some time.”
Joey sighed in frustration and knocked the back of his head against the wall he was leaning on.
“So what was Augustine like when you met him?” Lu asked.
Alastair shrugged and said simply, “He was apologetic.”
Joey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right! In order to be apologetic, he’d have to have a conscience. And his, along with his humanity, was buried so deeply and so long ago that not even a bulldozer could dig it out of him. It has to be an act. He’s manipulating you.”
“There’s no way,” Alastair persisted. “No one’s that good an actor.”
“Not unless they’ve had over a thousand years of practice. It’s a huge mistake to trust him!” Joey exclaimed.
“I didn’t say I trust him. But I really don’t think we have any choice but to cooperate with him. There’s no place we can run that he can’t follow. And any time he feels like it, he can call in his own personal army and do whatever he wants to us,” Alastair said. “The thing is, though, I believe he really is sorry for what he’s done in the past, and he wants to make amends. I’m still reading his every thought, and I know he feels incredibly guilty. I also know he’s not planning to hurt us.”
“He doesn’t have to
plan
anything,” Joey sighed. “He probably doesn’t even need to
think
about it. He’ll just take one look at how cozy you and Lu are and he’ll tear her head off, acting on pure insanely jealous instinct! It’ll be over and done in a split second.”
Lu’s hand froze in place on Alastair’s head. “Super comforting thought, Joe,” she said.
“It’s not
meant
to be comforting!” Joey exclaimed. “It’s meant to remind Alastair that this person -- this
thing
-- is a remorseless killer and a brutal sadist, one we should be running from no matter how futile that seems. Augustine’s a monster, he’s pure evil!”
“You left out the fact that I’m a snappy dresser.”
Joey gasped and took a stumbling step sideways, away from the door. Lu turned her head in the direction of the unfamiliar voice and saw a tall, thin boy leaning casually against the doorframe. He was dressed all in black, his clothes obviously expensive and a strong contrast to the low budget motel room. He reached up and tucked a strand of long platinum blonde hair behind his ear and smiled pleasantly.
Alastair stood and placed himself subtly between Lu and Augustine, thinking about what Joey had said, and of course Augustine immediately picked up on what he was doing. He said gently, “I’m not going to harm her, Alastair. You know that.”
“Just out of curiosity, how’d you get in?” Lu asked, leaning back in her chair and peering around Alastair at the newcomer.
Augustine crossed the room and sat in the chair across the table from Lu, his movements slow and purposeful so as not to convey any sort of threat. He looked at her closely, the smile still playing on his full lips. “I’d like to claim it was some impressive feat of cunning. But actually, Alastair left the door ajar for me.”
Joey clicked his tongue and said, “Awesome.”
“I knew you were on your way,” Alastair told him.
“Please let me kill him,” Joey begged. “Please?”
“If you’re a good boy maybe he’ll let you kill me later, Joey. For now, we have work to do,” Augustine said lightly. “We need to go out and catch a werewolf.”
“Why? You need a new throw rug for your entryway and wolf pelt is all the rage this season?” Joey shot back.
“No. Although that’s not a bad idea…but no. All the werewolves around here are going to be wired into the wolves you encountered in San Francisco. We’re still in the greater bay area pack’s territory. Any wolf we find will know who hired the pack members that were outside Bryn’s house,” Augustine said. His mood was upbeat, happy, Alastair noted, as if all of this was exhilarating for him.
“We don’t need your help catching a single werewolf. Why don’t you crawl back under your rock and leave us alone?” Joey’s voice was low, menacing.
Augustine sighed and stood, and immediately Joey tensed up. “Let’s leave him here, Alastair. He’ll be of no use if all he’s doing is quibbling. Besides, someone should probably stay here and keep an eye on the girl.”
Joey swore under his breath, and looked like he really wanted to lunge at Augustine. “No! Don’t play into his hands, Alastair. Don’t do anything he asks.”
“Actually,” said Lu, rising to her feet, “No one needs to ‘keep an eye on the girl.’ I’ll come with you, we’ll all go.”
“Good, Lu,” Joey said sarcastically. “Then Augustine can use you as werewolf bait.”