Undeath and Taxes (19 page)

Excruciatingly slowly, Charlotte began to nod. “All right, Fred. If everyone here signs the contracts, then I’ll let you all go. I’m trusting you, one of us to another.”

“You won’t regret it,” I promised her.

“I don’t know what the fuck you all are talking about, but there is no way I’m sign—” Troy’s great attempt at defying the course of the conversation was halted as Asha kicked him in the shin under the table. I could have heard the impact even without my vampire senses, and I noted Troy’s eyes watering just a touch at the edges.

“Don’t worry about him. He’ll be happy to sign,” Asha assured us.

Charlotte held out her hand to me. “Well, Fred, let’s pass out the pens and be done with this night.”

9.

As Mr. Price drove off in his car—Cliff riding shotgun since his own vehicle was temporarily ornamental—I kept a firm grip on the briefcase holding everyone’s contracts. Of course, we’d taken photographs of them as soon as they were signed, both to provide copies to the signers and to serve as back-ups, but things could get murky if the originals were lost. Since Charlotte was a new client, I would hate to set a poor precedent by making things more complicated for her. That was, after all, the opposite of what a good accountant should do.

Asha finished helping Troy into the car they’d shared over, setting him upright and helping him buckle the seatbelt. My guess was that his next stop would be a nearby hospital. He didn’t seem to have broken anything, but he was no doubt in need of getting a few things x-rayed and hopefully receiving some painkillers.

With Troy settled, Asha walked back over to me, a half-smile curving across her face as she looked at the house that had held her captive for much of the evening. Charlotte stood on the porch, once more in the appearance of a woman wearing a century old style of dress. Despite her technically genderless nature, somewhere along the line, I’d begun thinking of Charlotte as a “her.” That might not have been proper, but she’d yet to correct me, and referring to a client as “it” felt wrong on multiple levels. Especially for a parahuman.

“Be honest with me: am I going to wake up tomorrow and be able to pretend this was all a bad dream?” Asha asked.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. Lots of people do, but you went in pretty deep. If you try, really try with all your might, then you might one day be able to lie yourself into believing it was something other than it was.”

“I figured you’d say something like that,” Asha replied. “Thing is: I am terrible at lying to myself.”

“Then you might be good and well stuck on this side of the curtain.”

“It could be worse. At least I know the monster under the bed has certain laws he has to follow. Who knows, maybe when I get home, I’ll go buy a copy of that role-playing book and see exactly what those rules are.”

“Shouldn’t you get some sleep instead?”

It was Asha’s turn to laugh, and she did so freely, letting out a half-frantic giggle that was probably a mixture of relief at being free and terror at the truths she’d learned about the world. “No, Fred. I don’t see myself getting any decent sleep for a long time.”

“In that case, go to the book’s website. There are free .PDFs you can download. Should keep your brain occupied until sunrise.”

“Good to know.” Asha’s mad bubbles of laughter subsided, and she looked at the imposing silhouette of Charlotte Manor against the moonlight flooding down on us. “How do you do it, Fred? How do you live every day knowing that there are all sorts of terrible, horrifying things that really could be waiting in the shadows? How do you even get out of bed?”

“It helps that I’ve met a lot of those ‘things,’ and most of them are just like regular people. They work, they worry, and they do their best to survive. Even Charlotte, for all the craziness she put us through, was just afraid of being killed. But, at the end of the day, I suppose I have a source of comfort you don’t: I am one of those terrible, horrifying things.”

“I didn’t mean it like . . . I’m sorry.” Asha jingled the keys in her hand as she turned away from me. “It’s been a long night. I need to go home, decompress, and try to make sense of all this.”

“I find a good merlot helps tremendously,” I told her.

“Not a bad idea.” Asha glanced back at me over her shoulder. “Good luck with everything, Fred. Maybe I’ll see you around some time.”

“For all our sakes, let’s hope next time is a bit tamer.”

Asha gave a curt nod, and then headed to her car. She slid in, pointedly ignoring whatever Troy was talking to her about, and revved the engine. Moments later, they were gone, little more than fading tail lights on the half-deserted concrete road.

“Credit where it’s due: she took that better than most people,” Charlotte said from the porch. “The mages used to initiate new recruits in my basement, and a lot of them just broke down after learning about the supernatural world.”

“Hard to blame them.” I walked up the steps and took a seat on one of the antique rocking chairs set out on the porch. “Truthfully, it took me about a week to leave my bed after I’d made the transition, and I was arguably far better off for it.”

“You seem to be coping well these days.” Charlotte sat down next to me and extended her hand. “Though, I bet a drink would help. You said merlot, right?”

“Yes, I—” A quick glance showed me that there was now a wine glass filled with red liquid on the table next to me, where previously there had been only empty space. “How do you do that?”

“Built-in magic, remember? After all, I was meant to be a fortress, and running out of supplies is a big concern during a siege. One of my more useful tricks, too. It’s not like I can set up contracts with vendors for outside food or anything.”

“Actually, you can.” I took a deep breath of the wine and found it enticingly complex. The first sip hit my tongue and left me appreciative of Charlotte’s tastes in vintages. “Or, rather, I can on your behalf. I can also arrange upgrades for you as well, if you’d like. Internet, new fixtures, whatever you’d like; assuming you can finance it.”

“Money isn’t an issue. Those mages left a couple tons of gold squirreled away in one of the hidden rooms in my basement.”

I snorted very unbecomingly into my wine glass. “Did you say
tons
of gold?”

“They weren’t building a sanctuary and hiding from the law without good reason,” Charlotte replied.

“If you have all that money, and the ability to keep yourself repaired, then why open a bed and breakfast in the first place?”

“Same reason everyone reaches out, I guess. I was lonely.” Charlotte ran a hand along the armrest of her hand-carved chair. “When the mages were gone, I was all by myself. That’s no way to live, not even for something like me. I could have been a haunted house that scared people away, but I wanted company. So I became a place where people would enjoy themselves, make fond memories, and come back to visit. I know, kind of crazy given how big of a secret I was keeping.”

“No, Charlotte. I don’t think that’s crazy at all. I’ll do my best to keep you running and get people to visit. I know how it feels to be lonely, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, let alone a new friend.”

Charlotte smiled, and a glass of wine appeared in her hand as well. She raised it up and tilted it slightly toward me. “I’ll cheers to that.”

We clinked glasses, despite one of them being illusionary, and took our drinks. It didn’t matter that hers was fake, or that the image she was putting in front of my eyes was equally illusory. The sentiment was real, and that was far more important than a silly thing like corporeality.

A Dragon in the Office
1.

Despite my admittedly formal manner of dress, I was not practiced in the art of the bow tie. It had never been a skill that required cultivation, as I’d always gone with a classic tie knotted in a full Windsor for work and formal occasions in my youth. (It certainly didn’t help that the few occasions which might have necessitated such a fashion accessory were ones that required a passable level of social ability to attend—such as prom, or a friend’s wedding.) Therefore, I found myself faced with the increasingly frustrating task of trying to weave a proper bow tie from the single piece of fabric wound around my neck and failing spectacularly at it.

There was a knock on my bedroom door, followed immediately by the sound of it opening. It invalidated the entire point of the knock, but I was thankful for the gesture. Krystal could be indelicate at times; that was her way of at least giving me some warning.

She was a vision of loveliness, to the point where I found my old shyness creeping back the longer I looked at her. Krystal, the girl perpetually in jeans, had donned a form-fitting red dress that crossed in the back, leaving much of her skin exposed. Her hair had been curled ever so slightly, and then piled atop her head in a way that somehow managed to be messy, yet simultaneously elegant. She’d even put on a little extra makeup, accentuating her already striking features. Those same features twisted into a spontaneous bout of laughter as she took in my situation and the frustration evident on my face.

“No luck so far?” She was keeping her giggles down, but it took obvious effort.

“That infernal internet video made it look so simple. But every time I try, it comes out lopsided. At best.” Despite the growing desire to stamp my foot like a petulant child, I held my calm. I’d been out of place or felt silly before; another night of it wouldn’t kill me.

“Does this mean the proud, mighty vampire is finally willing to accept the help of my dainty woman hands?” Krystal asked, moving a few steps closer to me.

“I never said anything like that. I just said the others would likely need more help than I would.”

“You weren’t wrong there; Albert had his cummerbund on backwards, Neil tried to show up in formal necromancer robes, and Amy spilled a potion that made her dress keep shifting colors. It finally settled on periwinkle, which doesn’t match her shoes, but at this point, I’m taking what I can get.”

“At least it sounds like Bubba didn’t give you any trouble,” I pointed out.

Krystal shook her head, using such force that I was momentarily concerned her hair would come out of its carefully constructed shape. “Bubba was the worst of the lot. Yes, he knows how to put on a tuxedo, but he wouldn’t stop bitching about it the entire time. I had to bribe him with a case of beer just to get him down to grumbling. If this were an event by anyone but Richard, I think he’d have bailed.”

Thinking about it, if any of us were less inclined toward formal wear than Krystal, it was Bubba. I scarcely ever saw him outside of his worn clothes and beaten baseball caps. It would have been strange to see him in something as formal as a sport coat; a tuxedo might just blow people’s minds.

“Since you have managed to wrangle the rest of our friends into presentable shape, I humbly request your expert intervention.” I pulled on both ends of what was supposed to be a bow tie, bringing the fabric taught. “Please tie this damned thing for me. I’m quickly running out of patience, and I’m afraid I might accidentally rip it soon.”

“We can’t have that. These things are rentals, after all.” Krystal turned me toward the mirror as she stood behind me. She pressed herself against my back—certainly closer than was necessary—but I didn’t object. Much as I could be reticent about affection, her playful enthusiasm and penchant for embarrassing me had grown to be a counterbalance. It was one of the many things I adored about her, and from the nimble way her hands worked, it seemed I would have to be adding competency with bow ties to the list.

“Are you nervous?” Her mouth was so close that I could feel her breath run across the back of my ear.

“Certainly not, we’re just walking into a room full of parahumans who are all of such power and importance that Richard invited them into his home for a formal occasion. What possible thing could I have to fear in a situation like that?”

“You’ll be fine; there are rules to these things. Besides, it’s not like everyone is a heavy-hitter. Some of the guests are just like you and Amy, people he has business relationships with. And there are some that are attending out of form, like inviting me because I’m an agent or Albert and Neil because they’re tied to a weapon of destiny.”

“Those latter examples are a zombie wielding a weapon of tremendous power, the necromancer who multiplies his strength, and an agent, one of the most feared beings in the parahuman world,” I pointed out. “Not exactly a strong case for most of the guests being ‘not heavy-hitters,’ as you said.”

“You think most people in my league have time to go to a party celebrating two therian packs finally finishing a peaceful merger? My point is that Albert, Neil, and I are going for the same reason as you and Amy: because we like Richard as a person. The vast majority of the guests will be therians, and while they aren’t super keen on vampires, no one would try to hurt one of the other guests. It would be an insult to Richard as a host.” Krystal finished weaving the formerly shapeless fabric into an exquisite bow tie, symmetrical and crisp in every measurable capacity. “Besides, if worse ever came to worse, Gideon is there, and I think he sees you as more useful alive than permanently dead.”

“I fear you may overestimate his affection for me,” I said. With my bow tie on, I reached over to a nearby hanger and slid my jacket, the final piece of my ensemble, across my narrow shoulders.

“You saved Richard a lot of money. Dragons love gold, that isn’t just myth, and anyone who brings more of it into their proximity can’t be all bad. Hell, that might be as close as they get to having friends.” Krystal stepped back, admiring me now that I was fully adorned in the required wear of the evening. “You know, you clean up pretty nice.”

“I would take more comfort in that notion if I weren’t so keenly aware of the fact that I’m going to be walking in with the absolute definition of beauty. How well I clean up is unimportant; no one will even realize I’m there once they see you.”

Krystal stared at me for a moment, then did something I was completely unprepared for. She blushed. Only a touch in the cheeks and for no more than a few seconds, but it was unmistakable. The rising of blood is not the sort of thing my vampire senses were likely to overlook. Then, as quickly as it was there, it was gone, hidden in a flurry of movement as she stepped closer and kissed me firmly on the lips. By the time I pulled free, there was no trace of those red cheeks. Instead, she wore her usual half-wild grin.

“Keep up the sweet talk, and I’ll end up making us late for this thing.”

“Wonderful as that sounds, I would be too embarrassed to leave this room if the others heard us . . . being affectionate. Which would be unavoidable, since at least two of them have enhanced hearing, possibly three depending on which potions Amy has taken so far today.”

“Actually, I sent the kids off to school,” Krystal replied, gently teasing one of the buttons on my pressed, white tuxedo shirt. “I thought it might be nice if we went over together, just the two of us. It’s been awhile since we managed a real date, and since I’ve got an out-of-town gig coming up, we probably won’t pull one off for another week or so.”

“I’ll have to plan something special for your return, then.” I gently ran my hand across Krystal’s cheek, perhaps unconsciously trying to sense the heat that had been there only minutes before.

“Please do. I like hanging out with the gang as much as anyone else, but even I like some romance from time to time. Just . . . you know the deal.”

“No reservations that can’t be canceled,” I said.

She nodded and took a step back, finally breaking the half-embrace we’d locked ourselves in since she fixed my bow tie. “Yeah. I hate that we have to make that a rule, but I never know when a call is going to come.”

“You don’t ever need to feel bad for doing your job. We came into this with open eyes. I knew who I was committing to. Sometimes, I have to let plans fall away due to your more pressing matters; sometimes, you have to watch movies that don’t have slapstick or explosions with me. We’ve all got our burdens to bear.”

“It could be worse,” Krystal conceded. “At least you clean up nice. Just don’t get too comfy in that tux.”

“I daresay it would take a mage of legendary caliber to make such a thing viable, so I doubt it will be an issue.”

“Good, because Albert is staying with Neil tonight, which means we’ve got the apartment all to ourselves.” She threw me a glance that, even on my least socially adept day, I could have correctly interpreted. After having been with her for so many months, I knew its meaning in an instant.

“Ah, um, right. Yes.” I would love to report that I’d reached a point where I was finally less bumbling when it came to discussing intimate matters; however, such was simply not the case, as my swarthy dialogue proves.

“Whoa there. Put a leash on it, you wild animal. We’ve got to get through a party first.” Krystal shifted gears from sultry to playful, trading her telling leer for a flirty wink before I’d even finished recovering.

“I believe, when tuxedos are involved, it’s called a gala,” I said.

“Fred, I’ve been to a few ‘galas,’ and trust me on this: no one will ever call a therian party a gala, no matter how fancy they make the guests dress. Now, shake that cute ass. If you’re late to these things, all the good food is gone.”

Krystal slipped her arm through mine, pulled open the bedroom door, and the two of us headed out, en route to what was supposed to be a lovely party surrounded by a few friends and a myriad of potentially deadly strangers.

I only found it mildly disconcerting how normal that situation seemed at the time.