Counting Costs, page 17
part #3 of Supernatural Vigilante Society Series
With Frankie taking Sarah and Levi out shopping for school uniforms today, there’s nobody to run to The Belfry and get my supplies so I can literally put on my face. Scott’s got exactly the same errand today over at Cranston West. And I’m not asking Esther, not with Frankie’s stash of alchemical gadgets lurking who knows where in this house. No, I’m stuck up mirror creek without a reflection.
Showers usually invigorate me like coffee used to. But this time I get out feeling like a slowly leaking helium balloon. I’ll just have to be careful not to sit where I’ll be seen in a mirror. But that’s a lot to think about along with everything else. And who knows what kind of mental shape I’ll be in after helping Zack.
I dry off, then drop the towel in the hamper and wrap myself in a robe. The hallway floor feels almost icy under my shower-warmed feet. It used to be a far less novel experience, having cold feet in the literal sense. But figuratively it seems I’m always having reservations. Good thing they aren’t at a fancy restaurant because I can’t eat food anymore anyway.
Now I’m getting down in the dumps again. This always seems to happen at some point no matter what fine mess I’ve gotten myself into. I pull on my clothes anyway.
At least I can multitask in my misery.
"You're cutting it close, Tino." Frankie raises his eyebrows, giving me a concerned look as he opens the door for Zack Milano.
"I know, but don't worry." I hold my hand out, welcoming Zack in with a gesture. "Maya and I will have this all set in time for our home visit with Gina."
"Home visit?" Now it's Zack's turn to raise his eyebrows. But he looks like a GQ model when he does this, unlike Frankie, whose charm is more quirky than anything else.
"Yeah, that's right." I shrug. "It's kind of what you gotta do when you're trying to get custody of an orphaned high school freshman."
"Wow, Tino." Zack shakes his head. "Now I've seen everything. You? A dad? Who'd have thought, huh?"
"Oh, I'm not one yet. We'll see how it goes."
"The second you're done down here, come back up." Frankie taps his foot on the top step of the basement stairs. "I need to do something about this door before Gina gets here."
"Will do." I realize Frankie is being cautious, not mentioning the supernatural in front of Zack. Which makes sense. Zack is a magician though he doesn't remember it yet. And if something goes wrong, we can't exactly tell him anything we wouldn't say in front of a regular mortal.
Frankie swings the door shut. I take that as my cue to lead Zack down the hall and into the laundry area where Maya sits waiting on one end of the sofa. I gesture at the middle cushion. Zack glances at Maya, then at me, and blinks. Clearly he's wondering what I'm doing with a looker like her. But it's none of his business. No, I'm wrong. It's totally his business, or it will be once we get started with the psychic transfer of his missing memories.
"Have a seat." I'd forgotten that Zack Milano doesn't take hints very well. Either he doesn't get them, or he's one stubborn calabrese son of a bitch. My money's on the latter.
"Okay." Zack hitches up the legs of his khaki pants before resting his rear on the solid yet shabby sofa. "So you found someone? Is she a witness?" He jerks his thumb over his shoulder in Maya's direction.
Maya throws back her head and laughs. She's holding her sides, not merely giggling, but letting out an honest to goodness guffaw. I smile, feeling my face stretch to the point of a faint ache. Maya's laughter is a thing to behold, possibly one of the seven wonders of the world. Well, at least that's my biased opinion, anyway.
But it looks like Zack's got a similar mindset. He smiles too even though I know for sure he's not in on the joke. But Zack was always the kind of guy to take a good laugh wherever he found it. It's one of the reasons I never could hate him despite our long rivalry.
"Okay. That's enough from the peanut gallery." I shake my finger in Maya's general direction, grinning as I take my seat. "Let's get this show on the road."
"So, where was I? What was I doing?" Zack leans back on the sofa, clearly waiting for some sort of long-winded explanation from yours truly.
"I was going to tell you, but I think it's better for you to see it yourself."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I've got some unconventional methods that you don't understand right now. But don't worry, you will in the next few minutes." I smile, trying to reassure Zack and maybe myself. There's no guarantee this will work, after all. But I overdo it because of course I do. He sees my fangs.
"Um, no." Zack leans forward, his heart rate increasing. I can tell his flight reflex is about to kick in.
"Yup." My arm darts out, my hand closing around his upper arm to keep him in the seat. "I'm honoring my commitment, whether you like how I do it or not. Trust me on this, you absolutely need this information back and this is the best way to do it."
"What the fuck are you, Tino?" Zack's voice is higher pitched than usual, tight and strained. By now he's realized the strength in my grip is inhuman.
"Don't worry." Maya's voice sounds soft and low, like she's singing a lullaby to a child. Maybe she is after a fashion. "It won't hurt, I promise."
As her hand closes over Zack's wrist, I feel a thread. No, it's more like a presence. Some small part of Maya's consciousness runs through Zack and into me, then back toward her again. It's like she's strung all our psyches on a thread like beads. With Maya's special power, our minds connect, three parts into a whole. I never thought I'd be opening my consciousness to Zack Milano, of all people. And definitely not in this literal a fashion.
I sense Maya's presence the way you'd feel someone playing with your hair. It's a gentle, yet firm. She all but tells me she's searching for something. The memories I absorbed from Zack's urn, of course. It takes her some time and I feel her help me break through more than one smoky gray barrier of resistance. As the two of us move past that fog of forgetfulness, I realize it's not isolated to this one memory. Which makes sense.
"Was this damage here from Carmine?"
"If that's what the Lethian plaguing you calls himself, then yes."
"And what about this?" I indicate another patch of scratched-off impressions.
"Yes. All the tampering in here comes from the same creature."
I've got nothing. Because from what I can sense with Maya's guidance in this section of my mind, the damage is extensive. Is this how a dementia patient feels when they see a scan of their brain, with areas misfiring and plaques interfering?
Was I terrified of the potential to outlive my friends before? No. Not compared with the idea of walking the earth indefinitely, unable to remember any of them. I feel a deep and compelling urge to walk back into the sun proof room, lay down, and sleep forever.
"No Tino." Maya's voice is like that feeling you get when you walk into your house after a long day.
"Why not?"
"There's plenty of time for that in a decade or three. Stay with me, please."
"Okay." If it weren't Maya asking, I might not have had the strength to resist the urge to hibernate. Or whatever it is vampires call it. But she wants me around whether I remember everything or nothing. That's more powerful than a room full of magicians preparing for war. Not that I've ever seen anything like that. Or want to.
Moments later, Maya finds what she's looking for. I recognize it, wondering how I could ever have forgotten. It's Zack's memory, the one I got from Mnemosyne's vault. And a little something extra, too.
I'm moving away. There's no other way to describe the sensation or what's happening. I'm going out of myself, and not like those crazy kids in the Flatliners movie. I'd freak out, maybe even rage, but Maya's there. She's the one taking me on this crazy trip.
And it's definitely a vacation that I hope doesn't turn permanent. Because the destination is Zack Milano's head. Or his memory to be exact.
I thought this would be simple, the scenes from the urn transferred through Maya and over to Zack. Maya senses my unspoken question and answers it with an image of people talking on the phone. And I get it. It's already secondhand for Zack, because I came between the urn and him. Too much might get lost if it's filtered a third time through Maya.
The inside of Zack's head is clearer than mine. I expected this, because along with the memory from his urn, I also recall how few sat on the shelves from his psyche. Lucky bastard.
The abstract setting turns into a visualization of the three of us on the sofa in our bodies. Except I know this is imagined. We're sitting in a row, exactly like our corporeal selves except for one difference. I'm holding the urn. I wait for one of my companions to do something. But finally, I realize it's my turn to act. I hold up the vessel in my hands and offer it to Zack.
He reaches across Maya and when his hands touch the earthenware surface, we're all thrown into the memory, exactly as I witnessed it while unconscious after the battle with Carmine. For me, it's just like watching an instant replay of a sporting event. But that isn't the case with Zack.
It changes his mind. And then later, his life.
***
"Let go."
My hand and Maya's both drop from Zack's person at exactly the same time. I'd given it no thought, hadn't even realized what was happening until the movement is complete. But Zack does. He stands, turns, extends his hands. He looks like a preacher in a pulpit.
"Zack's back, folks." He's grinning like a lunatic. No, like a megalomaniac. Is he one? I hope not. Because we just gave him back an enormous and rare power.
"How does it feel?" Maya tilts her head, the way she does when she suspects one of the Pickering kids is lying.
"Amazing." Zack reaches down with his right hand, offering it to me. "You weren't kidding, Valentino."
"So you understand now." I'm not asking him a question because I already know the answer. I'm only looking for confirmation, and maybe, if I'm lucky some sort of reassurance that I haven't gone out to help an old friend and brought back a monster.
"Oh yeah. Absolutely." He jerks his hand once, asking with the gesture for me to take it again. I figure I'd better oblige. I don't want to wait and see if he'll make me by using his magical voice.
Zack helps me up but doesn't extend the same courtesy to Maya. Once I'm standing, he reaches in the pocket of his sport coat, bringing out a smart phone. He taps, swipes, taps again, and then my own phone beeps. I realize what just happened. He's paid me the rest of my fee. Which is as it should be. The last thing I want to do is haggle with the spellsinging magician. That seems like it'd be an effort in futility.
"Thanks, Tino." Zack tucks his phone away. "You've got no idea how much this means to me."
Before I can respond, there's a knock on the basement door. Frankie, of course. I glanced down at my watch and see I've got under a minute to go before seven-thirty.
"Okay guys, it's time for me to skedaddle. You too, Zack."
"What about your lady friend here?" Zack waggles his eyebrows, clearly indicating he thinks Maya and I are an item.
"Oh, basements are my natural habitat. I'll just sit here and read." She grins. "I'm glad we could help you, Mr. Milano. See you around."
"I hope so."
I head down the hall and my ears tell me that Zack is following after. As we had up the stairs and push through the door into the kitchen, we walk past Frankie. As soon as the door closes behind us, he slaps a sticky note on the cherry stained wood surface. The door doesn't vanish, exactly. Instead it changes color, texture, and shape to match the wall.
"Neat trick, kid." Zack smirks at Frankie. "Especially for a Lamb."
"Oh cool, you got your memories back." Frankie smirks back at Zack, then punches him in the arm.
"You guys know each other?"
"Oh yeah, sure do."
"That's news to me." I'm looking at Frankie, but Zack responds to my statement first.
"Yeah, it's news to me to, even if it's technically old." He grins. "But news is my business."
"The more things change, huh Zack?"
"Yup." Zack opens his mouth like he's about to say something else, probably some snarky centuries-old inside joke that the Milanos might have had with the Pickerings for all I know. But the doorbell rings.
"Are you going to get that?" I put my hands on my hips and look at Frankie.
"Nope." He shrugs. "that's Levi's job."
"Okay." Zack may have gotten his memory back, but mine still sucks. I know Frankie must have told me the game plan at some point, but I can't for the life of me remember. "I think I might have to wing this, Frankie."
"No problem," Frankie says. "I kind of figured. And I planned for it, too."
"You really do think of everything."
"I know. Because I'm awesome."
The sound of sensible shoes echoes down the hall leading to the kitchen. I know what's coming, memory problems or not. Our interview. And I'm utterly clueless. The best I can do is follow my heart.
The door from the hall swings open, revealing Levi leading Gina Paolucci into the kitchen. He pulls a chair out for her at the large table there. I look down and noticed it's set for dinner, party of six. Shitballs. I'm going to have to sit through an actual meal with a social worker.
Before any of that happens, Gina spots Zack. Her eyes go wide and her expression changes from one of bored observation to starstruck in five seconds flat. I can almost hear the internal fangirl squee she manages to contain.
“Excuse me, but aren’t you Zack Milano?”
“Yes, I am, Miss?” He holds out one hand.
“Paolucci.” I nod, smile, and make with the introductions like the good Italian boy I am. “Gina Paolucci, this is my old buddy Zack Milano. Zack, this is Gina. She’s the sister of the best CSI in Rhode Island.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” When Zack takes her hand he doesn’t shake. Instead he lifts it and plants a kiss on the back of it. No, he’s not into her. I know Zack’s acting when I see it and this is it.
“Oh, I never expected to—” Gina’s blushing like a Sophomore getting asked to the Senior Prom. “Um, I mean, how do you two know each other?”
“Theatrical competitions, mostly.” I grin.
“Yeah.” Zack nods. “Tino here was the only guy I ever worried about beating at State.”
I’m about to go off on a long tangent about how that’s not true, how we actually kind of hated each other. But Frankie passes by with the stack of spoons he’s setting on the table and elbows my ribs. I take the not-so-subtle hint and keep my trap shut.
“And you still keep in touch after all that time?”
“Well, he’s the first person I thought of when I needed help. He just finished working a case for me.”
“Hmm.” I practically hear the gears in Gina’s mind start working again as she shifts back into Social Worker mode. “How did he do?”
“His services are outstanding. In fact, I’m not sure anyone else could have gotten me the information Tino did.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, what was the job?”
“Missing property.” Zack pulls his sleeve up, revealing his Rolex. “I gave him two weeks, hired him three days ago, and the job is done already. He deserves a speedy delivery bonus, I think.”
“Oh, definitely.” Gina smiles, tucking a lock of long dark hair behind one ear.
If I were still alive, I’d be blushing by now. I’d also feel like I just got whiplash. Did Zack really go from frenemy to fan club manager in ten minutes or am I missing something here? I stare at Zack, trying to figure out what just happened. Maybe nothing. Maybe I finally just know a guy who's kind of a big deal.
Sarah enters the room, an apron tied around her waist. Zack watches her over Gina’s shoulder, still making small talk with the social worker. He’s not looking directly at Frankie’s sister but at her hands. Can he see that she’s got magic? I keep forgetting to ask whether magicians can see that sort of thing and I’ve got no way to write it down now.
A buzzer goes off on the stovetop. Sarah puts on a pair of oven mitts and pulls a large Dutch oven out of the actual one. At least I don't need to stick my highly flammable arms in there. Sarah sets the hot dish on top of a trivet in the middle of the table, then takes the lid off. A heavenly smell rises up from the brisket, of potatoes, carrots, and brussels sprouts inside.
Now before you get on my case about thinking a non-Italian dish like beef brisket smells amazing, you gotta remember that my best friend Maury is Jewish, and I'd go to his house for dinner as often his he came to mine. This meal was a main feature on the Weintraub menu. Memories from my time coming up in Western Cranston flood my mind. A sort of peace comes over me as I remember how good I had it as a kid and how much I want that for Leora too even if I'm late to her particular party.
When I open my eyes and see Leora walk out from behind Gina, I smile. I thought the home visit would just be a glorified interview with the social worker. But watching Leora walk through the door to the kitchen at Pickering house, approaching the table to sit down for dinner, makes this place feel like home.
I almost cry. Yeah, I know it sounds lame, but I can't help it. Months ago, I used to imagine getting married, having kids, someday. But there are only somenights in my future as a vampire and definitely not any biological children. Homegrown parenthood isn't in my cards. This is my shot, I'm not throwing it away.
But it's not over yet. If I didn't think it would count against me with Gina, I'd kick myself. Why didn't I take Frankie up on his offer to eavesdrop on the Caprice's home visit? Oh yeah. I've got a code, and I'm sticking to it. This entire evening would sit much easier with me if I had that inside information though. But I don't, so all I can do is get through this interview by being the best man I can at this point in my existence.
"What a beautiful house," says Gina. "Very charming. Are these the original cabinets?"
"I wish. But no," says Frankie. "Here let me show you."
