The Dark-Hunters, page 205
“I’d rather not. I might step in something and then I might bring it home and smell it all night.”
She gave him a disgusted look that he took in stride.
“You’re the only woman I know who can smell this rancid air and think it pleasant.”
She shut the gate. “Close your eyes, Valerius, or your nose might be the only part of you that is in working order tomorrow.”
Valerius wasn’t sure if he should obey her or not, but he found himself reluctantly doing so as he drew up short.
“Now take a deep breath,” she said, her sultry voice in his ear. It sent a shiver over him as he did it.
“Do you smell the dampness of the river with a hint of Cajun gumbo scenting it? Not to mention the Spanish moss?”
He opened his eyes. “All I smell is urine, rotten seafood, and river slime.”
She gaped at him. “How can you say that?”
“Because it’s what I smell.”
She growled at him as she got into the car. “You’re a tough sell, you know that?”
“I’ve been called worse.”
Her gaze turned serious and sad. “I know you have. But new times are upon you. I’m taking that stick up your butt out and tonight we’re going to cut loose, kick Daimon ass, and—”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked in an offended tone. “The what up my where?”
“You heard me,” she said with a wicked smile. “You know, half the problem people have with you is that you don’t laugh much and you take yourself and everything else way too seriously.”
“Life is serious.”
“No,” she said, her passion glowing in her blue gaze. “Life is an adventure. It’s thrilling and scary. Sometimes it’s even a bit boring, but it should never be serious.”
Tabitha saw the hesitancy in his eyes. He was so unused to trusting people and for some reason, she wanted him to trust her. “Come with me, General Valerius, and let me show you just what life can really be and why it’s so damned important that we save the world.”
She watched as he opened the door handle like a man who was touching a baby’s dirty diaper. She’d never seen anyone sneer more. It was quite impressive.
But he didn’t say anything more as he got into the car and she dropped it into gear and squealed away from the curb.
Valerius wasn’t expecting much to come of this night; but he had to admit that he did like the vibrancy of this woman. The zeal with which she lived. She was fascinating to watch. No wonder Ash had befriended her.
When one was an immortal, the freshness of life had a way of dying even more quickly than one’s body had. As the centuries blended together, it was easy to forget the human side of oneself. To remember why humanity needed saving.
It was hard to remember how to laugh. Then again, laughter and Valerius were virtual strangers. Until Tabitha, he’d never really shared a laugh with anyone.
Tabitha had the enthusiasm of a child. Somehow she had managed to hold on to her youthful ideals even in the face of a world that didn’t entirely accept her. She truly didn’t care what he, or anyone else, thought of her. She went through her life doing what she needed to do and handling everything on her own terms.
How he envied her that.
She was a powerful force to be reckoned with.
Valerius laughed in spite of himself.
“What?” she asked as she whipped the car around a corner so fast that she practically threw him into her seat.
He righted himself. “I was just thinking someone should name you Hurricane Tabitha.”
She snorted. “You’re too late. My mother already did. Actually, she named me that the first time she visited my dorm room and saw the chaos of me without my sister Amanda around to pick up after me. You should be grateful that after twelve years of living on my own, I finally learned to pick up for myself.”
He shuddered at the thought. “Truly, I am grateful.”
She cut the car sharply into the Jackson Brewery parking lot and whipped it into a parking space that wasn’t really supposed to be a parking space.
“The police will tow the car.”
“Nah,” she said as she shut it off and placed a small silver medallion on the dashboard that had her name engraved on it. “This is Ed’s route and he knows better. I’ll get my sister to hex him and his brother if he tries.”
“Ed?”
“One of the cops assigned here. He keeps an eye out for me. We used to go to high school together and he dated my older sister, Karma, for years.”
“You have a sister named Karma?” Valerius asked.
“Yes and it’s very apt. She has a nasty tendency to come back and hurt anyone who does her wrong whenever they least expect it. She’s like the big, black spider, lying in wait.” The words weren’t nearly as amusing as the gesture Tabitha made where she held her hands up and nibbled like a rabid mouse. “Just when you think you’re safe from her wrath … bam!” She slapped her hands together. “She knocks your feet out from under you and leaves you lying on the floor, bleeding profusely.”
“I do hope you’re joking.”
“Not at all. She’s a scary woman, but I love her.”
Valerius got out of the car, then paused as a thought occurred to him. Every time he turned around, she pulled out another relative. “Just how many sisters do you have?”
“Eight.”
“Eight?” he asked, stunned at the number. No wonder he couldn’t keep them all straight. He wondered how she did.
Tabitha nodded. “Tiyana who goes by Tia. Selena and Amanda you know. Then there’s Esmerelda, or Essie, as we call her. Yasmina or Mina. Petra, Ekaterina who goes by Trina mostly, and Karma who refuses to have a nickname.”
Valerius gave a low whistle at her roll call.
“What?” Tabitha asked.
“I’m just pitying whatever poor males lived in that house with all of you. It must have been truly frightening at least one week out of every month.”
She gaped, then laughed out loud. “Was that a joke from you?”
“Merely a frightening statement of fact.”
“Yeah, right. Well, truth be told, my father did spend a lot of time at work during that time of the month and he did make sure that all our pets were males so that he wouldn’t feel too terribly outnumbered. What about you? Did you have any sisters?”
He shook his head as she joined him over on the passenger side of the car and they headed toward Decatur Street. “I only had brothers.”
“Whoa, just imagine if your father had married my mother, we’d have had the Brady Bunch.”
He scoffed at her. “Hardly. Believe me, my family made the Borgias look like Ozzie and Harriet.”
She cocked her head at him. “For a man who prides himself on being prim and proper, you certainly know a lot of pop icons.”
He didn’t comment.
“So how many brothers did you have?” she asked, surprising him with her quick return to their previous topic.
He started not to answer and yet it came out before he could stop himself. “Until a couple of years ago, I thought I only had four.”
“What happened then?”
“I found out that Zarek was one of them, too.”
Tabitha frowned at his disclosure. “You didn’t know while you were alive?”
Guilt and anger tore through Valerius at her innocent question. He really should have known. Had he ever bothered to look at Zarek when they were human …
But then, he was his father’s son.
“No,” he said sadly, “I didn’t.”
“Yet you knew him?”
“He was a slave in our house.”
She looked aghast. “But he was your brother?”
He nodded.
Tabitha was as confused as he’d been the night he learned the truth. “How could you not know?”
“You don’t understand the world I lived in. You didn’t question certain things. When my father spoke, it was truth. You didn’t look at servants, and Zarek … he wasn’t recognizable in those days.”
Tabitha felt a wave of grief so profound that it made her ache with him. She wrapped her arm around his and gave a light squeeze.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m standing beside you so that Zarek won’t whack you again with another lightning bolt. You said he wouldn’t hurt innocent people, right?”
“Yes.”
She smiled at him. “Call me Shield.”
Valerius smiled in spite of himself as he placed a hand on her forearm. “You’re such a strange woman.”
“Yeah, but I’m growing on you, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are.”
Her smile widened. “Fungus are us. Next thing you know, you’ll actually like me.”
The problem was, he already did like her. A lot more than he should.
“Where are we going?” he asked as she scooted him down Decatur toward Iberville and away from where they might run into one of the crew who begrudged him every breath he took.
“Well, it’s early still, so I figured an early perimeter check followed by an intense search of the Abyss, which is a club I am sure you have never stepped foot into. A lot of Apollites like to hang there and I’ve dusted quite a few Daimons in and about the area.”
“Isn’t that one of the clubs Acheron frequents?”
“Yes, but since he’s in the cemeteries, I have a feeling the Daimons will be congregating where they think it’s safe.”
He couldn’t argue that.
Tabitha led him over to the Magnolia Café.
“Are you hungry again?” he asked in disbelief as she entered the restaurant.
“No.”
“Then why are we in here?”
“Don’t worry about it.” She went to the counter and ordered five meals to go.
Valerius was completely baffled as he glanced around what most people would call a “homey” place. It had red-and-white checked plastic tablecloths and small tables and chairs that someone might find in a normal home.
It most definitely wasn’t the kind of place Valerius ate at, but it did look like Tabitha’s cup of tea.
When the orders were ready, Tabitha grabbed them up and led the way back to the street.
Valerius followed behind her, curious about what she was going to do with them.
His curiosity ended in a dark alley. She left the bags of food, then pulled him out by the arm. He heard people scurrying in the darkness.
“You’re feeding the homeless,” he said quietly.
She nodded.
“Do you do this a lot?”
“Every night about this time.”
He pulled her to a stop and stared at her. “Why?”
“Someone has to.” When he opened his mouth to speak, she placed her hand over his lips. “I know all the arguments, Val. Why should they work when people like me are willing to feed them for free? You can’t save the world. Let someone else take care of them, etc. But I can’t do it. Every night when I come out here, I know they’re there and I know they’re in pain. One of the men, Martin, was at one time a prominent business owner who got sued and lost everything. His wife divorced him and took the kids. And since he had dropped out of high school and was fifty-six when he had to go bankrupt, no one would hire him. He worked for me in my store, but it wasn’t enough to support him and he didn’t want to take charity, so he slept in alleys. I wanted to give him a raise so badly, but if I did that, I’d have to give one to everyone and I can’t afford to pay every part-time employee in my store thirty thousand dollars a year.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything about that, Tabitha,” he said quietly. “I only wanted to tell you that your compassion for other people overwhelms me.”
“Oh.” She offered him a tenuous smile. “I’m just used to people condemning everything I do.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I don’t condemn you, my lady. I only admire you.”
Her smile turned full fledged and floored him. She squeezed his hand with hers, then did the most unexpected thing of all. She put her arm around his waist and started walking down the street with him.
Valerius felt so strange. He’d seen lovers do this for centuries, but had never had anyone do it with him. Hesitantly, he draped his arm over her shoulders and just let the warmth of her body and touch seep into him.
There were no words for what he felt right now. It was a very common thing they were doing. People shouldn’t touch so intimately in public. And yet he’d never known a better feeling than to have this odd woman by his side.
The breeze brushed strands of her hair over his hand. It was soft and light and brought images to his mind that he shouldn’t have of her wild in his bed. Untamed.
And it played havoc with his body.
They didn’t speak much as they walked through the dark city where the humans went about their business oblivious to the danger that was hanging over them. It was eerily peaceful.
It was a little after midnight when they made their way over to Toulouse Street. The Abyss wasn’t the typical New Orleans club scene. It was dark and far from inviting like most of the more touristy places that beckoned the mainstream inside.
Tabitha led him down a long alleyway that was narrow and a bit spooky in feel.
“Hey, Tabby,” a tall, African-American man greeted her as he was checking the IDs of the couple in front of them. He was bald with tattoos marking every inch of exposed flesh … even his hands.
“Hi, Ty,” Tabitha said. “How’s it going tonight?”
“Not bad,” he said with a wink as he waved the couple in. “Who’s your friend?” he asked, raking Valerius with a frown.
“Val. He’s a friend of Ash and Simi’s, too.”
“No shit?” Ty said before he extended his hand to Valerius. “Ty Gagne. Nice to meet you.”
Valerius shook his hand. “You, too.”
“You two have fun, and Tabby, no weapons tonight, deal?”
“Yeah, yeah, Ty. No bloodshed. Gotcha.”
Once inside the club, Valerius was taken aback by the sea of black-garbed humans. It looked like a Dark-Hunter convention. It was extremely easy to pick out the tourists who had stumbled inadvertently into the club or maybe had been dared into it. There were more body piercings and tattoos than he’d ever seen in one room in his entire two thousand years of living.
Many of the regulars knew Tabitha on sight.
“Hi, Vlad,” Tabitha said to one emaciated, tall man with skin so pale it was translucent. He wore a white ruffled shirt, blood-red velvet tuxedo jacket, and black slacks. His long, black hair hung around his gaunt face, and his eyes were covered by a pair of round, black sunglasses.
“Good evening, Tabitha,” the man said, before he smiled to show Valerius a set of fangs. He saluted them with a brandy snifter that looked like it held blood. Valerius’s Dark-Hunter sense could tell it was red vodka. Vlad’s long, skinny fingers were covered with silver claws.
Valerius felt an urge to laugh and show the man his own set of real fangs, but refrained.
“Vlad is a fifteenth-century vampire,” she told Valerius.
“Son to Vlad Tepes and named for my esteemed father,” Vlad explained in a faked Transylvanian accent.
“Really?” Valerius said. “I find that fascinating since Vlad’s only son, Radu, was slain by the Turks when he was eighteen. Vlad’s only surviving child was a daughter, Esperetta, who now lives in Miami.”
“Vlad” rolled his eyes. “Really, Tabitha, where do you find these people?”
Valerius did laugh as the fake vampire drifted off.
Tabitha joined him. “Seriously,” she said, sobering. “Is there any truth to that bull you just spieled?”
He nodded. “Ask Ash. Retta’s husband was made into a Dark-Hunter around 1480, I believe, and she followed him over. Her husband is one of the few Dark-Hunters who will actually speak to me in a civil tone.”
“Kewl!” Tabitha stepped back as another Goth princess walked between them.
She indicated a stairway with the tilt of her head. “There are three bars here and an area called the Library. Daimons are usually found lurking in the Library or the Sound bar. The other two are the Main bar and the Aphrodite bar. Oh, and I should probably warn you that Eros and Psyche tend to haunt the Aphrodite bar as well, so you might want to leave that to me in case they show up.”
“Hey, Tabby!” a plump blonde said as she grabbed Tabitha in an overbearing hug. “You seen any vampires tonight?”
“Hi, Carly,” she said, casting an amused look at Valerius. “Not tonight. Why?”
“Well, if you find one, send him my way. I’m ready to be bitten and made immortal.”
Tabitha rolled her eyes. “I told you they can’t do that. It’s a Hollywood myth.”
“Yeah, well, I wanna be mythitized. So if you find one, tell him I’m in the Library, waiting.”
“Okay,” she said with a nod. “I’ll do it.”
“Thanks, doll.”
Valerius rubbed his eyebrow as the blonde woman left them. “You know a lot of interesting people.”
She laughed at him. “This from someone who takes orders from a man who’s been walking around for almost twelve thousand years, not to mention that you actually do know the daughter of Count Dracula. I don’t want to hear it from you, buddy.”
She had a point with that.
“Could you relax?” She tugged his coat collar up before she untied and then started mussing his hair.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to make you blend in. It would certainly help if you didn’t look like you were constipated right now.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“C’mon,” she said, brushing her hand against his lips as she tried to smooth them. “Stop curling your lip and looking like you’re afraid you’re going to catch something. It’s not like you can die or anything.”
“You’re the one who should be worried.”
She made a rude noise at him. “This from a man whose culture actually invented bulimia. Tell me, how many times did you visit the old vomitorium anyway?”
“We didn’t all do that, thank you.”
“Yeah, right.” She drifted off.
