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I don’t wake up again until a quarter past five, so I only have time to quickly brush my teeth and put on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a royal blue mack before I run out the door to meet Amanda. As predictable as a girl desperate to attract a man can be, Amanda is dolled up to the nines. It’s actually surprising because she never was one to go out of her way to please a man. It must be that special vampire attraction that has her acting out of character.
Her electric blue hair is stylishly messy, her eyes are charcoal black, and she’s wearing a stunning purple dress with shiny black heels. Next to her I feel as plain as a Jane could feel, but my task here isn’t to impress, I’m here to set a very sexist record straight. I will not allow a man I hardly know to tell me what I can and cannot do, even if he is a vampire.
As we take off from outside the café, I lock eyes with a man who has just sat down at a table by the window. He’s handsome, with light brown crew cut hair, dark eyebrows and bright blue eyes. He’s medium height and well built, and for the first few seconds after our eyes meet I don’t actually remember where I know him from, but I would swear that he’s smirking at me.
Then, a moment later, as I walk with Amanda in the direction of Crimson, the penny finally drops. I’ve seen the man in the café before. The man in the café is a vampire slayer. The slayer I begged Ethan not to kill. The only man left alive in that industrial estate last night. And just like Ethan told me, he’s obviously not going to quit hunting him until one of them is dead. That’s clear from the fact that he’s eating in a café not two minutes away from Ethan’s night club. I wonder if he really was smirking at me. The expression is decidedly sinister since I know that he works as a killer for a living, at the very least it’s a weekend hobby of his.
He must have recognised me, he wouldn’t have glanced at me with such fierce eyes if he hadn’t. An intention lay in those eyes. I’m just not entirely sure what it was.
What kind of determination does it take to keep coming after your prey, even when you have witnessed it devour five of your comrades? Should I warn Ethan that the slayer is back already? I’m torn between the two opposing sides, and I can’t decide who needs protection from the other more. Ethan is without a doubt well capable of taking care of himself. And I know that if I tell him of the slayer’s current proximity there’s a good chance he’ll march straight to the café and snuff out the threat. I don’t think I could live with myself knowing that a man got killed because I ratted him out. So I conclude for now that it’s best if I keep my mouth shut.
I press the buzzer on the big steel entrance door to Crimson, and it only takes a minute before we hear the locks turning over and then Delilah’s scarlet curls fill the doorway to greet us. This is the first time I’ve seen her dressed down, she’s wearing tight pale jeans and a black string top with a pair of bright pink Sketchers. In her current outfit, I can truly see how young Delilah appears. To the ordinary bystander she looks like an average sixteen or seventeen year old girl, however, she could be well over one hundred years old for all I know.
“Hello Tegan,” she says, with something of a knowing smile. Ethan has clearly filled her in on last night’s events.
“Hey Delilah, I – um, I’m supposed to be meeting with Ethan.” I say nervously, the dhamphir is like a lion in the guise of a lamb, it’s difficult not to feel wary of her, but enthralled all at the same time.
“Yes I know,” she replies, her sharp green eyes dart from me and land on Amanda. “Who’s this?” she asks, cocking an eyebrow.
“I’m Amanda, Tegan’s friend,” says Amanda, a little bit shyly. Despite her apparent youth to an unknowing human, Delilah is still as intimidating as a fifty year old correction school head mistress.
“I don’t care whose friend you are honey, you aren’t coming in,” says Delilah dismissively, then she turns to me. “Tegan, are you coming or what?”
“No, not if my friend can’t come with me.” I tell her, my statement final.
Delilah sighs. “Fine. But she’ll have to wait at the bar. We’ve got – guests in the office.”
“What do you mean by guests?” I ask, suspiciously.
“You’ll see,” is all she says before leading us into the windowless night club.
Crimson hasn’t opened for business yet, so Amanda has to sit and wait at the empty bar alone. Delilah doesn’t even offer her a drink. Rude. But then what should I expect from a half vampire? Seemingly hospitality wasn’t one of the human traits she carried along. When I enter the office I lay my eyes on the last two people I expected to find in the office of Ethan Cristescu. Marcel and Gabriel.
Chapter Eight
The Very Messy Details
Marcel and Gabriel are both sitting in the two chairs directly opposite Ethan’s sleek, black, imposing desk. Lucas and another man with dark brown hair are standing off to one side of the room beside the leather couch. The new guy has the kind of laid back beauty similar to that of Ethan and Lucas, so I’m guessing that he too is a vampire.
A sliver of guilt runs through me. Have I gotten Marcel and Gabriel into trouble through their association with me? At this moment I feel like a walking talking smashed mirror. Seven years bad luck.
Delilah closes the door behind us as we enter the room, and I ask cautiously, “What’s going on here?”
Ethan, who has been standing at the head of his desk flicking a silver coin back and forth between his fingers with expert precision, is the first to answer me.
“Hello beautiful, take a seat,” he gestures toward a chair against the wall, opposite to where Lucas and the other man are standing.
“Okay,” I say hesitantly. The tension in the room is palpable. “But that still doesn’t answer my question,” I sit down on the cold metal chair. “Why have you brought Marcel and Gabriel here?”
Marcel looks at me sympathetically, as though it’s his fault that this uncomfortable meeting is taking place. Gabriel is staring at Ethan and the phrase if looks could kill springs to mind. I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of those dirty looks, but Ethan seems one hundred per cent unaffected by the obvious hostility in Gabriel’s gaze.
Ethan clears his throat. “Well Tegan, as you have recently been so unfortunate to discover, we vampires are not merely the creation of myth and legend. We are very real, and our kind has populated the city of Tribane for many centuries now. I have told you some things about our existence, but not nearly all of it. That is why I have asked you to come here.” He pauses a moment, perhaps to make sure I understand. I give a little nod of my head for him to continue, I don’t know if my voice is up to functioning at the moment.
Ethan begins to speak again. “Through your discovery of our existence you have inadvertently become involved in our society, and so, you must know what this involvement entails. There are rules to this world and those rules need to be followed.” Ethan’s voice is direct and informative; there is none of the warmth he sometimes shows me. He continues, “For you this city is open, as a human you are not attached to our world, and therefore, neither are you obligated to obey our rules. You may come and go as you please. But for us, there is and always has been segregation.”
“What do you mean by segregation?” I ask. “You’re all vampires after all, is it some sort of gang affiliation thing?” and at this my attention is drawn to Marcel and Gabriel. Are they vampires too? They must be if they are here listening to all of this as if they’ve known it all their lives. I seem to be the only one this information is new to. Maybe my new employer is part of an enemy gang and that’s why Ethan was angered when I told him who I was working for.
There is the ghost of a smile on Ethan’s face. “No we are not members of any gang. If you would allow me to continue I will explain what I mean by segregation.”
