Page 25 of Death is Familiar

Safe words in the fake vampire world were ‘holy water’ and ‘silver’, since a significant share of attendees enjoyed some predator and prey ‘play’. And apparently that meant ‘no’ was part of the game. Still, I had to give them kudos for having an entire double-sided page, dedicated to procedures for asking consent, giving consent, and how to report incidents, even if it took on a very specific theme.

Holy water and silver could stop everything from stalking to conversations to physical contact. They were a catch-all, no exceptions.

“And how will anyone know if I’m using the safe words?”

“I’ll make you cue cards.”

Todd couldn’t tell if I was joking. To be honest, neither could I. Mostly because I wasn’t sure how effective they would be.

“I’ll make the cue cards since you both have terribly illegible handwriting. Now, how are we all feeling about ‘human access’ on page…” Jack zeroed in on the page number, “…eighteen?”

Todd and I grumbled. It wasn’t our favorite. If we were lucky that would be the most unpleasant part of the evening.

In order to get invited to the ‘inner sanctum’ a vamp needed to find us interesting enough bring in. And the vamps would signify that interest by giving us a bite on the neck. Hard enough to leave a mark. The mark would grant us entry for the rest of the evening, even if the vamp lost interest.

At any other club this would have been a stamp on the hand.

The safe words still applied in this scenario, but without the bite we wouldn’t be granted entry, which meant it was a necessary discomfort.

“People like shiny things. We’re new. It shouldn’t be too hard,” I offered.

“That’s not what I was asking.”

“I don’t like it.” Todd’s response was matter-of-fact, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “I don’t like people in my personal space. I’m… uncomfortable letting someone bite my neck.”

He didn’t seem to mind when I was in his personal space. But then again, I wasn’t a stranger trying to bite into him like he was a piece of meat.

“Uncomfortable enough that we need to find an alternative?” Jack asked without judgement.

“I’ll still do it. But I don’t like it.”

With ink covering most of Todd’s neck, I doubted anyone would notice a bite mark anyway. I didn’t want to get his hopes up, but the wheels of my mind were in motion. There had to be a way to get him in without subjecting him to something that clearly made him uncomfortable.

Jack nodded. “Delilah?”

“Oh, I’ll hate every second of it, but I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again.”

“Of course you have.” Jack leaned forward, elbows on the motel room table, running his fingers through his hair. It was getting late, and we could all feel our beds calling. “Anything else you think we should know?”

“I don’t know much… I tried to stay away from vamps for obvious reasons. But these consent forms, they’re new, and they do a much more thorough job of… expectation setting. There might be some other pieces I’m forgetting, but things are coming together as we go. The problem is I don’t know how much of it is relevant, how much has changed.”

Todd flipped through a couple more pages, checking his notes, before shutting the entire consent document. “You win. Vampires suck.”

“And you haven’t even met one yet.”

Todd sat up. “The woman in the box?”

“Not a vampire.” Upon receiving two confounded looks from the agents, I clarified, “Jezebel is a familiar.”

Jack and Todd exchanged an exasperated head shake. “A what?”

“You know about tourists leaving Xs on the tomb of Marie Laveau, but you don’t know what a familiar is?” I looked to Todd for help. His response was an unhelpful shrug which meant he didn’t know either. “They’re vampire assistants. Still ‘human’, but they have some sort of formalized working relationship with their vamp.”

“And Jezebel’s vamp is Lenore?”

I nodded. “But don’t ask me how that all works because⁠—”

“—you don’t know.”