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When Mav’s old block comes into view he elbows me, pointing out his mom’s window – third from the right on the seventh floor – even though he’s shown me a thousand times already. There’s a park bench nearby that gives you the perfect view. We sit down and pop our straws through our cup’s lids.
“She had me when she was seventeen,” Mav tells me – another thing that I already knew. He pulls his feet onto the bench and tucks his knees under his chin. “We always used to celebrate our birthday together. Except while she was in nursing school but I barely remember, I was so small.”
I raise my cup towards the window. “Happy Birthday, Mav’s mom!”
He follows suit with his own cup. “Happy Birthday, mom.”
Her window is lit up with the light flicker of the TV. “Do you want to see her this time?”
He shakes his head. He never does, we always just sit on this bench watching the window. “It’s better if she thinks I’m dead.”
I want to disagree but we’ve had this discussion so many times, I know his arguments by heart. Before turning, he had leukemia. The medical bills would have probably put his mother out of a home – after she worked so hard to turn her life around for him. So he took the cheap, easy cure: becoming a vampire. He thinks she would feel guilty that he felt he needed to go down this route. I think she’d probably be glad to know her son is alive. “Alright,” I concede.
Leaning his head against my shoulder, he says, “Thanks for being here today. I’m sure you’d much rather be having steaming hot sex with your mystery woman than sitting here being bummed out by me and my sad life.”
“Eh.” I lean my head against his. “Who doesn’t like watching strangers in windows?”
***
After spending a few days running errands for Celeste, all much less intense than the previous jobs, I realize Mav and I have missed each other every day since his birthday. This happens when he works a lot but it makes me worried, anyway, especially after he got in trouble with Charon’s Veil. And since Celeste, too, has been too busy to see me, mostly leaving Mel to deal with me, I’ve had plenty of time to worry.
Seeing me on my mattress when he walks past, Pavel stops in the doorway. “It’s wednesday.”
I count out the bills from the my last pay and hand them to him.
“Where's your friend?” Pavel nods at Mav’s mattress. “He better pay me on time this week.”
“Hasn’t he been here?”
Pavel shrugs. “Not for a couple of days.” He wags a smelly sausage finger at me. “Same rules for everyone, princess, you remind him of that. He’s gotta pay or he's out.”
I nod and wait for him to leave my personal space before I pull out my phone. Nothing from Mav. “Where are you?” I type. “Rent is due. Pavel is getting pissed.”
The only unopened text I have is from Alastor. “Call me.”
I spin my phone in my hand while waiting for Mav to reply.
My phone buzzes. “Busy. Be there soon.”
His words never come true. He doesn’t show up by the time morning rolls around and Pavel pays me another unwanted visit, during which I manage to negotiate one more day for Mav.
“Are you ok?” My fingers hover over the keys for a moment, then I add, “I’m worried.”
That night, Mel and I oversee the safe arrival of a shipment of dried tarantulas, which apparently are used for purposes other than creeping me out. Here, we also meet Ibrahim, a djinn who I recognize as the man who was eavesdropping on our table that very first night at the Myrrh & Adder. He provides a soothing calm contrast to Mel’s insanity.
Mav never replies. The morning after I come home from the delivery, Pavel gets to gathering Mav’s stuff into a black rubbish bag and won’t stop until I hand him all of my newly won cash, which amounts to two-thirds of Mav’s missing rent, and plead with him to wait until he comes back.
Finally, when he still hasn’t returned after three days, I start to look for him. He still doesn’t reply to any of my texts. Even though it makes me want to vomit, I ask around outside of the Myrrh & Adder, then the Noxium, and finally, after not finding a single sign, I start checking empty doorways and park benches in our neighbourhood. The jacket I got for him isn’t in our room so at least he should be easy to spot, or that’s what I hope. Did something happen to him?
I also find myself getting antsy to hear from Celeste. All my texts only earn me short ‘thanks’ and ‘good girl’s, which is profoundly aggravating. After the night we had, moments of which still occasionally pop into my mind and make me shudder with pleasure, it would be nice to get something more. All this only confirms my suspicion that Celeste probably does that kind of thing all the time. Not that I want a relationship – I’ve sworn off of those after Casey – but I do think some better morning-after-manners are in order.
One night while checking for Mav under all the underpasses I can think of, I finally work up the courage to text her. “Can I see you?” I type, then lock the screen and put my phone in my pocket without sending it.Forget it,I think. It’ll just make me look stupid and desperate.
Alastor has texted again, too, asking me to call him.
It feels very uncomfortable and profoundly invasive to closely stare at the homeless people gathered under one of the foot bridges – and I’m not sure whether I’m happy or concerned to not find Mav there. One of bodies lying on a yoga mat by the side of the road doesn’t breathe or move, staring blankly into the distance. It looks like most of his stuff has been stolen, half empty rubbish bags scattered around his space. Feeling a little sick, I squat down and gently nudge him.
His body is calcified and stiff. Usually, if you’re a vampire and get to this stage, the authorities pick you up and throw you in a tomb somewhere – though word is that if you have friends on the street, they’ll stake you out of mercy before it comes to that. I shudder. Maybe if I was a bigger person I’d do it myself but instead, I just walk a little faster.
