Chapter Four — Surprise Encounter
“The good news,” Owens said, “is that we’re almost to the steakhouse. The bad news is that some asshole has been trailing us since we left the house.”
“You could have told us sooner,” Charly joked.
“Fucks sake,” said Owens.
“Get a look at the guy?” I asked.
“Probably not Chevalier,” said Owens. “He’d have to cut a hole in the roof of any car he drove. And if he was in his car, you’d know it.”
“Small convertible?” asked Charly.
“Yup. Cover down, always. Ain’t him. Not a convertible. Also, I can’t even see the driver.”
“Maybe it’s one of those new self-driving things,” I said.
“That’s not it. They’ve been keeping their distance. We’ll go to the steakhouse, see where they go.”
So that’s what we did. The parking area around the steakhouse was jammed, even though it was heading towards eleven pm.
“I forgot about the fucking baseball game,” grumbled Owens as he dodged baseball fans walking in the streets who were heading home or milling about the area looking for a place to get a late drink and snack.
The area around the Atlanta Braves baseball park was a big mixed-use development called The Battery, full of restaurants and expensive bars designed to suck out what little was left of fans’ wallets. Owens finally found a parking spot a few blocks away from the steakhouse.
We didn’t need to think hard about where the car following us was. Before we had time to unfasten our seat belts, a long brown Cadillac more than a half century old pulled up behind us. If Owens had tried to back out of his parking spot, he would have hit it.
“Well, that was fast,” he observed. Whoever it was had no concerns about causing a public scene. Owens turned around and glared at me with one of his “I hate vampires” looks.
Yeah, I do, too, sometimes, I might have volunteered if he had said something.
Parked perpendicular to Owens’ SUV, the Cadillac idled with a steady rumble behind us.
“You might want to grab Cordelia,” I said.
Cordelia was in the front between Owens and Garrison. After Owens snatched the gun and opened his door, the rest of us poured out of the vehicle to confront the threat.
All four doors of the Cadillac opened simultaneously. This was a large Cadillac, the old kind, the ones that are hard to find parking spaces for, but the number of Kalonoro that fell out of the car was still not something possible through the laws of physics. We found ourselves surrounded by dozens of them.
“Shit,” said Garrison, “They’re like a bunch of giant tribbles.”
Owens was quick to react. “Some of these ain’t real,” he said.
I swept my hand towards one who seemed to get too close to me, and sure enough, my hand waved through it.
Charly said, “Since when do tiny vamps from the jungles of Madagascar go all high tech on our ass?” He approached a small group of them gathering around the back of the Cadillac as one of them popped open the trunk.
None of them were saying anything or openly threatening us, despite surrounding us. The group at the trunk of the car reached in and grunted as they lifted a body out and laid it gently on the ground.
It was Daphne. Or her clone.
One of the Kalonoro said something in a language I didn’t understand, then they all scrambled back into the Cadillac, including the holograms. The driver must have stayed in the car. He revved the engine and spun the back tires a bit on some pebbles in the parking lot before peeling away, and they were gone.
I looked at Charly. “The fuck?”
Charly shrugged.
“What did that one little fella say?” asked Owens.
“He said, ‘We are finished with her,’” said Charly.
I was too mesmerized by the suddenness of it all to feel any emotions toward her. I stepped quickly to her and bent down, then checked for a pulse. Her lovely neck was warm. Her lovely eyes were closed.
“Charly?” I asked the air around me, now unaware of my other surroundings aside from a vague notion that Charly was somewhere nearby. It was as if I had become disembodied.
“I think that’s her, bro,” I heard his voice say. His voice seemed distant, even though I knew he was right there. This time, it wasn’t just a little bit of mist filling my eyes. Tears began to gush out as I smashed my cheek against hers.
I stood up, then looked at Daphne’s quiet body, which was lying on the ground like a corpse. She was fully clothed, wearing a pair of jeans and a dark green concert T-shirt from a band I’d never heard of.
A couple of drunk guys wearing Braves caps walked by, asking if we needed help. Owens made a threatening sound with Cordelia, and the two scampered away.
“So much for my fucking steak,” said Owens.
“I’m hungry as hell.” Daphne’s voice sounded like a song of peace to me. We all looked at her at the same time, I think, although I can’t say I was checking out the expressions of the other three.
Daphne jumped up as if she had merely stumbled a bit on a run, alert, wide-eyed, crying, then leaped into my arms with a hug that felt as strong as something Charly could give.
“Holy shit,” I thought I heard Owens say.
I’ve been around for two thousand years, and I can tell you I never felt like I did in that moment. Daphne filled up two thousand years of unrequited love in five seconds. My heart was about to explode. Months of sadness turned my eyes into water faucets.
I finally pulled away from our embrace and grasped both her cheeks with the palms of my hands. “Where the hell have you been?” I asked through more tears.
I felt Charly put a big hand on my shoulder. When he did that, Daphne pressed her lips into mine, then shoved me away and jumped onto Charly, who lifted her towards the sky. “Shit, girl, I’m sorry,” he said. He set her down on the wet pavement.
Daphne shrugged, then looked at me. “I’m not sure, Jade. Everything is pretty fuzzy. They wanted me for something, but they treated me fine. If you call eating monkey meat being treated fine.”
Daphne was in tears, too. Owens handed her a bandana he never wore, which she took to wipe her eyes. She looked at Owens with a smile that would stop a charging bull.
“Goddammit,” said Owens as he approached for his turn at an embrace.
Daphne giggled, recognizing Owens’ surliness and apparently happy that everything suddenly seemed normal.
“You up for a steak, kiddo?” asked Owens. In her life as a human, she’d been a vegetarian, but now that she had been turned by Moreland, I wasn’t surprised when she responded with “Hell, yes.”
“We gotta lot to talk about,” said Owens. “How ‘bout that? You up for that, too?”
“Fuck’s sake, Owens, she just rose from the dead,” I complained.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m just glad to see you all.” She looked at Garrison. “Hi, Detective Garrison.”
Garrison responded by waving meekly.
Owens headed for the restaurant, assuming we’d all follow. He was right, of course. I was starved.
Charly held the door open for us as we all walked in, drawing the immediate attention of the attractive hostess, who looked like she was dressed for the event of her lifetime, but also looked like she did this every day, which she probably did. Her dark almond skin blended beautifully with the dark red of her dress.
What was probably normally a beaming smile was stilted somewhat as she observed her guests. Humans were trying to adjust to vampires among them, but it was rough going. So, when the hostess asked how many, Owens looked at Charly and said, “Two more than it seems.” He then flashed his badge.
This left the poor woman speechless, so I said, “Ignore the detective. He’s an idiot. There’s five of us. One of us is extra-large. And we’re all famished.”
As soon as I said that, I realized “famished” might not be a word that would make a human like her comfortable, but it was too late. Charly grinned ear to ear. Looking at him, I could have sworn he must have polished his always impressive incisors, one of which seemed to glint from the ornamental light hanging over the hostess.
Daphne strode up to her and whispered something that made her laugh. She seemed to chill at that, then grabbed some menus and said, “Right this way.”
We marched through a maze of tables covered with white linen, each filled with wide-eyed onlookers. The clattering silverware and raucous chattering that had filled the restaurant upon our arrival were replaced for a moment with silence. I heard Owens mumble an expletive as the hostess turned a corner and took us to a window table.
“Now what’s wrong?” I asked Owens.
“You’d think we all had elephant heads or something. The hell’s wrong with all these people?”
Charly rumbled with a laugh, and Daphne hit him in the shoulder as we sat down.
“Will I, like, grow taller?” she asked me suddenly as she pulled her seat forward and sat. She was already a tall woman, but I understood the question.
“No,” I said. “It’s a generational thing. I think. Or something like that.”
Charly was sitting on the other side of her. He said, “Something in the genes, but it happens to your kid, not you. Your kid? He or she will be about six inches taller than you. Probs. Didn’t I tell you this while we were gone?”
She shook her head and said slowly, “I can’t remember much, Charly.”
“Well,” said Owens. “What do you remember?”
“Settle the fuck down, Owens,” I said. “First, I gotta know. What did you say to the hostess to calm her?”
“Just girl talk, Jade. Don’t you worry your pretty little face about it.”
Looking at Charly, I said, “If I had known Moreland would be installing a smart-ass gene into her when she turned her, I would never have agreed to this.”
“Excuse me?” said Daphne. “Agreed to what, exactly?”
Sensing trouble, I shut up. “Yeah, so, about Madagascar,” I said.
Daphne glared at me, but then took my hand and kissed it. “You’re an idiot, I swear to God. But I really missed you.”
I still wanted to know about Madagascar.
Author’s note: Raw and unedited (mostly).
I’ve been busy with other stuff, so I haven’t had time to write on this sequel. Back at it now, so keep an eye out for more.
It’s my habit to make about 1,000 edits, rewrites, etc when writing a novel. This is a first iteration. There may be many more.
It helps to be familiar with characters from the first book in this series, Psalm of Vampires, but my goal is for this second novel in the series to stand on its own.
Question for readers: If you haven’t read Psalm of Vampires, are you reaching the point where it doesn’t matter? Or are you lost? Are you getting any sense of the characters? Or are you lost? Thanks for all and any input!
All feedback is welcome. If you enjoy this and enjoy the process of following a work in progress, please restack and share with others who enjoy this kind of fiction.
Here’s a standalone short story, a noir romance, about Charly:
Thanks for reading!
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