0.6-The Asylum Interviews: Trixie (4 page)

“Excellent,” I replied with a wide grin. I returned to my seat and finished flipping through her portfolio. During the next forty-five minutes, I peppered her with questions about who she studied with, where she worked, and proper stirring techniques for various potions. The mix of her artistic talent, her potion knowledge, and her devotion to a friend made her a perfect choice for Asylum. I didn’t care that she thought I was a complete prick. I was extremely attracted to her, but so long as she didn’t like me, I would remember not to do something totally stupid.

The hard part after all this was over was going to be convincing her to accept a job at Asylum. The best I could promise would be that I’d work the afternoon shift, she’d take the early evening, and Bronx would come in at night. That way, our shifts would overlap by only a few hours and then she’d spend most of the night working with Bronx, whom I knew she could get along with.

“Why did you move to Low Town?” Bronx asked. I held my breath, fighting the urge to look up at Trixie as I waited for her to answer.

“Just wanted a change of pace,” she started and I could hear the shrug in her voice. “Jo talked about how great Low Town was and she was in such a rush to get back. I thought why not. I figured if I came here at least I would know one person.”

“Jo’s a great person to know,” I said, closing her portfolio. “She looks out for the people that she calls friends and she really knows the ins and outs of the city.”

“Why did you break up?”

I stared at Trixie for a moment and sighed. “She was leaving Low Town and didn’t know when she’d be back, if ever. We were never so serious that we wanted to lock ourselves into a long-distance relationship. She had her thing and I had mine. I wish we would have at least kept in better contact, but . . . we didn’t.”

My body tensed, waiting for her to say something about how I should have tried harder. I expected her to comment on how if I had put forth a little effort Jo might not have been in the mess she was in now. If I had kept up with Jo, her friend would not have had to tell me she was in trouble. Jo would have told me herself.

“I understand,” she murmured, taking me by surprise. For the first time, she looked at me with sympathy in her eyes. No anger or frustration or disgust. Sympathy. And it warmed some part deep inside of me that I hadn’t realized had grown cold and hard. I needed to say something that would wipe that look of sympathy from her eyes and make her hate me, but I couldn’t make a sound. Right then, I needed that softness more than I needed air.

The best I could do was stand and walk into the back room, slamming the door closed behind me. I’d make her hate me later.

CHAPTER THREE

W
arm & Toasted was pretty much what you’d expect from a place that specialized in wine, exotic coffees, and tapas. The cozy little bar was dimly lit and painted in warm oranges and reds while pictures of exotic locales hung on the walls. The place wasn’t packed, allowing Trixie to grab a table not far from the front door while I picked a spot at the far corner of the bar where I could watch for Jo’s arrival without her seeing me when she walked in.

Trixie wasn’t thrilled with my presence, but she had mellowed since we left Asylum. I, on the other hand, was adjusting to her glamour—since leaving the parlor, my ability to see her real appearance had disappeared. A part of me itched to ask why she was wearing the disguise, but I suppressed the question and kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want her asking about my own secrets, so I could respect her need for privacy.

Jo arrived at Warm & Toasted on time, smiling at Trixie as she slipped off her worn leather jacket and sat in a chair across from the tattoo artist. She was wearing her usual faded jeans and comfortably worn T-shirt from one of her favorite bands. Her short black hair brushed against her ears and high cheek bones. From my spot at the far end of the bar, I could tell that she wore only a sprinkling of make-up, just a little something to add color to her pale features. Despite the fact that she was supposedly dead, Jo looked as lovely and touchable as she always had while we were dating.

There was no mistaking a vampire under most circumstances. Besides their pale skin, their irises became almost completely white upon conversion, with only a slim ring of black circling the iris, separating it from the sclera. Most vampires were sensitive to bright lights, resulting in many carrying around colored glasses to help ease their discomfort, as well as soothe the discomfort of anyone who was uneasy about their pale eyes. Jo’s eyes held streaks of pale blue, making me think that her eyes had been a deep blue when she was human.

Trixie and I hadn’t discussed what she might talk with Jo about to keep her attention until I walked over, so I didn’t hesitate long. I was just hoping that she didn’t reveal that I had tagged along to this little meeting.

Emptying my pint of beer, I winked at the cute bartender as I slipped from my stool and walked around bar to where Trixie and Jo were seated, their heads close together as they talked. Before Jo noticed me, I saw that she was smiling so I was hoping that she was in a good mood. It would make things easier.

“Jo! Trixie! What a surprise to see you here!” I exclaimed as I closed in on their table. Unfortunately, the jig was up because Jo just shook her head and Trixie rolled her eyes at me as I slid into the empty third chair at the small round table.

“Oh, please, Gage. When was the last time you were here?” Jo scoffed.

“I’ve never been here; that’s what makes it so amazing. What are the odds of seeing you and my new employee here?”

“New employee?” Jo’s gaze jerked from my face to Trixie’s. “He hired you?”

Trixie frowned, narrowing her brown eyes at me. “No.”

“Well, I hadn’t offered her the job yet. I was hoping to let her sweat for a few days before calling with an offer.”

Jo gave a little laugh. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“I think he revels in it,” Trixie murmured as she picked up her wineglass and sipped her red wine, but I liked to think that she was just trying to hide her own smile.

“Not at all. I thought that I would take a break from all the insanity at the shop and I recalled a customer mention getting a really good empanada here. So I stopped by to try it out along with a good Malbec.”

Jo chuckled as she placed her hand on my arm. She leaned close and kissed my cheek. “You’re usually a better liar. You don’t drink wine and I doubt if you even know what an empanada is. If you wanted to see me, you could have just called.”

“I wanted to find out what’s going on with you and this Chester.”

Jo jerked her hand back from my arm as if she had been burned. Her soft expression hardened, while her laughing eyes turned arctic cold. “There’s nothing going on.”

“That’s not what I saw last night. And it’s not what I heard.”

Jo’s eyes snapped over to Trixie, who bravely met the vampire’s angry glare, before Jo shoved to her feet. “You told him?”

I quickly rose as well, placing a restraining hand on her arm. Not that it would do much good—Jo could toss me around the room like a bag of garbage if she wanted. I was hoping that she didn’t want to.

“You should have told me weeks ago,” I countered.

Jo looked at me, her eyes changing to a glowing red. She was pissed and I was about to find out exactly what happened when she lost her temper. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is. We might not be dating any longer, but I still count you as a friend. I help my friends.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I’m beginning to doubt that if you’re letting that douche bag I saw last night push you around.”

Jo growled. “Let me go.”

“Killing me won’t fix your problem with the nest.” I raised my other hand to press it to her cheek, but she jerked away with a hiss. “Please, let me help you, Josephina.” The red glow instantly dissipated from her eyes when I whispered her name, washing away the bulk of her anger. It was a dirty trick, considering that I only ever used her full name in teasing or when we were having sex, but it was enough to keep her from ripping my arms off.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” she said on a sigh as her stiff shoulders slumped.

This time she let me touch her cheek when I reached for her. “Yeah, but you like this pain in the ass.”

Jo gave me a quick hug before we returned to our seats. The vampire looked over at Trixie, who appeared stiff and more than a little unsure about what had transpired. “You shouldn’t have told him anything, but I can understand why you did.”

“You’re in trouble and hurting,” Trixie started, clasping Jo’s hand across the table. “I’m new to the area and I needed some help. He’s not the greatest choice, but he’s the only one that you ever talked about besides the members of your band.”

I leaned in and flashed Jo a wicked grin. “You talked about me?”

Jo glared at me. “Don’t get your hopes up. It wasn’t particularly complimentary.”

“Couldn’t have been too bad if Trixie still came to me for help.”

“Well, you didn’t seem worse than Chester,” Trixie said with a smirk.

My grin died as I looked across the table at my new associate. “Thanks.” It was nice to know that I was only slightly better than an abusive asshole. Flopping back in my chair, I dropped my hands into my lap and looked at Jo. “Why don’t you tell us what’s going on? Trixie filled me in on why you’re stuck with this nest, but I don’t know anything about your master vampire.”

Jo sucked in a deep breath and slowly released it, weaving her fingers together in front of her on the table. I hated seeing her like this. Jo was strength and confidence. She didn’t waver or hesitate when faced with insurmountable odds. She plunged ahead, handling everything that was thrown her way. But somehow Chester had her dragging her feet and looking unsure.

“I heard about Chester when I was aligned with the other nest; heard he was a total prick. Everyone gave him a wide birth,” Jo began. “When the band moved back to Low Town, both Royce and I were forced to join Chester’s nest because there was no room at our old nest. I can’t say that Chester has been nice to Royce, but he hasn’t hounded my band mate like he has me. I’m forced to check in with him every night and ask permission to leave the manor. He has to know who I’m going to be with and what I’m doing at all times.”

“What do you mean? Are you living with him?” I demanded.

“Everyone new to a nest has to live in the manor house for a period of time. It’s usually pretty short. Sort of like a probationary period.”

“How long did you live in the manor house with your last nest?” Trixie asked.

“Two weeks.”

“Trixie said that you’ve been in town a month,” I said and Jo dipped her head, staring down at her clenched hands.

“Yes, and Chester has given no indication of when he’s going to let me leave. I don’t think he means to.”

“What about Royce?” Trixie asked as I lacked the ability to loosen my jaw enough to speak.

“He moved out three days ago.”

I lunged toward Jo so that my face was only inches away from her ear. “Has he touched you?” I snarled.

“Gage,” she gasped.

“Has he touched you? Has he hurt you?”

“I’m not yours to protect any longer, Gage,” she warned in a low voice.

“I don’t care. I’m going to kill him.”

Jo’s hand clamped on my arm as I started to move to my feet. I didn’t know where I was going or what I was going to do. I just wanted to put my hands around Chester’s throat and squeeze until his eyeballs popped out of their sockets and I felt the crunch of breaking bones under my fingers. Jo looked around the bar, checking to make sure that no one was paying attention to our conversation.

“You can’t kill him,” Jo whispered, squeezing my wrist until I settled back in my chair.

“That’s right. I’m going to,” Trixie chimed in, drawing a grim smile to my lips. It was nice to see that we were thinking along the same lines, at least in this instance.

“No, you’re not,” Jo snapped at Trixie and then looked at me. “Neither of you are. He hasn’t touched me. At least not sexually like you’re thinking.”

“But he’s struck you,” Trixie pressed.

“That’s not out of the ordinary for a vampire. We’re sometimes a violent group.”

“Oh, bullshit, Jo! Don’t make excuses for this asshole,” Trixie snapped. “He’s controlling you, forcing you to follow his wishes, through pain. It can’t continue.”

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t kill him,” she hissed.

“Because the nest would be dissolved,” I said, regaining Jo’s attention. “If the master vampire is destroyed then the nest will have to be dissolved, right? You’d have to leave Low Town.”

Her lovely face twisted for a moment, weighing her words before she finally spoke. “That happens sometimes when a master is killed. Not always. If there’s one or more vampires living in the nest who are at least three hundred years old, one of them can be named the new master, keeping the nest intact.”

“Is there one in your nest?”

“Yes,” she whispered, refusing to look at either me or Trixie.

A growing tension uncoiled in my stomach. “Exactly how old are you, Jo?” I softly demanded.

“That’s none of your business.”

“How old?” I pushed, refusing to allow her to evade the question, no matter how rude it was.

Jo sat back her chair, her arms folded over her stomach as she glared at the tabletop. “Three hundred seventy-two years old. If Chester dies, then the job of master vampire will fall to me. And I
don’t
want it.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I scoffed. “You don’t want a job and would rather put up with this asshole treating you like dirt.”

“I’m hoping that it won’t be for long. I’ve kept in touch with Michelle, the master vampire from my old nest. She’s moved me to the top of the waiting list. When there’s an opening, she’s going to let me move over to her nest.”

“And how long could that take?” Trixie demanded.

Jo shrugged, trying to make light of it. “A few years, maybe.”

“Or a lot longer considering that vampires don’t move around often,” I grumbled. “You could be stuck with Chester for years, assuming that he doesn’t kill you off when he finally gets bored of his current game of torture.”